Iron Will paced around the hotel room, clutching his script in his fingers. In less than six hours, he would be on stage in Ponyville for the second time. He was currently staying at the outskirts of the small town, accompanied by his team of elite security-goats. His crew was the best of the best and would surely ensure that this second foray into Ponyville would go by smoothly.

Pausing in front of a mirror, Iron Will glared at his reflection, letting the script fall out of his fingers.

Pointing at his reflection, he barked, "You there! Iron Will wants you on staaaaaage!"

The minotaur coughed and cleared his throat.

He tried again. "YOU there! Iron Will wants you on staaaaaaaaaage!"

Nope. Still too quiet.

"YOU THERE!" he bellowed, flexing his muscles beneath his sleek blue coat. "Iron Will wants YOU on staaaaaage!"

He slumped over in frustration, smacking his horns against the wall. "Iron Will doesn't have it down yet! Iron Will must be as assertive as he can possibly be, in case that pegasus shows up again!" He groaned at the memory. It had been almost a year since he'd last hosted an assertiveness seminar in Ponyville.

In light of the chaos one certain pegasus had brought, Mayor Mare was reluctant to allow Iron Will to host another event. However, after much sweet-talking (and a little sobbing at her hooves), the Mayor agreed to reserve the amphitheater for the event. Consequently, Iron Will wasn't going to take any chances of messing this one up, too.

Sighing, he stood straight up and stretched, cracking his neck. "Iron Will must be careful. If ponies don't learn the difference between assertiveness and aggression, Mayor Mare might ban Iron Will from further seminars—or, worse, fine Iron Will—and then Iron Will won't be able to afford a new di—"

THUD! THUD! THUD!

Exhaling hot steam from his nostrils, the minotaur stomped over to the door, shouting, "Iron Will is coming! Hold your ponies!" He swore under his breath as he fidgeted with the old doorknob, which was reluctant to reveal his visitor.

Once it finally let loose, he looked around, seeing nopony in front of him. "Hmm?" He raised an eyebrow and called into the hallway, fuming with annoyance. "Who dares to interrupt Iron Will's rehearsal?!"

Below his line of sight came a weak bleating.

"Huh?" Iron Will darted his eyes to the floor. There, barely tall enough to reach his knees, one of the security-goats trembled, his muzzle a sickly white. The goat coughed and sneezed, spraying his employer's hindhooves with a cloud of deathly mist. Iron Will scoffed and backed away. "Don't you cough on Iron Will! Now, what's the matter? Iron Will was in the middle of rehearsal!"

"Baaaa! Baa, baaa!" The goat choked out his words, rubbing his snout, which was visibly inflamed and irritated.

Iron Will raised an eyebrow and snorted. "The whole crew is sick?"

"Baa! Baa!"

"The entire security team?"

"Baa..." Interrupted by a coughing fit, the goat brought a cloven hoof to his throat and rubbed it, trying to soothe his pain. Once he caught his breath, he continued, "Baaaaa! Baa! Baaa baa, baa baaaa!"

Iron Will's annoyed scowl fell away, replaced by a worried frown. "The billygoat flu? All of Iron Will's security officers are sick with the billygoat flu?"

His guard nodded.

Worry wormed its way into Iron Will's one-track mind. If his security crew was sick, there would be nopony to check tickets! Nopony to watch the crowds! And, especially, nopony to make sure that meddling pegasus wouldn't sneak her way into his show! How could he even have a show without security? He shook his muzzle rapidly and crossed his arms, refusing to believe it.

Skeptical, he demanded, "Show Iron Will!"

Sniffing back a clot of snot, the goat nodded once more and turned around, his hooves skidding a little across the floor as he maneuvered. Iron Will rolled his eyes at the exaggeration. Closing the door behind him, he followed his sick guard, mumbling under his breath, "Iron Will shall dock half your pay if you are lying..."

The goat located the door to the officer's suite and rapped on the door three times, paused, and knocked twice more. A haggard, black goat opened the door, a blanket slung over his shoulders and a thermometer hanging from his lips.

Iron Will glanced quizzically at this guard. "Really? Old Ironhoof is sick, too?"

Ironhoof bleated, "Ba... aa... achoo!" The force of his sneeze sent the old goat flying backwards, smacking into one of the beds. Iron Will and his interrupting goat walked into the suite.

