The chapter opened with a description of the location. It was, loosely, a relatively swampy area of the forest in a clearing where the swamp bubbled both upward and downward and where mound-like clumps grew out of the moist earth.

With a shout, Buttery Snake dropped into a large galvanized bucket. He looked to his left, and saw the yellow-clad figure who had transported him return to the ground, the plant matter corroding and dying in response to his presence. The King repositioned himself, and then stood perfectly still, watching, the broken chain of Tartaran metal around his neck slowly blowing in the breeze.

“Ah,” said Discord, who was sitting in a slightly larger galvanized metal pail across from Buttery Snake. “Well, it seems you made it. Or at least most of you did.”

“Did my legs come off again?” Buttery Snake looked down, and saw that they had. They were probably running around somewhere, and he was jealous. His legs always had so much fun without him. Still, there was no time to wait for them to come back, so he simply grew a new pair.

“Because Chaos magic,” he said, justifying himself as he tipped over, saturating him with the fluid inside. “Eew. I now lack dryiness.”

“Well,” said Discord. “At least you didn’t end up in the spittoon.”

“We have a spittoon? Wait…you chew tobacco? Comrade, your wife is going to kill you.”

“My wife is not here right now,” said Discord, his bucket converting into a stone model of his long-winged demon wife. He sat on her back like a bench, stroking her stone mane. “Oh, my,” he said. “I certainly know how that feels.”

“D, I’m glad to see you, but, come on! I was about to give some mortal the story-sticking of his life!”

Discord frowned. “Don’t do that,” he sighed. “If you keep making fluffy meta jokes, well, we simply won’t pass moderation. And nobody wants that.”

“Nopony,” corrected Buttery Snake. He picked up his bucket and sat back in it, although this time it was filled with warm maple syrup. “Hey look, I’m a pancake.”

“Indeed you are,” said Discord, levitating and slithering through the vaguely luminescent swamp gas. Dingy swamps were not exactly his thing, but Vale seemed to like that sort of thing, which made sense for a demon queen. “Perhaps I should feed you to Has?”

Buttery Snake looked at the King. He had still not moved, not even slightly.

“But regardless, and irregardless, which I am told is not a word, why did you bring me all the way out here? I mean, with this much Chaos in one spot, I’m surprised we haven’t summoned a quantum downpoker or something.”

“Then let’s make it brief,” said Discord, dropping a pair of the garment in question on Buttery Snake’s head. “Thebe has finally snapped. I’m sure you felt it.”

“Felt it? I got blown to bits somewhere in Delamare- -or what used to be Delamare.”

“So you understand the importance, then? And she’s hardly even finished!”

“Or Norwegian!”

“Her golems are marching all over the land! Not just in the Forest, but in her own cities! She’s wiping ponies out in city after city!”

“Oh. That’s not good.”

“Not good?” Discord frowned. “To be honest, Buttery, I thought you would be more concerned about this. I mean, billions have died, and I don’t think she’s going to stop until she’s the last thing living on this world. I mean, you are a pony.”

“I was a pony,” noted Buttery Snake. “And I was happy as a lawyer. Then Luna just had to gut me. Which was actually your fault.”

“My bad.”

“No probs. Besides, who needs guts anyway?”

He rose from the jar of peanut butter that he had been resting in, and projected a bench in the air, one made solidly out of feathers. He then sat on the ground next to it. “But Thebe isn’t our only problem, D. We’ve also got those things.”

“Things?” asked Discord, confused. He sat down on the bench over Buttery Snake. “What ‘things’? And how could it possibly be worse than Thebe?”

“Tall things. Walk around on two legs, complain a lot. Like to kill things. Ring any bells?”

“No,” said Discord.

“There a big problem, actually. I just met one. The thing was saturated with Order. As in about how saturated your wife’s wings are with lice.” Discord shivered. He knew that it was actually true. “Near as I can figure, they are made out of ponies. Some sort of poorly-explained magic. And get this: they can use Chaos.”

The swampy clearing went silent, and Discord and his former apprentice stared at each other for a moment. The King continued to watch, and neither of the other two could tell what he thought.

“How well?” asked Discord.

“Terribly,” said Buttery Snake, producing a shovel and beginning to dig his own grave in the mud. He was immortal, of course, but he liked to have a few spare graves around just in case. “Absolutely no creativity. No drive. Not even good spells.”

“Well, if you must know, I do have the worst time spelling,” said Discord, releasing a number of bees. He then serioused. “But that does make sense. I mean, with Thebe being…Thebe, except all over everybody. I assumed it was simply a pretext to start back up the war with the Forest, but if she’s fighting these…”

“Vandrares,” said Buttery Snake, now mostly submerged in the moist mound he had managed to dig. “Although they are actually huma- -”

“Now, now,” said Discord, checking his watch. “The question is, what exactly are we going to do about all this?” A mop and bucket appeared near him, and he picked out the mop and stabbed it into the air, fencing an invisible foe. “I mean, it usually comes down to us to clean up their messes.”

“As long as there are no windows,” said Buttery Snake, crawling into Discord’s mop bucket.

