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Well It Starts As A Joke...
Right, so this is the story of that one time me and the girls got absolutely clobbered.
Well, I say one time, we’ve been clobbered plenty—trees, pets, carrot farmers, fences, unfortunate teachers, hedges, buildings (destructible and non), each other, unreasonably angry carrot farmers; you name it, we’ve either run into it, over it, or through it. But, uh, this time was particularly bad. And less of a physical clobbering, you know? More just, well. Life. Just, beating us round the head a lot. Metaphorically. And physically too, I guess.
It also happened about eight minutes ago, so I might need to book it soon.
See we were all chillin’ (cos that’s a thing we do, we’re cool ponies and we chill) in the square trying to think of something to do. Normally we’d be trying to “pick up a new hobby or skill” (Sweetie says that’s how we should say it cos it might make ponies less angry with us; I dunno about that but whatever) but AB’s sis threw us out of our super-secret-clubhouse and then off her farm after her granny broke her jaw in an incident that definitely wasn’t anything to do with us—
Eh? Oh right, yeah. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom. They’re my best friends. Don’t tell them I said that, they’ll get all sappy and gross, ugh.
Sweetie Belle’s kinda a dork—she’s always shrieking about her mane or her fur or her teeth or something, and she gets all weird about things like mud and bugs. But she’s dead clever and that one time she broke Silver Spoon’s nose so she’s cool. Her sister’s a total buzzkill though; going on and on about ‘rare fabrics’ and ‘damage inshurens’ and ‘terror pee bills’. Not sure what pee has to do with ducks but whatever.
Applebloom’s kinda a square—she’s always going on about being ‘careful’ and ‘not hitting Silver Spoon in her stupid fat face’ and ‘responsibility’. But she’s good in a scrap once you drag her into it, and she’s great at getting us outta some of the, er, tighter corners we’ve been in, so she’s cool. Her sister’s terrifying. Oh sure, everyone always says that Applejack’s so ‘polite’ and ‘honest’ and ‘hard-working’, but they’ve never been chased by her after they accidentally flooded her room. That mare is a demon.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, right.
Chillin’.
See we’re not allowed on school grounds outside of school hours anymore ever since Featherweight got that retraining order—er, restaurant order? Summin’ like that—so that was a no go, and with the club house out we couldn’t really go to our usual hangouts. So there we were. AB was just kinda kickin’ her hooves at the dirt, Sweetie was counting the ants cos’ she’s kinda weird like that, and I was bored. Outta. My. Mind.
“Let’s do something.”
The other two turned to me, all chill like, cos’ we were, as previously mentioned, chillin’.
“Wha’d’ya mean ‘do something’, Scoots?” Apple Bloom didn’t seem too invested, she just did that one-eyebrow-raised thing she does that makes her look like her sister (AKA terrifying) and kept kicking her hooves. Sweetie didn’t answer, she just sort of swivelled her head around all owl-like to blink at me.
She’s… really kind of weird sometimes. Anyway:
“I dunno. Play a game? Push Featherweight in the creek again? Beat up Diamond Tiara?” I paused, considering. “Actually, that last one sounds pretty fun right now.”
Sweetie frowned. It made her look a bit like a very large, multicoloured moth. “Rarity said we shouldn’t do that anymore. She said it was a ‘delicut poe litter cull sit you asian’.”
Yeah no, I dunno what that’s supposed to be either. AB apparently did though, cos’ she just snorted and said, “Yeah, cos’ her dad’s Filthy Rich. Literally.” She stretched a little, then bounced to her hooves and gave the two of us a grin.
I knew that grin. That grin meant the fun kind of trouble.
“But just cos’ we can’t beat her up, doesn’t mean we can’t do a harmless little prank... Right girls?”
Heh. She may be a stick in the mud most of the time, but sometimes?
AB has the best ideas.
The room was… well, not dead silent. But almost.
See, I’m a tough filly. I can take my knocks, and I can heckin’ well dish ‘em out too. And this girl we’re talking to, she’s not exactly tough, you know? Small, pretty scrawny, could probably lay her out with one hoof. But despite all that, she scares me.
It’s the eyes I think. Last time I saw eyes like that, they were on a changeling at that Royal Wedding disaster. All cold and distant. Like you’re food.
So we sat there, the four of us, and the room was dead quiet. The only thing that interrupted it was her mother’s snoring.
“So,” said Ruby Pinch quietly, leaning back in her chair. Behind her, Berry kind of snuffled, then did a half-turn-half-flop-on-her-front and resumed snoring. Ruby ignored her. “You want some wine.”
“Y-yeah,” AB sorta stuttered a bit, but she rallied pretty well. There’s a reason she’s kind of the leader (DON’T tell her I said that). “Not to drink or anything! That’d be immoral. Just gonna prank Diamond Tiara. It’ll stain, see?”
Ruby‘s about half AB’s size, but I swear she somehow made a raised eyebrow feel like a prison shank at the back of the neck. If there’s one pony I want to piss off less than Applejack, it’s her.
“And if this is traced back to me? I can hardly be expected to take the fall for your… endeavour.” She didn’t do anything else either, just looked at us.
Buuuuut this is getting boring, and honestly I don’t really wanna think about it too much, gives me the creeps. Long story short, AB did some quick talking, we all promised to say the wine came from one of Pinkie’s secret stashes or something on pain of hopefully-not-actual death, and then we got the heck outta dodge.
Urgh. Those eyes. I’m tellin’ ya lady, that is one scary—anyway. We had the wine, now we just needed to find Diamond. As it turned out—not too hard!
“Alright, target’s in position.”
I think it was supposed to be a harsh whisper, like those spies in movies and stuff, but honestly Sweetie just sounded kinda constipated. But, whatever—it got the job done.
See, we were all squeezed behind this crate in a small alley off of the main market square—one of those places people store fish in, or hire a hooker, whatever that is. Babs never really explained… whatever. Point is, we’re all sitting in this alley, waiting patiently for juuuust the right moment. Turns out Diamond Tiara was in the market, BUYING stuff.
What a loser.
Now, Sweetie’s on lookout over the crate—her mane blended in with the fish best—and the moment she gives the OK? That’s when I break out the magic, heheh.
Well okay, not literally, but hey! Bet you didn’t know ol’ Scoots was a dab hoof at ventriloquism! Pitch my voice up a little, throw it over there, and all of a sudden Silver Spoon’s asking her to come see the cool thing she found. Now I gotta admit, Diamond Tiara’s not a total idiot—she seemed at least a little suspicious. Didn’t stop her from coming down the alley though, and the moment she was out of view—sploosh! Apple Bloom was just waiting in the wings with the barrel of wine we got from Pinch, and her aim’s pretty dang good. And then....
See, this is where the story should have ended. We prank the rich nag, point and laugh, then go home job done, ya know?
Except. Ol’ Pinchy made a mistake—well, one of her mooks did. Hoo boy, don’t think I’ve ever seen her as pissed as when she told me that. So to our surprise, instead of being stained a lovely red, Diamond’s coat is as transparent as the liquid we threw on her—not that we have much time to think about it, cos’ the moment the liquid splashes into her face she shrieks.
Turns out straight ethanol kinda stings.
Again—this is where the story should end. But our luck’s never been the best, and I’m pretty sure it picked today to take a break. See, as Diamond’s yelling and complaining, she stumbles back into this stack of boxes. The whole thing collapses on top of her, and the metal crowbar someone left on top of it falls to the ground, sparking slightly off the cobblestone.
That’s when Diamond Tiara caught fire. Well, I say she caught fire—the whole pile of boxes did too. Turns out fish is kinda flammable, who knew? Anyway, Diamond is now yelling even louder, although I can’t really blame her, and me and the girls are panicking. Just a little, mind. We may not like the stuck-up little hussy, but we didn’t want to set her on fire! That’s, like, at least a week's worth of grounding. Nobody wants that.
“Oh sweet horseapples!” Apple Bloom shouted, and then just kinda flailed at her—I think she was going for stamping out the fire, but didn’t want to touch her and get burned? I dunno. Then she tried just sorta flinging dirt at her from her hooves, but that didn’t really do much either. Sweetie Belle was just staring (it was kinda creepy to be honest, all blank and wide-eyed) but me?
Well.
In my defence, I was panicking. And my first thought was that we had to throw something big on her, to smother the fire ya know? And well, Sweetie had been sitting on my shoulders for a while now to see over the crate and she’s kinda big and heavy, and…
Yeah. I threw Sweetie at her. And, to be fair to me, it worked! No more fire. At least on DT, but the boxes were just kinda smouldering. Smelt awful, but no danger there. Anyway, problem solved! Sweetie Belle was not happy with me though, and boy did she let me know. I was trying to tune out all her moaning about ‘burns’ and ‘missing teeth’ when Apple Bloom said the phrase that doomed us.
“Uh, girls? She’s not moving.”
The two of us froze, and slowly turned to look at AB slowly poking at what was undoubtedly the corpse of Diamond Tiara.
Alright, so it wasn’t a corpse. How was I supposed to know that?! I got a D in Biology last term! It was a reasonable assam shin! Assumptis? Whatever, you know what I mean. Point is, we all thought Diamond Tiara was dead. Now, we didn’t mean to kill her, but like heck I’m going to jail for her! So after a bit of arguing, we all agreed that the best thing to do would be to get rid of the body.
How you ask? Well…
“I still think this is a bad idea.”
Now this? This is what I meant when I called AB a square.
“It’s pretty simple,” I told her again, “we go grab some curtains or somethin’ from Sweetie’s place, since her sister’s in Manehatten, we go back to, uh, the alley, bundle up… you know, and throw it in the river! Boom, problem solved, no one will know, no prison for us. And, bonus, no more Diamond Tiara!”
“Scootaloo!” Urgh. Such a square.
“My leg hurts.” Aaaand there’s the dork. I swear, Sweetie just would not shut up about her burns. I mean, it wasn’t that bad—a couple of the patches still had skin!