There, strewn about on both beds, both couches, and even on the floor, the entire team of ten billygoats laid down in misery. Some of them pressed cold compresses to their foreheads. Others huddled up in blankets, shivering. Still others downed cups of hot tea and orange juice, hoping to exorcise the demons within.

Iron Will crossed his arms and shook his head. "Iron Will is disappointed in all of you!" He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Playing sick before a seminar? If you didn't want to work for Iron Will, you should've told Iron Will! It's too late to back out now!"

Ironhoof brushed against his boss's hooves, shaking his withered muzzle. He pulled the thermometer from his mouth and held it up for Iron Will to read. The minotaur swiped the instrument away and held it close to his face. "One hundred and two degrees..." His shoulders slumped in sick realization. Passing the thermometer back, he mumbled, "Iron Will believes you now."

Sighing, he made his way to the bathroom of the guards's suite, where he washed his hands several times. Once he was finished, Iron Will returned to the main room and looked around. None of his security-goats were in working condition. Not a single one. Whoever had caught the bug first had apparently spread it around to every one of them, leaving Iron Will with absolutely no other option but to cancel the event.

Defeated, Iron Will glanced at Ironhoof and the guard who'd alerted him to the situation. "Iron Will understands. All of you must get well. Stay here and rest. Iron Will shall go talk to Mayor Mare and let her know."

~

"Are ya sure 'bout this, Babs?"

Apple Bloom followed after Babs Seed, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo. The four Crusaders had just wrapped up a somewhat-successful Crusaders meeting. Since her cousin was in town, Apple Bloom was adamant that they go on a serious crusade today. However, Babs's suggestion for a crusade seemed a little... odd.

Babs Seed blew the strand of mane in front of her eyes away and laughed. "C'mon, cuz! Dis is a good idea. You'll see." She led the Crusaders away from the clubhouse and towards one of the Apple Family barns where the cows, pigs, sheep, and other animals slept.

"Yeah! I'm liking this idea!" Scootaloo fluttered her wings in excitement. "This definitely beats your last idea, Apple Bloom!"

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. "Jus' 'cuz none o' y'all know how ta sew doesn't mean it was a bad idea."

"Rarity wasn't too happy when we stitched Opal's tail to that fabric," Sweetie said sheepishly, blushing.

Babs laughed and threw back her mane. "You three tried ta stitch a cat? Dat's not the sayin'!"

"We weren't tryin'," protested Apple Bloom. "It jus' kinda happened."

"Like dat time ya went inta Twilight's library lookin' fo' a nice story, an' instead ya found a book 'bout in—"

"Babs! Ah told ya that was a secret!" Flattening her ears, Apple Bloom shook her head and kicked at the grass as she followed after her cousin and friends. She muttered under her breath, "Can't tell that consarned filly anythin' without her openin' her big mouth."

"What's dat?" Babs stopped in her tracks and turned around, eying her cousin suspiciously.

"Nothin'." Pointing to one of the barns, Apple Bloom said, "We're here, Babs. Are ya really sure this is a good idea ta get our cutiemarks?"

"'Course it is! 'Sides, ma city friends say country-ponies do this all the time," Babs assured. She sat down and motioned for the other Crusaders to come closer. They formed a small circle. Babs threw her forehooves around Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo's shoulders and nodded for Apple Bloom to do the same. With a groan, Apple Bloom complied.

"What's the plan, Babs?" Scootaloo asked, a huge grin on her muzzle.

"Alright, so heeya goes." Babs cleared her throat and glanced at the barn. "One o' us sneaks inside, sees if any o' dem cows are sleepin', an' comes back out heeya. If any o' dem are, all three o' us go in, rush over ta their weak side, then push 'em over."

Sweetie squeaked excitedly. "Oooh! This is gonna be great! 'Cutie Mark Crusader Cow-Tippers!'"

Babs smirked. "Exactly."

"Cuz," Apple Bloom said, flattening her ears in annoyance, "Ah've lived on a farm all ma life, an' we've never done anythin' like this."

"Dat's 'cuz ya didn't have me 'round. You were a chicken befo'," joked Babs Seed, shooting her a toothy grin. "I'm tellin' ya, Apple Bloom, dis is the perfect plan! Nothin' can go wrong!"

