“Ma! I’m heading out, all right?” Scootaloo was standing at the front door as she yelled to her mother in the other room. “The snow’s finally cleared up, so I’m gonna go hang out outside.”

Scootaloo could hear her mother shuffling around as she replied, “Make sure you’ve got your hat and scarf. I don’t want you getting hypothermia, or frostbite, or pneumonia… or the clap.”

“The what?”

“Nevermind! Just make sure to dress properly. And don’t talk to any strangers!”

Scootaloo waved her hoof, even though her mother couldn’t see it. “Don’t worry, Ma. I’ll be fine.” Throwing open the door, Scootaloo stepped out into the chill air, muttering, “Scarves are for babies and old ponies,” under her breath.

She took in a deep breath through her nose, relishing the feel of the crisp air in her lungs. Glancing up at the beautifully cloudless sky, she grinned. “Man, it feels so great to be out in this cold with no protective clothing. I feel something weird happening in my stomach.” She ran a hoof over her belly, trying to calm the family of butterflies that had recently taken up residence there. “What is this? It almost feels like… like I have to sing.” Her grin split into a wide smile. “Yeah! I feel it in my gut. A song’s coming on!”

As Scootaloo started skipping down the street, she felt as if some outside force was compelling her to sing. So, not wanting to give it any trouble, she obliged.

Scootaloo leapt on a nearby park bench, ignoring the cries of protest from the old stallion she was standing on.

Grumbling, the crotchety old stallion stood up and hobbled away. Scootaloo shrugged, stepping off the bench.

Scootaloo leapt into the air, tossing her scarf and hat to the side.

With her smile beaming like a lighthouse beacon, Scootaloo trotted through the town, waving at random ponies and giving strangers cheery winks. Most of them just looked away.

She turned down a different street to avoid the nameless pegasus and jumped right back into the chorus.

As Scootaloo skipped down the side street, she felt a gust of wind blow by. She shivered, suddenly feeling a bit cold.

Throwing her hooves wide, Scootaloo dove right into the chorus as she did a pirouette in the middle of the street. All the ponies passing by averted their gaze, or pretended not to notice.

Coming out of the chorus, Scootaloo fluttered her wings, making her hop just a bit, before she continued on walking. She wandered off towards the park, still caught in the song, though all the while feeling a nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

Just as Scootaloo was about to start the chorus again, she was wracked by a fit of coughing. She was doubled over a nearby trashcan, hacking her lungs into it. When she finally had calmed down, Scootaloo muttered to herself, “Maybe we’ll skip the chorus this time…” Of course that didn’t stop her from moving on to the next verse, although she was admittedly a bit more lethargic this time around.

Reaching what she was increasingly sure would be her last chorus, Scootaloo started dragging herself along the ground, no longer able to walk. Darkness closed in all around her as she managed to squeeze out a few more bars.

Scootaloo never finished the last word. She died of hypothermia before she could finish. And somewhere deep in her subconscious, in the far reaches or her mind, she could hear her mother’s voice echoing. “This is why you always listen to your mother.” Then she died in the middle of a crowded street with no one really paying much attention.