Zecora Rap Battles

“Come on, Zecora,” said Twilight Sparkle, motioning with her hoof. “We’ve got the stage set up right in front of the town hall.”

Zecora sighed and followed suit. “Remind me, please, my dearest friend, why I’ve agreed to this event.”

“Fund-raising,” said Twilight. “Helping out the town. Ponyville’s budget is a little in the red right now, so the Mayor has asked me to work out alternative methods of procuring funds. We’ve already done carnivals, rodeos, and petting zoos, and... well... there wasn’t a lot left after that.”

“Yes, I know what this is about,” said Zecora. “And yet, I have some certain doubts...”

“Please, Zecora?” Twilight begged. “If this doesn’t happen, we’re not going to have enough money for Nightmare Night this year. And I know you like speaking at Nightmare Nights.”

Zecora thought about that. She did so like speaking at Nightmare Night, and it would have been a shame to see it canceled because of her. She sighed again. “It isn’t in my heart to gripe, but still I fear a stereotype.”

“Don’t worry,” said Twilight, who had developed the faintest hint of a blush. “It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

Zecora rather hoped that would be true.

Town square was packed with ponies, all crowded in front of the stage that had been set up in front. The fliers had been all around Ponyville yesterday, and now they were eager for the promised show. Especially so, since the tickets were all non-refundable.  

Mayor Mare stepped out onto the stage. An enormous golden chain was hanging from her neck, jangling to and fro as she looked over the audience. “‘Sup, homecolts,” she said, raising her microphone up. “Are all of ya’ll paw-nies ready to witness some of the greatest rhymes in the history of time?”

The crowd cheered mightily. Zecora, who was standing backstage, winced. “This is not the sort of zebra I am. Oh, what have I done to get into this jam?”

“Then give it up for Zecooooraaaaa!” shouted Mayor Mare. “Resident rap master of Ponyviiiiiille!” Most of the crowd screamed in anticipation. A few screamed in fear.

“You’re up, Zecora,” said Twilight, pushing Zecora through the curtains. “Break a leg!”

Zecora stumbled out onto the stage, feeling thoroughly uncomfortable. She waved a hoof at the audience and tried to smile.

“And the challenger!” said Mayor Mare. “The pony who don’t need no introduction! Applejaaaaaack!”

There were screams again as Applejack stepped up from the crowd. Relatively few were in fear.

“Challenger starts!” called Mayor Mare, holding an extra microphone out to Applejack.

“Good luck, Zecora,” said Applejack. “You’ll need it, Ah reckon.”

The speakers were fired up and a beat was put on. Applejack nodded her head to it for a second, then held the mic up.

“Here we are now, and Ah’m pretty sure you know me,

Name’s Applejack, yeah, the number one pony.

Spittin’ sick lyrics is like spittin’ apple seeds,

And Ah'm sure this here zebra can’t match up to mah deeds.

Element of Honesty, Ah’ve saved the world twice.

So you say you brew some potions? Well, Ah guess that’s sorta nice.

Now get out of here, Zecora, or Ah’ll buck you like a tree,

‘Cause you know that you can’t roll with the Apple fam-i-lyyyyy!”

The crowd hooted and the ground rumbled with applause. “Your turn, Zecora,” said Applejack.

Zecora took a few breaths to calm her nerves. Not that she was intimidated by Applejack. She wasn’t. She was a little more concerned with the manner in which she was being exploited for “fund-raising” purposes. All these... ponies... staring at her like some sort of exotic animal...

For Nightmare Night, Zecora decided. She took careful note of the beat and raised her own mic to her lips. For Nightmare Night.

“It seems you are a pony with a head full of fruit,

A quite-healthy body, but no brain to boot.

Perhaps if some thinking, you would bother to do,

Applebloom wouldn't be smarter than you!

Yes, I am good with potions, I would say I'm the best,

And I do not need a trinket to prove I am honest.

A lie makes a liar, as I am quite sure you know,

So how did you do at the last rodeo?”

The crowd oohed. "Sick burn,'" the Mayor whispered. Then to the crowd she said, "I think it can be agreed that the contest so far has been 'tight.' Now who's ready for round two?"

"Round two?" asked Applejack nervously. "Nopony told me there was goin' to be a round two. Ah wasn't told about any round two!"

She accepted the mic from Mayor Mare, but did nothing with it. A minute passed. Another minute passed...

"Uh..." she tried.

"Get on with it!" shouted a voice from the crowd. A number of boos chorused in agreement.

Zecora, smelling the blood in the water, followed up with another verbal assault.

"There is not a use in coming up with a line,

When your countryside accent is even thicker than mine!

If you are not here to rap, then you had better go home,

So make like an apple tree and leaf us alone!"

Applejack laughed and dropped her mic. "Shucks, Zecora," she said. "Ah know when Ah'm beat. Your win."

"I think it's obvious who whupped who there!" said the Mayor as Applejack walked off the stage. "Give Zecora a round of fresh applause!" The crowd chanted Zecora's name and shouts were heard asking for encores.