With a sigh, Apple Bloom nodded, figuring that arguing with the stubborn filly wasn't worth the effort.

After a few more hushed instructions, the other Crusaders unanimously selected Scootaloo to sneak into the barn. "On accounta ya wings an' all," Babs explained, which earned her a glare from Scoots.

Once decided, three Crusaders ducked behind a large apple tree near the barn, while the fourth tip-hoofed her way towards it. "You can do it, Scoots!" Sweetie Belle hissed, peering around the tree.

"Shut up! You'll blow my cover!" Scootaloo snapped back, keeping her voice low.

Apple Bloom yanked Sweetie back behind the tree. Babs just face-hoofed, saying, "I can see you three would make terrible spies."

"Quiet, Babs!"

"Sorry, cuz."

With a groan, Scootaloo stopped in her tracks and stared at the barn. According to her calculations, she was about twenty feet or so away from the double doors. If she could manage to fly all the way, this would prove to be a sure-fire plan. She smirked and spread her tiny wings. Twenty feet, schmenty feet!

Extending her fledgling wings to full length, Scootaloo jumped and started to pump her wings furiously, stretching her hooves forward. Recalling the lessons of her idol, she propelled her wings as fast and hard as she could. Miraculously, she was moving forward! The barn doors were coming closer! Closer, closer, closer, and—

Scootaloo felt a sharp, stabbing pain, and crashed to the ground.

Babs face-hoofed again. "Celestia damn it..."

Sweetie gasped. "Is she okay?"

Apple Bloom whispered, "Ah... Ah think so..."

Scootaloo groaned and pushed herself back up. She looked towards the barn again.

Fifteen feet away.

Shaking her head, Scootaloo trudged forward, stopping when she felt something wet and sticky beneath her hoof. It had a weird, squishy texture. "Gross!"

Scootaloo lifted the offending forehoof and examined it closely. A strange, brown substance dripped from it. She brought it to her nose and sniffed. It smelled like... grass? "What the hay?"

"What did she just step in?" Sweetie asked, tilting her head.

"Um..." Apple Bloom gulped, wide-eyed. "Ah don't think the cows are asleep, gals."

Suddenly, Scootaloo's eyes bulged out of their sockets. She started backing up, her wings flaring in horror. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my GOSH! Gross! Gross! Gross!"

Shaking her forehoof rapidly as she tried to sling it off, Scootaloo cried, "Get it off me! Get it off me! GET IT OFF ME!"

"Well, so much fo' dat Crusade..." Rolling her eyes, Babs turned to her cousin. "Know where the hose is?"

~

"What do you mean your entire security team is ill?"

Mayor Mare peered up the brim of her glasses at her visitor. Swiveling lazily in her favorite chair, she brought her forehooves together over her desk. Despite her gesture, she was far from patient. "Well?" She raised an eyebrow, snorting her annoyance. "Is this some sort of joke?"

Iron Will cleared his throat loudly and rubbed his neck. He darted his eyes around the Mayor's office as he mumbled, "Well, er, you see, Mayor Mare, Iron Will, er, um, unfortunately—"

"Do you know," she said, removing her spectacles with one forehoof, "that we had to cancel another event to make room for that ridiculous 'assertiveness seminar' of yours?"

"Y-you did?" He gulped, feeling nauseous.

"Indeed. And that event is far more anticipated than yours."

"May..." He spread his arms apologetically. "May Iron Will know, Miss Mayor?"

Cleaning her glasses absentmindedly, Mayor Mare replied, "The annual Ponyville Festival For Deep-Frying Things That Should Never Be Fried, Like Fruit Punch."

He blinked in reply.

"Oh yes, it's quite a tradition here." Satisfied with her glasses, she placed them back on her face and looked directly at Iron Will. "All of the young fillies and colts eagerly look forward to it. Some of the chubbier ones even go on a diet for a few weeks beforehoof in anticipation of all that artery-clogging goodness. But," she said with a sigh, "I suppose that the festival was canceled for nothing this year."

Flushing with guilt, Iron Will wrung his hands and began, "Mayor Mare, Iron Will is—"

She held up a forehoof to stop him. "Don't be sorry. It's obvious what's going on here."

"Oh?"

