* * *
Contraptionology!

by Jeffrey C. Wells

www.scrivnarium.net

(with gratitude to the pre-reading powers of Akela Stronghoof and S.R. Foxley)
* * *

Part Nineteen: Everlasting Science Fair

The place that I found myself in was sunny, and warm, and bright. I stared up past a ceiling of perfect clear crystal-glass panes to a breathtaking blue sky above, studded with happy white clouds. Distant, well-tempered music, pianoforte or something, floated gently through the air. And all about me was the quiet buzz of discovery and motion.

I rose to my modestly-sized orange hooves, soaking up the sweet relief of having normal, chunky, non-Nightmare'd legs beneath my barrel again, and took a look around.

There was no possible description of the place other than this: I was on the inside of an endless exhibition hall containing what appeared to be, yes, an everlasting science fair. Here beneath this vaulted glass ceiling was an infinite spread of cheery, hoofmade exhibits, each one demonstrating (with heartbreakingly innocent glee) one or more exciting principles of nature and/or magic. Here was a display on seed germination. Here, a basic treatise on the structure of the atom, illustrated with balls of brightly-painted hardwood. Here, a simple water-clock. Here, a chart detailing the relationship between geographic mana-lines and thaumaturgic power. And those were just the relatively static ones. Out of the corners of my eyes, I could catch glimpses of pluming artificial geysers, glimmering sparks of mystical current, and whizzing spring-driven machines of vast and perfect complicatedness. I had no doubt that if I followed up on any one of these things I would find behind it a chirpy little exhibit laying out exactly what natural processes were at work behind the scenes of the wonder I was currently beholding.

Simple pony-made gliders soared through the air. Helium balloons rose and fell. Arcs of water cascaded across the sky above my head. It was... well, I ain't gonna say "indescribable", because otherwise what in the hay am I spending all this time doing? But it was a touch overwhelming.

"Neat, huh?" came a familiar voice from behind me. I turned around to see exactly what I had been hoping to see: an adorkable, wide-eyed purple unicorn, her violet-striped mane mussed just so, standing practically on hooftip so full was she of magic and hope and light.

This was the creature the Nightmare wanted me to end.

"Hey, Twilight," I drawled, shuffling my hooves. I was acting all laconic but, truth to tell, the feeling of us girls being two little candy-colored ponies again was so good it was all I could do to keep from crying. I held it back. Had to stay strong for what I was about to do.

"So, uh," I continued. "This is what the inside of your brain looks like."

"Yes!" she said, excitedly. "It's just like my dream! An everlasting science fair."

"I gotta admit to being a touch surprised," I said. "I thought sure I was gonna end up in a library or something when I shoved my way in here."

"A perfectly reasonable assumption," said Twilight. "After all, I do love, love, love books! And I'm sure that if you poked around in this crystal hall for long enough, you'd find a really nice never-ending collection of them somewhere. But what I love more than anything, even more than books themselves, is learning new things and sharing what I've learned with my friends." She threw her forehooves wide. "I guess that's what this science fair represents!"

"Mm," I said, evenly, still steeling myself.

"Do you want to look at some of the exhibits with me?" she asked, doing a slow pirouette as she gestured all around. "There is, after all, an infinite number of them; there's always something new in the universe to learn!"

"Some other day, maybe," I said. "Listen, Twi, are you... are you aware of what's going on out there?"

"Yes," said Twilight, darkening a bit. Somewhere above us, a cloud masked the sun and the crystal hall grew a shade dimmer. "The science poison seems to be causing a disconnect between my true inner self and the self I present to the world. I seem to have gone, for lack of a better word, totally loco-in-the-coco." She rolled her eyes around to demonstrate "clinical insanity".

"Yeah, uh, I guess you went and burned 'bout half your library, or something?"

"Mm hm," she said, her voice even and dull. "Yep."

"We're both about to get killed, too," I added.

