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                         Heat Wave                         
                      -by RossDABoss-                      
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                 It's getting hot in here                  
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It's getting hot in here
For a tired and exhausted Snips, it was not easy attending school; spending merciless hours solving arithmetic, spelling simple words, coloring a picture book, and the most punishing task of all: napping.
Thus, he was particularly excited to be home, where his bed waited for him to sprawl his flabby self out upon its cushiony goodness, which he did so willingly.  His eyes became heavy after several minutes, and he was just about to sleep until his door creaked open.
“There you are, buddy!” Snails cheered in his deep, hoarse tone.  “I've been looking all over for ya!  We have a peeping raid prepared, and you're just going to nap?”
Snips groaned and rolled over to his side, facing away from his friend.  “I'm tired; get somepony else.”
“Uh...there's nopony else to get,” Snails said, his energy deflating as he continued.  “You're the only friend I have.”
“What about Spike?”
He paused, the little hamster inside of his head running at full sprint in its wheel as he processed the information.  “I don't think he would like it too much when one of the mares we'll be peeping is Twilight,” Snails confessed.
“...that is bad,” snorted Snips.  “You're just going to have to do it alone.”
“C'mon, it's not the same without you,” pleaded Snails.  “Our teacher will be on the list,” he enticed.
Well, that was a convincing argument.  Ms. Cheerile does have a nice flank..., thought Snips, and this was enough to persuade him.  “Wait for me outside; I'll get my stick.”
The other unicorn happily nodded and trotted outside.  With a loud groan and a quiet burp, Snips rolled off of the bed and onto his hooves.  From there, he walked to the coner of his room, where his handy wooded stick awaited him.
He was proud of that stick, and he prized ever since he had found it in the park.  It was long, but it was also light and well balanced, enough so that he could hold one end in his mouth and still control the other quite well.  There was also a little branch that jutted out from one of the ends, and it was perfect for lifting a mare's tail without their notice.  Sure, it was a sick game that only a foal would play, but it was the only kind of action he would get before he became a stallion...and even then, that was questionable.
Self degrading thoughts aside, he grabbed the stick in his mouth.  He made to leave, but when he caught a glimpse of his calendar, he froze and his jaw went limp, dropping the stick.  After a minute, he finally worked up the will to ensure that his revelation was correct.  He went up to the calendar, and sure enough, he had been correct.
A horrifying realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
With lightning speed, relative to him, he rushed outside, his legs stumbling and fumbling to bring his already heaving and winded body outside.  When he was to the door, he slammed it open and skidded to a halt in front of his friend.
“There you are...uh, where's you stick?” he asked as Snails caught his breath.
Snips looked up at Snails with a horrified expression.  “Snails, we've got a problem...a really...big...problem.”
“Ah'm gonna tell you somethin',” grumbled Big Macintosh to his human counterpart as they harvested apples.  “Ah've been workin' on this here farm for mah whole life and found a lotta things wrong with th' world.”
“I've been here a while, and I've found a lot of things strange as well,” agreed the human, Keyshawn, as he punched a tree with his gauntlet covered hand.  The blow shook most of the apples out of the tree; to his disappointment, no matter how hard he hit and even with the strength enhancement provided by his gauntlet, he couldn't manage to get all of the apples like Big Mac or Applejack could.
“But, I'm finding this place to be a sort of paradise,” continued Keyshawn.  “Hardly any crime, a firm and uncorrupted government, a stable economy; people back on Earth would murder each other to live in a place like this...it's kind of ironic, now that I think of it.  You should be thankful for that.”
“Ah know, and Ah am.  Ah thank Celestia ev'ry day that we got food to put on th' table.  But sometimes, I see thing that just...ain't right.  Like how butter's made.”
Keyshawn cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Well, ya take a big stick and ya ram it down some keg like ya's tryin' ta murder somepony.  And the sound it makes; it's downright suggestive!”
“Mac...I don't think I follow.”
Macintosh sighed.  “Sometimes, mah sister just loves gettin' on that keg.  Most a' the time, it's just a chore, but others, it's almost her hobby.  She'll be exhausted buckin' trees all day, but then when she needs ta' make the butter, she's gone to that keg.  And she uses all a' her hooves.”
“I...don't see haw making butter is suggestive,” Keyshawn asked in confusion.  “I mean, isn't that the only way to make it without machines?”
“Then there's mah cousins.  They give mah sis the strangest looks when she pumps that keg like that.  They could sit there for hours just starin' at her nonstop.  Y'all might call me crazy, but sometimes, Ah can see drool sligin' out of them mouths.”
“I think I might call you crazy.”