“Whatever, we’re here! Unless you can think of a better plan before we’re done, let’s just do this alright? Sweetie Belle, the door?”
Apple Bloom groaned a little, but she didn’t say anything else as we followed Sweetie inside. She was still grumbling about her leg, but whatever. We’re pretty familiar with the place now, after all this time as friends, so we quickly made our way to the back where Rarity kept all her fabric. Unfortunately, she now triple locks that room—something about ‘inshurens premee ums’—so we had to wait a little while AB poked around with a lock pick. I looked at Sweetie.
“So uh, why’d your sister go to Manehatten?”
She kinda gave me the stinkeye, but she still answered begrudgingly: “Something about ‘a queue patient’s ill terror pee’. Dunno what it’s supposed to be, but she thought it’d help with… something.” Then she glared at her hooves and muttered: “Maybe I could use some for these burns…”
Now see, I’m a pretty patient gal. Ask anyone—I’m basically a Saint. But Sweetie would not shut up about her stupid burns. It was getting so annoying! And we were standing next to this table with a pill bottle, and well…
All the pills at my house are painkillers. So I figured that if she took one of those, she’d be fine! So I just kinda grabbed it, unscrewed the cap, and yelled “Burn this!”. Then I shoved the whole thing in her mouth.
Yeah, I know. Weak quip game. Sue me!
But yeah, I figured that’d help, you know? How the heck was I supposed to know what ‘ketamine’ was?
Anyway, Sweetie went real quiet after that. At the time I figured it was the painkillers kicking in, but in retrospect…
Urgh. We’ll get to that.
Apple Bloom finally got the locks open, and just took me for my word when I said I’d just given Sweetie some painkillers. Might have saved us a whole lotta trouble if she hadn’t, but whatever.
We got in. Now Rarity’s stash was pretty huge, but we had to be careful. Couldn’t take anything too fancy, ya know? So we took this maroon velvet stuff that looked kinda ugly, and eventually just pulled off some of the curtains too. They were green anyway, who the heck likes green? We did ask Sweetie what she thought, but she just kind of mumbled at us and stared at the floor. Yeah....
Anyway, with a bit of our hard-earned sewing skills (Cutie Mark Crusaders Costume Designers didn’t go so well. Still think banning us from the theater was overkill, but whatever) we stitched together Diamond’s impromptu body bag. Wasn’t exactly art, but it didn’t need to be—it was only DT after all. Mission complete, we headed straight back to the alley.
It really shouldn’t have been funny, but as we all just kinda stared at Diamond’s body I couldn’t help but snicker a bit. Of course, Captain Square just had to glare at me for that.
“Scootaloo!”
“What? Look at her!” A simple gesture was all it took—AB’s face contorted for a moment, before she let out this huge guffaw. Then of course she got all red and embarrassed, but hey—if you’d seen Diamond Tiara’s vaguely crispy form stuck headfirst into a big flower pot, you’d laugh too. Don’t you deny it! Anyway, after Apple Bloom recovered (and we got Sweetie Belle to stop staring at the wall and help, really should have paid more attention to her) we wrapped up Diamond pretty easily—she looked like what would happen if a crazy cat lady made a mummy at home. So not too far off I guess? Whatever. Point it, we’d got her wrapped up and ready to go, when we ran into the next problem.
“Girls,” I said slowly, “how do we get her through the marketplace? I mean, somepony’s gonna wonder what we’re doing, and then we’re busted.”
Apple Bloom, instead of having any useful feedback, just groaned. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
Sweetie Belle just gurgled a little.
I swear, these two sometimes. No respect.
“Alright, not to worry—I’ve got a plan!
This did not get the sighs of relief it so clearly deserved, but because I’m a good friend I ignored that and started dragging the Diamond-bag the other direction—deeper into the alley.
See, the alley we were in runs parallel (thanks Ms. Cheerilee’s math class!) to the river that runs through Ponyville, with the marketplace opening out onto a little dock that all the old stallions go fishing off of. Problem with that route was the currently running and very busy market. The other way, however, led to a residential area that didn’t open out onto the river for at least a mile—at least, it didn’t directly open out onto the river. And that is where my cunning plan came into play.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Come on, AB,” I wheedled (pride has its place, and that place is whenever you’re not trying to get a stubborn friend to do something). “We just gotta be quick and quiet, it’ll be easy!
She, like the square she is, just scowled. “We are not breaking into some random pony’s house!”
I threw up my hooves. “Well, do ya want to go to jail? Cos I don’t know about you, but I don’t have any other ideas!”
She didn’t have anything to say about that. Sweetie Belle might’ve, but she was kinda dribbling a little. Again, a bit of a warning sign in hindsight, but everyone knows that’s twenty twenty, and normal vision can be juuust terrible. I mean, mine’s fine but, you know.
...That metaphor got away from me. But, whatever.
We dragged the body-bag outta the alley on the other side (after checking to make sure no one could see us, of course) and book it straight for the nearest house on the river-facing side. Now, we don’t recognise it, but we can’t see anyone through the windows, pretty much the whole town is at the market, and quite frankly if we’re caught in the open breaking and entering will be the least of our worries. So, we head round the side, and sure enough—a kitchen door! Best of all, it’s got exactly what I was hoping for: a catflap.
“Alright—AB? You scout ahead.”
“Eh?”
“Through the catflap, you dolt! Make sure there’s no one who’ll catch us!”
“What!? Why me? Why not you, or Sweetie Belle?”
“I gotta keep watch! Everyone knows pegasi have the best vision.” Actually, I just hated how confined spaces felt on my feathers. It’s really weird. “And uh, I think the painkillers are hitting Sweetie kinda hard right now.”
We both turned to look at her—she was leaning against the wall of the house face first, and giggling softly into the brickwork. Man—I really dropped the ball there huh?
Eh. Whatever.
Anyway, AB starts to (reluctantly) crawl through the catflap and—well. She may have had an okaaay reason to not want to do it. Being an earth pony, she’s well, the largest of us. Aaaaaaand she got stuck. Right in the middle.
Yeaaaaaah. Not a good look.
Problem is, once she realises this she starts to panic see? I think it was the worry of being caught with a dead body or something. Or maybe she just doesn’t like being stuck. But she starts thrashing and jumping around, and well. Earth ponies are strong. Like, really—bah, what am I saying, you already know that! Heh, silly me. Point is, she broke the door. Specifically, the bottom half of the door snapped off and just kinda… followed her. Like a big square collar, only around her stomach.
That’s when I started to panic. A broken catflap is one thing, but nopony is gonna miss a broken door! So I hiss at Sweetie Belle to follow me, and charge in after AB, dragging the bag behind me. We get through the kitchen and the hallway into the living room—there’s a big glass door into the back garden, and I can see the river at the bottom, but AB’s stopped.
Now uh, this is another part of the story where I may have slightly messed up. Just a little. A teeeensy bit.
Thing is, I was pretty focused on the, you know, dead body in our possession. So I didn’t realise how badly this was affecting AB until, well. I think it’ll be pretty clear. Basically, whoever owned this place had a cat. And as she charged through the house in a panic, AB’s new wooden frame clipped said cat right in the head.
Turns out cat brains kinda look like cat food. Weird, huh?
I… didn’t really get why she was upset. I mean, it’s just a cat right? It’s kinda sad that it’s dead, but there are other cats, and we did just kill a pony. I guess she cares more about cats than Diamond Tiara?
...Is it bad that I kinda get that? Anyway:
I’m hissing at her to move, trying to shove her towards the door, when our luck once again proves that it’s decided to go on a three month vacation. There’s a slight creaking from the hallway, and that’s all the warning we get before a familiar mare opens the door and walks in.
“Mr. Mittens? Are you…”
We all freeze. I’m staring at the mare, AB and the mare are staring at the cat, and Sweetie Belle is staring at her nose.
“M-Mr. Mittens?”
It’s a low, horrified whisper, and normally I’d feel for her, I really would. But at that moment I was more worried about ourselves. Remember when I mentioned unreasonably angry carrot farmers earlier? Yeah. Carrot Top doesn’t have the best history with us. So I wasn’t exactly surprised when she immediately began screaming for the guard.
I was a bit more surprised when Sweetie Belle jumped her.
[h]
See, at that point, I’d sorta frozen. I mean, can you blame me? I was sure we were busted. But then Sweetie Belle just starts screaming, I mean a proper warcry, all primal rage and that. She charges Carrot Top, who’s gone all prey animal, and just straight up stabs her in the leg with her horn. She told me once that unicorn horns are pretty sensitive, so I thought that might hurt or something, but I’m pretty sure those screams were pure anger. Carrot Top’s screams, on the other hand, were mostly just pain and fear.
“Get off her, Sweetie!”
“Calm down!”
After a couple of yanks, we managed to get her off. Carrot Top had stopped screaming at this point and transitioned to whimpers and then just sorta opening and closing her mouth with wide eyes, like some weird fish. I was pretty concerned by this, not gonna lie, so I let AB handle Sweetie Belle. In retrospect, maybe a mistake—I dunno if she was really in a state to handle that, you know? But, whatever—what were we talking about? Oh yeah, Carrot Top.
She was sort of shivering a bit, and she’d gone all foetal too. Didn’t really know what to do, and we still had a dead body to get rid of, so I just gave her the first bit of advice that came into my head:
“Uh, maybe try to terror pee a bit? Seems to work for Rarity, so uh… yeah. Bye!”
And then we heckin’ legged it. But there was one more trial ahead of us. We were halfway down the garden path, when all of a sudden, a shadow passed overhead. We stopped, looked up—and the awesomest mare in Ponyville landed in front of us.
Heh, sorry. Was tryna make the story more dramatic, ya know? But yeah, Rainbow Dash saw us and came down to say hi. She’s pretty cool—I had this phase where I thought she was the coolest, but I’m over that now—but she’s kinda… weird around me?
“Heeeeeeeey Scoots! How’s my number one fan doing!”
