I should probably explain myself here. This is a self-imposed, two-hour writing challenge using the first thing that popped into my head. When I decided to do it, I happened to be eating kaluschken, so that thing was sauerkraut. The following was written with no forethought, planning, or even the slightest idea of what I was doing besides that it would involve sauerkraut in some way.
I regret nothing.
A bright, trilling chord erupted out of nowhere as the view faded in from black, focusing on a clear, blue sky. A few birds flew through the shot, chirping merrily, as the camera panned down onto a small deer that was casually foraging among the grass.
Now generally, one wouldn’t find anything wrong with this picture. Arguably, there was nothing wrong with it. In fact, one would almost feel a sense of languid ease as they watched the deer munch on grass, without a care in the world, and then look skyward as something above it caught its attention–
An unwelcome interruption to this beauteous scene came in the form of a massive scaled foot that plummeted down from the sky and crushed the deer, as well as the surrounding bed of wildflowers, into an unrecognizable pulp.
At this point, the camera jerked wildly, as the one holding it recoiled in well-deserved horror. Several ponies ran past, screaming in terror, as a second scaled foot joined the first, and the audio feed was nearly overloaded by a deafening roar.
A unicorn stallion suddenly appeared in front of the camera, his face filling the entire frame of view. “To anyone who’s watching this,” he yelled, as screams sounded from behind him, “Run! Get as far away from here as you can! Celestia help us… aah! No! Let go of… WAAHAAAH!”
Twilight took a bored sip of her drink as the screen dissolved into static, and abruptly cut to a flustered-looking newscaster. “Well then,” the pony said, carefully placing a stack of reports in front of him. “I was assured that particular footage was a lot less… graphic. Needless to say, our hearts are with those in Ponyville, who…”
Spike wandered into the room and cast a disgusted look at the television set. “Are you watching a monster movie marathon again?”
“No,” Twilight replied. “The news.”
“… reports of hundreds of fatalities are streaming in from Ponyville and the surrounding area. We now go live to our on-scene reporter, Pappa Razzi. Pappa?”
Spike settled down on the couch beside her, frowning as the floor suddenly jolted. “Anything interesting?”
“… out of here! Get out! Move! Dear Celestia, look at the size of that thing! It just… oh stars, it just stepped on Sugarcube Corner! Was there anyone… oh, thank Celestia.”
Twilight yawned as a dull roar echoed in through the library windows. “Same old, same old.”
Spike glanced over out the window, through which a massive scaled form was visible. “Shouldn’t you… you know, do something?”
Twilight sighed heavily. “I could…”
Spike winced. “Ouch. Was that Berry Punch’s house?”
The unicorn squinted at the television. “Can't go quite yet. Give it a few more seconds…”
“… could she be? She always comes right about now! Twilight Sparkle, where are you?”
Twilight got up from the couch, cracking her neck back and forth. “Well, that’s my cue.” She strode toward the door, sunlight glinting off the sequins sewn into the stylized letter “T” that adorned the chest of her blue-and-red Spandex leotard.
Spike shook his head as she walked past. “Honestly, Twilight. Do you have to be so… theatrical about this whole thing?”
“It’s all about appearances, Spike,” Twilight replied, donning the bright red cape that completed the ensemble. “You have to appear just when things seem at their worst.”
“But that doesn’t make sense!” Spike protested. “Why don’t you show up before anything bad happens?”
Twilight snorted. “Because that would completely defeat the purpose of saving the town. Now can you help me with this cape? Stupid knot’s giving me trouble again.”
Spike sighed in resignation and tied the cape in a knot at her throat. “There. Go save the town. Again. What is this? Third time this week?”
“Fourth,” Twilight replied, fiddling with the knot. “You forgot the blob-monster Pinkie accidentally created when lightning struck that massive bowl of cake batter.”
Spike shook his head. “I swear, the amount of stuff that goes on in this town…”
“… Dear stars, did you see that?” the panicked reporter on the television said. “It just ate the clock tower!”
Twilight’s eyebrows met. “I liked that clock tower,” she muttered. “Enough stalling. Wish me luck!”
“Uh, Twilight?”
“Spike, I really don’t have time for–”
“No!” Spike said. “You almost forgot…”
Twilight laughed nervously as she took the small object from Spike’s claw and stowed it in a pocket. “You’re right. Can’t forget that.”
Spike chuckled. “Kick its flank, Twilight.”
The giant reptilian beast roared in triumph as he stood over the shattered remains of the clock tower. That would be the last time that particular structure looked at him funny.
“Hey! Jerkface!”