"Trying not to think about any of that right now, thanks," said Twilight. "A.J., I know I only did it because of the poison, but I still feel like I need to apologize to you for inventing a giant shapeshifting metal Trixie-bot who then proceeded to annihilate the both of us. It just isn't the sort of thing a good friend would do."

"No, Twilight," I said. "It ain't you. It's me what needs to apologize."

"It's okay," said Twilight, patting at my withers. "I know, you sold out to the Nightmare. Neither of us were in our right minds, A.J. It's fine."

"Consarnit, mare!" I hollered, shaking off her comforting hoof. "It ain't that at all!"

Twilight fell back on her haunches and looked at me, momentarily taken aback.

All right, Applejack. Moment of truth, here, literal-style. I took a breath.

"Twi," I asked, "do you have any displays here about kelpies?"

"Well, sure!" said Twilight, blinking a bit confusedly. She led me down one of the aisles of exhibits until we got to something akin to an animal biology section. "Kelpies," she muttered. "Kelpies... kelpies... kelpies... aha, here we are!" She beamed at the little booth she had located, complete with its own tiny little diorama, and then took a look at its carefully mouth-lettered informational display. "Kelpies," she recited. "Malicious pony-shaped spirits of ponds and pools. They lurk in dark and wicked woods, hoping to lure traveling ponies into touching them. Once they do, their hides become inescapably adhesive and they promptly drag the unfortunate pony they've captured back into their home pool to drown." Twi gave a little shudder. "Nasty things, it sounds like. What's the relevance, A.J.?"

"Well," I said, "I fought me a kelpie once."

"Really?" said Twilight. "Wow!"

I nodded. "It was real unpleasant. Nightmare reminded me of it during our whole temptation hoo-ha. This was way back before you came to town, back when I was a filly. All my little girlfriends, Dash and Flutters and Rarity, they all used to come running to me every time danger struck. It was me they looked to, on account of I used to be the leader of us all. Not you."

Twilight gave me a liquid-eyed gaze. When her voice came next, it was mighty small. "A.J.," she said, "I'm... I'm sorry. I had no idea that I was somehow supplanting you."

"Whoa, there," I said, holding up a hoof. "Still me doin' the apologizing here, Twi. Point is, when the Nightmare played that memory back for me, it felt real nice for a second, everypony looking for me to take the lead and all." I shook my head. "But then, a few minutes later, Dash reminded me of something else, and that's this: I was a right terrible leader back then. An' I still am."

"C'mon, A.J.," said Twi. "I think maybe you're selling yourself a little short."

"Naw, naw, look here," I said, gesturing at the tiny diorama sitting there in the front of the display. Sure enough, there was a sinister black balsawood kelpie figurine in there. And right behind it was a second figurine, a hapless-looking orange balsawood earth pony, wearing a miniature feltcraft Stetson on top of its head. The little orange pony's right forehoof was stuck like glue (using, in this here instance, actual glue) to the kelpie's side, and it appeared as though the kelpie was in the process of dragging the orange pony along behind it, probably to drown.

"That's me," I said, pointing. "When Flutters and Dash and Rarity came running to me, warning me that there was a kelpie in the woods, I didn't ask Rar to go fetch a bunch of fabric so we could wrap that kelpie up and marehandle it safely. I didn't ask R.D. to call up a gale-force wind that might have pushed it around without anypony touching it. Heckfire, I didn't ask Flutters what a kelpie even was before charging into the fray. Back then, the only way I knew how to deal with nasty critters was to get physical with 'em. And when you're fighting a varmint that actually wants you to get physical with it, well, I was completely lost."

"How on earth did you escape?"

"Hoof nippers," I said. "Chopped the tip of my own forehoof clean off and made my getaway. Thankfully, I had started bothering that kelpie with a simple little poke. If I had come right out of the gate with a roundhouse kick or a ponyslam, we wouldn't be having this here conversation, and there'd only be two Apple siblings working the Acres today. A hooftip grows back, thank goodness. A leg, not so much."

Twilight shuddered. "That's awful, A.J."