“Uhhhhh,” I shuffled the bag behind me a little so it wouldn’t be so obvious, “Good! Yeah, we’re good. I’m good. And so are they.”
I dunno. She’s not creepy, just… a little awkward I guess.
“Sooooo whatcha up to? Anything exciting? Crusading for cutie marks, playing some tag?”
“Eheh, no no, not today. Just… chillin’.”
“Oh! Oh, that’s uh, cool. Yeah, cool.”
Yeah. I don’t get it either.
“Well uh, I’d better get back to work! Just, uh, remember you can talk to me about anything Scoots, yeah? I’m, uh, always here for ya.”
I swear I nearly pooped myself when she said that. I thought she was on to us for sure! But nope.
“Even, uh boys. Or girls, haha! I don’t judge.”
I just sorta blinked at her. I was just so relieved she hadn’t caught on, you know? She did this weird shuffle, then coughed.
“Alright! Going now. Back to work. Up there. Since that’s where work is. Bye!”
Then she just flies off, muttering something about ‘sisterly bonding’. Didn’t know she had a sister, but whatever. Weird mare.
So, the final hurdle passed, we make it to the bottom of the garden. Apple Bloom still seems sort of… far away inside, which is mildly concerning, and Sweetie Belle’s grin wouldn’t look outta place in a horror movie and she’s got blood on her horn, but we’ve made it.
...How the hell did Rainbow not clock us? Well, whatever. I get Sweetie to grab one end of the bag since AB looks so out of it, and we walk right up to the riverbank to throw it in.
That, of course, was when Diamond Tiara woke up.
I guess the ketamine made Sweetie’s balance a bit wonky, because as soon as Diamond started thrashing she tipped forward and went straight into the drink. Diamond is… yelling, I think it was? Was hard to tell through the curtain, but she somehow gets her legs free through some of the seams and goes tearing back away from us, before running headfirst into a lawn flamingo. Carrot Top seems to like those things, her garden’s practically lousy with ‘em! Anyway, she’s out of the picture for now, and also apparently not dead which is a relief I guess, but I’m more worried about Sweetie Belle. The river’s pretty fast flowing here, she’s already being swept downstream, and in her current state I think she’s more likely to start stabbing the riverbed than trying to swim.
Thankfully, I’ve got a ready made boat there with me.
“I shouldn’t have left my house today.”
To be honest, I can barely hear Apple Bloom’s moans over the river—it’s actually kinda impressive she was loud enough to hear. But I’m a little more focused on steering our impromptu raft towards Sweetie Belle, who appears to be laughing at something as she tumbles downstream. She’s definitely not putting enough effort into swimming, or breathing in general, so I start paddling faster at the sides of the door.
“Come on AB, start kicking!”
In retrospect I really should have been more concerned at how dead the look she gave me was.
“This is all just a bad dream.”
Still, I’m pretty sure she started kicking. It was kinda hard to tell though—the boat hid her bottom half from view pretty effectively, which made sense, given she was still stuck halfway through it.
I mean, it’s not like Carrot Top was going to use it anytime soon, right? Nothing wrong with taking the door.
Anyway, it takes a couple of tries, but eventually I’m able to fish Sweetie out of the water. She’s hanging all limp, which would have worried me, but she’s giggling non-stop too, which honestly worried me in a totally different way but whatever. Problem solved! So we paddle to bank and I push her off, and then drag our boat plus Apple Bloom out onto the shore.
We just sorta lay there for a while. AB was muttering to herself, Sweetie Belle was throwing up enough water to fill an aquarium, and I was just trying to catch my breath!
Course, the story doesn’t end there. If it did, I wouldn’t be here talking to you, now would I?
Now for the next part, our luck actually did change a little, because of all the people to find us, it was the absolute best—Ms. Cheerilee.
She’s just the greatest. Seriously! I worried our teacher might not be cool, you know? Might be a narc. But she’s totally got our backs. Whenever we need to get stuff from the teachers lounge for our pranks in school, she’s always drinking outta that flask she keeps in her desk, and then when people ask later she says she was marking tests! And she’s always talking to the principal about getting us ‘drummed out’ when she thinks the students can’t hear. I dunno about you, but having someone play the drums for us when we leave school sounds pretty awesome to me.
What a legend.
Anyway, she comes up and says:
“What have you done this time!”
Time to play along.
“Who, us? Nothing Ms. Cheerilee! Just went for a swim.”
Normally AB and Sweetie would back me up here but… yeah.
“Why is Apple Bloom stuck in a catflap?”
“We, uh, were trying to get our Cutie Marks in cat herding. Didn’t work out.”
She places a hoof to her face, obviously carefully considering our excuse.
“Why does that make sense.”
Heheh. Cheerilee approved—a foolproof plan! Now, time for an exit. Knowing her, she’ll be the absolute sis she is and cover us.
“Allllrighty Ms. Cheerilee, it’s been great catching up, but we should be going!”
She frowned, which was a bit weird, but it all made sense a second later.
“Hang on, I need to ask you about Dia—”
YOU.
I don’t know how she did it, but Ms. Cheerilee somehow achieved something we’ve never been able to do—predicted the supreme wrath of Applejack. And given the smear of what looked suspiciously like cat brains on her hoof as she came bellowing round the corner like some angry god, I wasn’t exactly keen on seeing its terrifying power up close and personal today.
Honestly, I’d have taken the jail time any day of the week.
“RUN!”
We scarpered. I spared a thought and a prayer for Ms. Cheerilee, who only had time to say something about ‘overtime pay’ before being bowled over by a force of nature in a cowboy hat, but I knew she’d have our backs, as she always did. Heh. Rainbow Dash wishes she was that cool.
Anyway, we’re running, Applejack is roaring, and I’m just trying to think of how to get out of here alive when Sweetie Belle turns to me, slasher grin still firmly on her face, and says:
“I’m gonna stab the mayor.”
And well, you know. I was a bit, uh, concerned by that.
“Sweetie Belle, what the fuck.”
She gave out this really, honestly demented laugh—it’s what made me actually ask your daughter what the heck ketamine is later—and said:
“If I stab her, and kill her,” I swear her grin grew wider, somehow, “then I win. I’ll be the mayor. And then I can have all the milkshakes I ever want.”
That’s when she ran off, vaguely in the direction of the mayor’s office. Still not sure what’s happened there. We might need a new mayor. But, whatever.
Anyway, I’m still tryna process this, ya know? And then Apple Bloom just starts sobbing. Like, properly hysterical sobs, whole body shaking, the works.
“Apple Bloom?!”
“MR. MITTENS WHY!?”
She veers left, speeds up, and hurls herself straight back into the river. Something about the way she lands sends the door-raft spinning, and she’s just wailing and flailing her hooves about everywhere. With only her upper half sticking out she looked kinda like one of those wacky inflatable tube minotaurs. It was weirdly mesmerising.
So at this point, I’m now alone, being chased by what may as well be Nightmare Moon herself, and getting out of breath.
So I turned to the one pony I knew might, just might, be able to save me. The only pink-ish mare that could wield such fearsome power.
Well, I say one time, we’ve been clobbered plenty—trees, pets, carrot farmers, fences, unfortunate teachers, hedges, buildings (destructible and non), each other, unreasonably angry carrot farmers; you name it, we’ve either run into it, over it, or through it. But, uh, this time was particularly bad. And less of a physical clobbering, you know? More just, well. Life. Just, beating us round the head a lot. Metaphorically. And physically too, I guess.
It also happened about eight minutes ago, so I might need to book it soon.
See we were all chillin’ (cos that’s a thing we do, we’re cool ponies and we chill) in the square trying to think of something to do. Normally we’d be trying to “pick up a new hobby or skill” (Sweetie says that’s how we should say it cos it might make ponies less angry with us; I dunno about that but whatever) but AB’s sis threw us out of our super-secret-clubhouse and then off her farm after her granny broke her jaw in an incident that definitely wasn’t anything to do with us—
Eh? Oh right, yeah. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom. They’re my best friends. Don’t tell them I said that, they’ll get all sappy and gross, ugh.
Sweetie Belle’s kinda a dork—she’s always shrieking about her mane or her fur or her teeth or something, and she gets all weird about things like mud and bugs. But she’s dead clever and that one time she broke Silver Spoon’s nose so she’s cool. Her sister’s a total buzzkill though; going on and on about ‘rare fabrics’ and ‘damage inshurens’ and ‘terror pee bills’. Not sure what pee has to do with ducks but whatever.
Applebloom’s kinda a square—she’s always going on about being ‘careful’ and ‘not hitting Silver Spoon in her stupid fat face’ and ‘responsibility’. But she’s good in a scrap once you drag her into it, and she’s great at getting us outta some of the, er, tighter corners we’ve been in, so she’s cool. Her sister’s terrifying. Oh sure, everyone always says that Applejack’s so ‘polite’ and ‘honest’ and ‘hard-working’, but they’ve never been chased by her after they accidentally flooded her room. That mare is a demon.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, right.
Chillin’.
See we’re not allowed on school grounds outside of school hours anymore ever since Featherweight got that retraining order—er, restaurant order? Summin’ like that—so that was a no go, and with the club house out we couldn’t really go to our usual hangouts. So there we were. AB was just kinda kickin’ her hooves at the dirt, Sweetie was counting the ants cos’ she’s kinda weird like that, and I was bored. Outta. My. Mind.
“Let’s do something.”
The other two turned to me, all chill like, cos’ we were, as previously mentioned, chillin’.
“Wha’d’ya mean ‘do something’, Scoots?” Apple Bloom didn’t seem too invested, she just did that one-eyebrow-raised thing she does that makes her look like her sister (AKA terrifying) and kept kicking her hooves. Sweetie didn’t answer, she just sort of swivelled her head around all owl-like to blink at me.
She’s… really kind of weird sometimes. Anyway:
“I dunno. Play a game? Push Featherweight in the creek again? Beat up Diamond Tiara?” I paused, considering. “Actually, that last one sounds pretty fun right now.”