The beast turned his great head and glared at the rainbow-maned pegasus hovering in front of his face. “You can terrorize the town all you want,” she snarled. “I’ll even let stepping on Sugarcube Corner slide. But this…”
She gestured wildly at what was left of the clock tower. “I liked that clock tower!”
The beast gave her a deadpan look and rested his claws on his hips. He said nothing, but the body language was clear. Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?
Rainbow Dash’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, it’s on.”
Watching from the street, Twilight let out a heavy sigh as she watched a rainbow blur begin to buzz around the beast. She grasped a stick in magic and used it to draw a small “X” on the ground. “Five… four… three…” she muttered under her breath.
There was a muffled smack sound from far above, and Rainbow slammed into the X just as Twilight said “One.”
“Ow…” Dash moaned, eyes spinning. “Anypony catch the license number of that thunderhead?”
“You okay?” Twilight asked, nudging her friend with a hoof.
“Why yes, ma, that dress looks really pretty on you!” Dash replied, smiling goofily.
“Yeah, you’re all right.” Twilight straightened up and glared at the giant reptile standing over the town. “Now how to go about this…”
Naturally, since flight was beyond her, attracting the beast’s attention would prove a little difficult. Her eyes alighted on an abandoned chariot by the side of the road, and a sadistic smile curled across her face. Perfect.
What followed next served as a bit of an experiment for Twilight. Hurling a chariot at a very sensitive part of a massive lizard’s anatomy was a new experience, and she had only a few rough theories on which to base her hypothesis. As luck would have it, her hypothesis was utterly correct: the creature howled in pain, clutched said sensitive piece of anatomy in its claws, and writhed in agony for about thirty seconds.
This gave Twilight enough time to find a suitably large piece of rubble and fling it at the creature’s temple with telekinesis. Theoretically, the piece should have had sufficient momentum to penetrate the skull and cause untimely demise.
Unfortunately, she misjudged the creature’s recovery time. A scaled hand shot out and caught the piece of rubble before impact with his skull. Locking red-rimmed eyes on Twilight, the beast growled menacingly, crushing the piece of masonry to dust.
The unicorn frantically began channeling her power into a defensive spell, but it was too late; the beast had already started to inhale, blue flames flickering at the back of his throat. An instant later, he thrust his head forward, spewing a wave of atomic fire directly toward the lavender unicorn.
I’m beginning to doubt the wisdom of that last action, Twilight thought, just before the wave of blue fire vaporized everything around her for a fifteen-meter radius. A millisecond afterwards, the surrounding air imploded into the resulting vacuum, and rebounded at slightly less than the speed of sound. The wall of superheated air flung Twilight backwards into the nearest building, where she finally came to a rest in a heap of twisted metal and splintered wood.
Twilight groaned in pain, forcing herself to her hooves. Then she became aware of the shocked faces staring at her from every direction. One of them was the reporter she’d seen on television not ten minutes before. She looked around, confused. He was nowhere near the reptilian creature. How had she…
Then she saw the hole in the wall, and instantly understood. The same hole continued through four other buildings. Nine walls. That has to be some kind of record.
She gave a resigned sigh, and brushed a few splinters of wood off her cape. I was hoping to avoid this.
“Twilight?” the reporter asked.
Twilight looked over, sighing heavily. “What?”
Pappa Razzi took a tense step back. “I was… ah…”
“Out with it.”
The reporter swallowed. “What are you going to do?”
Twilight went over to a window and looked outside, scowling as she watched the massive reptile make its way to Sweet Apple Acres. After a moment of indecisiveness, she fished around in her pocket and brought out the object Spike had given her: a small tin can. The label had been removed, and in replacement, “Whoop-ass” had been scrawled across it in permanent marker.
“What am I going to do?” she replied. “I’m going to open up this can.”
The reptilian beast suddenly stopped, aware of a repeated impact against his lower ankle. He looked down, and noted with some amusement that a muted orange earth pony was kicking him repeatedly.
“Oh, so Ah have your attention now?” the pony spat, reaching up to adjust the Stetson hat perched on her head. “Good! ‘Cause I’ve got a bone to pick with you!”
The creature rolled his eyes. Here we go again.
“You can go ahead and bust up my barn,” the earth pony snapped. “Hay, you can even go ‘head and set fire to th’ South fields!”
She stomped on his unyielding claw for emphasis. “But Ah liked that clo–”
A bolt of magic slammed into the side of the reptile’s face, cutting Applejack off. The creature howled in pain and turned to face this new annoyance, flames flickering in his nostrils.
“Oh, did that hurt?” Twilight said with false concern. “Good.”
The beast howled in rage and slammed a foot down on top of the lavender unicorn, but she simply teleported out of the way. “Let me tell you something,” she said. “You can go ahead and stomp on a deer. You can even send me through nine walls.”