“Big Mac!” two juvenile voices screamed from across the orchard.  The stallion and the human looked towards the disturbance to see two foal, a tall thin one and a short pudgy one, come running in their direction.  They skidded to a halt in front of the laborers, panting and sweating.
“Can ah help you?” Big Mac asked with a raised brow.  “You two look more freaked out than a pegasus in th' Rainbow Factory.”
The two foals, now identified as Snips and Snail, panted for several seconds before they had enough breath to speak.  They checked their surroundings for any eavesdroppers before leaning in to speak their thoughts.  “The days are coming,” they whispered ominously.
Macintosh's eyes widened to their fullest extent and his pupils became the size of peas.  Then, he furrowed his brow and stared accusingly at the foals.  “Y'all better not be pullin' mah leg,” growled Big Mac with a wavering voice.  “I'll buck you two ta next week if ya are!”
Snips and Snails frantically shook their heads.
Keyshawn looked over the entire ordeal, completely confused as to what was happening.  Having unnerved Big Mac, whatever the kids had said must have been something serious.
“So, what's going on?” the human finally asked, to which three bewildered glares responded.
“You mean...you don't know what time of year it is?” asked a flabbergasted Snips.
“It's the heating season!” finished Snails.
Big Mac trotted up to Keyshawn, adorning an extremely serious expression.  “Th' heatin' season is th' time when mares get inta heat, a special period that happens annually where they become very...loose.”

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                   Lets get outta here!                    
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Lets get outta here!
“Every mare in Equestria literally loses their mind, and they hunt down any potential mate,” elaborated Snails to the confused human.  “And I mean any potential mate.  It it's male, they will hump it!”
Keyshawn nearly chuckled, “Well, that doesn't sound too bad; it's kind of humorous, if you ask me.”
“Nonononono, you don't understand!” Snips shouted at him, giving him a stern glare.  “You don't want to become a mate.  Once a mare grabs a hold of you, you become a prisoner of passion and shame!”
This was too much for Keyshawn, and he burst out laughing, tears threatening to pierce his eyes.  His laughter died down a little when Big Mac tapped him on the shoulder.  “Ah'd like ta show ya somethin',” he said seriously.  “Hold yer hand out.”
Keyshawn complied, and, still chuckling, held out his hand.  Big Mac put something in his hand, and the human examined it.  It was a pen.  Keyshawn looked up to Big Mac confusedly.
“Imagine, fer a second, what this pen could be related with, and what a sick mare might do with that there pen.”
For several seconds, Keyshawn just stood there examining the pen until realization hit him.  He reverted his gaze to Big Mac, his face contorted in disgust.  “That's revolting.”
“Now imagine a stallion bein' caught an' used like that...with several mares...nonstop.”
“You can't be serious,” denied Keyshawn in disbelief.
“Ah'm as serious as Ah kin' get,” the stallion answered simply.  “Once a mare in heat grabs a stallion, he becomes the mares' plaything 'til th' heating season's over.”
“...and, how long is that?”
“Five days to a week.”
A week!  Keyshawn dropped the pen as he tried to comprehend what a week of nonstop..activity...must be feel like.  Or, more accurately, how painful it would be.  He became quiet as the thoughts overwhelmed him; even his breathing couldn't be heard.
“Luckily fer all of us,” Big Mac said, breaking the awkward silence, something atypical for him, “Ah've made maself a bunker for this kind of occasion, with enough resources to last us months.”  He cast his gaze to the two foals.  “How much time ya figure we got?”
“I- I don't know,”answered Snails, suddenly very tense.  “It's the middle of June; I don't think we have any time at all!”
“Alright, let's not panic,” Big Mac said, taking calming deep breaths.  “You boys bring as many stallions as ya can back here.  While ya'll do that, Ah'll-”
“Wait a minute!” interrupted Keyshawn.  “Why would the mayor or the princesses not make an announcement of some kind about this?” he asked.
“They're mares!” Snips responded.  “Of course they'd say nothing!”
Just like in the old times back home, Sam and Tim were enjoying a peaceful stroll through the park, chatting and enjoying each others company as the sun set around them, casting a soft orange glow over landscape.  The scene was simply too marvelous, and they felt compelled to stop and take everything in.
“Sam!  Tim!”
And there went the serenity.  The two humans turned to see Keyshawn running towards them, his expression terrified.
“Way to kill the mood,” scorned Sam as Keyshawn caught up to them, panting slightly and body trembling.
“Listen, we need to talk.  We seriously need to talk.  I don't know how much time we have or if we're already too late, but we-”
“Whoa whoa whoa, there...slow down,” Sam said, not understanding the rush words of his friend.  “Now, uh...what exactly has you worked up?”