Sweetie frowned. It made her look a bit like a very large, multicoloured moth. “Rarity said we shouldn’t do that anymore. She said it was a ‘delicut poe litter cull sit you asian’.”
Yeah no, I dunno what that’s supposed to be either. AB apparently did though, cos’ she just snorted and said, “Yeah, cos’ her dad’s Filthy Rich. Literally.” She stretched a little, then bounced to her hooves and gave the two of us a grin.
I knew that grin. That grin meant the fun kind of trouble.
“But just cos’ we can’t beat her up, doesn’t mean we can’t do a harmless little prank... Right girls?”
Heh. She may be a stick in the mud most of the time, but sometimes?
AB has the best ideas.
The room was… well, not dead silent. But almost.
See, I’m a tough filly. I can take my knocks, and I can heckin’ well dish ‘em out too. And this girl we’re talking to, she’s not exactly tough, you know? Small, pretty scrawny, could probably lay her out with one hoof. But despite all that, she scares me.
It’s the eyes I think. Last time I saw eyes like that, they were on a changeling at that Royal Wedding disaster. All cold and distant. Like you’re food.
So we sat there, the four of us, and the room was dead quiet. The only thing that interrupted it was her mother’s snoring.
“So,” said Ruby Pinch quietly, leaning back in her chair. Behind her, Berry kind of snuffled, then did a half-turn-half-flop-on-her-front and resumed snoring. Ruby ignored her. “You want some wine.”
“Y-yeah,” AB sorta stuttered a bit, but she rallied pretty well. There’s a reason she’s kind of the leader (DON’T tell her I said that). “Not to drink or anything! That’d be immoral. Just gonna prank Diamond Tiara. It’ll stain, see?”
Ruby‘s about half AB’s size, but I swear she somehow made a raised eyebrow feel like a prison shank at the back of the neck. If there’s one pony I want to piss off less than Applejack, it’s her.
“And if this is traced back to me? I can hardly be expected to take the fall for your… endeavour.” She didn’t do anything else either, just looked at us.
Buuuuut this is getting boring, and honestly I don’t really wanna think about it too much, gives me the creeps. Long story short, AB did some quick talking, we all promised to say the wine came from one of Pinkie’s secret stashes or something on pain of hopefully-not-actual death, and then we got the heck outta dodge.
Urgh. Those eyes. I’m tellin’ ya lady, that is one scary—anyway. We had the wine, now we just needed to find Diamond. As it turned out—not too hard!
“Alright, target’s in position.”
I think it was supposed to be a harsh whisper, like those spies in movies and stuff, but honestly Sweetie just sounded kinda constipated. But, whatever—it got the job done.
See, we were all squeezed behind this crate in a small alley off of the main market square—one of those places people store fish in, or hire a hooker, whatever that is. Babs never really explained… whatever. Point is, we’re all sitting in this alley, waiting patiently for juuuust the right moment. Turns out Diamond Tiara was in the market, BUYING stuff.
What a loser.
Now, Sweetie’s on lookout over the crate—her mane blended in with the fish best—and the moment she gives the OK? That’s when I break out the magic, heheh.
Well okay, not literally, but hey! Bet you didn’t know ol’ Scoots was a dab hoof at ventriloquism! Pitch my voice up a little, throw it over there, and all of a sudden Silver Spoon’s asking her to come see the cool thing she found. Now I gotta admit, Diamond Tiara’s not a total idiot—she seemed at least a little suspicious. Didn’t stop her from coming down the alley though, and the moment she was out of view—sploosh! Apple Bloom was just waiting in the wings with the barrel of wine we got from Pinch, and her aim’s pretty dang good. And then....
See, this is where the story should have ended. We prank the rich nag, point and laugh, then go home job done, ya know?
Except. Ol’ Pinchy made a mistake—well, one of her mooks did. Hoo boy, don’t think I’ve ever seen her as pissed as when she told me that. So to our surprise, instead of being stained a lovely red, Diamond’s coat is as transparent as the liquid we threw on her—not that we have much time to think about it, cos’ the moment the liquid splashes into her face she shrieks.
Turns out straight ethanol kinda stings.
Again—this is where the story should end. But our luck’s never been the best, and I’m pretty sure it picked today to take a break. See, as Diamond’s yelling and complaining, she stumbles back into this stack of boxes. The whole thing collapses on top of her, and the metal crowbar someone left on top of it falls to the ground, sparking slightly off the cobblestone.
That’s when Diamond Tiara caught fire. Well, I say she caught fire—the whole pile of boxes did too. Turns out fish is kinda flammable, who knew? Anyway, Diamond is now yelling even louder, although I can’t really blame her, and me and the girls are panicking. Just a little, mind. We may not like the stuck-up little hussy, but we didn’t want to set her on fire! That’s, like, at least a week's worth of grounding. Nobody wants that.
“Oh sweet horseapples!” Apple Bloom shouted, and then just kinda flailed at her—I think she was going for stamping out the fire, but didn’t want to touch her and get burned? I dunno. Then she tried just sorta flinging dirt at her from her hooves, but that didn’t really do much either. Sweetie Belle was just staring (it was kinda creepy to be honest, all blank and wide-eyed) but me?
Well.
In my defence, I was panicking. And my first thought was that we had to throw something big on her, to smother the fire ya know? And well, Sweetie had been sitting on my shoulders for a while now to see over the crate and she’s kinda big and heavy, and…
Yeah. I threw Sweetie at her. And, to be fair to me, it worked! No more fire. At least on DT, but the boxes were just kinda smouldering. Smelt awful, but no danger there. Anyway, problem solved! Sweetie Belle was not happy with me though, and boy did she let me know. I was trying to tune out all her moaning about ‘burns’ and ‘missing teeth’ when Apple Bloom said the phrase that doomed us.
“Uh, girls? She’s not moving.”
The two of us froze, and slowly turned to look at AB slowly poking at what was undoubtedly the corpse of Diamond Tiara.
Alright, so it wasn’t a corpse. How was I supposed to know that?! I got a D in Biology last term! It was a reasonable assam shin! Assumptis? Whatever, you know what I mean. Point is, we all thought Diamond Tiara was dead. Now, we didn’t mean to kill her, but like heck I’m going to jail for her! So after a bit of arguing, we all agreed that the best thing to do would be to get rid of the body.
How you ask? Well…
“I still think this is a bad idea.”
Now this? This is what I meant when I called AB a square.
“It’s pretty simple,” I told her again, “we go grab some curtains or somethin’ from Sweetie’s place, since her sister’s in Manehatten, we go back to, uh, the alley, bundle up… you know, and throw it in the river! Boom, problem solved, no one will know, no prison for us. And, bonus, no more Diamond Tiara!”
“Scootaloo!” Urgh. Such a square.
“My leg hurts.” Aaaand there’s the dork. I swear, Sweetie just would not shut up about her burns. I mean, it wasn’t that bad—a couple of the patches still had skin!
“Whatever, we’re here! Unless you can think of a better plan before we’re done, let’s just do this alright? Sweetie Belle, the door?”
Apple Bloom groaned a little, but she didn’t say anything else as we followed Sweetie inside. She was still grumbling about her leg, but whatever. We’re pretty familiar with the place now, after all this time as friends, so we quickly made our way to the back where Rarity kept all her fabric. Unfortunately, she now triple locks that room—something about ‘inshurens premee ums’—so we had to wait a little while AB poked around with a lock pick. I looked at Sweetie.
“So uh, why’d your sister go to Manehatten?”
She kinda gave me the stinkeye, but she still answered begrudgingly: “Something about ‘a queue patient’s ill terror pee’. Dunno what it’s supposed to be, but she thought it’d help with… something.” Then she glared at her hooves and muttered: “Maybe I could use some for these burns…”
Now see, I’m a pretty patient gal. Ask anyone—I’m basically a Saint. But Sweetie would not shut up about her stupid burns. It was getting so annoying! And we were standing next to this table with a pill bottle, and well…
All the pills at my house are painkillers. So I figured that if she took one of those, she’d be fine! So I just kinda grabbed it, unscrewed the cap, and yelled “Burn this!”. Then I shoved the whole thing in her mouth.
Yeah, I know. Weak quip game. Sue me!
But yeah, I figured that’d help, you know? How the heck was I supposed to know what ‘ketamine’ was?
Anyway, Sweetie went real quiet after that. At the time I figured it was the painkillers kicking in, but in retrospect…
Urgh. We’ll get to that.
Apple Bloom finally got the locks open, and just took me for my word when I said I’d just given Sweetie some painkillers. Might have saved us a whole lotta trouble if she hadn’t, but whatever.
We got in. Now Rarity’s stash was pretty huge, but we had to be careful. Couldn’t take anything too fancy, ya know? So we took this maroon velvet stuff that looked kinda ugly, and eventually just pulled off some of the curtains too. They were green anyway, who the heck likes green? We did ask Sweetie what she thought, but she just kind of mumbled at us and stared at the floor. Yeah....
Anyway, with a bit of our hard-earned sewing skills (Cutie Mark Crusaders Costume Designers didn’t go so well. Still think banning us from the theater was overkill, but whatever) we stitched together Diamond’s impromptu body bag. Wasn’t exactly art, but it didn’t need to be—it was only DT after all. Mission complete, we headed straight back to the alley.
It really shouldn’t have been funny, but as we all just kinda stared at Diamond’s body I couldn’t help but snicker a bit. Of course, Captain Square just had to glare at me for that.
“Scootaloo!”
“What? Look at her!” A simple gesture was all it took—AB’s face contorted for a moment, before she let out this huge guffaw. Then of course she got all red and embarrassed, but hey—if you’d seen Diamond Tiara’s vaguely crispy form stuck headfirst into a big flower pot, you’d laugh too. Don’t you deny it! Anyway, after Apple Bloom recovered (and we got Sweetie Belle to stop staring at the wall and help, really should have paid more attention to her) we wrapped up Diamond pretty easily—she looked like what would happen if a crazy cat lady made a mummy at home. So not too far off I guess? Whatever. Point it, we’d got her wrapped up and ready to go, when we ran into the next problem.