Hopping out of her chair, Mayor Mare trotted up to the minotaur and stared at him menacingly. She pointed angrily at him as she spoke. "You chickened out, didn't you? Couldn't stand to show your muzzle in this town after what happened after all, could you? Too afraid that a certain pegasus would make a fool out of you, again?!"

Iron Will took a few steps back, inching towards the door and holding up his hands in surrender. "Iron Will is very sorry! Iron Will shall never try—"

Mayor Mare jumped up and snatched a hold of his tie, pulling his muzzle to meet hers. "Oh, no you don't!"

Taken aback, he stuttered, "B-beg pardon?"

"The show must go on," Mayor Mare vowed, her eyes afire, "especially when I'm missing out on triple-deep-fried donuts because of your stupid little seminar!"

Retching his tie out of her grip, he argued, "But, Iron Will cannot have a show without security off—"

"Then hire some random ponies to take tickets and swing batons!" Mayor Mare groaned and dismissed him with a forehoof. "They're just Rent-A-Guard's anyway—pitiful excuses of flesh playing Royal Guard when they couldn't make the cut!"

Iron Will snorted, steam smoking from his nostrils. "Don't you insult Iron Will's—"

"I'll do whatever I damn well please! Now, get yourself some replacements, or get the buck out of my town!" Mayor Mare thrust her forehoof towards the door. "You're dismissed! NOW!"

Grumbling to himself, the minotaur stomped out of the office, cracking his knuckles and shaking his head.

With a heavy, frustrated sigh, Mayor Mare returned to her favorite chair and buried her muzzle in her forehooves. "Oh, my dear deep-fried fruit punch, how could I have abandoned you for that freak?"

~

Applejack shook her head and started rolling up the hose, glancing over at the four fillies, one of whom now had a perfectly polished right forehoof. "Ah can't believe y'all! Thinkin' o' goin' an' disturbin' our friends ta try an get a cutiemark!"

Applejack scoffed and spat on the ground. "Y'all have had some pretty hare-brained ideas before, but this jus' takes the cake! Whose idea was this, anyway?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes.

Babs twiddled her forehooves, mumbling, "Well, er, it was—"

"It was Babs!" Scootaloo exclaimed, pointing at her.

"What?! You're a snitch now?" Babs spun around, glaring at the pegasus.

Applejack stomped a hoof into the dirt. "Serves ya right, Babs! That is not how we do things 'round here!"

Rolling her eyes, Babs grumbled half-heartedly, "I'm sorry, Cousin Applejack."

"No." Applejack ordered, stepping closer to her, "Say it like ya mean it."

Mustering the most convincing pout she could, Babs looked squarely at Applejack and said, "I'm sorry, Cousin Applejack! It won't happen 'gain! I promise!"

"You'd better. Ya haven't even been here mo' than a few hours, Babs, an' yer already gettin' inta trouble." Sighing, Applejack said to the four fillies, "Now, Ah've got a lotta work ta do ta-day. Ah was thinkin' o' havin' y'all help as punishment—"

"Noooooo!" the Crusaders whined in unison, frowning.

"But," Applejack continued, "Ah don't want y'all gettin' in the way. So, instead, Ah want y'all ta go inta town fer a few hours an' stay outta ma mane. Sound good?"

"We can do that, Applejack!" Apple Bloom glanced at her friends. "Right, gals?"

"Right!" cheered the others.

"An'," Applejack added, raising a forehoof, "Ah want y'all ta stay outta trouble. Go see Pinkie, Rarity, o' Fluttershy, o' somethin' like that."

Scootaloo offered, "What about Rainbow Dash?"

Applejack snorted. "Ah said stay outta trouble, not crash right inta it."

"Awww!" Scootaloo whined, her countenance falling.

"Aww, it's alright, Scoots!" Sweetie assured, springing to her hooves. "I bet we'll find something super fun to do in town!"

"'Ey, you're right!" Babs clasped her forehooves together excitedly. "I bet there's all sorts o' fun stuff we can do!"

"Ya see?" Applejack chuckled. "Y'all can have fun without bringin' harm ta other livin' creatures. O' steppin' in their dung."

Three muzzles giggled, while a fourth one blushed to a deep crimson. "It's not funny!" Scootaloo's protest, however, was in vain. Even Applejack was laughing at her. Irritated, she fluttered her wings and galloped off towards town center, leaving the other three in her dust.