“Heating season, stupid!” yelled Keyshawn, and Sam was taken aback by the sudden outburst.  “It's here!”
Sam's composure came back quickly, and he immediately tried to calm down his irritable friend.  Tim, meanwhile, appeared concerned.
“We need to gather as many ponies as possible, and you care about your safety, you need to-”
“Chill out, 'Shawn,” he said in response to the still incomprehensibly fast speech his friend was giving.  “You're expecting us to be panicked about this 'heating season', but you haven't even told us what that is.”
“A heating season is a period of time in which the hormones in a species females become abnormally acute, making them, um...hyper affectionate,” elaborated Tim.
Sam looked to Tim, having not expected his friend to speak, but one Tim had concluded, he reverted his gave to Keyshawn.  And then...he laughed.
“This is serious, Sam!” argued Keyshawn.  “It's only a matter of time before-”
But Sam's laughter grew as Keyshawn attempted to defend himself, and he eventually needed to lean on Tim for support.  Tim, for his part, seemed to take to Keyshawn's warning seriously.  “The two of you are really something, you know that?” asked Sam rhetorically as his laughter died down.
As soon as Sam was steady, Keyshawn slapped a pen into his hand.  Sam looked down at it for several seconds as his chuckles died down.  Tim looked at it too, and, understanding the implications, a look or terror spread across his features.
Which only made Sam laugh again.
“What's wrong with your brain!” Keyshawn said viciously.  “You know that that's what's going to happen to you is a mare gets hold of you!”
Taking a couple of seconds to subdue his laughter, Sam casually walked over to his panicked friend.  Patting him on the back, he said, “Keyshawn Keyshawn, Keyshawn...have you forgotten what we are?”  To this, Keyshawn gave a blank stare.  “Aside from the Princesses, we're this world's three most capable beings.  We can easily protect ourselves from any sex crazed mare."
“I...I guess that's a good point,” conceded Tim.  He chuckled out of embarrassment.  “I suppose I didn't take that into consideration.”
“How would you reckon we'd outrun Rainbow Dash?  Or Pinkie Pie...especially Pinkie Pie?” and a slightly calmer Keyshawn.
“We could be long gone before any of them know where we've been,” assured Sam.  “We'll run miles away from Ponyville and hunker down until the heat passes.  After all, how do think I managed to get away from Ashley when she's like that?”
That was a good point...
“Now, c'mon,” continued Sam as he walked away from them, motioning for them to follow.  “Let's escape from here.”  As he walked away, his shoes began to glow light blue as its speed boosting enchantment prepared to help him zip out of the town.
“I'm not sure if you're aware of this or not,” panned Keyshawn, “but the two of us aren't exactly capable of keeping up with you.”
“Well, sucks for you.  Perhaps-”
“Maybe we can go see Twilight and see if she has any speed boosting spells she could cast on us?” offered Tim.
Sam sighed.  “Yeah fine, let's go.”
“You two are forgetting the heat!” chastised Keyshawn, who scowled at the ridiculous plan.
“You said yourself you don't know how much time we have,” countered Sam.  “If we hurry, we might be able to beat her to it.”
Reluctantly, Keyshawn agreed, and the three of them hurried towards the library.

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                         Now what?                         
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Now what?
The three humans made their way to the library as quickly as they could.  The sun was nearly completely below the horizon.  Being late in the evening, the streets were quite void of activity, which would have allowed them to reach their destination faster had it not been for Tim's lack of physical fitness.  Not even a few minutes into their run, he was completely winded, and the trio was forced to the pace of a light jog.
Sam was annoyed by this, but refrained from scolding his intelligent friend, not wanting to break the silence and possibly give their position away in case they were indeed too late to escape the heat.  At least he'd be able to escape, and in dire enough circumstances, that would be all that mattered.
Suddenly, what felt like a shockwave-like pulse ripped through the three of them.  Sam's shoes quaked, knocking him off balance.  He face planted into the dirt due to the intensity of the vibrations.  Looking down, he saw his footwear glowing a deep blue before its odd behavior finally ceased.  He looked up to Keyshawn, whose face showed he felt something similar from his gauntlet, though without the falling over part.
“Are you two okay?” asked Tim concernedly, rushing over to help his downed friend up.  “What happened?” he continued upon seeing his friends uninjured.
“I don't know,” replied Keyshawn.  “My glove just started...shaking.  Then it glowed, then it stopped.  Any idea what that was about?”
“Well, considering I didn't actually feel anything, I am suspicious that whatever you felt is related to the magic that surrounds your gauntlet and shoes respectively,” replied Tim.  “I can't say I can conclude anything beyond that.”