I nodded. "Yeah. But I ain't playing for sympathy here. Point I'm trying to make is this: if you'd been with us when we was just girls, you'd have done it up right. You'd have asked Fluttershy to tell us every little bit of woodsy lore she could recollect on the topic of kelpies. You'd have consulted your monster manuals and put together a list of strengths and weaknesses. You'd have made Rar get that fabric. You'd have told Dash to make that wind. And you'd have had me binding that thing up from a lariat's length away, not going and cuffing at it like a sillybritches. When the girls look up to you, it's not because you're their favorite pony. It's not because you up and replaced me in their eyes. It's because..."

"Yes?"

I swallowed hard. "Well, ain't no other way to say it. It's because you're a dang fine leader, Twilight Sparkle. You can't cook. You can't pull a plow. You can't build stuff. And yet, somehow, when it comes to telling other ponies what to do, you've suddenly got the magical ability to keep a whole score o' plates up in the air at once."

"It's not magic," explained Twilight. "It's organization. And you're absolutely right, Applejack. Being a leader doesn't mean that I'm a better or more important pony than anypony else. It just means that I have a particular knack for leadership, just like Rarity has a knack for fashion, or like you have for growing apples. It's a skill. That's it."

"Yeah," I said. "I finally got it. But that's today. Yesterday, I didn't have it yet. Yesterday, I got so mad about the changes you up and made to my town the second you arrived, the way you stole it out from under me that... that I did something just awful."

Twilight blinked at me. I closed my eyes. Here it comes, I thought.

"Twilight," I said, "you remember how you showed up late to the party last night?"

"Yes," she said, grumbling. "Ugh. I mean, I know it seems like I should have more important things to be fixating on right now, but I still can't believe I misread that invitation! I hate being late for things! Hate it, hate it, hate it."

"I know," I said, quietly. "And that's why I made sure you were late."

Silence dropped over the crystal hall. The wooden gliders tumbled from the sky and clattered to the floor. The geysers stopped pluming. The clockwork machines stopped whirring. A dark shroud fell over the entire Everlasting Science Fair.

"You what?" asked Twilight, in the sudden quiet.

"I helped write those party invitations," I said. "And it so happened I was the one responsible for making the one that went out to you. And I was just so angry and jealous at you that I... I deliberately wrote the wrong time on yours. You didn't misread the invitation. I invited you to my party, but I invited you late. On purpose."

"A.J.," said Twilight, her voice trembling. Above us, rain began to patter against the panes of the shiny glass ceiling. "You... you lied to me?"

"Yep," I said, barely able to form the word past the lump in my throat. My tears, long-delayed, finally started falling in earnest. "I lied to you, Twilight." And, yes, I lied to all y'all's reading this story, too. Just something else y'all gonna have to forgive me for.

"Why... why would you do something like that?"

"Because I wanted my party to be about me for a while!" I said, the words just spilling out now. "I wanted to pretend everything was like it was back in the old days, before I even knew you. I wanted, for just one hour, to be the most important pony in town again."

I slumped to the polished marble floor.

"But most of all, I did it because I knew it would hurt you," I finished, no louder than a bug. "And I wanted you to hurt."

There was silence for a time, broken only by the noise of rain on glass above us.

"Anyhow, that's how this all started," I said, sniffling away my tears. "All's I did was write an eight instead of a seven on your invite, and that little change plumb near ended the world on us. Yes, we all drunk that Discord-punch. And yes, it prolly still would have knocked us for a loop. But there weren't no way that demon could have hit us all as hard as he did if he couldn'ta found a chink in our Harmony. And I went and handed it to him on a silver plate. And then you used that same betrayal to fuel Princess Robo-Trixie out there. It's all my fault, Twilight. It's all me."

Twilight shook her head. "I knew it," she said, after a moment. "I knew that I didn't misread the invitation. But what was I supposed to think? The only thing I could even conceive of was that maybe whoever it was just made a mistake and wrote the wrong time down. That somepony would actually lie to me about what time the party was was just... inconceivable!" Twilight turned to me, her eyes sharp. "And after all that, it turns out that it was you, Applejack! The Bearer of Honesty!"

