The Getaway

by Spittyfire

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Soarin, Alternate Universe, Doctor Whooves, Other, Romance, Adventure, Spitfire
Length: 22996

Everyday, Spitfire sets her whole entire day around being a Wonderbolt. Without ever having time to herself. Once she is fed up with being bossed around like a toy, she has one last hope. A wish to just getaway.

Every morning Spitfire had a routine. Get little sleep, barely eat, and listen to everything your managers tell you. But she began to realize this isn't right, being thrown around like a toy. She did love her fans, but was the subjugated life of her's worth it? Sick and tired, Spitfire is on the verge of giving up. But once she makes a wish, she is encountered by a strange stallion. Who changes her life and creates the perfect getaway.

~Opinions please?

Published 2013-01-20 07:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-20 22:28:11 UTC

Chapter One: Wishes Are For Foals

"Twenty!" the voice rang through the hot unbearable training room, where she heaved up and down doing the painful pushups. Around the room were mirrors facing her, so she may look at her own sweaty face. The sweat dribbled off of her, and made a tiny splash on the red mat, making her hooves feel a bit more slippery. What had this been? Her eightieth push-up probably, and she was anticipated to do more. She turned to the small old clock, glancing at the time quickly before her instructor snapped at her. She couldn't stand her instructor anymore. Desert Eagle. That stallion was as mean as any other commander from the army, but she needed him instead of an instructor that babied her.

Desert Eagle was a former commander of the army when the war had been a problem. But the army was given cutbacks since plenty of peace was restored to Equestria. Desert Eagle was snipped from his job, since he acted as he was supreme compared to everypony else. Which now leads to this point, where Desert Eagle worked everyday to train Spitfire into the best shape she could be. Even if she didn't need it, it was required of her to be a Wonderbolt. It seemed she had to set an example, but she didn't know who was looking at this example. After all these were private sessions. No matter though, Spitfire felt sympathy for Desert Eagle since he was her first trainer in her flight training, and invited him to become her personal trainer. Even though she was regretting her decision, she couldn't fire him now, she had been too deep into the training.

"Fifteen!" the stallion shouted into her ear, pacing back and forth around her, readying to pounce on her like a hawk for its prey. As Spitfire heaved up and down, she had a few of her orange hairs unravel from her fake stuck up form, down towards her hot fiery cheeks. Desert Eagle drove his face into hers examining the tips of her mane. Spitfire tried her best not to wince, but it was hard not to.

"Spitfire, is that your mane becoming bland? Into that style you call casual? It is supposed to stay up Spitfire. Don't be foolish!" he snapped, lifting the hairs back to it's place. The shout had continued to ring in her ear, as she gritted her teeth together.

"Yes sir, sorry sir!" Spitfire replied in her regular relaxed tone, and not her demanding roaring tone. As she winced again waiting for him to scold her again,

"The voice, Spitfire. You can't speak to me like you're a little school girl! Speak to me like a real Wonderbolt!" he shouted, slamming his hoof into the mat, missing her fore hooves by a smidge. The words 'real Wonderbolt' clung to her mind, as he glared at her disappointingly. What in the world was a 'real Wonderbolt' anyway? Some sort of athlete that ponies adore yet behind the scenes, the Wonderbolt was told how to act, live, eat, dress, and basically do everything as told. Like some sort of slave to the media. She only stayed as a Wonderbolt to give hope to her fans... and please those she had failed in the past. As she closed her eyes, staring down at the mat, she gave another more huff and continued to go up and down as told.

"Five more Spitfire! Simple as that. Or are you going to quit? Become like some sort of fragile weakling? You've disappointed your parents enough haven't you?" he questioned her, pacing around her again like a hawk, with an evil expression on his face. Spitfire froze from her pushups and looked into his eyes. She had just broken the no-eye-contact rule. Surely that would've cost her ten laps around Cloudsdale. She stared into Desert Eagle's eyes and gritted her teeth. How dare he. He had just brought up how she failed her parents back then... and it wasn't her fault that they were no longer with her. It was the war's fault, not hers. Why couldn't anypony understand that? After wiping the sweat from her forehead and her mane, she stood up to Desert Eagle, glaring right back at him.

"Never. Never ever bring that up Desert. You know bringing up that up pains me. You know that it wasn't my fault that they died in that tragedy. I'd watch what you say Desert. I will see you next session, I hope you can be a bit more kind to me instead of treating me like dirt." she warned, turning away from him and heading towards her velvet gym bag. She tied her mane up into a ponytail and threw the back over her shoulder. Desert Eagle watched her leave, adjusting his rack of badges as if he was a somebody.

"Spitfire, I didn't know the subject bothered a mare like you so much. Heck, it's so tough to get you pumped up that I was at that point." he tried to explain. Spitfire shook her head, wiping her hooves on the green sticky carpet by the iron door in which she came in from.

"And there aren't enough ponies who have sympathy around here! Once again Desert, see you next session..." Spitfire called and waved dismissingly, heading down the old wooden stairs. Oh why did Desert Eagle have to bring up her parents? After all, she had enough pressures to worry about. Between pleasing the Boss, going to photo shoots, parties, meetings, trainings, get-togethers, interviews, races, autograph signings and many more projects, she felt that her head was going to explode.

Spitfire stopped at the main floor of the gym and peered over at the jocks lifting weights. They looked like bulky, hunky, monkey-like stallions that took magic dust to get stronger. As they waved over for her to join them, she didn't budge. Those stallions had only liked her because she was a Wonderbolt, nothing more. Either that or they were going to ask her to snap on her Wonderbolt suit and show them some moves. Those pigs, utterly disgusting, they could go show each other some moves.

She opened up the gym door and peeked out at the shining sun, and the bright sky. She squinted, but placed on some sunglasses instead, her eyes hurting from the brightness. Looking around, she took a step out of the gym, and wondered what she was going to do today. If only she could just throw out her schedule and go shopping with her friends like every other mare did that was her age. As she trotted along the clouds, she heard a few snaps near her. Not the snapping of twigs, or firecrackers, but paparazzi's cameras.

They were always on her like little mosquitos that needed a good swat. Spitfire continued to trot faster, to avoid them but they just kept snapping photos. Through the years she began to get used to the snaps and the clicks. Instead of paying attention to them, she pretended they were really... really annoying birds. But some of the paparazzi's questions had got to her. There was always that one lilac filly who jammed the camera near her face and asked.

"When will you and your mate make it official?" she would ask constantly. Spitfire hadn't even told anypony about her special somepony. Yet she was asked who he was. It simply did not make sense, and the questions about her relationship with him fizzled, even if the paparazzi didn't know who he was. Maybe it was best that she shouldn't announce it to the world. Although she really wanted to know who couldn't keep their mouth shut, it would make it easier to get rid of friends who would stab her in the back. And boy, those kind of ponies had been really annoying.

She strode her way towards a perfect spot to lose them, a simple large puffy cloud that was a bit distant from the main road. She looked from left to right, seeing them running up to her to approach her with more never ending questions. Looking around once more, she leapt off of the main road and into the puffy cloud, holding her breath while inside of it. This was one of her favorite perfect escapes. Cozy, sneaky, well placed spot to sneak away from being chased. Hearing the murmurs of the ponies wondering where she went, the paparazzi all bolted off in different directions.

Spitfire poked her head out looking from left to light seeing the sun lowering a bit. Instantly, she darted out of the cloud and onto the main road, galloping towards one of her favorite places in Cloudsdale. Not because of what it was there for, but because there was somepony there that she could always talk to. After all, she was underage to drinking. This had been The Pub. An old, vine covered bar with roses growing from the sides, and just about everything inside was mahogany. Simple to clean up incase the drunks got too sick. As she entered inside on the red velvet carpet, she smiled as the drunkards all called her name, whooping and shouting for her. She just laughed, and waved to them, and sat at the bar with former Wonderbolt, Kitty.

Kitty was an older Wonderbolt, the Co-Captain. Kitty was supposed to be the Captain of the Wonderbolts, until one fatal accident where her left wing snapped in half. Spitfire preferred to not talk about it, since it had been the time when the two were rivals. But after Kitty had her injury, the two seemed to have become really good friends, even if Kitty had one artificial wing instead of two beautiful ones.

"Hey Spit!" Kitty grinned, opening up a bottle of cherry champagne. Spitfire placed herself in a stool next to Kitty and looked at the bottle of fizzy cherry.

"Kitty, may I ask for some advice from you?" Spitfire asked smiling at her Kitty's cotton candy colored mane. Or was it a wig...?

"Of course Spitfire, you know I'll always be here for you! I used to be like your ma right? And you used to encourage me to keep going. Even with broken lefty ova' here!" Kitty cackled trying to stretch her wings, but failed. Although Kitty was approaching thirty, Spitfire didn't find her old. For some reason, Kitty always complained how old she was getting, and how she deserved to be young forever. Spitfire thought otherwise, thinking that thirty wasn't old, Kitty was probably just too dramatic. Yet, it wasn't Kitty but the media who preferred the fresh and new ponies other than the older ones. Perhaps Kitty had been gorgeous when she was young, and now she was slowly becoming an old alcoholic. But Spitfire could do nothing but watch because Kitty had that stubborn attitude.

"Uh... Kittiana to Spitfire over?" Kitty coughed trying to get Spitfire's attention, before indulging in another sip. Spitfire shook her head back to reality and looked at Kitty.

"Sorry Kitty, I have a lot going on, but I have a question. What did you do when you had such an imploding schedule, and so many ponies to please that you wanted to explode?" Spitfire asked, curious to see how Kitty reacted to pressure, while fixing her ponytail. Kitty placed her glass cup on the bar table and cleared her groggy throat.

"Well Spitfire, when I felt like giving up, I said a little... a little poem to myself. You know what I'll call it a script alright? Yeah... yeah a script. And it has those words that those unicorns like to write, long and meaningful. Fancy-shmancy. Well when I took a little trip to Canterlot, I was given a paper with these calming words on them. Here, I think it should go to somepony who deserves it." Kitty began to slur, handing Spitfire an old wrinkly paper with words written in script, curly script to be exact. That's what they called in Cloudsdale, they weren't too fond of writing up there.

Spitfire held the paper delicately seeing the tear drops and the splattered champagne corners. Perhaps Kitty really liked to read this... a bit too much. As Kitty slurred for another glass of champagne, Spitfire began to read the scrap of paper.

"To whomever reads this, I hope you are planning for a wish to come true. Not just any wish, your wish. Something you've been craving for. Regardless to whether it's having a lack of satisfaction in your life, or your overwhelmed, or your suffering, there's this paper that is going to help your wish come true. First I need you to kneel by your window. Yes your window, keep your elbows on the windowsill please. Make sure the time is around midnight. Right where the moon is pitched in the middle of the sky. Once you do this, make sure your eyes are closed, and focus on that one thing your wishing for. You have to wish so hard that you're going to shiver. Remember one more thing, you are not wishing on the moon, you must pick a star. Any star you want, just pick one that interests you in someway. Now go! Wish! What are you waiting for?

--This was made for Twinkle, who didn't know how to wish.

Spitfire looked up from the paper and glanced back to Kitty. Kitty smiled, with a drunk look on her face. Not too surprising since Kitty was an alcoholic in denial.

"Kitty, this makes no sense at all. Wishing on stars is for foals! Did you forget my age? I'm eighteen not seven Kitty. Are you sure you didn't ask a unicorn to write this for you? Possibly when you were drunk?" Spitfire asked in disbelief of the words. Wishing was for little foals that were hopeless. Even if she did feel pretty hopeless, this junk would never work.

"Spitfire this is for your... your own good. After all, I'm the one who gives you advice, no?" Kitty slurred, now unable to pick up her glass. Spitfire gave a worried look and was about to crumple up the paper, but had the urge not to. Maybe she could give the script one simple chance.

"Fine Kitty, but this is a rather... silly way of having something happen. Do you need me to assist you home?" Spitfire asked kindly, slightly moving the glass away from Kitty.

"No, no Spitfire. I... I got it! Old righty here knows how to get in gear," Kitty slurred, patting Spitfire on the back. Then Kitty turned towards the bartender and slammed her hoof on the mahogany counter top. "Twenty bits for some of that dope magic ya'll ponies got back there!" She hollered, and headed towards the bathroom, waving to her young friend. Spitfire giggled at Kitty and hopped off of her chair and out the door, covered in vines and roses. She placed her glasses back on and checked her watch. It was almost time for dinner, and she had a meeting to attend. Tapping her chin on whether to attend or not, she realized that the script seemed pretty important, even if it was really silly.

"The meeting can wait," Spitfire told herself and bolted along each cloud, skipping and hopping. "Time to see if wishes really do come true."

Chapter Two: The Stranger

Spitfire calmly approached the gates of her house, entering in a few key-numbers and the gate opening up, with a robotic tune.

"Welcome Spitfire, enjoy the rest of your day." Said the robotic voice. Spitfire nodded as if this was a real pony, I guess she was acting a bit childish today. From yelling at her instructor, then listening to a drunk friend's advice on wishes, and now she seemed to think she was going to start a conversation with her safety gates. Shaking her head, she continued along the large path towards her house, seeing a rather large house in the distance. A posh house, with a security camera bolted next to it. Instead of dashing towards her house, Spitfire took her time and breathed in the lovely air, smelling a pine scent as she trotted along the path. It seemed odd how now she decided to just calmly walk glancing at the fauna, instead of dashing inside.