"Aw, c'mon, Scoots! It was jus' a joke!" Apple Bloom shouted, as she, Babs, and Sweetie took off in hot pursuit.

~

Iron Will stood smack-dab in the middle of Ponyville's town center, near the fountain. He held a crudely-written sign in his fingers: Security Officers Needed Today! Forty Bits For Four Hours! He plastered his best, most assertive smile across his face, smiling at everypony who passed him by.

Sadly, despite his best efforts, he had yet to hire a single pony. He'd been standing there for almost an hour with no luck at all. Adding insult to injury, he was certain that his toothy smile had sent at least one foal and one full-grown stallion screaming and crying for their mothers.

"What?!" He shook his head as a third pony ran away with tears in her eyes. "Iron Will is not a monster! Iron Will is a minotaur!!"

A beige mare with a red, streaked mane gasped over-dramatically and pointed a forehoof at him. "Monster! The horror! The HORROR!"

Iron Will waved his hand and shook his muzzle rapidly. "Wait! No, no, no—"

"AHHHHH!"

"A MONSTER!"

"THE HORROR!"

"RUN!"

"MY LEG!"

Before he could speak another frantic word, Iron Will was engulfed in a cloud of dust. All around him, vendors rushed their carts away or boarded up their shops. Earth ponies galloped home, making sure to tuck in their welcome mats before locking their doors behind them. Pegasi rocketed into the skies. Unicorns teleported to a safe location.

Meanwhile, Iron Will coughed and choked on the resulting dust, squeezing his eyes shut and struggling to breathe.

In a few, agonizing seconds, the dust cleared, and the minotaur found his breath. Heaving, he began to calm down, then opened his eyes.

Ponyville was deserted.

"Horseapples!" he cursed, stomping the ground. Groaning, he looked towards the town clock-tower. Only two hours to go before the seminar, and still no officers. It appeared there wouldn't be any now.

Face-palming, Iron Will sighed and shook his head. "Mayor Mare will have Iron Will's head on a platter if Iron Will doesn't find anypony to—"

"Quit it, Babs!"

"No, you quit it!"

"This is all yer fault, anyway!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Will you two stop fighting already?! You sound like an old married couple!"

"Ewww, Scoots! They're cousins!"

"Yeah! Plus, if Ah wanted ta marry ma cuz, Ah would pick somepony wit' a lil' mo' sense!"

"'Ey!"

"Well, it's true! Ya got us caught, an' now we gotta found somethin' else ta do!"

"It's not ma fault everypony left town!"

"Maybe not, but it's yer fault we're out here!"

"It's not ma fault Applejack found us!"

"Ya coulda done somethin' other than run 'round the farm screamin, 'Look, everypony, Scootaloo stepped in cow sh—'"

"HEY!"

A loud, bass voice snapped the four fillies to attention.

Iron Will stood by the fountain, crumpling his sign in his fingers. "Who dares disturb Iron Will's audible introspection?!" he demanded, spraying spittle into the wind. The wind, of course, playfully caught his foul saliva and blew it towards the Crusaders, who were only mere feet away.

"Ahhh! A monster!" Sweetie squeaked in terror and ducked behind Scootaloo. "Get 'em, Scoots!"

"What do you expect me to do?!" demanded Scoots, glaring at Sweetie Belle. She brought a forehoof to her cheek, finding it soaked in a sticky, smelly substance. "Oh, come onnnnnnn! This is the second time today I've been covered in somepony else's bodily fluids!"

"Or solids," corrected Babs, snort-laughing.

"Um, is anypony gonna talk ta this guy?" Apple Bloom mumbled, shaking her head disappointingly at her friends. She gestured to the minotaur towering above them. "Um, gals?!"

"Oh, yeah." Scootaloo looked up at Iron Will and screamed, her voice surprisingly high-pitched.

Smacking her belly, Babs flopped onto her back and began to laugh uproariously. "Hahahahahaha! Scoots has such a squeaky lil' scream! Hahahaha! What a baby!"

"I'm—not—a—baby!" Scoots lifted a forehoof towards Babs Seed. "Say that again to my face!"

Tears rolling down her cheeks, Babs paused her laughter and snickered. "You—are—a—ba—"

"ENOUGH!"