"I know," I said, all despondent. "I know. I know."

I sighed, then, and continued. "Anyhow, now I got the Nightmare riding my back. It basically sent me here to kill you dead."

"Oh," said Twilight, a little more subdued.

"Yep," I said. "Nightmare thinks that with you gone, your betrayal goes away too. Might weaken Discord enough for it to gain a hoof-up on him. Just another temporary advantage in a struggle that goes back to the dawn o' time. But I reckon there's a much simpler way to get rid of betrayal. All this while, the Nightmare didn't even think of doing it, because, well, just because it's simple doesn't make it easy. It requires you to change, and to the Nightmare, that's just about the hardest thing in the world. So hard that the Nightmare doesn't even reckon it's an option. And I ain't a hundred percent certain of it, neither, but I figure it's worth a shot."

I looked up at that little purple mare, looked her square in the eyes.

"Twilight," I said, "I done you wrong. Powerful wrong. Weren't even a good reason for it, other than fear, and jealousness, and trickery. I sit here in front of you with no excuse for my behavior whatsoever. So I don't expect I'm entitled to it, but because you're my friend, and I don't want to lose you, I'm gonna ask anyway."

I took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Twilight Sparkle," I said, "will you forgive me?"

A glow of orange witchlight began gathering around me. It started out faint but quickly grew to a strong fire, something like the evening sun. Twilight looked at my new aura in wonderment, brushing at it with the tip of one hoof.

"I... I want to just laugh this off," she said, the orange light illuminating her face from underneath in the darkness of the hall. "More than anything, I want to say 'no problem, A.J.!', close the book on it, and pretend it never happened. But that wouldn't be true, would it? You deliberately set out to hurt me yesterday, and that's not okay."

Twilight started to collect her own cloud of light, then, a bright billowing mass of radiant purple. "But... we're only equine, right?" she said. "We make mistakes. You're one of the most special ponies I know, Applejack. You're loyal, dependable, reliable, and strong – abnormally so, sometimes. When the chips are down, when I need a good solid right hoof to get the job done, you're not just the first name that comes to mind, you're often the only name that comes to mind. And after all we've been through together, after all that we've shared... well, I'd be crazy to throw that all away just for the sake of keeping a grudge against a genuinely apologetic mare who wants my friendship just as bad as I want hers."

Twilight threw her forehooves wide. "So I've thought about it," she said. "The answer it yes, Applejack. A hundred times yes. I forgive you."

"Thank you," I whispered. And with that, we threw ourselves into a deep, tight hug, clinging to each other with the sort of hungry joy that can only come from a couple of good friends who've spent too long living in their own separate shadows, finally emerging into the light. And as we did so, our purple and orange auras crashed into each other and rose into a twining column of purest hope, tearing through the gloomy rainclouds in the sky above the crystal ceiling and letting the sun shine in once more. The Everlasting Science Fair of Twilight's mind erupted into full and riotous motion, a universe full of fire and magic and clocks, and me and that mare hugged and hugged and hugged until the world went white and dissolved into heaven about me...

* * *

...and with a startled, strangled gasp, I awoke to the night sky of the real world, the Element of Honesty about my neck blazing up into the darkness. For one tiny moment, not even a second, I could see an expression of shock and horror cross the mirror-like face of the Great and Powerful Robo-Trixie, but there weren't time for anything more than that, because with a bright crash, she suddenly and violently dissolved into a flying glop of component metals. The sheer momentum of her dreadful charge forced the remnants of her over me like a disgusting but harmless wave of molasses, falling in tepid spatters against the dirt. An instant later, my Nightmare body seized up and spasmed hard, and I couldn't do anything more than holler out to the sky as a flood of dark power burst out of me, shattering my fancy evilness duds into charred and smoking scraps. The blackness flowed from my body like gunk escaping a wound, and I felt myself dwindle, the dread inflammation of the Nightmare pouring from my self and leaving it small and orange and whole once more.