She easily skipped over her stone path, now heading onto her lovely white birch porch, opening up her velvet gym bag to take out her keycard. It seemed more like a key-guard since everypony cared for her safety so much. She stuck the keycard into a gold slot next to her door, hearing an old fashioned buzz and the door creaked open. Lovely technology, as it seemed to become more and more advanced by the day. Spitfire zipped up her gym bag and threw it on her leather couch near the kitchen.

Spitfire's house was decorated modernly with white smooth marble beams, and mahogany flooring. Her walls resembling the marble too, pure white. She trotted into the kitchen looking for something to eat. After all, she didn't even have a simple slice of bread at The Pub. As Spitfire glanced at the stacks of food she was granted, she found soup cans, bean cans, bread, energy drinks, bags of some sort of advertiser she was doing a commercial for, bottle of oils and vinegars, and anything you could really think of. But Spitfire didn't find any need for those things, even if it was lovely to have them. What Spitfire loved was the snack she and her special somepony made together.

Hot Sugar Cookies. A small recipe her and her special somepony made together and continued to do. They were just regular sugar cookies from the packet, dipped in steaming hot chocolate, with marshmallows that somehow sunk to the bottom, instead of bobbing at the top. It was her little special thing she loved to do with him. But she frowned when she saw the mug they had been dipping sugar cookies into, with a slight dark chunky brown in the cup. Shivering, she poured it out and placed the mug into the Insta-washer. Spitfire sighed, forgetting about eating anything and heading to her room with her gym bag.

She opened up her golden knob into her bedroom, which was probably one of the most casual room of them all. A regular old bed, a medium sized window, a closet, and posters scattered along the wall about Wonderbolts. Spitfire turned on the light to see there had been a tiger lily placed on her bed. Her favorite flower. She picked up the lily, sniffing it a bit and smiling. Spitfire really did love this flower, of course her special somepony knew her well. The aura around her felt so pleasant, so comforting it was as if he was next to her. She threw her gym bag onto the floor and climbed into her red bed. She just lied there staring at her ceiling without draping the covers over herself.

As she looked up at her ceiling she remembered the small advice Kitty gave her. But Kitty had been drunk... and drunk advice never ended well. So, why not? Even if she did look silly while performing a wish, no one would be watching, hopefully. Spitfire hopped off of her bed and opened up her not-too-big window, looking out into the beautiful night. Fireflies glowed in the distance, mingling happily with each other. Spitfire placed her elbows to the windowsill and looked up into the sky. She tried her best to think of a wish, and once she did, she decided she needed a star. As her eyes gazed from one star to another in the moonlight, she caught her eyes on a certain star.It was a bright shining blue star, a beautiful blue that almost blended into the night, but somehow it popped out between the others. Pinpointing on the star, she closed her eyes and began to say her wish.

"Uh hey there star... it's me Spitfire. It seems I'm having a problem here in my 'easy' life. I know I should be happy for what I have, but I'm not. I want to just... just getaway! I'm tired of being used everyday of my life, if you can help me I mean that would be great. I want something big to happen in my life." she whispered to the star, squeezing her own hooves. After a few moments of silence, she opened her eyes.

"W-What the?" she paused to see that her star was magically gone. It had been there though, right in front of her? What could've happened to it? "Impossible..." she mumbled to herself searching for the star in the sky. Did her wish burn the star out? It could've been a really strong wish... perhaps it was such a big wish that the star had either exploded or just burnt in thin air! Spitfire continued to kneel there, waiting for the star to come back. Yet nothing had happened, how strange.

She went to stand up heading towards her bed, only to hear a very faint whooshing noise. She bolted her head back out the window, seeing nothing had changed. Maybe it was just the birds making odd noises. It had to be, but she slowly worried that there weren't birds flocking at this time. As the whooshing noise seemed to become louder and louder, she turned away from the window slowly with her eyes widening to the size of the moon.

Right in front of her was some sort of blue box. It had appeared to be a bit of a darker blue compared to the star she wished on in the sky. Yet on the box were a few signs saying 'Pull to Open' and 'Police Box' at the top. Spitfire bit her lip, not really having any idea of what was happening. Slowly, she backed away, almost out of the window. Whatever was in front of her, it wasn't safe by the looks of it. Everything was still for a few moments with an awkward tension of silence, but Spitfire just stared at the box. Until she noticed that it had been scraping her ceiling, causing embers to scrape onto the ground. Seeing the embers falling off caused her to stomp onto them rapidly. While she was stomping on the embers, the box creaked open, with a brown hoof opening it. The face hadn't been revealed, but her heart was pounding.

"State your name and why are you here?" Spitfire demanded, and grabbed the table lamp from her small table near her bed, decorated in family photos, and small jars full of knickknacks. The mysterious figure poke it's head out of the box. It was a brown coated, stallion. He had been a bit taller than her, he even wore an odd jacket and he looked a bit... handsome. The stallion cleared his throat and stepped onto her carpet, glancing at his surroundings.

"Another ging', great. Hey, is this Romaneia?" he asked pulling out this thing that looked like a pen, but it seemed more like a glow stick. Spitfire had never seen one of these before, was this unicorn magic? And where was Romaneia? He began to wave around the glow stick along her room, searching through her things.

"Get out of my things! Did you not hear me? Why are you here?" she demanded again, stamping her hoof to the ground. She had picked up his accent, yet she couldn't figure out where he was from. It sounded like he was from Trottingham probably. He stopped searching her things and trotted up to her with a stern look.

"And I asked if this was Romaneia, and you didn't answer. I don't think you can hear me. I guess I shall be off." the stallion sighed, lifting up his glow stick and turned back to the box, away from her. As the stallion was ready to open up the box's door again, Spitfire felt some sort of pressure. She had to do this, she couldn't just let him leave, she needed to know who he was. In the spur of the moment, she whacked him across the head with the lamp, making a loud crashing noise. The stallion instantly fell to his knees and face planted onto the mahogany flooring.

Spitfire stood there, shocked at what she had just done. She dropped the lamp in which she was holding onto the ground, still in shock. What in the world had just done? She guessed that it was some sort of defensive overwhelming shock probably. After all, she did have those fears from time to time, trauma from the war. Shaking her head to snap out of it, she jolted down next to the stallion, finding a big swollen bruise next to his right ear, with some blood leaking out. Spitfire's eyes welled up with tears a bit.

What if she killed him? What if the press was going to find out? Oh would Kitty be so disappointed in her. As if things couldn't get worse, she heard the doorbell ring. She stood, and looked out from her window, to see her special somepony on her porch waiting there with a box of apple pie in his hooves. Things were far too worse now. Spitfire turned towards her bed, yanked off the blanket, and covered the stallion with it. Then she darted to the window, slamming it shut, pulling the curtains to cover the window. She resisted to peer out the window one more time, and she did. As she looked outside she saw him becoming impatient.

"I don't know if you can hear me stranger, but don't wake up!" Spitfire pleaded and bolted out of her room, fumbling down the stairs. As she stopped at the start of the stairs, she looked at her door nervously. She just hoped deep in her heart, that he wouldn't come inside and see what was going on upstairs. Things were way too unexplainable, she knew that he wouldn't believe him if she explained. Taking a deep breath, she opened up her front door.

"Hey Soarin'!" Spitfire smiled, trying her best not to show any nervous feelings. Soarin' held the apple pie happily, placing it in Spitfire's hooves.

"I got it for you Spit, I couldn't help myself at the shops. And I wasn't thinking about myself with the pie, I just couldn't stop thinking of you." Soarin' blushed, kissing her on the cheek. Spitfire blushed back to him and walked out of the door next to him, slightly closing it behind her.

"Why not we sit on the porch? After all, it's a lovely night. We can split the pie, share a kiss." she insisted, already placing herself onto one of the deck chairs on the corner of her porch. Spitfire placed the steaming pie with an apple scented aura onto the fence, letting it cool. Soarin' noticed the nervous tension she had and exchanged his glance for a concerned one.

"Spitfire, are you alright? You seem a bit odd tonight. No offense," he said with a worrying tone.

"I'm fine Soar', I actually feel better that you're here." She blushed, seeing that his worry had left and he leaned in towards her. Spitfire leaned back towards him, ready for that perfect kiss that she dreamed of just about every night. Until her front door was opened and the stallion that she thought was out cold, was standing there wrapped in her blanket.

"You better look out for that ging' she hits hard." The stallion chuckled, rubbing his swollen bruise. Spitfire felt like she was going to melt in front of the two. She was going to lose Soarin' because of this damned stranger! Soarin' looked at her with a hurt look instead of an angered one.

"Spitfire, who... who is this?" Soarin' asked beaming at her and then the stallion. He gritted his teeth at the sly smirk on the stallion's face. But that was just his face, he wasn't really trying to be sly. Spitfire looked down, ashamed, not knowing how to explain. What could she say? That she wished on a star, a blue giant box appeared in her bedroom, and this weird stallion came out of it? She stuttered for what to say to the one she cared for.

"Soarin' I'm afraid I can't explain, you wouldn't believe me," she managed to say. The stallion's face became from a sly one to a meaning sorrowful one, seeing what he had just caused. He trotted up to the troubled from the door, and put his hooves onto Spitfire's shoulders.

"Sir, I'm afraid you're getting this all wrong. She's not even good at whacking!" he tried to explain, but he lacked to realize what he said came out in all the wrong ways. Soarin' narrowed his eyes at Spitfire and picked up his apple pie from the fence.

"I trusted you Spit, why would you do this to me?" he said with hurtful eyes. Spitfire's eyes watered and she sniffled, reaching out her hoof, hoping he would grab onto her, and hug her tightly. But Soarin' turned away and walked off of her porch.

"Please don't go Soarin'! I love you," she called watching Soarin' leave her behind, carrying the apple pie she wished they shared. "Wait Soarin'! Can I at least have the apple pie to remember you?" She at least wanted to sob, while thinking of him. Soarin' turned around with anger shown on his face. He lifted the apple pie, and launched it, the pie smashing into Spitfire's face.

Spitfire stood there with the apples falling down her face, her eyes sealed shut. She began to make a horrible weeping sound, which sounded like she was going to scream. The stallion didn't really know what to do, but he watched the apple-y substance fall down from her face to the porch. He took one hoof, and placed it back onto her shoulder.

"Come on dear, ponies come and go. It's normal! I didn't mean to do this, I swear," he tried to explain to her meaningfully. After a few moments of her weeping, she turned towards him without wiping the muck off of her face.

"Whoever you are, whatever you are, I need to know something. What are you trying to do? Are you just trying to make my life worse?" she sniffled looking at him, with tears streaming down her face. The stallion looked at her sincerely trying to smile to cheer her up.

"No dear, I had no intentions on causing this. Now let's go inside in clear you up, huh?" he insisted, leading her inside.

"Well, who are you?" she sniffled. The stallion didn't answer yet, he just headed into her kitchen and looked for something to clean her up with. Spitfire sighed, and threw herself onto the couch, waiting for him to get the muck off of herself. Spitfire felt like dying there, her life was completely ruined because of him, yet she invited him into her home and let him clean her up. It didn't matter though, her happiness seemed to be completely drained now. The stallion came back to her with a damp towel in his hooves. He helped her sit up, and sat next to her and began to clean the muck off of her. He cleared his throat and continued to clean her up.

"I'm the Doctor. And I'm here to help you."

Chapter Three: The Taste of Adventure

"That's a weird name. Your name is your occupation?" Spitfire asked, dunking in a few of her sugar cookies into her hot chocolate. The Doctor shivered at her doing this. It wasn't normal to him. He didn't even understand why she was smiling at the taste. It made absolutely no sense, and it even looked unflattering. Chocolate and sugar cookies? That would simply sugar up the body causing fat. How unhealthy, and unneeded. The Doctor was too good for cookies, proteins were his treats. He almost chuckled seeing how he thought of himself as a manly stallion, yet he was creating recipes with a mixer in a fancy, unused kitchen. He glanced at her before opening her fridge.

"I'm not a doctor who fixes up ponies' boo-boos. I am something... a bit more special," he corrected her, searching her fridge to find plenty of foods to make so many things. So many choices... too overwhelming. This was his chance to make his own protein shake, like the amazing labels and fascinating tastes.

"Well Doctor, I am Spitfire. I bet you've heard of me before though," she said calmly, finding some crust in her mane-tips.

"I already know that your name is Spitfire, dear," he laughed, finding a mixer in the cabinet. It was so new, did Spitfire even use these supplies? It looked as if it was only used once, and it was still in the box. Spitfire really needed to use her supplies, or he would plan on taking it himself. But he would not do that, he would not forgive himself if he did that.

"How did you know my name? I mean, I am famous and everything, but is that the only reason why you know me? I feel like just about everyone knows me for being a Wonderbolt, and nothing more," she explained, a bit disappointed, she guessed that he had not known her for anything else important.

"A Wonder-what?" he asked rummaging in her cabinets now. "I've never heard of a Wonderbolt, but I heard you from up there," he replied, pointing upwards.

