Cute Mark Crusaders Destroyers of Worlds, Yay!

Dear Applebloom,

Ah know that I was hard on you after what happened with Fluttershy and I apologize. You're only a young un and you couldn't know what was going to happen. Ah'm your sister and I want you to know that I will always be there for you in the future.

Anywho, you probably shouldn't come back to Ponyville anytime soon. Twilight tried to reanimate Fluttershy using some sort of fancy 'necromantic' ritual in combination with a swamp tainted by dark magic somewhere in the Everfree forest. But what we buried wasn't what came back. Fluttershy went on a rampage and animated a bunch of other corpses to serve as her minions. Rarity's dead, and so's Granny Smith. Just got swarmed and eaten alive before we could git to them. We finally managed to stop `em, but Fluttershy's not been accounted for and we still haven't found the body, or Rainbow Dash’s wing. There was just so much blood.

In conclusion, sometimes dead is better.

Your sister Applejack.

†

Applebloom put down the letter. She looked up at Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, who were watching her expectantly. She forced a wide smile to her face.

“Everything’s going well back home! Applejack says that she forgives me for everything and that eventually it’ll be safe for us to all come back.”

“Is that so?” Sweetie Belle said, a hopeful note struggling to escape her monotone. Scootaloo tried to peer over Applebloom’s shoulder at the letter, but Applebloom shoved her aside and made for the door.

“Eyup! That’s such good news, it calls for celebration! I’m going to go get a milkshake! Who’s with me?”

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle looked at each other. Something was clearly up, but…

“I have a study session planned in the science lab,” Sweetie Belle said. “One of the teachers is looking for an assistant for his cybernetics program and I want to be there to see who is likely to win.”

“I. uh, I’m going to go practice my scooter. Talk to you all later.”

With that Scootaloo made her way out of the dorm room the three shared.

Sweetie Belle looked from the door to the bed and back, noting that Scootaloo had left her scooter behind. She shrugged and made her own departure.

†

“What in Tartarus happened here?”

Shining Armor’s first words as he entered the crime scene summed up the reaction of the group of royal guards that accompanied him into the warehouse. The place was riddled with bullets and splattered with gore in every direction. One did not make it as far in the Equestrian royal guard as they had by being squeamish, but even by Shining Armor’s standards this abattoir was something else.

The police detective on the scene gave a sloppy salute and answered by levitating what looked like a half-burnt cigar up for Shining Armor to inspect. “The drug marijuana, that’s what happened.”

Shining Armor just stared at him. “Give me the expanded version.”

The detective nodded. “Near as we can tell there was a raid by a rival crime faction. Unfortunately for them, some of the guards were sampling the merchandise.” He gestured at the griffin corpses nearby. “You can see how that turned out.”

Shining Armor inspected the griffon with the crushed skull.

“How many did it take to do this?”

“Near as we can tell? One. The others pitched in later.”

Shining Armor gave him an incredulous look. The detective nodded again.

“Eyup. That’s what happens when somepony sucks the devil’s penis. I expect that’s why they sent you.”

Shining Armor rubbed the flat part of his hoof between his eyes. “How bad are we talking about?”

“Well, the forensics team thinks maybe four or five dealer ponies got away, each carrying as much hash as they could. Which is enough to get maybe a few dozen or so ponies high off their minds. We don’t know if they regrouped or touched base with the rest of their organization or just hunkered down and decided they wanted to see Celestia, but whatever they’re up to it can’t be good.

Shining Armor straightened, repressing a sigh. “Alright. First things first, we have to contain the spread of the drug. I’m authorizing you to do a door to door search of every residence, gas station, warehouse, whorehouse, dog house, outhouse and hen house in a five block radius. Don’t bother with warrants. Call in whatever support you need; I’ll back it.”

He stomped his hooves.

“Let’s move out!

†

Trixie and Blood Beak stumbled into the safe house, gasping for breath in long, ragged gulps. Blood caked them, much of it their own, mute testament to the ferocious battle they had fought to escape with their lives. The sickly sweet smell of pot still clung to their nostrils, as if trying to worm its way through their skulls and into their brains. Trixie gave a shudder at the thought.

Blood Beak closed the heavy steel door and began cycling through the myriad locks intended to keep it that way. Trixie shuddered, once, the sweat drenching her coat already gone cold and clammy. “Where’s the shower?” she said, and her voice came out as a croak.

“In the back. Hallway. Can’t miss it.”

Trixie made her way to the promised shower. The bathroom was surprisingly well-provided, with slate floors and brass fixtures. Trixie took it all in as she tromped exhausted into the shower. She shivered again as the hot water hit her from above, this time in pleasure. She lost track of time as she washed the gore off of her water-slicked body, using her magic to give her silvery mane the shampooing it so desperately craved.

All too soon afterwards she was clean. She bowed her head under the stream from the shower head, not wanting to leave. Suddenly she heard a coughing sound from outside and pulled the shower curtain open. Blood Beak was standing there.

“Reported to the boss. He says…”

Blood Beak’s words trailed off as she saw Trixie’s drenched mane peak out from the shower. Trixie gave a laugh, her first real laugh in what seemed like forever. Never failed.

“Don’t worry, big boy,” she crooned as she slid the shower curtain all the way open with her magic. She rose up onto her hind legs and turned the shower off with her hooves, giving him a show. “Look as long as you like.”

She levitated a towel over and started blotting the water off of herself. Slowly.

Blood Beak watched her the entire time. When she was done Trixie gave him a sultry look. “Like what you see, stud?”

The big griffon swallowed. “Yeah.”

Trixie sauntered over to him, giving him a quick appraisal. Beak couldn’t be helped, but those muscles were nice, as was the burgeoning erection she saw between his legs. Yes, she’d had worse. She drew closer, putting her mouth inches away from his ear.

“Get in the shower. I’ll help you…clean up.”

The griffon’s claws nearly gouged furrows in the floor in his rush to comply.