I sank to the ground as the remains of the Nightmare boiled in the air above me like ink in water. "No!" it screeched, raging impotently. "No! You cannot have done this!"

"Just did," I wheezed.

"Applejack!" came the sound of Dash's voice, from across the plaza.

"Hang on, A.J. and Twilight!" Came Pinkie's voice, joining in. "We're coming!"

Dangfool mares didn't listen when I told 'em to stay put at the Corner after all. I propped myself up on my elbow and tried to get a fix, but the Nightmare found them before I did, and it streaked, snarling, across the plaza, its ragged blackness already beginning to fray apart into vapor.

"Rainbow Dash!" shouted the Nightmare, its voice going hollow and distant. "Nightmare Spectra! Join with me and become even more 'awesome' than you now are!"

Dash frowned, then glanced back at herself, experimentally flexing her slender and sinewy sky-blue wings. She looked back up at the Nightmare.

"I'm not... really sure how that's possible," she replied, sounding honestly confused.

"Pinkie Pie!" cried the Nightmare, the last, flickering traces of its physical form grasping helplessly in her direction. "Laughter! Forever!"

"Aw, no thanks," said Pinkie Pie. "I mean, can you imagine the hiccups?"

If the Nightmare had any response to this other than a faint, distant howl of frustrated rage, we could none of us hear it as its presence in our world withered away, at last, to nothing. And finally, all was quiet.

It did not remain quiet long, 'cause Pinkie Pie immediately rushed over to my position and looked me over. "Coca-mocha-macaroni!" exclaimed Pinkie. "You did it, A.J.! You beat the Nightmare!"

"We didn't have to blast you or anything!" said Rainbow Dash. She took a second to scan the wreckage of Town Square, looking for our trusty cloud-scooter. On recovering it, she hoisted herself back up on top, still favoring her freshly-braced leg. "Good thing, too, since we've only got like half the Elements anymore. How'd you even do that, sister?"

"Sister?!?" gasped Pinkie.

"Not actual sister-sister," Dash clarified. "Just, y'know, the sisterhoof sort of sister."

"Oh, good," said Pinkie. "I was worried I missed something there."

"It was simple," I said, coughing and brushing away the tattered remnants of my Nightmare getup. It ain't never felt better to be a roundish little orange horsey, not never. "That silly demon done bargained me too low. It got so desperate for me to accept it that it didn't even give me a full Nighmaring, just a sample. Big enough to take down that Trixie-bot but little enough that a good solid whack from a single Element could take it out."

I grinned down at my little orange apple necklace, tapping proudly at it. The jewel set into it was whole again, shining and uncracked. "Honesty, in this case," I said. "It was a hard truth I been holding onto, but I told it. And that, fillies, is why you never try and out-haggle an Apple."

"Lesson received," said Dash.

I turned back to Pinkie Pie and gestured down at the broken brain-tank. "Pinkie, I need you to do some of your technical hoodoo and check out Twilight, there, pronto."

"She looks okay to me," said Pinkie, cocking her head at the little lump of unicorn brain and then tipping its containing fragment upright so she was all nice and covered with science-juice again. "Maybe a little wrinkly and crenellated, yet, but don't worry, we'll make her better. Meanwhile, we can set her up in a lemonade pitcher until we can work up something more permanent."

"Something like her own head again, I hope," I said. "In any case, fantastic. R.D., we lost Spike somewhere in this mess. Help me find him."

"Way ahead of you," said Rainbow from over by the tree, poking at the fallen baby dragon. "Looks like the poor guy just got the wind knocked out of him. He'll be fine."

"Great. That's two. Can someone give me a status on that Trixie-bot?"

"Trixie is still here," came a wet, burbly voice from off to my left. "Trixie can hear everything you're saying about her. Unfortunately, Trixie is a miserable little puddle of gallium right now, and she will remain so for the foreseeable future, since she now lacks the betrayal energy that had apparently been powering her." The voice gave a pathetic little sniff. "Memories uploaded into Trixie's internal data banks suggest that this is a fairly typical outcome for Trixie."