"There? As in...?" she asked, waiting for him to respond. Yet he did not, how peculiar. He just continued going through her things.There was no point in scolding him, after all it wasn't like she had somepony to talk to at the ongoing moment. But what had he meant by 'up there'?

"Wait, wait. You are a star?" Spitfire gasped, but shook her head. "You cannot be a star, how do I even know you are real? In fact, my friend was drunk before. Insanely drunk, and maybe now I'm drunk too. Maybe I'm just imagining all of this, you are not real!" she exclaimed, still pondering if this was a reality or not.

"Spitfire, I'm not a star. Do I look like a flaming ball of gas? I hope I don't, otherwise your house would be on fire. The star you saw was my lovely blue box upstairs. I was in there, dillydallying, and I was tuning in on different stations when somehow your wish interrupted my signal. It was weird, since many ponies wish and yet your wish was picked up by my signal," he chuckled at Spitfire's shocked facial expression.

"You're telling me that you and you're blue box up in my room were floating in space, and you just so happened to hear my wish for hope in my life?" she questioned him, finding this hard to believe. The Doctor smirked, as if he had been answering this question many times.

"My job is to help those in need in this universe and beyond. To save those before the society they are in corrupts. Yet, it's not really my job! I do it for fun, and I do have a conscious," the Doctor responded, finding the perfect ingredients for his recipe. Spitfire crossed her hooves and still looked at him disbelievingly.

"I still don't believe you," she grumbled, remaining cross-hooved. Only moving her hoof to eat another sugar cookie. Oh they were so delectable. The Doctor rolled his eyes and pulled out cans of tuna, and plopping them into the mixer, not bothering to do it slowly. Just one big plop.

"If you don't believe me, then why haven't you kicked me out yet?" the Doctor interrogated her. Then he grabbed a can of whipped cream and tasted a bit in his mouth. Ah, just to make his concoction a bit sweeter. Spitfire didn't know how to respond back to him. In all honesty, she had no idea why she didn't kick him out in the first place. If he was anypony else, she would've bucked them out into the skyline. Why hadn't she done it with him though?

"Well... I think it is because I'm lonely alright? And just maybe you were in the star I wished on, and you somehow came to help me, it just doesn't seem real," Spitfire admitted, watching him plop in some of her rather-becoming-old sardines into the mixer.

"There's a question on your mind though. I know you are dying to ask me something," he said over the rumbling of the mixer, causing the fish and cream to become one whole liquid. How disgusting... Spitfire thought she was going to hurl, but that wouldn't be ladylike. Even if she didn't really have any self confidence after her little fight with Soarin'.

"Yes there is, and it is... well... what in Equestria are you doing?" Spitfire asked, looking away from the mixer and at his eyes, finally making eye-contact.

"Don't get off subject Spitfire. It's just I really do like proteins, after all, I am in great shape. Aren't I?" he bragged, chuckling a bit. Spitfire rolled her eyes, surely he wasn't really going to drink that nasty grime he had created. She wondered for a moment if it was going to pop out of the mixer and jump onto the Doctor's face.

"Then what's with the whipped cream? I don't believe there are any proteins in that," Spitfire mentioned, taking a sip of her normal, warm, satisfying cocoa.

"A true stallion enjoys a bit of sweetness in his life," he chuckled. "But I'm afraid you're not telling me the question that is brewing your mind." He stated, picking up his concoction and sipping it, not afraid to make one big gulp sound. Spitfire had to turn away completely, covering her mouth with her hoof. The sight was ever-so unappetizing.

"I am not changing the subject. It's just funny how you seem right most of the time. You must be a mind reader. After all, you must be plenty of things right? You're from space, and you have a teleporting box. Amazing!" Spitfire said sarcastically. The Doctor adjusted his old red bowtie that was sharply around his neck, above his old jacket.

"The question is Spitfire, who is the Doctor? Why is he so fetching? Why does he have a big blue box up in your bedroom? And why oh why hasn't he proved anything he's been saying to you?" the Doctor chuckled, finishing drinking up his concoction with a loud slurp.

"Once again, you're a bit scary to be honest. Maybe you really are a mind reader. I don't know who you are, or what you are. But you're just so..." she paused, searching for words.

"Weird. I'm the weirdest pony you'll ever meet Spitfire. And there are plenty of questions that I'm going to have to answer for you, and I'm completely okay with that. But I am very weird... abstract perhaps. I want you to come with me Spitfire. The good thing is, is that you're not going to meet many ponies like me if you stay here and mope. Cos I can just go back in my box, and never be seen again," the Doctor told her, trying to encourage her to come with him. Meanwhile, Spitfire was rubbing her hooves along the warm mug, thinking of Soarin' deeply. Perhaps she did need to take her mind off the drama for a bit.

The Doctor glanced at her as she was in thought and turned back to the mess he made. He placed the cup and the mixer glass in the sink and scrubbed it away. As he scrubbed the mixer he saw a bit of the sardines stuck inside the sides of the glass. As soon as he saw the sardines, he thought of Amy. Oh Amy, why did he let her go so easily? He could've done more... he definitely could of. This time he wasn't going to lose anyone else now. He was going to do everything in his power to keep her safe. After all, he was getting older now, and much more mature. What was he now, 1,200? Sure, not like he bothered to remember.

Spitfire cleared her throat and stopped her thought train. This had been a big decision, and if she was to make the wrong choice, she could suffer the immense consequences. But why did that matter anymore? It wasn't like she had much to look forward to now. She was completely tired of the drama and looked at the Doctor with a stern, sure-of-herself look and sniffled.

"Alright Doctor, you win. Show me this blue box, and that you heard me from space. You might be telling me the truth, possibly, but I can't believe you until you show me this is actually having. Prove it to me! Prove it to me, stranger," Spitfire said, standing from the kitchen counter's leather seat and headed upstairs to her bedroom. The Doctor quickly placed his rag and the cleaned mixer onto the counter and dashed up the stairs following her.

"Spitfire, are you really sure about this?" The Doctor questioned her one last time, standing in her bedroom's doorway. Spitfire bolted into her room, and went to her mirror, taking out the bits of the pie that was left, and fixed up her hair. Even if it wasn't needed, she wanted to look her best. Maybe he was telling the truth... she didn't want to look completely odd. Spitfire looked back at him through the mirror and smirked.

"I'm very sure of myself Doctor. This'll be a quick trip won't it? We'll stand in your cramped box for a moment, then feel awkward for another moment. They'll probably be a unicorn strapped to the ceiling to do a little trick, and finally I'll come back here, and we will probably never see one another again." Spitfire laughed, putting on a bathrobe. The Doctor looked at all her lovely clothes hanging around the room and then at her robe. She couldn't wear anything else more appealing? It seemed none of his new companions could care less about what they wore when they started off with him. Yet he didn't know if Spitfire was willing to be his companion. She turned back towards him away from the mirror and looked at him and his shabby box.

"Surely I'll have time to come home and bathe. This won't take long probably, it'll be a quick second and I'll be home. Now show me your amazing space traveling box!" Spitfire said obnoxiously on the right side of the blue box. The Doctor gave her an annoyed look, oh she really did need to shut up before she was proven wrong.

"You better watch your mouth dear. You'll get into plenty of situations, and you'll possibly be eaten alive out there," the Doctor warned. "Now before you ask million questions, yes, it's bigger on the inside." he chuckled, and opened his blue box. As soon as the door was opened, Spitfire's jaw dropped. This wasn't real, it was impossible! It was bigger on the inside. Much bigger! Perhaps it was the size of her bathroom, bedroom, and her balcony. This had to be some sort of unicorn magic, but for some unapparent reason, she found it somewhat real.

"Yes, yes dear. It's bigger on the inside. And no it's not unicorn magic or witchcraft. This is my lovely TARDIS! Take the time to admire her. Cos in here, you have all the time you've ever wanted," he cheerily told her, going up some gray steps and towards a console in the middle of the TARDIS. The console was decorated in buttons and levers, and a few monitors. Around the room was lights of green, walls of orange, tubes everywhere, hanging from the ceiling and all sorts of sounds coming from around the room. In the center of the TARDIS was a tube in the middle of the console, with a strange liquid bouncing slowly around in it. The room was spacious, so fantastic, this couldn't have been real.

"A-Alright Doctor, where's the magic in all this? I'm guessing that blue box is some sort of portal... but that doesn't make any sense! No... this can't be real. How is this happening?" Spitfire grasped for words, slowly believing that this wasn't some sort of magic show.

"Dear, all this is just... wibbley wobbley timey wimey stuff. I'll pinch you if you want, this is really real! Because this is all really happening," he tried to persaude her, looking away from the amazed Spitfire towards his console. Spitfire placed her hooves towards her forehead, she was starting to grow a migraine. She slowly trotted up to him cautiously.

"Pinch me... pinch me pl-" she was interrupted by a sudden sharp pain and she squealed. She rubbed her shoulder and stared at the Doctor.

"There you go, a wonderful rambunctious pinch! Are you still in you're little daydream? Because I'd love to have you with me. I'm rather lonely.. are you positive you want to come with me?" he asked slowly, just incase she was still a bit out of it. Spitfire gave him a longing look. For some reason, she felt safe around the Doctor. As if Soarin' was beside her. Maybe she could show Soarin' how brilliant this was. If he loved her again... he had to love her again! They were the best fliers, the two of them together. It was be even more brilliant to fly with him through space! She nodded politely at the Doctor.

"I am positive I want to go with you Doctor. I need to be with somepony more than ever. Because I need this so much. An opportunity to just getaway," Spitfire smiled, and looked anxiously at him. The Doctor nodded at her, wishing he had a hat to tip at her.

"Well then, we have much to see, much to do," he quickly spoke, flipping switches and jamming buttons. "You can see anything you want Spitfire. We can go anywhere in the universe! Now, where would you like to go?"

Chapter Four: The Inquisitive Ginger

"Seriously? Out of all the places in the universe you want to go there?" the Doctor exclaimed, flipping more switches. Spitfire glared at the Doctor with an unpleasant facial expression. It was very blank, as if she was watching two older stallions play chess with each other. She never enjoyed games like that, so dull.

"Why not Doctor? It's a lovely place," Spitfire tried to smile. The Doctor looked up at Spitfire from the console, at her sheepish smile. She was so young, so appealing, so fetching. Oh why was he thinking about her like this? He tried to tell himself to stop thinking about her, so he just replied back in a lame smile. Surely her creativity would increase as they would travel together. But the Doctor couldn't be so sure that she would stay with him for long. For all he knew, this could be their only adventure.

"Sorry dear, once you've traveled to so many places, you want to... go to more places that are in your preference. I mean really, the place you picked isn't what I expected." the Doctor replied, glancing up at his monitor from time to time.

"I have a question Doctor. I recall that you called this box the TARDIS. Not to mention it's a she? What in Equestria does that mean?" Spitfire asked, placing herself onto the old railing. The railing didn't seem very trustworthy to sit on, but it seemed there weren't many places to sit near him. The Doctor multitasked, swaying around the TARDIS, and tapping buttons while peering at Spitfire. Oh he deserved a metal for multitasking, and many more things that he had accomplished.

"Well, she's called the TARDIS for a reason. She stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space. She can travel through time and space at either time or space, or both. And yes, she's a she. I've met her in person at one time. It's hard to explain Spitfire." he explained to her, and typed onto the multiple buttons.

"What, time travel?" Spitfire gasped. More things that she still didn't believe just continued to happen it seemed. She guessed that there were more things that he would tell her, and there would be more things for her to try to believe in. She was the type of mare that wanted proof to see if things were real, even if she did enjoy imagining things from time to time.

"What? You thought this was just some sort of spaceship? It's much more than it seems. Oh I forgot!" the Doctor exclaimed, stopping from tapping on the console and stood in front of her. "Why not you look outside with me?" he suggested, and headed up to the TARDIS's doors. Spitfire followed him, and thought for a bit.

"Doctor, it's deep space out there isn't it? The only pony whose been out in space is Princess Luna, and she is an alicorn, so of course she can breathe in space. But obviously we can't. Wouldn't we like... lose oxygen and completely die? I thought you were the time and space traveler here!" Spitfire questioned him, beginning to back away from him and the door.

The Doctor looked at her; she seemed a bit scared so he didn't plan on shoving her out into space like he did with Amy. This time he was going to show her that he was trustworthy. Even if shoving was more fun than instructing, he was going to show her he wasn't too unpredictable or unsafe to be around.

"No dear, there is a barrier around the TARDIS full of oxygen. The barrier will keep the oxygen around us so we can breathe safely. Now don't use those wings of yours, I don't want you to float out of the barrier and into space. That won't be good now will it?" the Doctor chuckled. He reached his hooves onto the door, and opened it up slowly and dramatically. What the Doctor had said was really true.

The scene around the TARDIS was astonishing. Stars were scattered across the sky, there had been so many of them everywhere. She had thought that the stars were closer though. Yet, they were still far away in beautiful shades and hues of many colors. She noticed there had been distant planets too, and the sun was far, far away. The scene around them was so breathtaking that it seemed her eyes froze onto the scene. Hopefully she just was amazed, and not frozen from shock of her surroundings. Spitfire finally closed her eyes and took in the scene.