“Girls,” I said slowly, “how do we get her through the marketplace? I mean, somepony’s gonna wonder what we’re doing, and then we’re busted.”
Apple Bloom, instead of having any useful feedback, just groaned. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
Sweetie Belle just gurgled a little.
I swear, these two sometimes. No respect.
“Alright, not to worry—I’ve got a plan!
This did not get the sighs of relief it so clearly deserved, but because I’m a good friend I ignored that and started dragging the Diamond-bag the other direction—deeper into the alley.
See, the alley we were in runs parallel (thanks Ms. Cheerilee’s math class!) to the river that runs through Ponyville, with the marketplace opening out onto a little dock that all the old stallions go fishing off of. Problem with that route was the currently running and very busy market. The other way, however, led to a residential area that didn’t open out onto the river for at least a mile—at least, it didn’t directly open out onto the river. And that is where my cunning plan came into play.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Come on, AB,” I wheedled (pride has its place, and that place is whenever you’re not trying to get a stubborn friend to do something). “We just gotta be quick and quiet, it’ll be easy!
She, like the square she is, just scowled. “We are not breaking into some random pony’s house!”
I threw up my hooves. “Well, do ya want to go to jail? Cos I don’t know about you, but I don’t have any other ideas!”
She didn’t have anything to say about that. Sweetie Belle might’ve, but she was kinda dribbling a little. Again, a bit of a warning sign in hindsight, but everyone knows that’s twenty twenty, and normal vision can be juuust terrible. I mean, mine’s fine but, you know.
...That metaphor got away from me. But, whatever.
We dragged the body-bag outta the alley on the other side (after checking to make sure no one could see us, of course) and book it straight for the nearest house on the river-facing side. Now, we don’t recognise it, but we can’t see anyone through the windows, pretty much the whole town is at the market, and quite frankly if we’re caught in the open breaking and entering will be the least of our worries. So, we head round the side, and sure enough—a kitchen door! Best of all, it’s got exactly what I was hoping for: a catflap.
“Alright—AB? You scout ahead.”
“Eh?”
“Through the catflap, you dolt! Make sure there’s no one who’ll catch us!”
“What!? Why me? Why not you, or Sweetie Belle?”
“I gotta keep watch! Everyone knows pegasi have the best vision.” Actually, I just hated how confined spaces felt on my feathers. It’s really weird. “And uh, I think the painkillers are hitting Sweetie kinda hard right now.”
We both turned to look at her—she was leaning against the wall of the house face first, and giggling softly into the brickwork. Man—I really dropped the ball there huh?
Eh. Whatever.
Anyway, AB starts to (reluctantly) crawl through the catflap and—well. She may have had an okaaay reason to not want to do it. Being an earth pony, she’s well, the largest of us. Aaaaaaand she got stuck. Right in the middle.
Yeaaaaaah. Not a good look.
Problem is, once she realises this she starts to panic see? I think it was the worry of being caught with a dead body or something. Or maybe she just doesn’t like being stuck. But she starts thrashing and jumping around, and well. Earth ponies are strong. Like, really—bah, what am I saying, you already know that! Heh, silly me. Point is, she broke the door. Specifically, the bottom half of the door snapped off and just kinda… followed her. Like a big square collar, only around her stomach.
That’s when I started to panic. A broken catflap is one thing, but nopony is gonna miss a broken door! So I hiss at Sweetie Belle to follow me, and charge in after AB, dragging the bag behind me. We get through the kitchen and the hallway into the living room—there’s a big glass door into the back garden, and I can see the river at the bottom, but AB’s stopped.
Now uh, this is another part of the story where I may have slightly messed up. Just a little. A teeeensy bit.
Thing is, I was pretty focused on the, you know, dead body in our possession. So I didn’t realise how badly this was affecting AB until, well. I think it’ll be pretty clear. Basically, whoever owned this place had a cat. And as she charged through the house in a panic, AB’s new wooden frame clipped said cat right in the head.
Turns out cat brains kinda look like cat food. Weird, huh?
I… didn’t really get why she was upset. I mean, it’s just a cat right? It’s kinda sad that it’s dead, but there are other cats, and we did just kill a pony. I guess she cares more about cats than Diamond Tiara?
...Is it bad that I kinda get that? Anyway:
I’m hissing at her to move, trying to shove her towards the door, when our luck once again proves that it’s decided to go on a three month vacation. There’s a slight creaking from the hallway, and that’s all the warning we get before a familiar mare opens the door and walks in.
“Mr. Mittens? Are you…”
We all freeze. I’m staring at the mare, AB and the mare are staring at the cat, and Sweetie Belle is staring at her nose.
“M-Mr. Mittens?”
It’s a low, horrified whisper, and normally I’d feel for her, I really would. But at that moment I was more worried about ourselves. Remember when I mentioned unreasonably angry carrot farmers earlier? Yeah. Carrot Top doesn’t have the best history with us. So I wasn’t exactly surprised when she immediately began screaming for the guard.
I was a bit more surprised when Sweetie Belle jumped her.
[h]
See, at that point, I’d sorta frozen. I mean, can you blame me? I was sure we were busted. But then Sweetie Belle just starts screaming, I mean a proper warcry, all primal rage and that. She charges Carrot Top, who’s gone all prey animal, and just straight up stabs her in the leg with her horn. She told me once that unicorn horns are pretty sensitive, so I thought that might hurt or something, but I’m pretty sure those screams were pure anger. Carrot Top’s screams, on the other hand, were mostly just pain and fear.
“Get off her, Sweetie!”
“Calm down!”
After a couple of yanks, we managed to get her off. Carrot Top had stopped screaming at this point and transitioned to whimpers and then just sorta opening and closing her mouth with wide eyes, like some weird fish. I was pretty concerned by this, not gonna lie, so I let AB handle Sweetie Belle. In retrospect, maybe a mistake—I dunno if she was really in a state to handle that, you know? But, whatever—what were we talking about? Oh yeah, Carrot Top.
She was sort of shivering a bit, and she’d gone all foetal too. Didn’t really know what to do, and we still had a dead body to get rid of, so I just gave her the first bit of advice that came into my head:
“Uh, maybe try to terror pee a bit? Seems to work for Rarity, so uh… yeah. Bye!”
And then we heckin’ legged it. But there was one more trial ahead of us. We were halfway down the garden path, when all of a sudden, a shadow passed overhead. We stopped, looked up—and the awesomest mare in Ponyville landed in front of us.
Heh, sorry. Was tryna make the story more dramatic, ya know? But yeah, Rainbow Dash saw us and came down to say hi. She’s pretty cool—I had this phase where I thought she was the coolest, but I’m over that now—but she’s kinda… weird around me?
“Heeeeeeeey Scoots! How’s my number one fan doing!”
“Uhhhhh,” I shuffled the bag behind me a little so it wouldn’t be so obvious, “Good! Yeah, we’re good. I’m good. And so are they.”
I dunno. She’s not creepy, just… a little awkward I guess.
“Sooooo whatcha up to? Anything exciting? Crusading for cutie marks, playing some tag?”
“Eheh, no no, not today. Just… chillin’.”
“Oh! Oh, that’s uh, cool. Yeah, cool.”
Yeah. I don’t get it either.
“Well uh, I’d better get back to work! Just, uh, remember you can talk to me about anything Scoots, yeah? I’m, uh, always here for ya.”
I swear I nearly pooped myself when she said that. I thought she was on to us for sure! But nope.
“Even, uh boys. Or girls, haha! I don’t judge.”
I just sorta blinked at her. I was just so relieved she hadn’t caught on, you know? She did this weird shuffle, then coughed.
“Alright! Going now. Back to work. Up there. Since that’s where work is. Bye!”
Then she just flies off, muttering something about ‘sisterly bonding’. Didn’t know she had a sister, but whatever. Weird mare.
So, the final hurdle passed, we make it to the bottom of the garden. Apple Bloom still seems sort of… far away inside, which is mildly concerning, and Sweetie Belle’s grin wouldn’t look outta place in a horror movie and she’s got blood on her horn, but we’ve made it.
...How the hell did Rainbow not clock us? Well, whatever. I get Sweetie to grab one end of the bag since AB looks so out of it, and we walk right up to the riverbank to throw it in.
That, of course, was when Diamond Tiara woke up.
I guess the ketamine made Sweetie’s balance a bit wonky, because as soon as Diamond started thrashing she tipped forward and went straight into the drink. Diamond is… yelling, I think it was? Was hard to tell through the curtain, but she somehow gets her legs free through some of the seams and goes tearing back away from us, before running headfirst into a lawn flamingo. Carrot Top seems to like those things, her garden’s practically lousy with ‘em! Anyway, she’s out of the picture for now, and also apparently not dead which is a relief I guess, but I’m more worried about Sweetie Belle. The river’s pretty fast flowing here, she’s already being swept downstream, and in her current state I think she’s more likely to start stabbing the riverbed than trying to swim.
Thankfully, I’ve got a ready made boat there with me.
“I shouldn’t have left my house today.”
To be honest, I can barely hear Apple Bloom’s moans over the river—it’s actually kinda impressive she was loud enough to hear. But I’m a little more focused on steering our impromptu raft towards Sweetie Belle, who appears to be laughing at something as she tumbles downstream. She’s definitely not putting enough effort into swimming, or breathing in general, so I start paddling faster at the sides of the door.
“Come on AB, start kicking!”
In retrospect I really should have been more concerned at how dead the look she gave me was.
“This is all just a bad dream.”
Still, I’m pretty sure she started kicking. It was kinda hard to tell though—the boat hid her bottom half from view pretty effectively, which made sense, given she was still stuck halfway through it.
I mean, it’s not like Carrot Top was going to use it anytime soon, right? Nothing wrong with taking the door.
Anyway, it takes a couple of tries, but eventually I’m able to fish Sweetie out of the water. She’s hanging all limp, which would have worried me, but she’s giggling non-stop too, which honestly worried me in a totally different way but whatever. Problem solved! So we paddle to bank and I push her off, and then drag our boat plus Apple Bloom out onto the shore.
