The Speech to End All Speeches
Scootaloo walked up nervously to the front of the class. Her legs were shaking and her voice trembling as she answered Miss Cheerilee's question.
"I- I'm ready for my oral presentation, Miss Che-Cheerilee...!" she said timidly.
"It is very brave of you to come up here, Scootaloo, you should be proud of yourself! Now, I'm sure everyone is as excited as I am to hear what you have to say. Isn't that right, class?"
Everypony in the room replied with mild enthusiasm: "Yes, Miss Cheerilee!"
The teacher turned to the frightened filly and gave her a reassuring smile.
"Awesome! You can get started whenever you want, my dear."
Scootaloo hated doing things like this, but it wasn't like she had any choice. Seeing as she might as well do a good job at it, she mustered all the strength she had to calm herself down and prepare her speech. Glancing at Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, who were waving and cheering from the back, she felt greatly reassured. Scootaloo finally cleared her throat and began...
The Crisis
A fictional story by Scootaloo.
Sometimes, disaster strikes without warning, without reason. People's lives are endangered and minutes can make the difference between life and ultimate death. The key is knowing what to do, being prepared, and staying calm. It isn't all up to the doctors or paramedics, the first ponies at the scene are just as important. You play a crucial role as well. A lesson three friends had to learn first-hand...
It was a sweet June afternoon, school was over, and everypony rejoiced at the coming summer vacations. The streets of Ponyville where filled with running fillies and colts in bicycles, while some of the older ones stayed home, catching up with their friends or playing video games. The latter was the case of Sugary Cute and Pomaceous Efflorescence, who were friends since approximately two minutes ago. Together, they were an unstoppable gaming team; defeating each and every Space Kitty of Evil and their Thermonuclear Waffles at every turn. But then, the unthinkable happened...
Since it was 7 o'clock, everypony was watching the latest episode of Nuke it From Orbit. The streets were empty and desolate. With no interest whatsoever to the show, our two friends decided to go biking. After distancing themselves of the house by 4 meters, they stood in shock as they watched in an excruciatingly slow slow-motion their neighbor, Bobby, fly through the air as his bike crashed into a ladybug: shattering into pieces. Bobby hit the ground headfirst and started to bleed. They galloped to the scene and attempted to call the Royal Guard.
"Pomaceous, quick! Call the Royal Guard!" screamed Sugary.
Efflorescence proceeded to do so, but her efforts were in vain, for she later added:
"No good, they say they can't get here due to Mane Street being blocked by protesters!"
"WHAT?! What are they protesting for??" asked Sugary.
"It appears they demand poutine," responded Pomaceous.
"Oh. Well, that's a pretty good reason."
"I know. Wait, but what do we do now?"
"I don't know, I don't know... But we need to stay calm, you hear me? WE NEED. TO STAY. CALM."
"Wait, I have an idea! Do we still have cat food?"
"No, we're completely exhausted."
"Damn, that was a good one. Let's see... How about some Cliche-Repellent?"
"Nope, we're outta that too; it's in pretty high demand."
"Well, I've run out of ideas."
"By Celestia's beard! I almost forgot about that!"
"About what?"
"Quick, Apple Bloo- uh, Pomaceous. Go get the What-To-Do-In-Case-Your-Neighbor-Bobby-Falls-Off-His-Bike-Due-To-An-Epic-Ladybug-Collision-And-Is-Suffering-From-Cranial-Bleeding Kit!"
"Of course! I once saw my friend from Manehattan had one of those. They're everywhere on TV!"
"Right. Go get it fast. It's right next to the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch."
"Gotcha!"
A few minutes later, she returns.
"Here it is."
"Read the instructions," ordered Sugary.
"Step 1: Localize Problem. Step 2: Solve Problem. Step 3: ????. Step 4: PROFIT."
"That's perfect! Let's do just that!"
And so, our friends saved Bobby's life. He was incredibly grateful and solemnly promised never to bleed from his head again...
The End.
After Scootaloo finished, she looked around to see everypony was weeping. Everypony.
They were sad, they were happy, they were amazed.
They were crying tears of freedom.
And now, a separate story.
Twilight had been wandering aimlessly across town for a few hours, and had not encountered a single soul in her path thus far. She seemed to be completely alone in this town... the world, even... but this wasn't surprising considering the hour of the night she had chosen for this most peculiar sortie. Being alone like this was a feeling she hadn't experienced ever since leaving Canterlot, and had always considered those isolated days over.
...but not that her solitary state mattered to her, anyways.
Actually, it did matter. In fact, it mattered a lot!
But then again, it didn't, really.
At least, that's how it all felt to her since she still hadn't gotten over the incident... The image remained fresh in her mind: torturing her, making her remember the overwhelming barrage of emotions that overcame her that very instant... That moment when she decided to open that door, oblivious of what laid behind it.
It was all just too much, she no longer had control of her body. She ran away as fast as she could from the scene, heart-broken and in tears, wishing for it to all go away and disappear, much like after waking up from a bad dream. She covered her overflowing eyes, praying that she could un-see what hath been seen...! Twilight couldn't, however, and no matter where she tried to hide, the thought found her... It stalked her, it hunted her: lurking in the corners and in the deepest recesses of her mind.
It enjoyed making her suffer.
Hours had already passed though, and now Twilight saw herself losing the will to live...
Or rather, the will to care: she was filled with apathy.
And so, the only solace she could take comfort in was in walking. It used to clear her mind, but now it only served to keep her attached to this world: Twilight felt that if she didn't walk, her spirit would just... slowly drift away and never return. A painkiller of sorts, or her lifeline.
Her lonesome soul calmly drifted over the wet pavement. Fittingly, it had been raining in torrents for days, and this night was no particular exception. Every single one of her steps whispered the eternal laments and remorse of past deeds as they met the unforgiving puddles of countless tears. Every individual second seemed to linger onto eternity: never giving way for the next. Each one took its own bittersweet time... But like any mortal joy, it ended, withering and dying.
The dilapidated surroundings only seemed to accentuate the misery she found herself in, yet she just could not care less.
She could not care less of anything, not anymore...
Not now that there was no more ketchup in the fridge.