“Indeed. But that’s why I gathered all three of us. The Chaos of Equestria. Even if I absolutely hate Has. I mean, Has, go die. I seriously want you to die. Now.” He reached into the bucket that Buttery Snake was occupying and removed a multicolored shirt from the colored dye. “Or at least dye. Yellow is a terrible color. And stay away from my wife.”

“Well,” said Buttery Snake, “aside from lusting after Satin Vale, I say we bring out the Astral Hammer. We can even pull the goblin from Gene Ward and give him an impractical sword. Then we can get all epic up in here.”

Discord sighed, and poured himself a small glass of rainbow gin. “Snake, really? Nobody gets the Gloryhammer references.”

“Ponyhammer,” corrected Buttery Snake.

“Ponyhammer,” sighed Discord. He had never thought it would happen, but after several centuries, he had begun to tire or horse puns. He drained the glass from around his gin and flicked the remaining amount, causing it to become a tiny, running representation of Rainbow Dash- -but of course, that was a subject for another conversation. “Besides. Scootaloo still has the Astral Hammer in the past. And, in case you haven’t noticed, we are the Chaos Wizards.”

“You’re an izard, Buttery!” shouted Buttery Snake, jumping up from the bucket, his coat died into the color of the aforementioned antelope creature. “But in all seriousness, and in all irony, I’m lawful neutral. I can’t do squat.” He immediately started doing squats in defiance of his own declaration.

“This chapter is giving me a headache,” muttered Discord.

“Why don’t you just take Delgado there and pwn a newb?” asked Buttery Snake. “With Thebe being the newb, I mean.”

“Well,” said Discord. “Personally, I have some history with her…”

“Eew,” said Buttery Snake.

“I know. That, and Has won’t budge.” Discord snapped his fingers, and a number of budgies appeared on the yellow-robed creature’s shoulders. It actually responded, turning toward Discord and raising its own hand. It made a sign, and Discord was blown into thousands of gory bits.

The bits rained down, and as they did, they each formed an independent Discord, all in miniature. Buttery Snake picked up two.

“Now kiss…” he said, trying to force them to do so. They resisted and broke free, joining their brethren and reforming Discord.

“And he does that,” said Discord, looking down and realizing that he had put his arms on the wrong side. He disconnected them and put them in the correct places. “Chaos is supposed to be funny. Or at the very least surreal. And he won’t do anything without Vale’s permission.”

“Then tell you wife what to do.”

“One does not simply give orders to one’s wife,” said Discord, making the appropriate gesture. “And I don’t want to get her mixed up in this. She may be a demon, but I love her. With both my hearts.”

“I love your wife to. She always gives me cookies.” Buttery snake lay on his back, staring up at the eternally dark sky. “But to be honest, D. What can we do? Do you want to fight a war here?”

“If I have to. I mean, I was once reformed. And I do love ponies. You are all just so adorable.”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it. I already know the outcome, because for me it has already happened. Has happened, is happening…”

“Will happen,” said female Buttery Snake, lying beside the male one. The two looked at each other and smiled. “I’ll be seeing you later,” they both said.

“We have to do something.”

“What? If you think you can take on Thebe, go ahead. But don’t expect to win against both her and the Vandrares.”

“But we can do anything with the power of Friendship,” said Discord.

They paused, and then immediately started laughing heartily.

“Oh!” cried Buttery Snake. “You actually- -you actually said it!”

“I know!” cried Discord, rolling in the grass on the ground. “I even- -I even kept a straight face!”

Their laughter subsided after a few hours.

“So,” said Discord at last, pouring the bubble fluid into a pipe that he had summoned. “This is one of those ‘watch and wait’ things.”

“Seems like it.”

“I actually miss that,” he said. “Reminds me of back when Vale and Thebe- -”

“Not yet.”

Discord smiled. “Right.” He blew several bubbles which dropped like lead to the ground. “Let’s just hope that the second half of this particular story is less rambling than the first.”

“Yeah,” said Buttery Snake. “I’m pretty sure it will be. I think there will be a great deal more plot.”

“Plot…”

“Plot…”

They both started laughing again.

In time, though, they became serious, and then finally parted ways. Buttery Snake was as satisfied as ever, or at least as satisfied as a creature without the capacity for true thought could be. Hastur pulled himself through space, returning to Vale’s side. He had no opinion, but was prepared to do what was necessary, pulling his charge back into Tartarus should the end come as he anticipated. Unlike the other two, he actually knew the creatures that Buttery Snake spoke of, and knew that they were even worse monsters than the Carcosans.

Discord, however, remained behind for a moment. Unlike the other two, he was not satisfied. He had hoped that Buttery Snake would join him his quest. He had maintained his relative neutrality for so long, allowing the war to continue for so many centuries- -but now Thebe had gone too far. With Buttery Snake and Hastur by his side, he would have stood a chance, but he knew that alone, he was no match for Thebe, a fact that he took perverse pride in.

He had waited for a long time. First, to find friends. Then to find love. Now, he would wait to see if the land he had come to cherish would be destroyed at the hands of the last living alicorn.

“Darn,” he said, smiling. “That’s pretty dark. This whole world is so much less fun than I remember.”