We just sorta lay there for a while. AB was muttering to herself, Sweetie Belle was throwing up enough water to fill an aquarium, and I was just trying to catch my breath!
Course, the story doesn’t end there. If it did, I wouldn’t be here talking to you, now would I?
Now for the next part, our luck actually did change a little, because of all the people to find us, it was the absolute best—Ms. Cheerilee.
She’s just the greatest. Seriously! I worried our teacher might not be cool, you know? Might be a narc. But she’s totally got our backs. Whenever we need to get stuff from the teachers lounge for our pranks in school, she’s always drinking outta that flask she keeps in her desk, and then when people ask later she says she was marking tests! And she’s always talking to the principal about getting us ‘drummed out’ when she thinks the students can’t hear. I dunno about you, but having someone play the drums for us when we leave school sounds pretty awesome to me.
What a legend.
Anyway, she comes up and says:
“What have you done this time!”
Time to play along.
“Who, us? Nothing Ms. Cheerilee! Just went for a swim.”
Normally AB and Sweetie would back me up here but… yeah.
“Why is Apple Bloom stuck in a catflap?”
“We, uh, were trying to get our Cutie Marks in cat herding. Didn’t work out.”
She places a hoof to her face, obviously carefully considering our excuse.
“Why does that make sense.”
Heheh. Cheerilee approved—a foolproof plan! Now, time for an exit. Knowing her, she’ll be the absolute sis she is and cover us.
“Allllrighty Ms. Cheerilee, it’s been great catching up, but we should be going!”
She frowned, which was a bit weird, but it all made sense a second later.
“Hang on, I need to ask you about Dia—”
YOU.
I don’t know how she did it, but Ms. Cheerilee somehow achieved something we’ve never been able to do—predicted the supreme wrath of Applejack. And given the smear of what looked suspiciously like cat brains on her hoof as she came bellowing round the corner like some angry god, I wasn’t exactly keen on seeing its terrifying power up close and personal today.
Honestly, I’d have taken the jail time any day of the week.
“RUN!”
We scarpered. I spared a thought and a prayer for Ms. Cheerilee, who only had time to say something about ‘overtime pay’ before being bowled over by a force of nature in a cowboy hat, but I knew she’d have our backs, as she always did. Heh. Rainbow Dash wishes she was that cool.
Anyway, we’re running, Applejack is roaring, and I’m just trying to think of how to get out of here alive when Sweetie Belle turns to me, slasher grin still firmly on her face, and says:
“I’m gonna stab the mayor.”
And well, you know. I was a bit, uh, concerned by that.
“Sweetie Belle, what the fuck.”
She gave out this really, honestly demented laugh—it’s what made me actually ask your daughter what the heck ketamine is later—and said:
“If I stab her, and kill her,” I swear her grin grew wider, somehow, “then I win. I’ll be the mayor. And then I can have all the milkshakes I ever want.”
That’s when she ran off, vaguely in the direction of the mayor’s office. Still not sure what’s happened there. We might need a new mayor. But, whatever.
Anyway, I’m still tryna process this, ya know? And then Apple Bloom just starts sobbing. Like, properly hysterical sobs, whole body shaking, the works.
“Apple Bloom?!”
“MR. MITTENS WHY!?”
She veers left, speeds up, and hurls herself straight back into the river. Something about the way she lands sends the door-raft spinning, and she’s just wailing and flailing her hooves about everywhere. With only her upper half sticking out she looked kinda like one of those wacky inflatable tube minotaurs. It was weirdly mesmerising.
So at this point, I’m now alone, being chased by what may as well be Nightmare Moon herself, and getting out of breath.
So I turned to the one pony I knew might, just might, be able to save me. The only pink-ish mare that could wield such fearsome power.
Scootaloo licked her dry lips, leaning her head back against her forehooves as her hindlegs kicked up to rest on the table.
“And that,” she said to the snoring mare next to her, “is why I’m in your house Ms. Punch.” She shifted slightly, getting comfortable. “And why I owe your daughter a kidney.”
She frowned, glancing up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Not sure why she wants one bean so bad but, well,” she shrugs and closes her eyes.
“Whatever.”
“And that,” she said to the snoring mare next to her, “is why I’m in your house Ms. Punch.” She shifted slightly, getting comfortable. “And why I owe your daughter a kidney.”
She frowned, glancing up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Not sure why she wants one bean so bad but, well,” she shrugs and closes her eyes.
“Whatever.”
fin
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I'm not sure how many times this story crosses the line, but it came out to an odd number. This just feels off. The Crusaders directly antagonizing Diamond Tiara without provocation, Scootaloo's diction, the overall events as they unfurled, Rainbow Dash's entire deal, Scootaloo not getting who Dash meant with the sister comment...
I'd say it's Uncanny Valley characterization in terms of how everything feels subtly wrong, but there's nothing subtle about this story. I just don't think I'm the right audience for it. Also not sure how it fits the prompt. Is it so off it's ot?
I'd say it's Uncanny Valley characterization in terms of how everything feels subtly wrong, but there's nothing subtle about this story. I just don't think I'm the right audience for it. Also not sure how it fits the prompt. Is it so off it's ot?
So! I can only assume this story was written specifically for me, what with the Carrot Top cameo and all. Best pony is still best, even when she's getting stabbed by cat-murdering unicorn fillies.
But as for the rest of the story... well, it's got some great bits. There are laugh-out-loud moments here, and I'm generally inclined to judge a comedy by its highs rather than its lows. But everything here feels tonally disjointed. From language (Scootaloo apparently has the voice of a dapper englishmare, except when she's dropping f-bombs) to setting (if you're going to make a joke about how nobody at the market notices a bunch of screaming and an alcohol fire ten feet away from them, best not to undermine it by making the impassibility of the market a plot point right afterwards) to level of psychopathy (which vacillates from "kids are dumb" to "these are actual literal psychopaths")... I'm just wishing this story would pick a lane and ride it. Right now, it feels like you've got a brutal dark comedy in mind, but you're continually undermining it to try to make it feel more FiM-ish. And the effect is neither rather than both. If you want to go full dark, go full dark. Make no apologies, punch me in the face from the word go, let me know "this is a completely brutal story that uses a few canon personalities to poke fun at an edgefest," and dare me not to go along with it!
Or, if you worry that too many readers can't/won't take you up on that dare, go the other way and give this the full R-to-PG-13 conversion treatment--no swearing, no actual death or permanent disfigurement, more emphasis on matching up the character dialogue and tone (though not story events, obs) with canon. Either way could work! But definitely take this one direction or the other, because right now you're pulling back just enough to make your darkest moments and most out-of-character actions and dialogue feel like tonal mistakes instead of like a concerted effort by the entire fic to push the envelope.
There's a fair bit of work to be done on this one, I think--but you've already got some brutally funny bits, and if you can get this story all pulling in the same direction instead of fighting against itself, I think you'll really have something.
But as for the rest of the story... well, it's got some great bits. There are laugh-out-loud moments here, and I'm generally inclined to judge a comedy by its highs rather than its lows. But everything here feels tonally disjointed. From language (Scootaloo apparently has the voice of a dapper englishmare, except when she's dropping f-bombs) to setting (if you're going to make a joke about how nobody at the market notices a bunch of screaming and an alcohol fire ten feet away from them, best not to undermine it by making the impassibility of the market a plot point right afterwards) to level of psychopathy (which vacillates from "kids are dumb" to "these are actual literal psychopaths")... I'm just wishing this story would pick a lane and ride it. Right now, it feels like you've got a brutal dark comedy in mind, but you're continually undermining it to try to make it feel more FiM-ish. And the effect is neither rather than both. If you want to go full dark, go full dark. Make no apologies, punch me in the face from the word go, let me know "this is a completely brutal story that uses a few canon personalities to poke fun at an edgefest," and dare me not to go along with it!
Or, if you worry that too many readers can't/won't take you up on that dare, go the other way and give this the full R-to-PG-13 conversion treatment--no swearing, no actual death or permanent disfigurement, more emphasis on matching up the character dialogue and tone (though not story events, obs) with canon. Either way could work! But definitely take this one direction or the other, because right now you're pulling back just enough to make your darkest moments and most out-of-character actions and dialogue feel like tonal mistakes instead of like a concerted effort by the entire fic to push the envelope.
There's a fair bit of work to be done on this one, I think--but you've already got some brutally funny bits, and if you can get this story all pulling in the same direction instead of fighting against itself, I think you'll really have something.
While I liked it, and got a few chuckles out of it, I'd say that this looks pretty unpolished to me. A lot of fun ideas, as >>Chris said, but the execution sometimes is just a bit lacklustre.
You also seemed to keep wanting to switch to the third person perspective - there are bits and piece that don't actually make much sense if Scootaloo is telling the story as we're supposed to believe she is? If this was an attempt to experiment, then there are worse places to do it for sure, but I'm not sure it really worked for you.
Still, there are some genuinely funny moments, and as oblique as they were I did appreciate your references to the prompt. Keep at it!
You also seemed to keep wanting to switch to the third person perspective - there are bits and piece that don't actually make much sense if Scootaloo is telling the story as we're supposed to believe she is? If this was an attempt to experiment, then there are worse places to do it for sure, but I'm not sure it really worked for you.
Still, there are some genuinely funny moments, and as oblique as they were I did appreciate your references to the prompt. Keep at it!
I definitely agree with >>Chris:
About the tone here. Assassinate these characters further! They're not just chilling in the town square at the beginning: they're passing around a joint and a bag holding a can of malt liquor! Cheerilee here isn't their teacher: she's in charge of Ponyville Juvenile Hall! The story's already cranked to 11--take it to 111!
That's my suggestion at least...
Mike
About the tone here. Assassinate these characters further! They're not just chilling in the town square at the beginning: they're passing around a joint and a bag holding a can of malt liquor! Cheerilee here isn't their teacher: she's in charge of Ponyville Juvenile Hall! The story's already cranked to 11--take it to 111!