For Nightmare Night, Zecora repeated.

"And now," said Mayor Mare. "The next challenger: Raaaaaritttttyyyy!"

More applause as Rarity stepped up. Zecora was beginning to suspect that this audience was far too excitable and easy to please.

"Good luck to you, dear," said Rarity, picking up Applejack's mic with her magic. "That's the sporting thing to say in these sorts of contests, isn't it?"

"Challenger start!" called Mayor Mare.

A fresh beat was dropped. As Applejack before her had done, Rarity nodded in time with it, setting her internal metronome to the rhythm. When at last she was ready, the mic went up.

"Here to help a charity

The challenger, it's Rarity

Assisting with a fund-raiser

Bring the town prosperity

It's quite a lovely afternoon

Sunny days inspiring

I will end this quickly soon

As rapping's rather tiring

So I shall drop the mic now

And let Zecora go

Hope she does well anyhow

And that you enjoyed the show!

Immediately the crowd erupted into booing and hissing.

"You were supposed to insult her!" cried some of the mares in front.

"Insult her?" said Rarity, looking scandalized. "A lady does not stoop to such barbarous behavior!"

"Did we pay money for this?" shouted a stallion in the back.

"I sure hope you did!" Rarity shot back. "This is a fund-raiser, after all!"

Prudently, Mayor Mare pushed Rarity backstage. "Well, uh," she said, trying her best to mollify the poisonous crowd. "That was Rarity!" She turned to Zecora. "Would you like to...?"

"No," said Zecora.

"Zecora wins by... default... yo," said Mayor Mare, fiddling with her massive gold chain. The crowd did not seem to enjoy that.

"Give us our money back!" they yelled.

"Now, now," said the Mayor, going white as a sheet. "There are still some more 'dope' challengers for Zecora." She looked around. "Is Fluttershy anywhere?"

Twilight Sparkle's head peeked out from backstage. "Watching a butterfly migration," she said.

The crowd did not look happy with that news either.

"R-Rainbow Dash?" asked the Mayor, now visibly sweating.

"Butterfly migration."

"That doesn't sound like Rainbow Dash!"

Twilight shrugged.

"I say we get a refund for this!" declared a pony in the crowd, and soon the crowd erupted into chants of "Refund! Refund!" A small group of enterprising unicorns had begun to pass out matchsticks, which would presumably do as well at burning things as full-sized torches.

The Mayor appeared thoroughly distressed. "Um... Ah.... Give it up for our newest challenger: Twiiiiliiiight Spaaaaaaaarkle!" She grabbed Twilight from backstage and pulled her to the front.

"I — what?" said Twilight.

"Rhyme for our lives' sake!" begged the Mayor.

A new beat began to play, but unlike Applejack and Rarity before her, Twilight did not have time to acquaint herself with it. Instead, she grabbed the mic and immediately began rapping.

"Uh, here we are now, and it's sort of inconspicuous,

You say you're the best rapper, Zecora, but that's probably ridiculous.

I mean, it hasn't been independently confirmed by a group of experts in the field,

So probably your claims are spurious and... to that statement you should yield.

I don't know anything about rapping except what I've read,

But I can string rhymes together until you're metaphorically dead,

Which should tell you something.

Your ability to hang with me, I deem highly suspicious,

So I think you've lost, Zecora, 'cause I am very Twilightlicious!

Zecora felt just about ready to cry after hearing that. She had never been moved to tears by pity before, but Twilight's rhyming came terribly close to that threshold. Ponyville had been pairing her against awful rappers all day. If they were going to stereotype her because she was a zebra, they could have at least bothered to get the stereotypes right. But no. Apparently nopony in Ponyville knew the first thing about rapping, and they hadn't even bothered to learn.

Much as Zecora wanted to wear that old gray wig with the plastic spiders in it for Nightmare Night, she was willing to admit that sitting through this wasn't worth it.

"I am not going to dignify that with a reply," she said. "And please rap no more, Twilight, or I would rather die."

The ponies in the crowd, having lit up their matches, apparently agreed with this. With slow, methodical intent, they advanced on the stage, preparing to burn it to the ground.

"Do something, Zecora!" the Mayor pleaded.

Zecora did nothing. "I could not care less," she said frankly.

She stepped off the stage just as the angry mob began setting fire to the curtains, and began walking back to her hut in the Everfree Forest. She did not look back for all the Mayor's cries of how much the stage had cost the town, or the crowd's cheering now that the terrible rap battles were over. She heard the burning stage collapse in on itself, but did not look back for that either. Indeed, she was glad to have left that far behind.

Zecora did look back for one thing, however: a shrill voice that rose just above the rest of the crowd. There was rhythm, and meter, and flow to that voice. Such that it sounded almost like rapping:

"She's an evil enchantress,

She does evil dances,

And if you look deep in her eyes,

She'll put you in trances..."

Zecora shed a single tear of joy. "Mad respect, Miss Pinkie Pie," she said, and she kept on walking.