Sam began walking away from them, saying, “Alright, that was weird.  I'm going to go on ahead to the library.  Hopefully Twilight isn't insane yet and I can ask her what that was before she does go crazy.”  He then sprinted forward, calling upon the magic in his shoes to help him get to his destination faster.
But he didn't get there faster.
In fact, his shoes refused to respond at all, confusing him.  He stopped and turned to his friends, whom he only got a few feet away from before realizing that something was wrong.
“Whatever happened, it seems to be negating the effects of your things,” Tim noted.  “Still, we can't assume that that's the only effect.”
“Then let's go,” beckoned Sam.  “The longer we stay here, the larger chance of getting caught we have.”  Agreeing, the other two followed and they continued their run to the library.
“It seems quiet,” Tim commented as the three of them stood in front of the entrance to the large tree structure.  They had diligently made towards the library after the odd occurrence before, but the sun had since receded completely behind the horizon.  It was very dark, save for the candlelight coming out from the library's windows, and everyone had gone inside to sleep, leaving the streets eerily silent.
“I...I don't know anymore,” Keyshawn said concernedly, shivering slightly.  He tossed his head around, checking for any signs of followers.  “The...the silence is deafening.”
“Let's just get in there, have Twilight help us out with that pulse thing from earlier, then get out of here,” said Sam.  “We'll be out of here in no time.”  He stepped up and prepared to knock, but the door responded first.  It swung open viciously, nearly taking Sam out along the way.  Spike then ran through the open doorway.
“Prepare your anus!  Prepare your anus!  Prepare your aaanuuus!” he screamed as loudly as he could, passing the humans and heading in the approximate direction of Sweet Apple Acres.  Twilight stepped out of the open doorway behind him, her pupils shrunken and a maniacal grin plastered on her face.
Upon seeing the three humans, her tail shot up in the air.  “Ooh, this is so exciting!” she proclaimed.  “Four for one!”
Keyshawn turned around and trailed after Spike, who had not gotten to far from the group.  “Get away from me!” he screamed.  His partners, however, stayed behind for a few seconds, remembering to get away only when the mare was mere feet from them.
At the head of the pack, Keyshawn continued to scream and whimper loudly.  “Stop screaming, you buffoon!” scolded Spike from beside him.  “You'll awaken the whole freakin' town!”
The advice came too late, though, as behind them they could hear doors opening and curious mares following.  Having caught up to Keyshawn and Spike, Sam chanced a glance behind to see just what kind of commotion they had stirred.  No longer was it just Twilight giving chase; instead, it was now a sizable herd of heating mares, most of whom were producing provocative or seductive sounds, making their intentions clear.
“We've got to get out of here!” exclaimed Sam, despite the fact that his party knew this fact already.  “Anyone have an idea where we should go?”
“Mac's got a bunker made just for events like these,” suggested Spike.  “We could hunker down there until the heat passes.”
“Sounds good,” agreed Sam, and the four of them set their course for the apple orchard.
For nearly twenty minutes they ran, and they gained a significant lead on the crazed mares, enough so that they were content with slowing their pace to catch their breath and conserve their energy for a later time.  They had made good progress towards the farm; only a few minutes away by walking.  Feeling safe, they walked.
“Since Twilight is unavailable at the moment,” began Sam as something crossed his mind, “you seem like the next best source for things regarding magic.”
“I don't know about that,” said Spike humbly, “but I can try to help you out.  What's up?”
“Well, the three of us were all heading to the library to see if Twilight could possibly help these two slowpokes run faster so we could get out of Ponyville before crap hit the fan, but on the way, this weird pulse thing went through us, and our magic stuff got all weird.”
Tim moved in closer to interject a comment of his own.  “Also, I felt nothing.  Don't know if that'll help the diagnosis, but it's something.”
Spike rubbed his chin in thought.  “Hmm.  I don't know what that was, but I felt a little something too.  When I asked Twilight about it, she started acting a little strange and claimed that somepony had requested that a certain spell be cast and that I had just missed them.  I could tell she was lying, though.  But it's safe to say that whatever she did caused your things to act up.”
“That doesn't help too much,” muttered Sam.  “But thanks for trying.”
Suddenly, from behind them, they could hear a stallion screaming.  They all looked behind them to see one being chased by a mare, and his screams could be heard clearly by them, despite the distance.  The stallion tripped over his hooves and crashed into the ground.  Within moments, the mare was mounted on top of him.  “Have mercy!” they heard him beg, to which the mare gave no signs of intending to cooperate.  “No...no, not the horn!”