The Doctor stood beside her watching her reaction, she hadn't even been floating out of the TARDIS and she was amazed. He kind of wanted to go back to the console, since he had done this so many times. After all he was quite old, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen space before. But for some reason, he wanted to stay and watch the scene with her. It seemed he had been traveling so much that he never could stop and enjoy the view.

"Go ahead. You can step outside. Just hold my hoof, no spreading your wings." he said as she was staring into space, literally. Spitfire pulled up her bathrobe so that it would overlap her wings just in case.

"Okay, here I go." she nodded, and grabbed his hoof, cautiously stepping out of the TARDIS. As soon as both of her hooves were off of the floor, she had been floating without any wings! It was outstanding, unimaginably fantastic. It had felt a bit like flying, but it was altered. It had felt as if she didn't have to do anything to fly. She just had to hold onto the Doctor's hoof, and take calm breathes. She closed her eyes again, feeling that this was like being underwater, except she could breathe without hesitation. The moment was unforgettable, as if she had been in a dream.

"Alright, Spitfire back inside. You've been out there for age’s now." the Doctor complained, carefully pulling her back in. Spitfire remained with an amazed expression as the Doctor closed up the TARDIS's doors again.

"I have so many questions Doctor..." Spitfire told him, as if her mouth was going to open up and explode with questions.

"Go ahead dear, ask," he told her, flipping levers up and down.

"First off, are you from Equestria? Cause I can picture you in a basement building this... TARDIS." Spitfire said while pacing around the core.

"No Spitfire, I'm from Gallifrey, a planet which lies in the constellation of Kasterborous. It's very far from where we are now, and also your home. Also, the major race of Gallifrey is the one and only, Time Lord race." the Doctor answered without hesitation.

"So, that means you're an alien. Oh is this like a costume you're wearing? Is there a slimy grimy midget alien that's controlling you in there? Or are you even alive?" Spitfire asked nosily, tapping on his chest, with a rather charming tone. The Doctor glared at her, and stopped from his typing on the console. He grabbed her by her fore hooves and placed them on his mane and cheeks rapidly.

"I'm real Spitfire, I'm almost like you, but I have two hearts. Plus I'm... maybe a tad smarter than you." the Doctor said, trying to get his point across. Spitfire moved away from him, and went to the other side of the core, rubbing her hooves when he wasn't looking.

"So you're saying that I'm an alien? Funny how that actually makes some sort of sense," she noted to him, now standing beside him by the console. He glanced at her, seeing she was biting her lip. He rolled his eyes giving her the signal to go ahead and blurt out all of her ridiculous questions.

"How old are you? Where's your favorite place to travel to? Why is the TARDIS a police box? Have you had other mares here? And what's with that ancient tie on your neck? And is there a Mrs. in your life?" Spitfire rapidly interrogated him, like any foal would to their parents for just about anything. The Doctor sighed, this mare seemed to inquisitive to have around.

"I'm over 1,200 years old. My favorite place to travel to… well I can't tell you that. That's a personal secret of mine. And the TARDIS looks like a police box because I can't bother to fix the camouflage issue, but it looks rather impressive doesn't it? After all, my TARDIS hasn't given me a problem about how she looks before. To be honest, I have had some girls, humanoid girls, here. They were pretty nice... well... very few of them can't be visited anymore, but some of them chose to leave! Also, there is a Mrs. of the sorts, but I'm a far from her at the moment. But I'll see her one day, I know it.
And bowties are not ancient Spitfire, bowties are cool." the Doctor explained as much as he could and took in some air in the midst of all of his rambling.

He had another deep breath, a bit tired from explaining everything to her, and checked up on his monitor to look for something specific. Spitfire continued to follow him as he was tapping, flipping, pushing buttons and levers. Finally, he grasped one large red switch. The TARDIS began to rumble, and Spitfire held onto the railing behind her.

"You're quite young, quite naïve. I don't want you to get hurt out there. So follow my lead Spitfire, and watch the Time Lord do his magic." he smirked, and finally pulled the red lever.

The robotic parts twirled in the machine, while the pink fluff spun rapidly. The machine has been breezing a sweet scent out from the small cooling holes of the top of the machine. On the front side of the glass, was a cheery face with eyes beaming along the movement of the pink cotton. The orange eyes darted from left to right, as the pink cotton had been twirled into perfection.

"You've been just about everywhere, yet you've never had carnival cotton candy?" Spitfire asked, surprised he had never eaten such a sweet taste before. Just about everypony must've had cotton candy in their lives, especially as a foal! And he seemed quite odd, how could he not have eaten such a well-known carnival treat?

"I've probably had it before, but it has been so long since I've gone to a carnival. It's just I'm quite busy with saving the universe and beyond. There's simply not much time to relax." he replied, paying the stallion that had made the cotton candy. The Doctor gave Spitfire the sweet candy on the simple white stick. The cotton candy had been seven bits, so expensive! But it seemed worth it, since it had a sweet smelling aroma.

"Thanks Doctor, I promise to repay you at some point." Spitfire promised him as he took a bit of the sweet fluff. The Doctor stepped away from the machine and began walking towards the cheery bright carnival games the foals were playing.

There had been so many games, from launching rings at bottles, throwing balls through nets, and stallions impressing their mates by slamming a large hammer and having a bell ring in an uproar. The stallion would be given a kid-like prize and award it to his mare as she would squeal in delight. The Doctor raised his eyebrow and turned towards the cotton-candy-face-deepened-Spitfire.

"I don't understand the point in this; you just play games and waste money. That's it?" he asked, looking at the teddy bears dangling from one of the stands.

"No Doctor," Spitfire replied, chewing the fluff contently. "It's just for fun, plus you win your friends, mate, or yourself prizes. But if you have a mate with you, you always give them the prizes. They are never ever for you, even if she insists." Spitfire explained to him, as three foals bolted passed her eager to gain more prizes. The Doctor glanced around at each game, trying to decide which one he'd be best at.

A certain game caught his eye though. A booth caught his eye though, targets in the mouths of plastic clowns, and laser-looking guns attached to the booth. Where you would press a button and the water would shoot out. As the Doctor had studied it completely, he darted up to the booth with Spitfire following behind him. She tossed her bare cotton candy stick into the trash and shortly came next to him. Little did she know that every step she took was being watched very cautiously.

Meanwhile a few other foals approached the booth and their parents stood over them, encouraging their foals that they were going to win. A pre-teen foal beside the Doctor hadn't had anyone behind him, but it seemed he couldn't care less. He probably preferred the gum he munched on other than having any loving parents next to him. The foal slowly turned his head towards the Doctor and blew up a bubble in boredom.

"Hey you, gramps! Aren't you too old for these games?" the foal grumbled, as he chomped on the pink glob.

"Are you still getting your baby teeth? Oh my, maybe that's why you're chewing like a cow." the Doctor replied back roughly, staring at the foal intensely. Spitfire quickly bumped the Doctor with her hoof to get his attention away from having a conflict with a foal that was probably one thousand, one hundred and ninety years younger than him.

"Doctor, he's just a foal! Do you know how much older you are compared to him? Don't be silly." Spitfire whispered, while crossing her hooves as the little foals looked at Spitfire awkwardly, seeing how she stood over the Doctor like a mother. And obviously, the Doctor wasn't a foal. Maybe they thought of her as his mate since he seemed so focus to winning. Then the gum chewing foal looked up at Spitfire.

"Nice outfit. I guess your mate couldn't buy you proper clothes. If you plan on him winning you something, and selling that to get you some sort of proper clothes, don't get your hopes up! You poor thing!" the foal laughed obnoxiously, aiming his water gun. Spitfire grumbled, why hadn’t he told her that she was going somewhere public, so she wouldn't have to look homeless with a bathrobe. She gritted her teeth and swiveled the Doctor's chair towards her so that they were eye-to-eye.

"Ignore what I said, pretend you're blasting a space alien or something out of this dimension," Spitfire tried to encourage him.

"Alien blasting? What type of race are they?" the Doctor questioned, focusing his attention onto her instead of the game. Spitfire moaned, and placed his hooves back onto the water gun, and fixed up his swivel chair.

"I don't know! Pretend it's some sort of alien-robot!" Spitfire grumbled and heard a faint bell ring.

"On your marks, get set, go!" the announcer shouted, and water shot out of all the water guns rapidly. The Doctor flinched a bit, causing the water to go off target for a moment. Instead of giving up, he immediately aimed the water gun back at the target. The balloon atop of the clown target began enlarging steadily, ready to pop at any moment. While the Doctor was in complete focus, the foal next to him began slamming on the water gun's buttons radically. How in the world could this little foal be wiping him out in this game?

In an instant he took Spitfire's advice and mashed the buttons, imagining the target as a robot-like-alien... like a Dalek!
Now imagining such an awful image, he wanted to spring off his chair and demolish the target now. But he would scare the foals if he did such a thing, and the sound of tears wasn't bearable in this type of atmosphere. After complete concentration, the pink balloon above one of the clowns popped, and an artificial sound of cheering rang through the speakers. Once the Doctor looked up, he was absolutely astonished to see he had won.

"Congratulations, sir! Pick your prize, anything from extra-large to small." the announcer smiled, grasping his microphone, pacing around the booth pointing at all the prizes for the Doctor to choose from. Although there had been many, many prizes, the Doctor couldn't choose from them all. But one caught his attention. The prize was in the medium section, and was the size of his head to be exact. It had an orange mane, and sky blue goggles with orange button eyes. It seemed to have a stitched up suit that was a navy color, and two perfectly attached yellow wings. As the Doctor had finished up analyzing the prizes, he decided to pick the plush Pegasus.

"Good choice sir, have a wonderful time at the carnival for the last few moments," the announcer called, while holding the hanging microphone a bit nervously. "It is almost closing time, please finish your game and leave immediately." the announcer shouted into the microphone, and packed up his equipment.

"That's a cute prize, Doc..." she paused seeing the yellow streak on the plush doll's outfit. "Oh it's a Wonderbolt plush. I'm surprised they still have these," Spitfire smiled and held the doll for herself. "This is what I kind of look like as a Wonderbolt, yet I prefer my mane like this to be honest. A natural look feels so much better than a fake one."
The Doctor looked at her, a bit curious to what this whole Wonderbolt thing was about. But that didn't matter at the moment. Something was strange and off about this carnival, and it wasn't the costly prices. The Doctor sprung off his seat and chased the galloping announcer.

"Sir!" the Doctor called, still rushing. The announcer halted in his tracks, and hurried to turn to the Doctor.

"What? What do you want? I need to leave!" the announcer exclaimed, looking around developing into a sweat.

"Why are you so nervous? It's like you're a skittish mouse." the Doctor responded. As the announcer went to say why, ponies rushed towards the exit almost trampling him over. The announcer quivered for words thinking about what to say before he would be squished.

"They're coming sir. You didn't read the entrance signs have you? They are coming. At closing time they come, at opening time they leave. Now I need to go, and so should you!" the announcer explained and darted into the crowd for his life.

"What in the beyond of the universe are you frightened of?" the Doctor called but the announcer was far gone. He whirled back around to Spitfire to see if she was okay. He smiled, glad to see she was still there. She was standing on one of the stools with her bathrobe rope drooping as it breezed sometimes when more ponies galloped past her.

"Doctor, what's happening?" Spitfire asked, holding the plush Wonderbolt tightly. The Doctor shook his head, and pulled her from the stool and threw her into a bush with him beside her. Luckily the two had been spared from being trampled by the terrified ponies. Foals cried, mothers pushed through the crowd just to make sure that their children would be safely exited from the room. Couples had been holding hooves, ramming through the crowd together. The Doctor turned to the scared Spitfire, and nudged her with his hoof.

"I don't know, but we'll be safe. I can promise you that." the Doctor assured her, gazing out of the bush to see of the crowd of ponies was dying down. Right until one uproar of closings of gates and locks sounded through the carnival. The two climbed out of the bush, to see the carnival had been powered off. The breeze threw some trash into the air and they looked up at the moon. Everything seemed still and quiet. The sound of ponies gathering, and enjoying themselves with their friends had been long gone. The carnival had now become a desolated, ominous, abandoned carnival. Spitfire hurried to his side, and looked at him.

"So, are you going to fire up the TARDIS and take us out of here?" Spitfire whispered just in case something could hear them. In the silence, the Doctor burst out into a fit of laughter. Gazing at her, he ruffled up the top of her mane.

"Silly Spitfire! That isn't what we are going to do. Oh, you're so cute for your age." the Doctor chuckled, with a warm grin.

A few seconds later, the rides turned back on, and the lights glittered back up. "There is danger out here, causing those ponies to express despair. That won't be continuing after we're through. So what do you say Spit? Solve a disaster with a poor old traveler?" he invited her, extending his hoof. Spitfire looked at him with a silenced expression. But why not?

The Doctor seemed to be trustworthy and protective, and the adventure seemed as if it was hollering for her to take his hoof into hers. Spitfire raised her hoof and grabbed the Doctor's, yet he was the one shaking her hoof awkwardly and vigorously.

"Sure Doctor. Who also loves a little adventure?" Spitfire nodded and listened closely to hear the eerie carnival song with a flick of her ear.

"That's a good question Spitfire, you'll find out the answer soon enough. After all, most of my companions figure out the answer. Who also loves a little adventure...".