Tearing his sign in half, Iron Will threw his head back and howled to the Heavens. "What more do you want from Iron Will?! What more do you want from him?!"

"Um, that's weird." Apple Bloom poked one of the minotaur's hooves. "He's like, half pony, an' part bull, but part somethin' else that has real weird forehooves... an' he talks in third-pony."

"Yea!" Poking her head out from behind Scootaloo, Sweetie added, "And he seems oddly religious. Which is weird, considering that this show has nothing to do with religion. Not even the Pinkie-sense episode."

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. "'Show?'"

"Errr, nevermind," mumbled Sweetie as she looked away.

"Uh..." Apple Bloom looked up at the minotaur, who was now clutching his horns, clinging to them for dear sanity. "Uh, can we help ya, mister?"

"Hah—yeah!—haha!" Babs added between laughs, still rolling around on the street. "We—haha!—need somethin' ta do!"

Defeated, Iron Will slumped his shoulders and hung his muzzle. "Iron Will cannot be helped. Iron Will shall have to cancel today's seminar. The Universe does not smile upon Iron Will. Only mocks!" he cried, wiping a single tear from his eye.

Seeing this, all four Crusaders frowned and sat down side-by-side, looking up at the poor beast. "Aww, don't cry!" Sweetie asked, "What's wrong? Maybe we can help!"

Iron Will sighed. "Nopony can help Iron Will. Iron Will came back to Ponyville for a second chance, but Fate will have none of that."

"Wait... Iron Will?" Apple Bloom tilted her head. "Ain't you the one who made Fluttershy go crazy fer a lil' bit?"

Sweetie nodded. "Yeah, that was a great ep—I mean, thing."

Iron Will cupped his chin in his hands and nodded. "That's right, my little ponies. Mayor Mare banned Iron Will for almost a year after that, but gave him another shot today."

"Today?" Scootaloo repeated. "Wasn't today supposed to be the annual Ponyville Festival For Deep-Frying Things That Should Never Be Fried, Like Fruit Punch?"

"It was?" Babs groaned. "Now I'll never get ta know what deep-fried pickles taste like!"

Smirking, Scootaloo replied, "They taste like your mo—"

"Shhh!" Apple Bloom glared at the two, then turned back to Iron Will. "So, ya got a second chance. That's great! Why are ya so glum, then?"

"Iron Will's entire security team is sick!" He threw up his hands. "And Mayor Mare will not let Iron Will reschedule! Iron Will shall be run out of Ponyville now for good. And not just Ponyville. Others shall hear, and Iron Will shall soon be the laughingstock of Equestria!"

"Now, hold on a minute." Apple Bloom said, "Ya said you needed security-ponies, right?"

He nodded, sniffling a little.

Apple Bloom turned to her dysfunctional family of friends. Immediately, four muzzles lit up with evil grins. "Y'all thinkin' what Ah'm thinkin'?"

Sweetie whispered, "Cutie Mark Crusader..."

In unison, all four exclaimed, "Security Officers!"

Iron Will tilted his head. "Er... what?"

Rising to their hooves, the four fillies began hopping excitedly in a circle, chanting, "We're gonna get our cutiemarks! We're gonna get our cutiemarks! We're gonna get our—"

"Whoa, whoa!" Standing up, Iron Will narrowed his eyes. "Iron Will never said anything about hiring you four."

"But! But!" Sweetie Belle protested, tapping one of his hooves, "You said you needed help, right? We're willing to help you!"

"Yeah!" Scootaloo jumped and hovered in the air. "We'd make perfect security offers! We're ruthless, fearless, and don't take nothing from nopony!"

"Dat means ya take everythin', nitwit," Babs shot back, face-hoofing for the umpteenth time. "Double negative."

"Yeah, whatever! He knows what I meant!"

Iron Will stroked his chin and gave them a once-over. While they were small (even for fillies), what they lacked in size, they compensated for in spunk and wit.

Besides, who else would be so willing and eager to help? It seemed like the whole town had turned its back upon him. And with less than two hours to go before the seminar, Iron Will couldn't drum up any alternatives. This was his only shot.

After a long, awkward silence, he sighed and relented, "Fine, fine. You four shall be Iron Will's security team for the day."

He almost fell backwards into the fountain from the force of the unanimous shout that followed.

"YAY!"