The meat locker was fresh with entries. Several new ponies, still steaming and dripping with un-drained blood were occupying the hooks. I recognized one, much to my horror, as the dear, sweet school teacher, Ms. Cheerlie. She was a spry, happy, pink-coated mare with a passion for children and living. She still had a great deal of skin and fur hanging on her. Whoever did the skinning was untrained… The Crusaders… The sight hardened my resolve. Pinkie was going to die tonight, and I -Sebastian Cornelius Cooper- would be the one to put her down.
With a haphazard kick to the door leading in to what I had come to call “The Chamber”, the wood cracked and the door itself flew into the room, just like the door upstairs.

“Sebastian! Doesn’t a butler like you know barging into someone’s private space is rude!?” Pinkie huffed, crossing her hooves over her chest in a very miffed manner.
As I drew the revolver, which had been tucked into a holster that had been given to me for my last birthday by my gun-enthusiast of a brother, I looked about for any sign of Rarity. Nothing…

“Alright, Pinkie,” I demanded. “Where is she?”
The pink-maned pony cocked her head at me.

“Who?”
Cocking the hammer back, I continued.

“Rarity! Where is Rarity!!?”
Gummy, Pinkie’s toothless pet alligator, came creeping up next to her, out of some kind of depression or hole in the floor. That had to be where my white-coated mare in distress was laid to wait.

“Oh!” Pinkie confirmed. “She’s in the hole.”
Once my hand came to a stop, my sights set between her eyes, Pinkie began to smile.

“Not even gonna give your bestest friend a fighting chance, huh?” she asked.

“No.”
My curt reply was accompanied by my first shot. Pinkie was quick enough to evade the round and begin a zig-zag approach on me. Her movements were quick enough to evade my aim until she was within arm’s reach. At that point, the slow motion effect of my eye and adrenaline took hold. With a wild step backward, my finger pulled back once again. The shot met its mark this time. The force snapped her head back, bringing her now limp frame back with her. The poor psycho landed flat on her back, mouth agape in an eternal scream, a hole big enough to stick my thumb through voided the space between her eyes and the floor beneath her pooled with blood and grey matter… It wasn’t enough… Just one wasn’t enough…

“One…” BLAM!

“Two…” BLAM!!

“ Three...” BLAM!!!

“Four…” BLAM!!!!
That was the end of Pinkamena Diane Pie. It had to be. Almost nothing remained of her head… Nobody, not even The Professor could survive such a thing…

“Rarity-”
My words were cut short by the shouting by the Royal Guards charging down the staircase, armed to the teeth with everything from swords and maces to pistols and assault rifles. Their bewildered expressions told me that they had no clue what had happened. My explanation would wait for now.

“Help me get Miss Rarity out of that hole.” I demanded, crouching down to look deep into the abyss below.

“Sebastian!! Is that you!? Oh, thank Heaven! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!” Rarity’s voice was hoarse, strained and incredibly tired.

“Rarity!” I called down to her. “I’m coming down to get you!!”
One of the guards came forward with a repelling harness designed to carry two and a long length of rope. Rarity was half-starved and her horn was missing. The wound was infected… Still, she launched herself into my arms sobbing like a newborn foal upon laying eyes on me.

“Thank you!” she sobbed out.