With vigor fed by fear, the four of them sprinted as fast as they could, reaching the supposed safety of Sweet Apple Acres in a time that would make even Rainbow Dash jealous.
“What th' buck is this!?” cursed Macintosh as he kicked the locked door of his bunker.  “Ah had this here unlocked!”  With him and the foal Snips and Snails were three other stallions: the owner of Quills and Sofas, Davenport, an upper class noblepony who picked an unfortunate time to visit, Fancypants, and the only male Wonderbolt to escape the clutches of his female cohorts, Sorin'.
Snips looked about tentatively.  “This...this is premeditated.  Your sister; she...she did this,” he accused.
“Mah sis'd do nothin' of the kind.”
“Well, they'll get us for sure if we do nothing!” Snails shouted back.  From a distance away, the small group could hear the faint sounds of Ponyville's mare population becoming active.
Fancypants squinted into the distance.  “If I didn't know any better, I would say that we best devise a course of action quickly.  The mares most certainly are coming our way.  It appears that we've also got visitors.”
Four distinctly shaped silhouettes broke forth from the horizon, unmistakably being the three humans and one chubby dragon.  They were approaching at full speed, but as they got closer, their pace slowed to a jog, until finally they joined up with Mac's small group.
“Hey Sam,” Soarin' greeted immediately, trotting up to offer hoof, which Sam promptly bumped with his hand.  “How've you been?”
“Not good,” panted Sam in response.  “A lot of running and panic; must be the worst day I've had since comin' here.”
“Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad,” the Wonderbolt jokingly argued back.  “Nothing's perfect.”
While the two of them chatted, Spike went to the bunker door, which Big Mac was staring at thoughtfully.  He pulled on the knob, and the door refused to budge.
“Why's it locked?” the dragon asked curiously.
Rubbing his chin, Macintosh replied, “Tryin' ta solve that mahself.  Was unlocked this mornin'.”
In desperation, Spike attempted to claw his way through the door.  “It won't give,” he snorted when that failed.
By this time, Tim had taken an interest in their proceedings and had walked over to  investigate.  After Spike's failed attempt at getting in, Tim approached the door and inspected it.  “Titanium steel,” he mumbled after appraising the metal.  “You must have prepared many precautions for the season, Mac.”
“Than Ah do,” he responded plainly.
Keyshawn had also come to the door and had overheard their conversation.  Desperate and scared, the man drew his fist back, prepping a devastating punch.
“Wait!” cautioned Tim, but his warning fell on deaf ears.
Crack!
Keyshawn fell to the ground, clenching his armored fist in pain.  His gauntlet had prevented any disfiguring injuries, but needless to say, based on Keyshawn's reaction, it was painful.
“Your gauntlet's magic is being interrupted, remember?” Tim reminded him, to which low whimpers were the only reply.
Trotting away from them all, Davenport stared in the direction Sam and the others had arrived from.  The hoots and hollers of the town's mares was still audible, and even slightly louder than they had been before.
“They're getting closer,” he said, getting the entire group's attention.  “We should get out of here.  Any ideas?”
“Well, escaping to another town is out of the question,” mused Soarin'.  “We'll likely run into this problem again.  We could try a cave nearby...but without supplies, we wouldn't last long anyways.”
“Heading back, then, is our best option,” Tim concluded, gazing where Davenport had been looking out to not too long ago.
“Are you nuts!?” shouted Snails.  “You want us to go back!?”
As Tim tried defending himself, Sam stayed silent, instead trying to think of a less crazy course of action.  Nothing came to mind.
“I found a stallion!” yelled a feminine voice from not far off.  Sam's thoughts, along with the rest of the group's, were halted, and as one they perked up and began looking for the source.
The earth pony mare made no effort to hide as she slowly stepped out of the orchard nearby.  Her tongue hung out of her mouth and her tail was stuck high in the air.  A foul musky scent permeated the air around her, overpowering the group's nostrils, making them gag.
Then, she unexpectedly charged them.  Seeing her advance, the boys all turned to run.  An impact and a high pitched yelp sounded from the back of the group.  Turning back briefly, Fancypants saw that Davenport had been tackled and swiftly mounted by the mare.  He rushed to help him, but was stopped when Soarin' bit his tail and pulled him back.  “It's too late for him!” Soarin' shouted.  “He's gone!”
More mares came forth from the apple orchard, which was enough to prompt the noblepony to leave at Soarin's insistence.  Five of the newcomers pounced on the businesspony, whose dying horrific screams burned into the minds of the groups remaining members as they ran.