Chapter Five: Into The Mad House

The Doctor waved his metal glow stick along the carousel. Spitfire watched tediously him, seeing how he paced along the ride as it slowly crept into a spinning motion. The glow stick made an odd noise that sounded like a toy's laser beam. She didn't like it, but it caused her to become curious on what it was. She stood from the ground, brushing dirt off of her bathrobe and climbed onto the carousel.

"What is that thing anyway? Is it just something that makes you focus? To be honest, it's pretty annoying." she asked, leaning on one the golden shiny bars where the animal rides should have been for the foals to ride onto.

"It is my sonic screwdriver, a handy tool of mine. It is able to scan, fix, unlock, track and even hack into objects. It’s almost as good as the TARDIS. Heh... almost ," the Doctor replied with a slight chuckle in his voice. He continued to scan the carousel, as it slowly creaked. "Spitfire, tell me what the problem is with this carousel." the Doctor called from the other side. Spitfire raised her eyes from looking at the doll, trying to figure out the Doctor's question for herself.

"First off, this ride seems to be going a bit faster than it did before. Maybe that is because all of the mechanical creatures that the foals ride on are gone..." Spitfire replied, stepping around the carousel beside him. Now gladly next to the Doctor, she smiled warmly at him, ready to hear his nerdy response.

"Now if only we can tell where they went." the Doctor said, checking his sonic for data of what was going on. Spitfire sighed and turned her head towards one of the tents to see a faint shadow in an alley. Her senses tingled as she was ready to inform the Doctor, but the shadow had vanished by the time she looked back where it had been. She squinted, still trying to find the shadow when the Doctor had interrupted her train of thought by a cough.

"This makes some sense. We're at a carnival, in the future, and the animal that foals ride who stay in place are no longer here. I believe that they might have gotten up and fled!" the Doctor exclaimed his theory and hopped off the ride. Spitfire followed up next to him, and saw the odd figure again. This time is had been beside a flower stand, right in the distance. Luckily the Doctor saw it, and burst into action.

"Hey you! Do you have any idea what's going on?" the Doctor called, darting towards the figure, but halted once the figure seemed to be smaller in the distance. Instead the figure had towered over him. It seemed to be made of complete steel and possibly from the ride they were on before, but it was too tall to fit onto it. Maybe it was just a huge attraction. The Doctor looked up at it, and smiled in awe. It had golden locks, and a marshmallow coat. It had a loyal lavender muzzle with a golden button on it that most racing ponies wore. Its saddle had golden lace etched along it and its hooves had been painted purple as shoes perhaps. "Well, well. Someon- er I mean... somepony seems a bit too polished for a carnival if I do say so myself." the Doctor smirked, swerving around the legs, inspecting them closely. But he was interrupted once his wide orange eyed friend fumbled into him.

"Do you even know if that thing is friendly?" Spitfire asked, staring up at the carousel's former seat. The stallion seat had long golden locks, a marshmallow colored coat, and a loyal lavender muzzle with a golden button stamped on his cheek to hold the muzzle firmly. Even though it was a muzzle, it had only been just for show. Its saddle had golden lace made of metal on the edges of it, and right where the foals were to sit was a darker shade of lavender. A foal could easily climb upon the seat and enjoy the ride. It's eyes were supposed to be a kind purple as its saddle but instead it was gleaming with a darkness, fear. He slowly tilted his head towards the Doctor and spoke in a deep, slightly-threatening-voice. Spitfire and the Doctor were forced to be stern and to make sure this figure wasn't too suspicious.

"You must not be here at this time, I am advising you to leave at the closest exit." the now-alive seat ordered sternly and gave them a sharp stare. Spitfire had instantly feared him, she had moved back a bit, grabbing the Doctor by his bowtie. This shouldn't have been happening, and why was the Doctor so calm about this? The robotic horse looked like it could squash them in a mere second. Yet, he was only a few inches taller than them. The Doctor cocked out his chest and looked into the robot's eyes. It looked as if they were having a stare down, a robot versus an alien, Spitfire never expected to see this in her life. If one of the players decided to lose, surely they would implode from the intensity.

"And why should we leave?" the Doctor questioned the robot's authority as if he did this daily. The robot gave the Doctor a sharp piercing glare that made Spitfire shiver.

It had reminded her of having to stare down Desert Eagle to convince him to feed her some lunch. At those times when Spitfire was young, Equestria wasn't at its best position. Ponies were hungry, tired, and weak… most even hopeless. When Spitfire visited Desert Eagle on Tuesdays, she would plead and try to act absolutely cute at his home. But Desert Eagle would rarely budge. If the miracles would occur more often back then, she'd be fed a bowl of soup. Simple, but tasty, it was filled with carrots, chopped potatoes, and diced celery. Sometimes, if she was in good behavior, Desert Eagle would add a dollop of cream which made her savor the taste as long as she could. She would question him when the two would sit beside each other.

"Desert, I must thank you very much for the soup. Do you think I can share it with mommy and daddy when they come home?" the young Spitfire had asked curiously. Desert Eagle would look away briefly, then back at Spitfire sorrowfully rubbing his orange chin.

"Kid, don't get your hopes up, alright? I mean, if your mommy and daddy come home, then you could all eat as much soup as you desire. But if they don't... well think of it in a way that we'll be able to spend more time with each other. And hey, more soup for us!" Desert Eagle chuckled, and slurped his own spoon of soup. As the young Spitfire would watch, she'd do the same. Desert Eagle had been such a good role-model for Spitfire, much better than you'd think. The memory had flashed out of her mind and was wide awake.

"You all must leave. Do not enter any closed rides, stores or homes. All residents must stay away from the Fun House. Going inside can lead to the never coming out, now leave," the robot ordered, Spitfire felt a bit relaxed once the robot seemed to show some sort of positive attention, but she was still up on her guard. The Doctor shook his head, and took out his sonic screwdriver, rapidly scanning the robot. A beep came from the sonic, indicating it had done its task. In an instant, the sonic had caused the robot to reopen his eyes which were now completely shined and had no sight of shadow. The dark eyes had now magically become green. The Doctor was so interesting that she had even left Spitfire in a trance... probably one of the most interesting ponies she had ever met.

"Welcome, one and all!-" the robot cheered but stopped to look around at the ghost town version of a carnival. "Erm... wait," the robot paused, his voice now northern and classy instead of threatening. "There's only two ponies here. Oh dear, what has happened? Where are all of the carnival goers?" the robot asked, panicking now pacing around the area. The Doctor put away his sonic screwdriver, and stood in the way of the robot's pacing.

"Apparently you haven't been very observant of your surroundings. Or maybe you've been just in a really long trance. How could you have not seen all of those ponies screaming in fear? There's something off going on, yet you know nothing about it." the Doctor grumbled, trying to think properly. Spitfire turned west, past the carousel and towards the "Fun House". The entrance had a lolling tongue as a carpet hanging out. It was strange, a bit too strange for a carnival that was open for little foals to enter. But maybe that's what foals liked in the future, strange odd things. Or maybe they were just out of ideas. The house even had eyes that were abstractly placed next to the flaming red clown nose in the center. The pupils of the eyes had slightly boggled, but maybe Spitfire was overwhelmed.

There was a dim light from the entrance, maybe someone was inside awaiting for someone to creep in. The house was like one of those spooky houses in foal's stories when the foals would foolishly enter and wouldn't come back out. Spitfire studied the appearance of the house one last time before turning back to the two debating behind her.

"I'm so nervous. I can barely remember the last time I’ve been around. I can't remember much. It is like I've been asleep for a very, very long time. And somehow I've just awoken to this. I remember fillies, playing cheerfully at the games and such, but now I'm here to this nightmare of a carnival!" the robot whined. He appeared to be more of a foal than a majestic stallion. Spitfire sighed, realizing that he was too good to be true. All robots had their flaws, especially this one. She laid one hoof around him, patting and urging to soothe him. She’d do anything to stop the crying.

"So if the carnival goers, the workers, and not even the rides know what's going on... that means we are going to have to go deeper to figure out what's going on." the Doctor spoke his thoughts and looked up at the former seat. "Listen uh..."

"Call me Whirl-Bot. Just for the heck of it." he sniffled, standing again.

"You mentioned a Fun House, no? Take us to it, if you'd like the carnival goers to ever come back." the Doctor instructed, and waited for the unicorn to do his action needed. In a few awkward moments, Whirl-Bot sighed.

"I mentioned the Fun House? But no one is allowed inside... everyone is strictly banned because of a recent accident inside. But fine, I cannot promise that you two will come out you know. I remember a foal had sneaked in there during previous construction. This had only happened a few weeks ago I believe. I wonder how that chap is doing in there... trust me I'd go in there to save him but I've been programmed by my, well, programmer to guard and such. I've been having odd glitches that are bipolar where I become normal like this and then some strict guard. I don't really like it... but if you two insist on trying to fix this mess be my guests. Let's just hope none of us are terminated while we are in there." Whirl-Bot rambled and trotted towards the Fun House.

Spitfire glanced at the Doctor, a bit nervous of entering behind Whirl-Bot. But the Doctor threw his arm around her, pulling her to his side. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"You don't have to go in if you don't want to. I'll try to be as quick as I can be. The last thing I want is you getting hurt." the Doctor nodded and began to trot towards the Fun House. But Spitfire dashed beside him.

"I'm coming with you, even if something dastardly happens. We're friends, and friends don't leave friends behind. And I am not a weakling!" Spitfire smirked and zipped towards the entrance. The Doctor followed, calling after her.

"We go in, stop whatever is terrorizing the carnival, find out why Whirl-Bot is acting like a regular pony, not a ride, save the poor foal, and maybe have time for some more cotton candy. I know you love that stuff. All fluffy, I mean really all candy is non-cotton except for the pinkish one on the stick. It is amazing. Almost as good as jelly babies," he grinned, patting Spitfire on the back. "Are you positive you want to go in here with me?"

"And blow up a chance to take a little risk?" she teased, approaching the doorway steadily. She rushed beside Whirl-Bot and was about to place her hoof on the handle but the Doctor had pulled her back next to him.

"You are staying at my side the entire time. You're only a rookie. I know you got this whole Wonderbolt-y thing going on in your mind, and you're at a high rank in that. But when you're with me you'll have to stay. I am not losing you to a house that's made to scare the wits out of foals." he told her, trying to keep himself calm. The Doctor didn't want to lose her, after all he hadn't wanted to leave or hurt anyone else. The fact that he had her beside him was a miracle. It had been much better than being by himself in his blue box, weeping of how he'd lost so many... friends.

“What about me?" Whirl-Bot's voice whined from behind them. The Doctor pondered on what to do with him. The Doctor didn't want to tell the truth and say that the Whirl-Bot was as useful as a leech. He cleared his throat searching for words.

"Ah, it is dark in there. And you have those fancy flashy eyes, you can be our eyes. And I don't want to hear anymore whining or shrieking from you!" the Doctor ordered, and took out his sonic, causing the handle to jiggle a bit till the door burst open.

Around the room were dark midnight walls with abstract neon colors splattered against the wall. There was furniture that looked as old as the Doctor was. The three were forced to shoo spider webs to get through. Oddly, one couch was wrapped in a slick black wire. It was obviously a trap. Family pictures were scattered on the wall of the family's daughters, son, mother and father. All of them had the eyes of a dog though. The three split up, and examined the area very closely. One that was strange was a pale mare who could have been the mother or the daughter of the family. Her eyes were closed but purple tears had been pouring out of her eyes and streamed down from the painting to the black concrete flooring. Spitfire was hesitating to touch it, but she restrained herself knowing the Doctor would be upset if she'd do something she wasn't supposed to.

As the three inspected the room, the floor trembled a little and a burst of cackling came from another room. There was a door on one side of the room, with a couch blocking the way. Possibly somepony tried to block it but was too busy to do so in a good job, or maybe it was put there to get attention. Surely whatever was across from the room they were in, something intense was going on. To follow up the cackling was a cry of a foal's shriek of terror. And to finally finish it off, a sound roared like a door or gate slamming shut. Spitfire instantly flinched after hearing the cry for help, and was ready to act. But the Doctor shook his head.

"No Spitfire, listen closer. Or in fact, look around. We're in a fun house, more like a mad house, and what we just heard was an artificial cry. The sound came from right here," he said poking a bookshelf with his hoof which had a speaker clumsily attached. "I know what I'm talking about; trust me, I'm the Doctor." Spitfire nodded; a bit surprised she couldn't tell herself. Maybe she was just too protective. The Doctor noticed something off; the horrid whining sound was gone. He whizzed around and grumbled.

"Damn! He's gone!" the Doctor stated and pulled out his sonic again, flashing it around the room. The Sonic’s signal led him to one spot, the corner, where books had been stacked high. They were all photo albums according to the titles on the sides of the books. Spitfire approached the books herself, and removed one from the pile. It was green, and had red lace around it. It sort of looked like a young foal was trying to make an art project. Once she opened it up, a click sound rang. The Doctor glanced up at her, a bit embarrassed that he didn't say anything.

"Doctor, what did I just do?" she asked, warily. And another, louder click, sounded. The floor trembled as it did before. The Doctor stretched out his bowtie a bit, sort of nervous.

