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The Lost Episode
The beach was beleaguered, baying like a bloody hound as the babes bumped, bashed, and boxed each other, their bitterness blustering, bursting like the breakers of a too-hard breeze. Begrudged, embroiled, their battle bid the bystanders be-gone, bare feet beating, braking, balking, bee-lining for the boardwalk, bringing blanket and beachball and bemoaning the besetting belligerence.
“What are they fighting about?” said Starlight Glimmer, glimmering.
“Oh, this isn’t how I wanted it to go at all!” sparkled Twilight, simmering in her skin-tight suit. “I just wanted Apple and Jack, Pinkie and Pie, Rainbow and Dash, Flutter and Shy—and Rarity, to meet,” she cried.
“You wanted the mirror girls to mingle,” managed the other, in meditation. “And mustered them through with magic?”
“That was my main motivation,” said Twilight, ameliorating.
Then Pinkie, in her polka dot panties prancing, picked the perfect point to punch Applejack, and with the piercing peal of a practiced pugilist; the prior, pirouetting, her pity drained by pancreatic pain, complained, “Dagnabbit! I’d prefer if you’d pummel a person that’s not from the same dimensional plane!”
Just then the other Jack jumped in, jarring Rainbow number one with a shoulder and a gibe.
“These sands will be soaked in spray tan by the time I’m settled with you!” declared Dash.
Seeing the sight, Rarity number two ceased slapping Shy, setting her down sobbing as Shy smiled in satisfaction; and, charging, sallied singing a note like a soprano—or rather mezzo-soprano—slinging her scalp with the scorn of an excoriated bull, set on skewering the speedy pegasus—when Rarity number one, cutting short her clobbering, calling off the continuous closed-eye clamoring with air, Dash, air, Pinkie, took courage at catching herself chastening her compromised colleague, and crashed with her, following a clothesline, calamitously into Cagey Kat’s Clam Barrel, causing it’s collapse, and covering the cove in carbon-cooked caveman currency.
“You’ve created Kurukshetra,” quipped Sunset Shimmer, all sidles and smiles, glad to gloat her general grasp of the Gita. “Family fights family in a conflagration confounding first and foremost fakirs of a fatuous fastidiousness.”
“Funny,” feigned Twilight to Shimmer, flicking a frown at Glimmer. “I suppose you think you’ve learned everything from your first-year fine art professor, Downlight Dimmer?”
“That’s Moonshine Swimmer,” vouched Sunset as varsity Jack veered violently overhead, validating the invidious Vovinam throw of a Fluttershy. “He has a taste for vino and vodka, it’s true—but in this case, the superior truth is Daring Doo.”
“Daring Doo, of Dash’s druthers?” dottered Twilight.
“You don’t say,” said Starlight.
“I do. Not just her, but Waffle Words, Porky Pounce, Trusty Steed, and Dishabille—wondering who, which, and what, is true.”
“And where are they?” asked Twilight.
“Waiting in the wings,” went Shimmer, waving her thumb at the waterboard shacks. “Wouldn’t you know?”
“Butting heads over whose biographies the best-selling books are based on,” said Starlight, bobbing her head, and bemused.
“Hadn’t bet on that,” bristled Twilight, like a leg hair trimmer.
She, Starlight Glimmer, and Sunset Shimmer, thinking tenderly of Moonshine Swimmer, and not to say Downlight Dimmer, watched the Jacks and Pies and Shys as the sun set into twilight, sparkling the water with glimmers of moon and starlight, early seen and shimmering on the great, powerful horizon of the ocean as their friends frenzied over an unforeseen feature in furtive fanfiction.
“What are they fighting about?” said Starlight Glimmer, glimmering.
“Oh, this isn’t how I wanted it to go at all!” sparkled Twilight, simmering in her skin-tight suit. “I just wanted Apple and Jack, Pinkie and Pie, Rainbow and Dash, Flutter and Shy—and Rarity, to meet,” she cried.
“You wanted the mirror girls to mingle,” managed the other, in meditation. “And mustered them through with magic?”
“That was my main motivation,” said Twilight, ameliorating.
Then Pinkie, in her polka dot panties prancing, picked the perfect point to punch Applejack, and with the piercing peal of a practiced pugilist; the prior, pirouetting, her pity drained by pancreatic pain, complained, “Dagnabbit! I’d prefer if you’d pummel a person that’s not from the same dimensional plane!”
Just then the other Jack jumped in, jarring Rainbow number one with a shoulder and a gibe.
“These sands will be soaked in spray tan by the time I’m settled with you!” declared Dash.
Seeing the sight, Rarity number two ceased slapping Shy, setting her down sobbing as Shy smiled in satisfaction; and, charging, sallied singing a note like a soprano—or rather mezzo-soprano—slinging her scalp with the scorn of an excoriated bull, set on skewering the speedy pegasus—when Rarity number one, cutting short her clobbering, calling off the continuous closed-eye clamoring with air, Dash, air, Pinkie, took courage at catching herself chastening her compromised colleague, and crashed with her, following a clothesline, calamitously into Cagey Kat’s Clam Barrel, causing it’s collapse, and covering the cove in carbon-cooked caveman currency.
“You’ve created Kurukshetra,” quipped Sunset Shimmer, all sidles and smiles, glad to gloat her general grasp of the Gita. “Family fights family in a conflagration confounding first and foremost fakirs of a fatuous fastidiousness.”
“Funny,” feigned Twilight to Shimmer, flicking a frown at Glimmer. “I suppose you think you’ve learned everything from your first-year fine art professor, Downlight Dimmer?”
“That’s Moonshine Swimmer,” vouched Sunset as varsity Jack veered violently overhead, validating the invidious Vovinam throw of a Fluttershy. “He has a taste for vino and vodka, it’s true—but in this case, the superior truth is Daring Doo.”
“Daring Doo, of Dash’s druthers?” dottered Twilight.
“You don’t say,” said Starlight.
“I do. Not just her, but Waffle Words, Porky Pounce, Trusty Steed, and Dishabille—wondering who, which, and what, is true.”
“And where are they?” asked Twilight.
“Waiting in the wings,” went Shimmer, waving her thumb at the waterboard shacks. “Wouldn’t you know?”
“Butting heads over whose biographies the best-selling books are based on,” said Starlight, bobbing her head, and bemused.
“Hadn’t bet on that,” bristled Twilight, like a leg hair trimmer.
She, Starlight Glimmer, and Sunset Shimmer, thinking tenderly of Moonshine Swimmer, and not to say Downlight Dimmer, watched the Jacks and Pies and Shys as the sun set into twilight, sparkling the water with glimmers of moon and starlight, early seen and shimmering on the great, powerful horizon of the ocean as their friends frenzied over an unforeseen feature in furtive fanfiction.