Batmare and the foal wonder!

The regal alicorn mare slowly walked down the grandiose hall to her private suite in Canterlot Castle. Things had been quiet in Trotham lately, too quiet. It was time once again to stick her hoof in and stir up the pot a bit. As the door to her room closed she gazed upon her reflection in the mirror. The smeared lipstick and eye shadow gave her already white face the ghastly impression of an insane clown; not too far from the truth, all things considered.

She lay on an over-sized red velvet pillow and began to concentrate. Her consciousness began to flow out from her physical form like the water from her daily bath flowed out onto the heads of whatever unfortunate ponies happened to be passing below. (A daily ritual she rather enjoyed.) She began to search for a certain thought pattern, excited and random, but it was not in its' usual place. Something was wrong, how could it be so close?

"HIYA!" A bubbly voice that could only be described as menacingly pink buffeted the white mares' eardrums.

"How did you get in here?"

"Silly Jokemare, didn't you want me here? I thought this was the part where you talk a lot until I go all crazy and do what you say but I already think what you have in mind is a super great idea so you don't have to convince me okay?"

"Why is there an alligator biting my flank?" Jokemare growled as she glared at the guilty gator.

"Oh that's just Hypno-gator, he's gonna help because it's no fun playing evil villain on your own and he wanted to help so I said yes and I'm gonna go now buh-byeeeeeeee!"

As the pink mare jumped out of the window she grabbed the gator with one hoof and pulled an over-sized green hat out of nowhere with the other. She somehow waved goodbye with her rear hoof as she disappeared. The disturbance had rattled Jokemare, though she didn't show it outwardly. Surely that silly pink maniac didn't have plans of conquest, and even if she did, she could not stand up to the might of Jokemare... right?

"There, how's that?" The light blue unicorn that fluffed the pillow under Pipsqueaks' head asked in an almost matronly way.

"Much bettew, thanks Poison Joke."

"No no, Poison Joke is being punished in Batmares' prison. We're not Poison Joke unless we're in costume."

"You mean the green one with dark green vines patterned on and Poison joke flowers growing out of it that nopony bothered to describe before?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"So who are you now?"

"We are now to be known as Alfalfa Red!"

"That's a bit of a stretch..."

"No, see? We've got a red bow-tie on!" Sure enough, along with a classic butler suit, Alfalfa had donned a bright red bowtie, which for some reason was crusted with jewels.

"Why are you doing this again?"

"Well, you see, Batmare still has to go out and scream at criminals. So she asked us to watch you while she was gone. At first we were reluctant, but she promised an extended sentence."

"Don't criminals usually want shorter sentences?"

"We believe that Batmare was too lenient in her original sentencing of us. Now how would master Pip like some soup?"

"... Actually, that does sound good."

A shadowy figure, tall building etc., etc. This time, however, all was not right. The night was quiet, too quiet. There was hardly any screaming at all, and certainly no crime related screaming. (The other types didn't concern The Batmare.) As she gazed into the heart of the city, she could sense it, feel it, the rhythmic beating, the flowing pulse. Yes, the city was alive, alive and well; the veins of the city were in no need of a white blood cell to battle the bacteria of evil, not tonight.

Batmare spread her wings, the pleather six-pack abs of her armor flexing with the motion. As she made one final pass for the night, she found her gaze drawn to the rooftop of a nearby structure. A party? Hadn't there been a party there last night, as well? Ah, well, no matter, there were no laws about how many parties you could throw in Trotham, at least not yet.

One soft landing (with no accompanying 'thud') later, Batmare arrived at the secret entrance to her bat-cave. She eyed the petunias and decorative vines that now adorned the portal to her lair. This was new, had somepony found her out? She stepped into her secret space of solitude and shouted "Show yourself, villain, what treachery hast thou wrought?"

"Our apologies, master Luna, what flowers would you prefer decorate the entrance to the Bat-cave?"

"It is a secret entrance to a secret cave, Alfalfa, and I prefer it remain that way. A path lined with flowers is not very secretive."

"Of course, local flora it is, then."

"Thank you, is there any news?"

"The only thing of interest in the Trotham Globe was a passing mention of a party that has lasted two full days."

"Ah, I noticed that on the way home, it was the same party from yesterday, then?"

"Apparently so, sir, something new called a 'Mare-a-thon' party."

"How droll."

"Indeed."

"Quite."

"Naturally."

"Verily."

"But of course."

"Wait, who's talking?"

"We believe you are, sir."

"Ah, certainly."

"Precisely."

"Enough of that, how's my old chum Pip doing?"

"Quite well, we served him some soup earlier and he went straight to sleep."

"Did you put something in the soup?"

"Quite a few things, sir."

"Alfalfa, you're supposed to be on our side!"

"Nothing untoward, we assure you. Just carrots and the like."

"Hmmmm...." Batmare narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the newly reformed butler, but no whiff of malice escaped her pores. "Very well, I shall have to look into this so called Mare-a-thon party, it sounds suspicious."

"It would seem they have sent you an invitation, sir, by personal courier. For some reason she would only accept muffins as payment."

"What? They invited Batmare to their party?"

"Of course not, sir, it is addressed to Princess Luna."

"Ah, well I guess I'd better start warming up..."

"Your sunglasses, sir."

"'Cause I'm about to run this Mare-a-thon!"