"Curiosity killed the cat, right?" he tried to chuckle, but Spitfire narrowed her eyes. Even though she was sort of angry for him not saying anything, she clutched onto him. A couch nearby had snapped its legs, and a few pictures had fallen and shattered into bits. The two bookshelves around them had snapped together to create a barricade of leaving the spot. As Spitfire looked up, the wall was just brisked by the bookshelves, impossible for them to escape. The Doctor stared at the floor below them, creaking open. His eyes widened as he couldn't see the bottom of the pitfall-like trap. Spitfire held onto him tighter, fearful of the bottom. It was a long way down just by the looks of it.

As Spitfire had a fearful gaze, the Doctor looked at her with a wide grin. She was ready to throw off her bathrobe and spread her wings, although she wouldn't have the strength to hold the Doctor up for... however long the floor would be opened. She backed up and up until her back slammed into the wall.

"What's with that stupid smile? Are you excited to plummet down and down to our death?!" Spitfire snapped. But the Doctor moved his hoof as if shooing her irritated attitude away.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to take the risk!" the Doctor chuckled, and grabbed her hoof into a firm grip with his own. She looked at him nervously, and nodded as the couch had now plummeted before her eyes. She began to quiver and shake. Finally letting out a scream, the Doctor yelled.

"Geronimo!"

Chapter Six: The Tunnel

Floating up to the top of the water he wheezed to catch his breath. The Doctor bobbed like a rubber duck, his mane soaking wet along with his raggedy coat and bowtie. He held his sonic in his mouth and made sure not to touch it with the water. Being electrocuted wasn't in his plans. The Doctor slowly grabbed the sonic with his teeth and flashed it around to try to figure out where he was. As the Doctor tried to illuminate his surroundings, he realized he was floating in a river surrounded by a tunnel. The river was obviously filled with water, there wasn't any scent nor taste, and he obviously knew how water felt. The walls around him appeared to look like he was in some sort of cave that was painted in maroon with a few lights dangling which sparked once in awhile as he continued to wearily bob down the river. As he went along, there had been nothing to grasp onto to stop, just a stream continuing to push him down and down along the river. The bottom of his hooves brisked the bottom, luckily he didn't feel anything while kicking his legs. The only thing he did feel were the jets that pumped out warm water that were frequently whooshing water on his sides. It seemed many rows of jets were along the sides of the river, yet the Doctor couldn't see them in the current dim lighting.

This must have been one of the carnival rides, yet there was nothing for a carnival-goer ride. He found it odd that there was no boat or anything to ride, most rides he had seen had carts or at least something to sit onto. This was all very strange, he felt a bit compelled to close his eyes and lie in the river as if it was a sauna. Oh, he wished to be in a sauna right now... but a memory popped up in his mind. Spitfire. Where had she gone? He turned from left to right in search of her, yet she was no where to be seen.

"Spitfire?!" he called, searching frantically for her. He hated this feeling entirely. He couldn't believe that he had lost her already. He was chilled, nervous beyond belief. If he had truly lost her, he might as well give up. She obviously couldn't be gone though... that would be too rushed up. Things had to be work out... after all they had just met, plus she wouldn't be gone this too soon. She was clever, only a fool would be gone by now. He sighed, trying to calm down from his nervousness but heard chimes breezing slowly nearby. The air had become thick with a scent of perfume that smelt really cheap. The water became warmer than before, and some steam had lured onto the ceiling. As he bobbed ahead, he heard some splashes ahead. It had to be her!

"Spitfire!" he shouted, paddling towards the figure ahead. Ahead of him was a canal boat, slowly plunking closer and closer to him. As it slowly crept closer towards him, an ominous figure stood still, facing him. Yet it had been too dark for the Doctor to see the figure's face. "Spitfire? Is that you? Oi! Where'd you get this boat from? I'll be right on!" The Doctor called, throwing himself onto the front of the boat and climbed directly on the deck. But as he went to stand, he looked up at the Whirl-Bot's face. His left eye red, and the other emerald green. Alarmed, the Doctor gripped to the side of the boat.

Whirl-Bot's side of his face was now slightly rusted and it seemed his face to the left of him was gone. His true, inner machine was showing, metal scrap and all. He could now pass off more as a cyborg other than a carnival ride. Other than the fact that Whirl-Bot looked like he had fought against a garbage disposal, the fact that this canal boat was going against the current was strange.

"What's going on here Whirl-Bot? I know I had fallen down here, but where's Spitfire? Why are we going in the opposite direction of the current? And what happened to your... beautiful face?" The Doctor questioned rather quickly. Whirl-Bot stared at the Doctor, questioning himself whether to respond or not.

"I haven't seen her, she couldn't have gone too far. And this down here is one of the old carnival rides, the 'Underground Love Tunnel'. Someone must have dug a pitfall trap that leads to the river here. It had to have been the Ringleader that made that trap with the books and the long way down here. He must have spent a whole lot of time down here." Whirl-Bot paced. "No wonder why he's closed down this ride! He's been down here the whole time plotting... but what..." Whirl-Bot paced some more, catching the Doctor's attention. Whirl-Bot hadn't been this talkative nor observed this much of what was going on. Perhaps his behavior was linked to why his face was so beaten. But the Doctor shook his head.

"Ringleader? Who's this Ringleader guy? How come you've never told me about him?" the Doctor asked, austerely.

"I would've told you if you could have somehow stopped rambling before! That's all you really do isn't it?" he grumbled. "Anyway the Ringleader is the owner of the carnival. This whole leave the carnival thing has been going on for a decade or so. I've lost time a bit. I've been having these in and out headaches where my data sources are taken over with some sort of signal. My memories are sometimes washed.. it is hard to explain but this is not important. To wrap it all up, there are many robots in this carnival and many of them are masked. All employees are forced to stay here without returning to wherever their homes had been. The Ringleader is a mad pony, only focused on power and dominance. I cannot be positive on why he's burrowed down here, maybe to hide himself in some sort of defense. Maybe he's scared... perfect." Whirl-Bot snickered.

"And this canal boat, how'd you find it?"

"It's part of the ride. It picks ponies up from the entrance and goes in a circle really, leading them back out the way they came in. Ponies sit in these canal boats, kiss and all. Sadly I landed smack into one of the boats when I had fallen. But this boat, it isn't wood..." he smirked, beginning to kick and pull off the wood which had flopped off like wallpaper, revealing metal behind it. "Many parts of the carnival are fake. Many parts are old, torn. A simple paint job can hide anything it seems. Also, I'm heading in the opposite direction towards the Ringleader's base. Sure it'll take awhile but it is better than making an entire loop back around the entrance to his base. He must be leading us here for some reason, just be careful of traps."

"And how do you know this? Are you a spy?"

"A spy? If I was a spy I could easily eliminate you now. Push you into the water, give a little electric charge. A spy would've been done with you by now. And I only know where the Ringleader's base is because he's taken me there to fix me up. Yet, he's turned me off during the trip, I cannot remember what is inside the door to his base... but only the ride in which we are in now." Whirl-Bot sighed. "But hey! What's wrong with my face?"

The Doctor gulped, guessing that Whirl-Bot hadn't noticed that half of his painted face was missing. The Doctor almost chuckled but kept his mouth shut and tapped Whirl-Bot's cheek with his hoof.

"Never mind Whirl-Bot, you look beautiful as usual." the Doctor headed back towards the bow of the boat, staring at the tunnel ahead of him. Whatever was ahead of him, worried him in a way. They had been pretty far along this river and Spitfire had not left a single clue that she was here. Whoever this Ringleader was, the Doctor was going to find him. And if that Ringleader had dared to steal Spitfire away from him, as if that didn't sound so defensive, he was going to have a few harsh spoken words to say.

"Are you positive you haven't seen her?" the Doctor said without making eye contact back at Whirl-Bot.

"Affirmative. Do you have a sample that I could possibly track her with?"

The Doctor paused. A sample sounded weird. As if he was creepy or had some sort of thing for Spitfire. But the Doctor did have one thing that might have had Spitfire's scent or DNA on it. Not that he was sure of it, but he was giving a go for it. Spitfire was important to him, but he didn't have a hair or anything like that with him. That would be awfully strange. But he did have one thing that caught his attention to what could be perfect for a scan. Although the Doctor didn't have his raggedy coat with him, he had a satchel with him that contained all he needed. Even though pockets were more favored to the Doctor, his satchel was just as good. In his satchel, he revealed the small prize he had won for Spitfire before. It was adorable, just as she was. He was quite charmed by the blue buttons that were supposed to be her eyes, glimmering every time some source of light hit it. He handed over the prize to Whirl-Bot and nodded, hoping that this would help find her.

"That better help you find her. I want that prize back in one piece." the Doctor murmured and waited for the results. With a few beeps and crank-like noises, Whirl-Bot came up with an answer.

"Scan completed. Stats of Spitfire found... processing..." he paused. "Targeted her. Race, Pegasus. Health, poor. Strength, at the moment, poor. Weapons, none carried. Tracking... tracking... found!" Whirl-Bot's ear sparked, and had to be fixed back in. "I've found her. She's in The Hall of Mirrors. Oh no, she's in there. Out of all places to be, she has to be in the worst place of all! If we don't get to that hall and find her soon, I'm afraid the Madness will get to her." Whirl-Bot twitched, and a few bolts popped off. The Doctor gritted his teeth. How could this carnival still be going around?

"Madness?" the Doctor questioned. "What Madness? The last time I've been around somepony with insanity, it took them years to obtain it. How could it take somepony an hour or a bit more to become mad?"

"Well the hall does things like that. It is untrustworthy. It causes hallucinations and odd sights. It defies what you're trying to think in what is wrong and what is wrong. For all we know, she could be seeing you!"

"Seeing me? Are you saying she would be thinking of me?" he slightly blushed and was forced to turn away.

"She is thinking many things, including you. Most of her thoughts are corrupted. We need to find her before her madness sinks in to the point where she can barely handle herself. This is awful, we need to find her now, I'm sure we'll find the hall's entrance anytime soon."

"We're on our way there at least, right?"

"Of course, once I get you inside there, you may be subjected to the Madness also. You won't be able to see absolutely properly, and you must find her as fast as you can. I'd hate for you to go completely mad in there with no return. I for one cannot go in, it would shut down my system instantly."

"Madness can't affect me roughly, I'm the Doctor. Surely if you were a thousand years old you would've gone mad by now." the Doctor almost chuckled.

"I'm glad you could be here Doctor. You're like the carnival's savior, but I bet you're everypony's savior honestly. My programs advised me to destroy any trespassers that are here after carnival hours. Yet I'm rebellious to do so. You've got a good heart, and I couldn't hurt somepony who is so diligent in saving us. I hope you'll do your best Doctor. You're going to need it." As the boat slowly plunked up and down the way, the tunnel seemed to become a nebulous blue, and the water shimmered ahead of them. The Doctor ducked his head over the boat and faced himself towards the water. The whole lovely theme was through, now becoming an eerie scenery. It was very quiet too, the rocking boat hitting itself against the current had been echoing creating the only noise around them.

"Thank you... but I'm no savior. I'm just doing what I must do." he murmured.

"What must you do, sir?"

"I must continue to save those I know of. I must try to fix my life. I've messed up so many lives that I'm afraid when I officially die I'll have the biggest burden on my back. All of those p-people..." he muttered, facing the artificial water. As the boat went along, Whirl-Bot stopped it in front of a small platform of rock leading up to a door labeled 'DO NOT ENTER'. He halted the boat and turned towards the Doctor, his ears turning from left to right as if adjusting.

"Did I hear you say the word, people?" Whirl-Bot questioned.

"I said ponies." the Doctor replied urgently.

"Hmph, my hearing is off. Well sir, good luck. You're going to need it." Whirl-Bot said making sure the boat was in place, and beside the platform without drifting. The Doctor nodded and jumped off the boat to land onto ground. He turned towards Whirl-Bot one last time and smiled.

"Very well, thank you, I'm eager to stop the Ringleader whom is behind this, and I want to make this place better just for the fillies. Everypony really, but those screams really get to me. And I shouldn't forget about Spitfire either. I have to save her. Well here I go," he took a deep breath. "Geronimo."

Chapter Seven: Madness

She laughed and pranced through the hall, the sound of laughter fluttering in her ears. The mare smiled at her gown, it was long and white; etched with small white petunias. Her mane was perfectly done. It had flowed along with her dress too. Her surroundings were pure trees and flowers scattered everywhere. It was a beautiful place, ultimately full of joy. Just as her heart was as the birds chirped a tune. But as she continued frolicking she saw him in the distance.

"Soarin'!" she squealed and darted towards his figure. He was so handsome, to die for. He wore a tux and his mane was smooth along with his looks. His glowing white teeth blinded the singing birds around him for a moment. As she darted closer and closer to him, she was so close. She pounced and was ready to hug him tightly until a loud noise rang. It was like screeching, but in pain. Which had made the vision around her fade into the darkness. And she was reawakened by a screech in her ear. She shook her head and looked down to see the shattered glass all over the floor. She was so confused. How had she just gone from a beautiful field to a dark eerie hall? She went to raise her hoof to rub her eyes but stopped, seeing the shards right in front of her. The pain stung her once again, forcing her to lean back on a mirrored wall that hadn't shattered. She took a breath in, shuddering from the pain. Looking down, the tips of her bathrobe were doused in red. She shuttered again and resisted a scream at the top of her lungs. She wanted to, but forced herself to go against it.