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                    Unfortunate events                     
//-------------------------------------------------------//
Unfortunate events
Three days later
The inside of the tree house library was hot, proving itself to be a microwave even during the cool night without any form of air ventilation.  All of the windows were covered with boards save for the one on the second level which was used by the tree's occupants for observing.  Sam, presently laying on Twilight's bed, carefully creaked the window open to watch the street below.  It was deserted.  Any unfortunate stallions who had been roaming the street when the Heat struck had already been dragged away so some undisclosed location, their pleas for help going unanswered and unheard.  Such desertion was not an unwelcome sight, however, and Sam leaned away from the window and sighed in relief, content that nothing had discovered their hiding spot yet.
For the past three days, the small group of males had taken refuge in the most unlikely of places, Twilight's library.  Somehow, they had evaded capture and Twilight had not returned during those days.  The activities for the tree house's occupants had fallen to predictable patterns: Fancypants and Tim delved in small talk, Soarin', surprisingly, spent his time reading, and Keyshawn sat curled in a corner, slowly rocking and mumbling to himself.  Spike, bless his heart, tried his best to provide the disgruntled human comfort, while Macintosh did a lot of nothing, and Snips and Snails raided Twilight's fridge.  The two colts were currently noisily eating peanut butter and jelly sandwhiches.
“Did you see anything outside?” Soarin' asked Sam as the human descended the tiny staircase.
“It's a ghost town,” Sam replied, taking a seat on a pillow near the round table in the center of the library.  “Since we've huddled up in here, I haven't seen a single pony outside.”
The pegasus nodded and promptly returned to his Daring Do novel.  Meanwhile, across the room, Tim and Fancypants' conversation had turned towards his life in Canterlot.  “Well, I can't deny that it's a comfortable life void of all the worries common folk such as yourselves face.”
The statement caught the attention of everyone in the room, save for Soarin'.  Now the center of attention, Fancypants raised his volume to address his additional audience.  “It may sound like a wonderful dream to live with such luxury and with so little cares, and indeed it is for a limited time.  But, there's a certain point where life becomes...lackluster.  Boring; predictable; void of the chaos that makes the simple life an admirable feat of existence.  The privileged life is...unfulfilling.”
“As if you've experienced everything but it all means nothing,” Sam finished.
“Precisely,” Fancypants agreed.  “But would I give it up?  No, not unless I had to.  The spotlight is where I belong.  I'm a sort of role model amongst the nobles and rich snobs.  And even though their hearts have been sold to the highest bidder, I still try to instill in them a good, unselfish example.”
Aside from the noisy patter coming from Snips and Snails in the dining room as they ate, the library fell silent for a few second.  “Y'all should visit us sometime, then,” offered big Mac, surprisingly being the one to break the silence.  “It's 'bout as common and unsophisticated as ya can get, and we still make th' best apple pies 'round.”
“I thank you for the generous offer, Mr. Big Mac, and I will certainly try to arrange it once we're out of this mess.”
Snips and Snails could be heard shoveling down more food, reminding Tim of something.  “Is anyone hungry?” he asked the group.
“I am,” Soarin' answered first, not diverting his attention from his book.
The others said the same, and Tim jumped to his feet and made towards the kitchen to prepare some food for himself and his friends.  When he got into the kitchen, which doubled as the dining room, he stood, mouth agape, at the scene before him.  The cupboards, drawers, and fridge had all been thoroughly raided, proudly displaying the lack of food each one contained.  Additionally, Snips and Snails had crumbs and other refuse littered about them and the table, a clear indicator that they were the barbarians responsible.
“We're out of food!” Tim called back to his companions in the other room.  Aside form Keyshawn and Spike, everyone rushed out to confirm with their own eyes.  And upon seeing the bare shelves, they all glared angrily at the two colts.
“That...that was supposed to last us a week!” Sam stated in disbelief.
Macintosh came over and gave the empty cupboards an elongated look-over.  His eyes narrowed and he stomped the floor furiously.  “Snips and Snails!” he shouted, turning to face them.  The two colts shrank away from the enraged stallion and tried to avoid his death-glare by hiding behind each other.  “Ya two nincompoops ate all our food!”
“Sorry,” they whimpered.
“Sorry?  Sorry?  Is that all ya got to say for yourselves, is that you're sorry!?”  Big Mac's pure rage almost made him literally combust, and it took the rest of the company holding him back to save the two colts from getting a well deserved buck.
“This is the end!” Keyshawn shouted from the other room.  “We're going to starve in here,” he said, rocking himself back and forth more intensely.
“Stop shouting!” Sam shouted to him, perfectly demonstrating hypocrisy.  “There could be a mare walking by; we don't want them to know we're here.”
The warning was left unheeded.  “I don't care anymore!” the distraught man screamed.  “Let them come; we're only prolonging the inevitable!”