The reptilian creature growled and covered his ears. No. Please. Not this again.
Twilight teleported up onto the bridge of the creature’s nose and glared directly into his eyes. “But I liked that–”
The beast roared in fury and tossed his head, throwing Twilight off. She backflipped gracefully and landed lightly before an astounded Applejack. “Clock tower,” she finished with a sardonic grin.
“Get yourself out of here, Applejack,” she told the earth pony. “Me and Godzilla over here have some unfinished business.”
The creature growled. “Oh, did you not like being called that?” Twilight said. “Go ahead, Godzilla. Hit me with your best shot.”
With a roar of rage, the beast slammed a foot down on the unicorn. This time, she didn’t teleport, but instead cast a quick force field to stop the foot an inch from her head.
Almost immediately, a bolt of pain lanced through her head, a signal that she was reaching her limits. Have to make this fast.
Using what remaining strength she had, she tore the lid off the can, and poured the contents down her throat.
Those watching from the remains of Ponyville would have sworn that the creature was simply obliterated in a massive explosion. For all intents and purposes, that was what happened. But, in reality, several things happened in the space of about a second.
First, Twilight opened the can of sauerkraut and devoured it. Second, a wave of unbelievable strength crashed through her, enabling her to throw the beast’s foot off her with a wave of raw power.
The massive reptile staggered backwards, shock spreading across his face. Twilight regarded him coldly, eyes sizzling with sparks of raw magic. “You made a big mistake coming here,” she said softly.
Uncertainty flickered in the monster’s eyes.
Twilight bunched her muscles and leapt. It was as if she’d been shot out of a cannon; she just vanished from the ground and rocketed toward the reptile’s chest. Tore through. Appeared out the other side in a fountain of gore. Wheeled around in midair, teeth bared in a feral snarl, wreathed in raw power.
And unleashed everything she had.
The beam of magic that struck through the reptilian creature contained energy approaching that of the core of the sun. An instant before impact, the intense heat and pressure of the blast actually fused the carbon in the monster’s scales into diamond.
Not that it made a difference, in any case. The creature, and the surrounding hillside, was utterly obliterated by Twilight’s attack. The shockwave shattered every window still unbroken in Ponyville, and perforated the eardrums of anypony closer than three kilometres. The diffuse matter that had once been a massive reptilian monster and a hillside blasted upwards, convection currents forming it into an immense mushroom cloud.
The blast of magic continued onwards, obliterating everything in its path, scouring the hillside down to the very bedrock.
With a sort of lazy resignation, Twilight watched the blast wave race toward her. She let out a quiet sigh. I really need to learn to hold back a li–
Then the inferno engulfed her, and she knew no more.
Darkness. Pressing in on all sides, choking her. As she returned to consciousness, Twilight thrashed blindly, struggling to breathe against the suffocating dark – and then realized that she was simply buried in rubble.
A groan of frustration escaped her throat as she strained against the loose rocks and dirt that was holding her down. After another long moment, she slumped, exhausted. Great. After all that, I end up stuck under a bunch of rocks.
She tried to light her horn, but for some reason, the magic eluded her. Huh, she thought, thinking back to some of her lessons on magic deadeners. Looks like I found a vein of iron.
Sighing, she slumped back into the small cavity her body had made in the rubble. Great. No magic, no sauerkraut, and, judging by the taste of the air, not much oxygen. It'd take a miracle to get out of–
"Twi? Twilight!"
Speak of the devil. Twilight sucked in a breath and hollered back, "Over here! I'm here!"
"Y'all hear that? Twi! Ah'm comin'!"
A moment later, a rock in front of Twilight's face was lifted away, and Applejack's smiling face came into view. "Twilight!" the earth pony exclaimed. "Thank Celestia! When that thing blew itself up, Ah didn't know what t' think!"
Twilight blinked. But it didn't... oh. Heh. I'll just let everyone think that. "Takes more than that to knock me down," she croaked.
Applejack nodded and disappeared from view. "Jus' hold on, Twi! Ah'll get you out." Then, more quietly, "All right. You pull out that, and Ah'll handle this one. You make sure the whole thing doesn't come down on us."
Twilight was content just to lie there and breathe deep of the clean, sweet air. If nothing else, it helped clear the rancid taste from her mouth.
A moment later, microphones and unfamiliar faces crowded the gap. "Twilight! A word please!"
"What did you think when you saw the creature?"
"Do you have any quotes for us?"
Twilight delivered a sour look at the reporters, who were all smiling weakly. "Sure, I have a quote for you," she replied.
The last reporter to have spoken leaned forward expectantly. "Yes?"
Twilight spat to the side. "I fucking hate sauerkraut."