The feeling was so immense; she had never felt it before. Spitfire tried to somehow move the shards away to make room for sitting, but didn't care any longer. She had to remove any sort of shard left immediately. Removing bits slowly she felt somewhat relief little by little. Making sure the rest of the shards were removed she looked down at her bathrobe. Taking a quick cough, she took off the bathrobe and began to rip off some of the material. She wrapped the material around and around her hooves and flank taking one last deep breath. She looked ridiculous but it felt way better than the pain before. She backed away from the mess on the floor and turned to get a good look of her surroundings.

She didn't seem to have a good memory of what happened before. How she even got here was a misunderstanding. She was quite weak and tired, and moving around the hall was at a crippled-like stage. Her entire surroundings were mirrors, mirrors, and more mirrors. There was nothing else but them. She looked at herself and had a weakened smile.

"Wow. I really do look like I got into a bloody fight," she said gazing at her reflection for a moment. "The worst fight... against myself." she muttered and turned away from her reflection beginning to trudge again. Trying her best to continue on, the hallucinations kicked back in. Spitfire squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Taking rougher breaths she tried to fight it.

"No! No! Get out of my head!" she shouted, and began to panic. But then she realized something. When her eyes were closed, it seemed to be soothe her. Spitfire halted from her panic and tried to calm her breathing pace. She had to think of happier times, something to calm her. She didn't want the hallucinations to come back. But she didn't want the pain either. She had to focus on something just right. And she smiled. Not from the hallucinations, but from a fond memory. A childhood, dear memory. As she stood there she began to mutter it, just as her parents had done for her all those years ago.

"Sleepy Spitfire,
you must be tired.
Tomorrow shall be grand,
you'll understand.
How great you'll be,
Full of glee.
We love you so grand,
we hope you understand.
How great you'll become.
Our little one."

Her parents had sung this to her every night before she slept and it stuck to her memories perfectly. She could remember sleeping in her warm wool bed. She continued to keep her eyes shut and hum the tune to herself. As she had hummed it a few times, she seemed to have bumped into something. But it wasn't a wall... it had physical features. She feared to open her eyes, but it had to be a real pony; hallucinations weren't touchable. Or perhaps the visions were now more realistic. She wished so hard that the Doctor was in front of her.

"Doctor! Doctor is that you?" Spitfire asked, her voice poor and not the same as it had been.

"Open your eyes, the madness is lowered. Fool." the voice bellowed, it wasn't cheery like the Doctor's. It was grim. She slowly opened her eyes, she really wanted to know who it was and she couldn't help herself.

Standing in front of her was a Unicorn stallion. He was about three feet taller than her. He had a sly grin and a red jacket like the Doctor but it seemed more villainous with black threads at the edges. He had a large black top hat which had a red ribbon around it that covered his horn and a black flowing mane that contrasted from his snow white coat. His eyes were narrowed and black staring directly at her. This was definitely not the Doctor. Spitfire now wished it was a hallucination. She wanted to back away, but felt trapped in his gaze. He had something strange about him, as if he could take control of anything he wanted. Her thoughts were ruptured once a maniacal laugh came from his crooked smile. He extended his hoof towards her as if to shake.

"Nice to meet you miss. Care to shake my hoof?" he smoothly spoke. When Spitfire looked from his face to his hoof her eyes became drowsy. Instead of seeing a single sleek hoof, there were three. She shook her head and focused on the hoof in the middle causing the two others to disappear.

"Who are you? Where am I?" she snapped questions at him. His sly smirk became an austere look and he withdrew his arm.

"I am the Ringleader. And apparently you don't know how to respond to a friendly shake. No need to be paranoid. You are standing in front of the Ringleader. In my awe inspiring Hall of Mirrors. Well, more like a labyrinth. It all depends on how you're weak mind is dealing with the self created disease, the Madness." he boasted. Spitfire narrowed her eyes at him, and he swatted his hoof into the air. It caused her legs to twitch in pain, and was enforced to kneel on the ground. She stared back up at him, infuriated.

"I want to get out of here! I need to fix my wounds, and I need to find my friend-"

"Friend?" he interrupted her. "You must be on a date, and you decided to stay a bit longer didn't you? So many ponies do so. You two must have gotten curious and fell into my trap didn't you both? That was an undesirably foolish idea." the Ringleader chuckled and his smirk reappeared. He was very intimidating, and he seemed he was going to pull out some more hallucinations from his cruel imagination.

"Listen, you don't understand. I don't know how I got here-"

"Enough of you! Now you're criticizing my intelligence. I completely understand. I am not dumbfounded, but brilliant!" the Ringleader exclaimed. He stamped his hoof proudly causing specks of shadow colored sparks from his hooves. The pain came back, even harder than before. She let out a scream and cried.

"Doctor!! Doctor save me!!" she said at the top of her lungs, but the Ringleader put his hoof in her mouth to pacify her.

"Fools like you cannot comprehend my greatness. Hopefully a fool like you wouldn't be trying to foil my plans and such. This carnival has been ongoing. For up to a decade I've ruled this land. And you, you mortal are not going to ruin it. I will find your dear friend, and exterminate him from the premise. And you'll be the perfect bait..." the Ringleader proposed and chuckled again. From behind him, he pulled out a golden staff with an emerald on top of it; which she hadn't seen before. It shimmered somehow in the darkness. He stomped the bottom of the staff onto the mirrored floor causing a few cracks. Spitfire gritted her teeth and tried her best to stand but failed. It was as if she was locked in place... and there was no way even stand. She struggled to look up at him and gave him an infuriated look.

"Has anyone ever told you, you're the fool here?" she snapped. Outraged, the Ringleader slammed his staff next to her ear causing her to shudder. But she wanted to drive him crazy. She would try anything to make the Ringleader focus on her, and not the Doctor.

"You fool, rise before me now! Rise!!" he commanded, and forced her to stand with his magic. "You can say whatever you want, but you'll regret it not too soon. You're going to be staying here for a long while." he snickered. The Ringleader took his arm and flung it around her, pulling her close to his puffed chest rather tightly. She gave an austere stare at him as he began to trot through the hall, dragging her beside him. Spitfire struggled to be released from his grasp. He picked up her mane in one whole bunch and yanked a single hair out. Spitfire flinched and stared at the ground.

"You'll see. When you find him he'll stop you and your plans. You're mad just like this place. And surely you'll pay for what you've done for the past decade at some point!" Spitfire spat in a mutter. The Ringleader laughed and squeezed Spitfire. He grasped her hoof and threw her as far as he could through the hall.

"Enjoy the Hall of Mirrors. And don't worry about the so called 'Doctor' I'll have him taken care of. He'll be a lovely addition to those who've tried to stop me, and failed. Resulting in the most memorable death any pony could have. Oh, and good luck, try to not let the Madness get to you!" he called and rose his staff, fading into a dark menacing red. Just like the tips of her robe. Spitfire lied on the cold floor, now able to move at her will again. Although it was painful, she struggled to stand up again. Failing, she fell back onto the ground. She shook her head, and felt guilt within her.

It was her fault that she brought up the Doctor and it was selfish of her to yell for him knowing that he could be hurt. She should have known. She felt so dumbfounded. Spitfire turned her head and stared at the mirror to her reflection. Boy, she appeared a mess. Almost unrecognizable she had a blank gaze. As her eyelids began to grow heavy again she heard the bird chirps. Cursing under her breath, she took a deep breath. Her vision became a bit funky as if she was undergoing vertigo. She wished for the pain and the disease within her to vanish... but she wished harder that the Doctor was going to be okay.

After all, was she worth saving over death itself?

Chapter Eight: Visions

Chapter Eight: Visions

Rummaging through his coat pockets, he shuffled to find a source of light. He removed his sonic from his pocket and tried to turn it on with a couple shakes. All it did was flicker on slowly and make a couple sounds of struggle to stay on. Perhaps it wasn't the most useful way to see, but it was rather uncomfortable not being able to see clearly. He felt that anything could peep up behind him and catch him in his rescue mission. He wondered what got him here anyway. He could easily retreat out of here and go back to the TARDIS. But he knew that was wrong. He had ruined enough lives and letting her die would be another reason to launch him into the nearest void. She was probably his last good reason to somewhat decrease his horrible acts. His sonic went off again, and he let out a grunt of frustration. He tapped his sonic against the unseen wall and heard a loud cracking noise. His sonic finally turned on and he was a bit startled to see that his entire surroundings were made of mirrors. It was a bit odd. The Doctor examined the crack and muttered.

"My my, someone has plenty of time on their hands," but the Doctor shook his head. "Somepony... hooves. Why does the ponies' vocabulary have to be so difficult?" he asked himself and scanned the crack he had caused. His sonic rang in alarm, indicating that there was a strange identification around him. Something odd, like a disease. A disease. The Doctor swung his hoof to cover his nose and mouth from breathing in any of the disease. Realizing it wasn't really going to help, the Doctor examined his sonic for more details. He read the results aloud, a bit shaken up.

"Disease identified: Madness. Very damaging to weak minded, doesn't affect the wise well-" the Doctor let out a sigh of relief and stood calmly. Hell, he was already mad. What would it do any harm to him? As for Spitfire... she was young, and not that bright. Surely she wouldn't be taking this too well. Enough stalling though, he had to continue to trek through the strange mirrored hall. As he started to trot through the hall he made a left and flinched in front of a mirror. In the reflection was title, upon title of all companions that knew him well. It choked him up a bit, having to see everyone he let down.

"No," the Doctor muttered. "I must keep this behind myself, I must show myself that I am not... what this is. I... I am a hero. And I shall prevail to be!" the Doctor exclaimed. Yet his hooves felt frozen in place. As the left side of his mouth twitched in irritation, he shouted to the mirror. "Be gone!" and with that, the mirror shattered before him. He mumbled a few words of sorrow and turned away to continue down the eerie hallway. His cheeks flared red and his eyes were quite red. Whoever was wise enough to pull off these hallucinations was quite clever. As he had passed each mirror, they all seemed to hate him with each name of his former companions and how they had all gone.

He saw the names of Rose, Martha, Donna, and even Amy. Many other names of his past were surrounding him. And it would take much too long to shatter each mirror with his words. Leaving his cracked up sonic to do the job of destroying his past. He held it in his mouth pointing the sonic from left to right, back and forth, every shatter truly getting to him in his two hearts. He knew this place was trying to get into his mind, to break him apart. He wouldn't let him that happen on his watch. As he passed through the Hall, confronting each name, he froze in his steps to hear a shriek. It had to be another hallucination... but it seemed so real. It could have been a trap... but he couldn't resist from saving her.

"Spitfire, I am coming!" he hollered, as he burst with speed across the hall. He did his best to ignore every call for help by the mirrors. The further down he went, the older companions were there. It was as if he was in a dark cemetery with absolutely no end to it. Every cry was a blow to the heart. But after stampeding through the hall, he stopped in his tracks to stand before her. He wrapped his hooves around her to hug her, to comfort her and to make sure she was all okay. But Spitfire didn't even budge to hug back.

"S-Spitfire? I thought you were captured. Are you okay? You look perfectly fine, but I heard yells and cries. Why aren't you searching for me or help?" the Doctor asked her staring into her eyes with a startled expression. She looked fine, not a scratch on her. It seemed wrong so wrong; the Madness would've left her looking as if she had gone through her worst fears. But she stood before him with a smirk on her face and her mane was high with a somewhat flare...yet she no longer wore a bathrobe.

"I'm fine Doctor. You're foolish for coming here Doctor." she blandly replied with that strange smirk on her face.

"Foolish? Spitfire what has happened to you?" he snapped back.

"Oh nothing let me stay here. I think I'd like to help this carnival... I'll stay here for a long while. You know, till I get old probably." Spitfire muttered towards the last of her words. The Doctor gritted his teeth and retreated from hugging her. He stood back and glared into her eyes. The bottom part of his mouth quivered.

"Where is she? What did you do to her?" he said austerely trying to find out what was wrong with her through her eyes.

"She's done for Doctor. Long gone. The Madness has successfully done its job. Go home. Go right back to your home before I change my mind. And if you even take one step forward I can simply do what I've done to her." the voice had commanded from supposedly Spitfire's mouth.

"She... She can't be gone. You're lying! There's always a chance to save them, always!" the Doctor shouted.

"Them? Obviously you aren't too good at saving it seems. Why don't you just give up? Head out. Right before you will regret doing the worst decision of your life."

"I bet you've said that a thousand times. You don't scare me; with all of your hallucinations... it's a joke. Really, who do you think you are? Ruling a carnival? Go run for mayor or something." the Doctor glared angrily. The somewhat-Spitfire sneered.

"Then this won't pain you?!" her voice shouted and projected along the hall. She stomped with one hoof and squeezed her eyes shut. She let out a yell, but now it was no longer in anger. It was in pain. She sunk down to the floor and lied there. Her face was directly towards the ground and the grim smirk became a frown. The wounds on her sides began to appear along with each hair coming out of place. The Doctor didn't care if it was an act, he cared. He darted to her side and held onto her shoulders. He knelt in front of her and held her head in front of his. Her eyes were sealed but her mouth quivered.