That's my suggestion at least...
Mike
In which Sweetie Belle blends in with the fish.
You might've needed more time proofreading due to the errors here and there. To pile onto that, the ending seemed a bit confusing for me: What does a bean and a kidney have to do with Ruby Pinch and Scootaloo trying to run away from Applejack? Though, to be fair, I think this means that that particular action is more implied than anything—maybe even a noodle incident. I also sadly do not get how Ot relates to this. The closest I could get from the top of my head and some quick online searching is that ketamine seems to have some relation to occupational therapy (OT).
Oh. I just answered my own question just now, huh? That actually makes the mention of therapy and Rarity going to Manehattan for a patient much more sensible now. It's still not too related to the prompt, but, hey, if that didn't happen, this comedy story wouldn't have happened.
Other than that, this is a very blunt and very straightforward comedy piece. Black comedy, to be precise. It's interesting that it's not just straightforward: the rather long-winded tone of Scootaloo somehow makes all the raw surprises here all fun and good to the point that, for some reason, some of the errors just fit with how, for lack of a better term, broken the story becomes as it gets into the end with the depravity and insanity levels rising.
Shock value will keep this afloat, but proofreading errors may prevent this from reaching the top. Still, good job on a crazy story!
You might've needed more time proofreading due to the errors here and there. To pile onto that, the ending seemed a bit confusing for me: What does a bean and a kidney have to do with Ruby Pinch and Scootaloo trying to run away from Applejack? Though, to be fair, I think this means that that particular action is more implied than anything—maybe even a noodle incident. I also sadly do not get how Ot relates to this. The closest I could get from the top of my head and some quick online searching is that ketamine seems to have some relation to occupational therapy (OT).
Oh. I just answered my own question just now, huh? That actually makes the mention of therapy and Rarity going to Manehattan for a patient much more sensible now. It's still not too related to the prompt, but, hey, if that didn't happen, this comedy story wouldn't have happened.
Other than that, this is a very blunt and very straightforward comedy piece. Black comedy, to be precise. It's interesting that it's not just straightforward: the rather long-winded tone of Scootaloo somehow makes all the raw surprises here all fun and good to the point that, for some reason, some of the errors just fit with how, for lack of a better term, broken the story becomes as it gets into the end with the depravity and insanity levels rising.
Shock value will keep this afloat, but proofreading errors may prevent this from reaching the top. Still, good job on a crazy story!
I really like the super stylized first person narration here. It's got a nice noir-y parody flavor to it that really does a good job of setting up tone and reader expectations from the get-go. I personally think the best jokes are the over-the-top descriptions that Scootaloo gives of her fellow Crusaders and each new character as they come in.
Now, I'm going to be honest and say that not a lot of the jokes landed with me in the end. That's not as condemning a statement as that sounds, though, since I frankly have a pretty odd track record when it comes down to disagreeing with other reviewers about comedies. I don't write a lot of humor in general, but if I were to hazard a guess as to why these jokes aren't doing it for me, I'd say that maybe it's because there's not much of a contrast for the ridiculousness to play off of. I don't want to say that this needs a straight-man role (because character deconstruction comedies rarely need one), but there might be some other way to keep the reader from becoming desensitized to the sheer craziness that's happening.
So in the end, this didn't really end up being my personal cup of tea, but I do think that it does do a bunch of things right. I'm not entirely sure why this didn't work for me, so I'll just let you take my reaction as a data point.
Thanks for entering!
Now, I'm going to be honest and say that not a lot of the jokes landed with me in the end. That's not as condemning a statement as that sounds, though, since I frankly have a pretty odd track record when it comes down to disagreeing with other reviewers about comedies. I don't write a lot of humor in general, but if I were to hazard a guess as to why these jokes aren't doing it for me, I'd say that maybe it's because there's not much of a contrast for the ridiculousness to play off of. I don't want to say that this needs a straight-man role (because character deconstruction comedies rarely need one), but there might be some other way to keep the reader from becoming desensitized to the sheer craziness that's happening.
So in the end, this didn't really end up being my personal cup of tea, but I do think that it does do a bunch of things right. I'm not entirely sure why this didn't work for me, so I'll just let you take my reaction as a data point.
Thanks for entering!
Skipped down a bit because I had to start everything off with a huge round of applause for
JFC I couldn't even type quote right because I'm laughing so hard and now I have to pee.
And now that that's over, I have to stand alone among the giants here and say that I really liked all of this. The rapid escalation of boredom to prank to rampant crime spree just tickles me pink. Canon is straight-man enough for me in a piece like this, and I think all the jokes land nicely without anything other than the matter-of-fact narration to bounce off. So, good work all in all.
How the heck was I supposed to know what ‘ketamine’ was?I nearly died laughing.
“I’m gonna stab the mayor.”
JFC I couldn't even type quote right because I'm laughing so hard and now I have to pee.
And now that that's over, I have to stand alone among the giants here and say that I really liked all of this. The rapid escalation of boredom to prank to rampant crime spree just tickles me pink. Canon is straight-man enough for me in a piece like this, and I think all the jokes land nicely without anything other than the matter-of-fact narration to bounce off. So, good work all in all.
>>Meridian_Prime
As whoever the heck this is said, this was a deeply unpolished effort, and looking back I can't help but feel it deserves its tenth place placement in this round.
It's not terrible - I've definitely written worse - but it's got a lot of flaws, and there were some strong entries this round. Mostly, this comes down to a lack of time: I know we had plenty of it to write, but I ended up being super busy for most of that period. Most of this was written in the five hours leading up to the deadline, and I think it shows. The other big reason, one which was exacerbated by the time issue, is the fact that the whole thing is in first person. Confession time: this is a first for me! I'm definitely way more comfortable writing from the perspective of a narrator, that good ol' third person omniscient, and even as I was writing this there were so many points where I just thought 'damn, I don't know how to make this work from Scoot's pov'. Or worse, 'I don't know what the heck I'm doing writing from Scoot's POV'.
Anyway.
>>FanOfMostEverything
This is totally fair. On re-reading, the tonal dissonance between the bits of Scoot's writing where I succeeded in capturing the voice I wanted to capture and the bits where I... didn't, is huge. Basically, to answer the things you specifically highlighted: this story was supposed to be a heck of a lot darker than I think it actually ended up being. The Crusaders deliberately targeted Diamond Tiara in this because in this version of the MLP universe, the Crusaders are kind of assholes. Hence why, as glossed over by Scootaloo, Featherweight has an actual restraining order against them.
I've already mentioned that Scoot's diction is just literally me slipping through the cracks, but for Rainbow Dash, well. I think I did a decent job of setting up Scootaloo as not the brightest carrot in the patch, and I was going for that Awkward Dad Energy with Rainbow. I thought contrasting that with Scootaloo thinking she was kind of lame with Rainbow being all worried about being a good role model (and completely missing the Very Obvious Shadiness) would be funny. I don't think my execution was wonderful (again, super rushed) and frankly the humour may just not have landed for you, which is fine. Comedy is subjective.
Last but not least: I attempted to oblique references to the prompt. First, Sweetie Belle mentions that Rarity has gone to Manehatten for "a queue patient's ill terror pee" which is a mangling of "occupational therapy". Second, a barely there gag which I didn't even fully write out about Cheerilee wailing about overtime. It was supposed to be something along the lines of 'no overtime is worth this!'
...Yeah, not my finest effort overall.
>>Chris
Carrot Top's presence was indeed something of a tip of the hat. I swear her getting stabbed was not meant as any kind of message. ^^;
There's a lot here, and it's all on point. I'm glad you thought there were some funny parts - honestly, as long as this story (in this state) managed to deliver some laughs I'm happy. But yes, Scootaloo has a looot of tonal dissonance (in my defence I purposefully made sure there was precisely one instance of an f-bomb and I'm pretty sure it was justified in the circumstances - but yes, my own ridiculously-proper-received-pronounciation english came through a wee bit strong) and man I buggered up the setting (I can't believe I missed something that obvious). And last but not least, I had a lot of trouble with the tone/level of sanity for the characters. I think a lot of that I can trace back to trying to write in first person - I was going for a still-obviously-childlike and therefore very troubling brand of psychopathy, which I think would have worked a tad better with a narrator. But then I've basically written that story before - it's still up on my fimfic account. (¬_¬)
This is what I should have done. I can put down some of it down to trying to crunch everything at the last minute, but some of it is just me being a derp.
Anyway - thank you for an incredibly in depth, insightful, and helpful little review. You nailed a lot of problems with this piece, and gave me some hope that I can rescue it.
>>Baal Bunny
Yeeeeep. Should have gone all in on that tone - worked in those original plans to have Cheerilee as a former violent offender, Applejack as a small townl mafia boss, and Twilight Sparkle as your local friendly Doctor Mengele, who is definitely not burying atest subject body no siree.
>>Comma Typer
"Know the fish. Be the fish.
More seriously: yes, this needs some proofreading. It's a disjointed rambling mess and if I ever actually publish it (honestly, kind of unlikely) it'll be with some serious work done.
So this was intended to be a call back to Ruby Pinch essentially being a pint-sized godfather, and basically: Scootaloo asked Ruby to hide her from AJ's wrath, who did so (by stashing her in her house, where she tells this story to a passed out Berry Punch) in exchange for Scootaloo promising her a kidney. Scoots agrees, thinking she's referring to kidney beans because, as previously mentioned in the story, she's not too good at Biology.
Yep! That was my (very oblique) attempt to match this to the prompt, and I'm glad someone spotted it! I was also going for the classic "ket is for horses" meme, so it all tied in nicely.
Thank you! I really was going for that 'steadily increasing insanity' feeling for this one, so I'm glad that at least came across. Thank you for the feedback, I really do appreciate it.