"Aw, don't be a Saddy McSadderson!" said Pinkie Pie, trotting over to the forlorn glob of liquid metal. "Turn that vaguely frown-shaped ripple upside-down!" She cocked her head, tapping her chin with one hoof. "Or maybe not all the way upside-down. Maybe just a few degrees clockwise. Or maybe a couple radians to widdershins. Heck, I don't know! Do whatever it takes to make it look like a smile!"

"You must understand," said Trixie-bot, "that mere moments after she was created, Twilight Sparkle announced her intention to destroy Trixie. This made Trixie very upset. Perhaps this will help you understand why Trixie lashed out a bit."

"'Lashed out a bit'?" I said. "Y'all tried to disintegrate me four times, kicked me in the back of the neck, stabbed me and then almost dropped a building on my head!"

"Don't mind A.J.," said Dash, yawning. "She's just mad because you tried to disintegrate her four times, kicked her in the back of the neck, stabbed her, and then almost dropped a building on her head."

"Please don't be angry with us, Robo-Trixie," said Pinkie. "Twilight would never normally do what she said she was going to do to you. You just happened to get born on the one day we're all nuttier than peanut brittle around here." Suddenly, Pinkie's eyes went wide and she sucked in a great gasping breath. "Ohmygosh!" she screamed. "Today's your birthday, Robo-Trixie! We gotta throw you a party! There'll be cake and candy and pies and games and songs and laughing and ooh, you're going to get so powered up with friendship, you won't even miss the negative energy you used to run on! You're gonna love friendship, Robo-Trixie! It's just like betrayal but with more dessert!"

"Yes, well," gurgled Trixie, sullenly. "Trixie will see about that."

"Focus, Pinkie," I said. "Let's save us some world first. Dash, you still got our Extra Bold hot sauce stuck in that cloud?"

Dash fished round in the depths of the cloud-scooter and eventually emerged with the magnetic-field tankard. "Intact and powered on!" she said.

"Good. Can somepony please fetch Iggy?"

Pinkie perked, excitedly, and then vanished into the library, quite nearly leaving a trail of cotton-candy light in the air behind her. Almost instantly, she reappeared. "Got him!" she said, holding up the little ro-bot reptile amphibian thing with her forehoof. Iggy cuddled up to his creator a bit, rubbing at her cheek, and Pinkie beamed in contentment.

"All right then," I said. "Gimme that thing."

"Hold on just one second, first," said Pinkie, pulling Iggy away protectively. "Dash talked to me all about you girls's plan to burn down the evil lemon grove with little my little guy, here, and I guess that's all right, but I gotta ask... did you ever get Iggy's input on this? I specifically made him to be indestructible, but that doesn't mean that eating super-hot hot sauce is a comfortable experience for him."

"Well," I said, scratching the back of my neck with one hoof, "we ain't really had a chance to talk it over. Plus, all he makes is that squonking noise."

Pinkie clucked her tongue. "You just gotta know how to talk to him, A.J.! I insist that, before I hoof him over to you, you give me a chance to explain the entire situation to him so that he is an informed, willing participant in the events that are to come, keeping in mind that yes, as a contraptionoid, his highest purpose in life is to fulfill his core function; but notwithstanding this, he is a sapient creature, possessed of likes and dislikes independent of his purpose, and this fact alone gives him every right to refuse to be a party to any plan that integrally includes causing him great discomfort, no matter how noble its aim!"

"How long will that take?"

"Not long," said Pinkie. She fixed Iggy with a look. "Squonk?"

Iggy thought this over for a second.

"SQUONK."

Pinkie smiled. "Iggy understands," she said, passing him to me.

"Good," I said. "Now, Pinkie, the very last thing I need from you is the keys to your science project."

"Sorry, huh?"