"Spitfire. Spitfire listen to me, I want you to breathe firmly. Not everything around you is real. I'm real though. I'm right here for you. Know that, okay?" the Doctor tried to assure her. But only a groan was her reply. The Doctor struggled on what to do. He didn't quite remember the way out, but he had to help her. She was all he had. Placing her on his back he trudged back where he came from. He passed the broken mirrors and the eerie surroundings. He wasn't quite used to his body at this four-legged state yet, but he would have to manage. Alright, let’s see, one hoof, then the other, not forgetting the back legs. Spitfire let out a cough and opened her eyes a bit.

"Wh-What? Is that you?" Spitfire mumbled. As she looked a little more closely around her, she saw that the blue manned stallion was heaving her through some sort of... dark tunnel. "You came back, you… you saved me!" she smiled drowsily.The Doctor rolled his eyes and shook his head. He'd play along, but only because Spitfire was so ill.

"Yes. I'm here. Everything is going to be fine. Why not you plan some things we can do later... on our picnic." the Doctor fibbed. Spitfire let out a giggle as she squeezed her arms around his neck. Her cheeks flared red and she let out a hiccup. She smudged the side of her cheek against the light blue mane and smiled.

"Picnic? What picnic?" she mumbled

"The one I made for you. It'll be coming up... don't think to hard about that. We have important goals." the Doctor replied, looking from left to right to find a way out.

"You're too sweet. Too sweet. Yes... you're like a cotton oasis of blush." she laughed after a hiccup. The Doctor frowned and rolled his eyes. The only thing he could really do was to continue to trot. He looked left to right again. He wondered why it had been so dark. This lowlife couldn't just install a few lights for crying out loud? He had to get out before they were found. Although they were lost and it seemed that there was no end to Spitfire continuing to act like this, he was forced to listen to her strange chitchat.

"Hey."

"Hello Spit."

"Are you deaf?"

"No Spit, I am not deaf."

"But I had another glance and your whistle is just so... mph... don't be so rude to be." Spitfire sniffled.

"Alright...” he muttered.

"I don't want to continue with this... mm... hot... weekend. Forget this. Can we.. go to the stall cloud?" she said a little bit louder now.

"Quiet down, why not you just stay quiet in general?" the Doctor almost pled.

"I want... I want the black umbrella!" she exclaimed. The Doctor bit his lip but continued to trek. He swore that if she was still like this, he'd do anything to make her the old Spitfire again. But how long could it last? The Doctor turned to hear a loud trot from afar, down the hall behind him. His ears flared up and he only did the best thing he could really do. Run.

"Why are you grabbing a routine?" Spitfire dizzily asked as she felt his pace pick up.

"There's... there's a hungry mob of... butterflies. And they're after the bread in the basket!" the Doctor tried to speak in her language but wish he could slap his hoof on his forehead instead. Spitfire eye's opened widely and sat upright.

"Those butterflies aren't going to steal our bread!" she shouted and hurtled herself off of the Doctor's back and into whoever-was-chasing-their path. The Doctor rolled his eyes, but once he realized she wasn't on his back he slid to a stop.

"Spitfire! No!" he shouted and ran back. She had hurtled herself pretty far.. if only she had the brains to know better at this time. "Why did you not stay on my back? I swear… listen we need to get out of here. Now." he called, but froze in his steps to see a large figure ahead of him. He was about two feet taller than him. He had a sly grin and a red jacket like himself except his whole color scheme was wrong. It had been way more villainous his jacket compared to his with black threads at the edges. He had a large black top hat which had a red ribbon around it that covered his horn and a black flowing mane that contrasted from his snow white coat. His eyes were narrowed and black staring directly at him. And on his back was Spitfire out cold. The Doctor sneered and glared back at him.

"Let her go! Now! She did nothing wrong! If you even hurt her I'll-" the strange stallion pointed his head downwards to look at him right in the eye.

"I will hold onto her Doctor. This is my carnival. And I will no longer be subjected with pests like this mare and you.”

Chapter Nine: Carnival Chow

Before he was the grand Ringleader, he was Humphrey. Humphrey, the blemished youngster who worked at the concession stand serving cotton candies, funnel cakes, Belly Buster Burpees and the infamous deep fried candy bars. Those were the worst, 700 calories and 44 grams of fat each. Not to forget, they were king sized. His job was nothing more than dipping each unhealthy food into the fryer, or spinning cotton candies. The concession stand was one of the first opening stands at the brand new carnival that everypony just absolutely had to go to. If you didn’t go, you were obviously missing out. They had these so-called roller coasters and spinning wheels that you could ride on. It was one of the most interesting topics on the entire summer. Everyone seemed to be happy, except Humphrey.

“One deep fried candy bar,” a young mare said in front of the concession stand. Humphrey nodded, and wrote the burly words on the ordering ticket. She looked about Humphrey’s age. What was she doing getting a deep fried candy bar? Instead of warning her that these were probably the unhealthiest foods on the planet, he nodded. Heading back to his station, he passed the ordering ticket to his stout dependable worker beside him. His name was Jim. Simply Jim and Jim was none other than simple. The two barely spoke to each other but when they did, it was to define orders.

“Hey uh, Jim can I ask you something?” Humphrey urged to start a conversation.

“Yeah sure, of course,” he replied, dipping the candy bar in the fryer. Following up was a sizzling sound that caused it to bubble. The few drips of… frying oil, spattered onto the ground. Humphrey grabbed a sort-of-clean-towel and cleaned it while clearing his throat.

“Do you think these ponies deserve better?” he stammered, and wiped the floor clean.

“Better? Like, not these innocent customers junk? Trust me, if we sold broccoli on a stick, I wouldn’t mind,” Jim didn’t hesitate to reply.

“No, no. I mean… what if, just what if we had… a leader. I mean, someone who could make this carnival a better place,
right?” he kind of smiled at the thought. But Jim sort of stayed quiet for a moment before responding.

“The manager didn’t tell you to ask me these questions, did he?” Jim shortly replied.

“No! I wouldn’t do that to you, you’re like my only friend Jim,” he answered honestly. Jim nodded and struggled to be honest. If he lied, it would affect their friendship. If he was honest, Humphrey could snitch to the manager.

“Okay, maybe I would like this place to have a better ‘leader’. It’s unfair to watch customers coming back every day, only to see them gain another chubby pound. But, it is their choice to buy this trash. Maybe this junk is making their brains mush so they lose their thoughts on considering whether to bite into this garbage or not. It’s unfair to watch, but it’s giving us bits to continue our lifestyles. What choice do we have?” Jim muttered. Humphrey’s eyes sort of brightened in awe. Simple Jim wasn’t so simple. Then Jim pulled out the deep fried candy bar with an oven mitt and jammed a stick into it. He passed it to Humphrey and frowned.

“It’s your turn to serve your customer.” Jim sighed and stared back down at the fryer. Humphrey slowly nodded and held the stick. It had to be wrong to be doing this, but what choice did he have? He sighed and stood towards the counter and looked directly at the young mare. She was so pretty, and perhaps doing this would change her. He couldn’t do this… ruin her. It’d be awful. He hesitated, but gave her the candy bar. She threw a few bits onto the counter, and thanked him. Her eyes were sparkling as she went to turn away. He was so fed up, that he slapped the candy bar out of her grasp. It landed directly on the top and dropped onto the dirty ground. Her expression changed into a furious one.

“Excuse me, sir? Why did you do that?!” she shouted in an upset tone.

“I… I…” he lost his thoughts and stuttered to explain. In the corner of his eye, he saw the smirking manager peer out from one of the games. He had to see everything, he was surely fired now. It was over, but for the stranger’s sake. “You can’t eat that. It’ll lead you to a wrong path, trust me!” he whisper-shouted by her ear. The manager’s ears rose as he was struggling to hear what was going on. He shook his head and headed towards their direction. “Now go, I don’t want to lose my job. I’m just happy I saved you from a life of fried foods-“ he was interrupted by the manager calling his name.

“Humphrey? What are you doing? This customer was just about to enjoy our famous deep fried candy bars!” he almost sang in delight. Yet Humphrey could pick up the sneaking zinger he was going to pull soon.

“Well, I-“ he was interrupted by the young mare.

“I know him, I’m allergic to some of the fried substances in the deep fried candy bars. Sorry, I don’t want to have an allergic reaction or anything,” she instantly remarked, doing her best to save his job. They didn’t even know each other, yet she wanted to save him from demotion. It was so strange. What could she possibly like about him, the weird awkward youngster Humphrey.

“Oh, really is that so? Well, it better be true. So who messed up the order then, was it you or the lousy worker back there?” the manager questioned, staring deeply at Humphrey.

“Jim, I mean, neither of us did this on purpose. It was just one of those accidents,” Humphrey stammered. The manager’s ears flipped up and he sort of grinned.

“Good to know, thank you Humphrey for your honesty. I’ll have a talk with Jim about how we serve food and how it tastes,” the manager almost cackled. Humphrey was lost in his thoughts again, he didn’t know what to say, he wanted to plead no. This couldn’t be, anything but that to Jim. Jim was so innocent in all of this, but why did it have to be on him? All Humphrey could do was stay quiet and stay put.

“Hey Humphrey, for the rest of the day you’re going to have a day off. I’m going to have a meeting with Jim and I’ll see you tomorrow alright-y?” he grinned and patted him on his back. Humphrey gave one last look at the concession stand before turning and heading towards the exit of the carnival. It was all his fault, Jim would never be the same… all because of him.

……….

The next day Humphrey reported to work with fear in his eyes but a fake smile on his face. He was so scared on what had happened to Jim. Jim was his last friend, his partner. And maybe the mare from yesterday was the last person he would ever know. After passing the teacup ride and the ferris wheel, he headed into the concession stand and put on his apron. Jim was there, staring down at the fryer as if it was the most interesting thing in his life.

“Jim!” Humphrey exclaimed. “Jim are you alright? What happened? I was forced to go on a day off, I’m so sorry Jim. Please tell me if you’re alright,” Humphrey begged. But Jim just stared at the fryer. “Jim?” Humphrey asked a bit weaker now.

“Hello coworker Humphrey. I’ve had a meeting with our manager and he’s showed me how much of an honor it is to be working here. He opened my eyes. After I took a delicious bite of our deluxe deep fried candy bars, everything is clear.

"Crystal clear,” Jim replied with no tone to his voice. It was just a straight one, sort of like a programmed machine. Humphrey feared everything now. What had happened? Jim was alright before, and now he had a different personality.

“Jim! Please, say something normal!” Humphrey pleaded.

“Coworker Humphrey, opening time is soon, back to work.” Jim replied with no expression. Humphrey’s eyes welled up and he cried one last time.

“Jim, Jim please I’m begging you!” he cried. Yet Jim stared down at the fryer and continued to stare. Humphrey stood there for a few moments, before just about breaking down inside, and covering his eyes. He was lost now, more than ever in his life. Humphrey grabbed Jim’s ear and whisper-shouted. “Jim, I promise you with my last breath I will fix this place. And I will stop at nothing to get you back. Just for us Jim because this carnival needs a ruler. One who doesn’t let terrible things like this happen!” Humphrey cried, and tore off his apron. He tore off his apron and headed out the exit of the stand, and called.

“Manager!” he called in a highly loud tone. The manager appeared nearby and gave a warm-fake smile.

“Hello, worker Humphrey. How are you? Is there a problem?” he asked with a smirk. Humphrey’s cheeks flared red and so did his eyes.

“Yes. Yes there is a problem manager. You took away my best friend, I have nothing now! And when I come back, I will rule this place with an iron hoof. So you better watch out. When I come back things will change. Your brainwashing schemes will no longer continue. And I will stop at nothing to fix the messes you have made!!” he shouted, and threw the apron at the manager and turned towards the exit, stomping his hooves. While all the eyes stared at him. Wondering why he was going, and why a worker in the carnival wasn’t smiling. Questions whispered through the carnival, wondering… wondering why the manager was no longer happy.

……….

A year had passed, or just about. The name Humphrey had been forgotten, and so had the manager. Marching back into the carnival in his current apparel, he acted like a king. He had changed his voice into a manlier one by magic of course, and his heart had become different along with his beliefs. If he were to be asked to remember that one day he protested against the manager, and wanted the old Jim back. But that had all been in the past. He was now set on conquering the carnival and using ponies to stay there. It was a bit much for only a year’s time, but he had now become the stallion he fought against.

Over the year he had torn down the old concession stand and just replaced it with a bigger one. Meanwhile smaller stands were placed around the carnival. Foods were now bigger and even unhealthier, just like the customers along with them. But he didn't care. He didn't care for any of them unless they were paying for tickets. He was now a ruler as he had always wanted before… of a carnival. No one questioned him, and if they did he’d offer them a super deluxe deep fried chocolate covered candy bar. With extra… surprises according to the menu. Anypony that came in for a small trip would come back for larger trips every day.

And what about Jim? No pony knows, and the Ringleader had not cared anymore. Jim was a thing of the past, and if he wanted a Jim, he could just get one… but deep down he knew he couldn't. But why did that matter anyway? He had all the workers he needed, all the customers he wanted and a carnival all to himself. He could do whatever he wanted, but he knew it wasn't the same. And it never would be. Not without Jim.