>>Bachiavellian
Wow! I feel like the super-stylised tone really didn't land for most people, so I'm glad you liked it so much. I'm also glad you liked my crusader descriptions, I was pretty proud of those - I think if I'd managed to maintain the quality of the first bit of the story throughout this would have been a stronger entry, but alas.
Comedy is subjective. If it's not your cup of tea, it's not your cup of tea, and there's nothing wrong with that. I just appreciate that you took the time to outline what you liked and didn't! In terms of a lack of straight man - you may have a point. Honestly, there was never meant to be a straight man (other than possibly an expanded version of Carrot Top) - the sheer craziness is kind of the point. But I know that doesn't work for everyone - and regardless, both the unfamiliar territory of first person and the rushed second half/two-thirds really tripped me up at the finish line I think. All that aside, thank you for reading and reviewing. It's always appreciated.
>>Rao
And the nicest comment is saved for last - thank you! I personally think this entry was pretty flawed in the end, mostly due to a lack of experience with first person and the simple fact that I rushed it. But a comedy succeeds if it makes people laugh, and so thank you for reading and therefore ensuring that this succeeded.
Also I'm really glad you liked the 'ketamine' and 'stab the mayor' lines. They were some of my favourites. ^_^
As whoever the heck this is said, this was a deeply unpolished effort, and looking back I can't help but feel it deserves its tenth place placement in this round.
It's not terrible - I've definitely written worse - but it's got a lot of flaws, and there were some strong entries this round. Mostly, this comes down to a lack of time: I know we had plenty of it to write, but I ended up being super busy for most of that period. Most of this was written in the five hours leading up to the deadline, and I think it shows. The other big reason, one which was exacerbated by the time issue, is the fact that the whole thing is in first person. Confession time: this is a first for me! I'm definitely way more comfortable writing from the perspective of a narrator, that good ol' third person omniscient, and even as I was writing this there were so many points where I just thought 'damn, I don't know how to make this work from Scoot's pov'. Or worse, 'I don't know what the heck I'm doing writing from Scoot's POV'.
Anyway.
>>FanOfMostEverything
This is totally fair. On re-reading, the tonal dissonance between the bits of Scoot's writing where I succeeded in capturing the voice I wanted to capture and the bits where I... didn't, is huge. Basically, to answer the things you specifically highlighted: this story was supposed to be a heck of a lot darker than I think it actually ended up being. The Crusaders deliberately targeted Diamond Tiara in this because in this version of the MLP universe, the Crusaders are kind of assholes. Hence why, as glossed over by Scootaloo, Featherweight has an actual restraining order against them.
I've already mentioned that Scoot's diction is just literally me slipping through the cracks, but for Rainbow Dash, well. I think I did a decent job of setting up Scootaloo as not the brightest carrot in the patch, and I was going for that Awkward Dad Energy with Rainbow. I thought contrasting that with Scootaloo thinking she was kind of lame with Rainbow being all worried about being a good role model (and completely missing the Very Obvious Shadiness) would be funny. I don't think my execution was wonderful (again, super rushed) and frankly the humour may just not have landed for you, which is fine. Comedy is subjective.
Last but not least: I attempted to oblique references to the prompt. First, Sweetie Belle mentions that Rarity has gone to Manehatten for "a queue patient's ill terror pee" which is a mangling of "occupational therapy". Second, a barely there gag which I didn't even fully write out about Cheerilee wailing about overtime. It was supposed to be something along the lines of 'no overtime is worth this!'
...Yeah, not my finest effort overall.
>>Chris
Carrot Top's presence was indeed something of a tip of the hat. I swear her getting stabbed was not meant as any kind of message. ^^;
There are laugh-out-loud moments here, and I'm generally inclined to judge a comedy by its highs rather than its lows. But everything here feels tonally disjointed. From language (Scootaloo apparently has the voice of a dapper englishmare, except when she's dropping f-bombs) to setting (if you're going to make a joke about how nobody at the market notices a bunch of screaming and an alcohol fire ten feet away from them, best not to undermine it by making the impassibility of the market a plot point right afterwards) to level of psychopathy (which vacillates from "kids are dumb" to "these are actual literal psychopaths")... I'm just wishing this story would pick a lane and ride it.
There's a lot here, and it's all on point. I'm glad you thought there were some funny parts - honestly, as long as this story (in this state) managed to deliver some laughs I'm happy. But yes, Scootaloo has a looot of tonal dissonance (in my defence I purposefully made sure there was precisely one instance of an f-bomb and I'm pretty sure it was justified in the circumstances - but yes, my own ridiculously-proper-received-pronounciation english came through a wee bit strong) and man I buggered up the setting (I can't believe I missed something that obvious). And last but not least, I had a lot of trouble with the tone/level of sanity for the characters. I think a lot of that I can trace back to trying to write in first person - I was going for a still-obviously-childlike and therefore very troubling brand of psychopathy, which I think would have worked a tad better with a narrator. But then I've basically written that story before - it's still up on my fimfic account. (¬_¬)
Right now, it feels like you've got a brutal dark comedy in mind, but you're continually undermining it to try to make it feel more FiM-ish. And the effect is neither rather than both. If you want to go full dark, go full dark. Make no apologies, punch me in the face from the word go, let me know "this is a completely brutal story that uses a few canon personalities to poke fun at an edgefest," and dare me not to go along with it!
This is what I should have done. I can put down some of it down to trying to crunch everything at the last minute, but some of it is just me being a derp.
Anyway - thank you for an incredibly in depth, insightful, and helpful little review. You nailed a lot of problems with this piece, and gave me some hope that I can rescue it.
>>Baal Bunny
Yeeeeep. Should have gone all in on that tone - worked in those original plans to have Cheerilee as a former violent offender, Applejack as a small townl mafia boss, and Twilight Sparkle as your local friendly Doctor Mengele, who is definitely not burying a
>>Comma Typer
In which Sweetie Belle blends in with the fish.
"Know the fish. Be the fish.
More seriously: yes, this needs some proofreading. It's a disjointed rambling mess and if I ever actually publish it (honestly, kind of unlikely) it'll be with some serious work done.
What does a bean and a kidney have to do with Ruby Pinch and Scootaloo trying to run away from Applejack?
So this was intended to be a call back to Ruby Pinch essentially being a pint-sized godfather, and basically: Scootaloo asked Ruby to hide her from AJ's wrath, who did so (by stashing her in her house, where she tells this story to a passed out Berry Punch) in exchange for Scootaloo promising her a kidney. Scoots agrees, thinking she's referring to kidney beans because, as previously mentioned in the story, she's not too good at Biology.
Oh. I just answered my own question just now, huh?
Yep! That was my (very oblique) attempt to match this to the prompt, and I'm glad someone spotted it! I was also going for the classic "ket is for horses" meme, so it all tied in nicely.
this is a very blunt and very straightforward comedy piece. Black comedy, to be precise. It's interesting that it's not just straightforward: the rather long-winded tone of Scootaloo somehow makes all the raw surprises here all fun and good to the point that, for some reason, some of the errors just fit with how, for lack of a better term, broken the story becomes as it gets into the end with the depravity and insanity levels rising.
Thank you! I really was going for that 'steadily increasing insanity' feeling for this one, so I'm glad that at least came across. Thank you for the feedback, I really do appreciate it.
>>Bachiavellian
I really like the super stylized first person narration here. It's got a nice noir-y parody flavor to it that really does a good job of setting up tone and reader expectations from the get-go. I personally think the best jokes are the over-the-top descriptions that Scootaloo gives of her fellow Crusaders and each new character as they come in.
Wow! I feel like the super-stylised tone really didn't land for most people, so I'm glad you liked it so much. I'm also glad you liked my crusader descriptions, I was pretty proud of those - I think if I'd managed to maintain the quality of the first bit of the story throughout this would have been a stronger entry, but alas.
Now, I'm going to be honest and say that not a lot of the jokes landed with me in the end. That's not as condemning a statement as that sounds, though, since I frankly have a pretty odd track record when it comes down to disagreeing with other reviewers about comedies. I don't write a lot of humor in general, but if I were to hazard a guess as to why these jokes aren't doing it for me, I'd say that maybe it's because there's not much of a contrast for the ridiculousness to play off of. I don't want to say that this needs a straight-man role (because character deconstruction comedies rarely need one), but there might be some other way to keep the reader from becoming desensitized to the sheer craziness that's happening.
So in the end, this didn't really end up being my personal cup of tea, but I do think that it does do a bunch of things right. I'm not entirely sure why this didn't work for me, so I'll just let you take my reaction as a data point.
Thanks for entering!
Comedy is subjective. If it's not your cup of tea, it's not your cup of tea, and there's nothing wrong with that. I just appreciate that you took the time to outline what you liked and didn't! In terms of a lack of straight man - you may have a point. Honestly, there was never meant to be a straight man (other than possibly an expanded version of Carrot Top) - the sheer craziness is kind of the point. But I know that doesn't work for everyone - and regardless, both the unfamiliar territory of first person and the rushed second half/two-thirds really tripped me up at the finish line I think. All that aside, thank you for reading and reviewing. It's always appreciated.
>>Rao
And the nicest comment is saved for last - thank you! I personally think this entry was pretty flawed in the end, mostly due to a lack of experience with first person and the simple fact that I rushed it. But a comedy succeeds if it makes people laugh, and so thank you for reading and therefore ensuring that this succeeded.
Also I'm really glad you liked the 'ketamine' and 'stab the mayor' lines. They were some of my favourites. ^_^
>>Meridian_Prime
Oh, thank goodness, it was meant as Awkward Dad Energy. It came across as "You 18 yet?" energy when I read it.
Oh, thank goodness, it was meant as Awkward Dad Energy. It came across as "You 18 yet?" energy when I read it.
>>FanOfMostEverything
o_o
That is what I was actively trying to avoid.
Darn it all. She's supposed to be the trying-but-doesn't-know-what-she's-doing-stepdad archetype.
o_o
That is what I was actively trying to avoid.
Darn it all. She's supposed to be the trying-but-doesn't-know-what-she's-doing-stepdad archetype.