Spike put his hand to Keyshawn's chin and lifted his head to his level, then gave the man's cheek a powerful slap, a red mark forming on the site of impact as a testament of the strength of the blow.  “Calm down, dude; it's not the end of the world,” Spike scolded.
“I...I'm sorry,” Keyshawn said, following with some calming, meditative breathing.  “I'm not myself today,” he said after having calmed himself sufficiently.  “Lost my cool is all.”
“It happens to all of as,” Spike assured.  “Just don't let it happen again, and you're forgiven.”  Keyshwan's rocking stopped and he gave his draconic friend a warm smile.
“Glad to have ya back with us,” Big Mac said as he reentered the library's main room.  “With that out of the way, there's still the food problem.  One'a us has gotta go out there and get some.”  Everyone looked around at each other, waiting to see if anyone was willing to volunteer.
“Not it,” Snips and Snails said in unison after a few seconds of tense silence, to which everyone replied with piercing death-glares.  They gulped nervously as Big Mac walked nervously.
“Ya two got us into this mess,” he said with a hint of mirth, “and I suggest ya find a way to get us out of it.”
The colts looked out a nearby window overlooking the deserted and foreboding streets.  “We're not going out there,” Snips said shakily.
“Yea you are,” Mac replied adamantly.  “Ya two are gonna man up and take responsibility for yer actions.”
“We're taking no responsibility!” Snails shouted back defiantly.  “We're too young to be taking responsibility.”
“Ain't no such thing.  Now git out there and take it like a stallion!”
“But...but we don't want to lose out virginity!” Snips whined.
“Neither do Ah!”
By this point, the rest of the crew had gathered around the arguing stallions, nodding along with what Big Mac had been saying, obviously in agreement with his decision.  However, with his last statement, they all gave him odd and surprised looks.  The atmosphere became silent, awkward, and tense, which only increased exponentially as the seconds dragged on.
“Let me check upstairs before we decide on anything,” Sam suggested, trying to defuse the tension.  No one objected, and he quickly proceeded into Twilight's room, where he  opened the window and cautiously peered out of it.
Suddenly, Pinkie Pie shot up from out of nowhere.  Her face was mere inches from Sam's, and a maniacal grin was splayed across her face.  Her sudden appearance mad Sam yelp and quickly retreat back inside, slamming the window shut and covering it with his body, as if thinking that blocking her view of the inside would make him disappear from her vision.  “Guys, we've got a problem,” he announced loudly.  “It's Pink-”
One of Pinkie's hooves shot through the window, somehow reaching around and grabbing onto Sam despite the lack of space.  With all her might, which was much more than Sam thought she was capable of producing, she tried to pry Sam through the smashed-out window.  “Help!” he screamed as Pinkie's other forehoof managed to find a physically impossible way to get itself around him and pull.  Her strength was too much for him, and he was sent through the open hole in the wall.  Luckily, he managed to get a hand on the bottom of the windowsill and continued resisting.
Fortunately for him, the rest of the guys had heard his call for help and had quickly clambered up the stairs before Pinkie could pull him out any further.
“You're mine!” Pinkie screamed maniacally.  Wasting no time, Tim rushed over and grabbed onto Sam's outstretched arm and tried to pull him back through the window.  The others, save for Keyshawn who panicked and fled back to his corner, joined in.  Pinkie was quickly overpowered, and along with Sam, came shooting back into Twilight's bedroom.  Sam lay panting on the floor, exhausted by his exertion, while Pinkie stood triumphantly over him, her grin widening to creepy proportions.
“I say, my dear,” Fancypants said as he walked to Pinkie's side, “your attitude is most improper.”  He swiftly turned and bucked Pinkie off of Sam and into the wall, but not so hard as to give her any lasting injuries.  Dazed by the impact, Pinkie was unable to react in time as Twilight's mattress was flung towards her and magically fastened to the wall, rendering all but her head immobile.
By this point, Sam was finally on his feet again.  He walked over to where Pinkie had been immobilized, crouching so that his face was right in front of hers.  “Looks like you're not having your way with me today, Pinkie,” he taunted.  He tried to say more while withdrawing, but before he had the opportunity, Pinkie's neck stretched in a cartoonish fashion, forcing her lips onto his.  Her tongue forced its way into his mouth, and with a surprising amount of dexterity, formed a vice grip around his own.  She moaned sensually as her heat inspired lust was partially satisfied, and she held him there for several seconds.
Completely stunned by the intrusion, Sam failed to react, even when Pinkie pulled away and a devious smirk crossed her face.  His stupor was broken when she loudly announced in a sing-song voice, “They're in the library~!”