"Your project!" I said. "The thing you made for the science fair! The link between balloons and laughter! All this time, you've been keeping your cards close and not telling anypony what it is, but the time for that's over now. Turns out you're just about the smartest of us girls, Pinks – second to Twilight – and you're sure as shootin' the best contraptionologist. You told me yourself you were finished with it. And this here's the last push. I expect some serious resistance from Discord when we close in on his stronghold, and we're gonna need every advantage we can get. We need your project, Pinkie, whatever it is."

"Silly Jackie," said Pinkie. "You've already got my project! It's right here!"

"Where?" I demanded. "Where is your project, Pinkie?"

She sighed. "I want to talk to you about it, A.J," she said. "I really do. But I just can't. I Pinkie-Promised Twilight."

"Dangit!" I said, stamping the ground. "I knew I was forgetting to ask something while I was in there! Listen, Pinks, I'm sure Twilight'd release you from that. Given everything, I mean."

"Unfortunately, we can't verify your claim, since my lemonade pitcher doesn't have a little speaker on it," said Pinkie. "As neat-o-riffic of an idea as that might be. And I can't really speak Brain, so, still gotta say no."

"Pinkie," I said, impatiently. "This is Equestria we're talking about."

Pinkie stiffened her lip. Her voice got solemn.

"If Equestria needs me to break a Pinkie Promise in order for me to save it," she said, "then maybe it doesn't deserve to be saved."

I shook my head. "You're something else, Pinks," I said. "All right, we'll go it alone. You stay here, tend to Spike and Brain-in-a-Pitcher Twilight and the Flat and Powerless Trixie over there. Maybe see if them bees have left Rarity alone. Dash and me are gonna go try and toss a rope around the world."

I squeezed my eyes shut, then, and leaned up against the cloud-scooter.

"You okay there, horse?" said Dash, tenderly.

"I don't rightly know," I said. "I mean... we're still okay. We're all still alive. But this was a crazy long shot plan from the get-go. Just because we've made it so far, don't mean neither diddly nor squat. I ain't smart, girls. I ain't a good leader. Heck, we wouldn'ta had to even deal with Trixie at all if I'd have just let Rainbow run off to Canterlot in the first place and got the Princess to hold off on the sunset, something I didn't even think of at the time. I been botching this job from moment one, and I just... I just wish I had some kind of sign that all this 'million-to-one odds' horse hockey we been doing is gonna turn out for the best."

"Ooh, look here!" said Pinkie, stumbling over something and then holding it up for us to see. "Look what I found!"

I looked over there. My jaw fell open.

When you think of all the things that had to have happened, it was downright ridiculous. First off, it had to have gotten snagged on a sticky-outy thing, just like Rarity initially hypothesized. Then, it had to withstand the pull of a barely-subsonic gravity beam for about five constant hours. Then, it had to first survive the Sonic Rainbuck, then the explosion of the entire gemstone furnace it was hanging over, which like as not would have tossed it about a mile in the air. And even if, by some miracle, it survived all that, well, it's a big wide world out there. One good gust of wind, one billowing updraft from the fires of decimated Ponyville, one simple hundred-yard shove, and I might never have seen it again, lost as it'd be in the rocks of the Canterlot foothills for all eternity.

But after surviving all that, it had fallen here, right here, square at Pinkie's hooves.

"Hey, A.J.!" laughed Rainbow, pointing. "Lookit! It's your hat!"

And it was. Old Reliable, in the cloth. A little singed. A little smoky. A little injured, but for all that, absolutely unbroken. Just like its owner.

"Here ya go!" said Pinkie, simply, tossing it over to me. I caught it without a thought, and in one swift motion, dropped it on my head, where it settled in just like it'd never left.

I hopped up onto the cloud-scooter, springs in my hooves. My eyes were bright in the darkness.

"All right, Dash," I said, cradling my ro-botic reptilian weapon of choice and settling in. "Let's burn us some trees."

"You got it, boss," said Dash, grinning and kicking the scooter to life.

And we were off.