The group panicked and scurried downstairs, where they immediately began pushing, bucking, and levitating any heavy object in sight in front of the door.  Their handiwork finished, they took a step back to see if it would hold.  Not a second later, furious pounding could be heard from the other side.  The barricade gave in slightly due to the force from the mares attempting to break in, and the guys pushed back in response.
“Do you think this will hold them off?” Tim asked loudly, straining himself against a table.
“It feels like it is,” Soarin' replied.  “If we're lucky, we won't be worth the effort and they'll bug off.”
The bombardment lasted for several long minutes, neither side lessening their efforts.  Tired from their exertion, though, the males' resistance soon began to dwindle.  The door began to finally open, shoving everything trying to keep it closed back.
“You know,” Snails said, straining with effort, “they could just use magic to get in.”
The mares outside immediately halted their barrage.  With the sudden lack of opposition, they forced everything back into place and lost their balance.  There was a brief second of delay, which the guys used to get back on their feet and give Snails a death-glare so intense that Snails' heart literally skipped a beat.
“I hate you,” Snips whispered to his dimwitted no-longer-friend.  Almost immediately, the door exploded inwards, hurling the parts of their impromptu barricade scattering in all directions.  The guys ducked for cover, and luckily, no one was crushed.  They got to their feet and looked to the open door, where several panting mares were standing, staring at them with hungry eyes.
Keyshawn screamed and ran upstairs, the only prompting needed for the mares to follow him up the stairs and give chase.  In a desperate attempt to escape, he opened the door to the library's balcony and charged through the boards that they had nailed across the doorway to prevent anything from getting in.  He continued to run, hopping onto the balcony's railing, then jumping off the railing and plummeting to the ground below.
Fortunately for them all, the mares halted their pursuit to help unfasten Pinkie from the wall, giving the rest of them time to zip past and follow Keyshawn's lead.  Sam was first to follow, leaping and landing with a roll and rising unsteadily to his feet.  Having never leapt from a building before, Fancypants gracelessly landed on his side.  Soarin' simply flew, carrying Spike on his back..  Tim and Big Mac jumped off simultaneously, each landing squarely on their feet and hooves.  Tim cringed in pain from the impact but was otherwise unharmed.
“Let's get out of here,” Sam said when they were all on their feet.
“Wait; what about Snips and Snails?” Soarin' asked.
They all looked up to see the two colts clinging to each other and peering over the railing.  They were afraid to jump; justifiably so, as it was a fair distance to fall.  Suddenly, two pink hooves shot out from behind them and dragged them out of the group's view.
“I can't take this anymore!” Keyshawn shouted, pure terror saturating his voice.  He sped away form the group and down the main roadway, squealing and flailing his arms.  Several of the mares that had gathered around the outside of the library trailed after him.
There was nothing the rest of them could do for the colts or for Keyshawn, and they took off before any other mares noticed that they were there.
Sticking to the backstreets and alleyways of Ponyville served the weakened group no good.  They had inadvertently alerted a wandering group of mares and had been aimlessly traversing the rarely used streets since.  During their run, they passed by one of Ponyville's landmarks, the Carousel Boutique.  As they approached, the door opened and Rarity stuck her head out.  Upon seeing the stallions, she retreated back into her home to fetch some rolls of ribbon.
As the stallions passed, she sped out the door and, using her magic, wrapped a length of ribbon around Big Mac's hind legs, tripping him up and causing him to face plant.  “My darling,” she said seductively, reeling in her catch, “you're going to look dashing in leather...”
The other tried to pull him away from the lustful unicorn, but with the pursuing mares fast approaching, they were forced to retreat.  Big Mac desperately hoofed at the ground, trying to get d foothold and pull himself away from Rarity, to no avail.  “Help, guys!” he plearing ot him retreating company.  When they failed to come back for him, he panicked.  “No...no, I don't wanna make butter!”
Spike, still riding on Soarin's back, gave one last glance an the unfortunate Big Mac.  Upon seeing his dear Rarity, an idea formed in his mind.  “This is my chance,” he mumlbed, but Soarin' overheard.
“What?” the Wonderbolt spat in disbelief, looking back to Spike.  “Are you crazy?”
Giving no response, Spike leapt off of Soarin' and dashed towards Rarity.  She had just finished dragging Big Mac into her home, and when she saw Spike approaching, she tripped him up with another length of ribbon.  She levitated his bound form into her home, and a couple of the pursuing mares accompanied him, while the others stayed hot on the trail of Soarin' and Fancypants.
The door to the Boutique magically slammed behind Rarity, dooming Spike and Big Mac to their unfortunate fates.