Pinkie Pie and Applejack walk down the cobblestone path leading to the Royal Canterlot Academy of Supernatural Defense. The scenery of eager students, lush grass, healthy flowers and fine architecture would have been a wonderful sight for Pinkie Pie if she had not had a burning palm shaped red mark on her face that not even a bottle of cold soda can cure.

“I leave you alone for one minute and you go and puke on somebody,” says Applejack, shaking her head in disappointment. “Do you know how hard it is to clean off puke with tap water and paper towels?”

“I'm sorry, but it wasn't my fault. You know I get queasy when I see puke and roaches,” says Pinkie Pie defensively.

“So you're saying the girl you puked on looks like a roach?”

Pinkie Pie snorts. “No, but she certainly acted like one.”

“Probably because you puked on her.”

Pinkie Pie glares at Applejack. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

Applejack rolls her eyes up, humming thoughtfully. “Hmm... Nah.”

Right as Applejack says that simple word, an obnoxious set of trumpets blare, overtaking the chatter and freezing all movements and conversations. The crowd turns and Pinkie Pie whistles, impressed with what she is seeing, whereas Applejack frowns and shakes her head, and the rest of the crowd exchanges confused looks.

Standing in front of a sleek personal craft shaped as an arrowhead with a single fat engine in the back is a pair of large men in suits, which can barely contain their bulging muscles. The men share the craft's azure color and purple racing stripes, but their suits are blue and their ties are purple. They are also wearing a silver star on their tie, which is also painted on the door of the craft, and they are holding polished trumpets.

“Make way! Make way for the Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon!” shouts one of the men.

The craft's door slides open and a young woman around Pinkie's age steps out, nose in the air and a purple case with a silver star stamped on it. Her black, shin high boots clap the cobblestone ground and her star studded, purple cape held around her neck by a silver gem flutters behind her, just barely staying off the ground. Her white long sleeve, blouse is partially covered by a blue vest and her jeans emphasis the curves of her legs and thighs, just like the shirt and vest draw eyes to her chest and curvy body. There is also a wand tipped with a silver, five point star with a purple gem in its center, and Trixie's curled, silver hair flows dramatically in the wind.

Trixie stops between the two men and stares at the crowd, and she stares back at them, smiling with alluring eyes and perfect teeth. Then she holds out her hand and a third overly large man slides next to her and places a pointed, purple hat with a large brim and covered in stars in her hand, which she puts on without hesitation. Then a fourth muscle man comes out, pushing an elegant cart loaded with expensive luggage.

“Holy crap,” says Drake Firewall, who is next to Pinkie Pie. “I have porn of her.”

Pinkie Pie and Applejack slowly look at him, and next to Applejack, another new student walks up. Her purple hair is curled, has blue eye shadow and purple sunglasses with a lightweight, long sleeve blouse and a knee length black skirt with a black belt that has a gold buckle. Behind her, a not so muscular man is pushing a not as extravagant cart with less luggage than Trixie.

“Who on earth does she think she is, walking in like that?” says the student.

Applejack shrugs. “I reckon somebody who's got too much ego for their own good.”

Pinkie Pie rubs her chin and her eyes focus on Trixie's wand, taking mental notes on the grooves and collection of buttons. When Trixie starts walking, she blinks and watches how the steps are heavy and realizes that the boots are large on the front, and has no shoe laces, for it is held on by zippers and Velcro.

“Its freaking, Trixie, man!” shouts a random guy in the crowd, and with those words, the crowd gasps as one and surges forward, chatting excitedly with pens, papers and pictures at the ready.

Meanwhile, Pinkie, Applejack and the new girl stay put, watching with mixed expressions as Trixie is crowded with pens and paper and shouts all around her. This makes her smug smile impossibly more so.

“By the way, I want to thank you for helping me clean off my shirt after your friend puked all over me,” says the new girl. “I still had to throw the shirt away, but at least you tried helping me.”

Pinkie Pie stiffens and looks out of the corner of her eye. Seeing the glare of the two women next to her makes her regret that decision rather quickly.

“It was no problem,” says Applejack, her eyes still on Pinkie Pie.

“Glad to hear, but I would like to repay you, somehow,” says the new girl.

Applejack looks at the new girl. “You don't have to do that.”

“Oh, but I insist. A dinner, perhaps?”

Applejack cringes and rubs the back of her neck, her eyes unable to look at anything. “Eh, well, I...uh..”

“Excellent! My name is Rarity and here's my phone number, so you can give me a call whenever you want that dinner.” The new girl gives Applejack a business card and smiles brightly at her. “And what's your name and phone number?”

“Applejack, and I don't got a phone.”

Rarity's smile fades. “How can you not have a phone? That's like walking around without a piece of your brain!”

“I got a phone!” blurts Pinkie Pie, and she slides next to Rarity and whips it out, grinning with lidded eyes. “And I'd like to exchange numbers and get dinner from you, too.”

Rarity frowns. “You puked on me.”

“That was so forty five minutes ago.”

“Yes, well-” Rarity clears her throat and slides Pinkie Pie out of the way so she can see Applejack “-I must be off. Applejack, you got my number, so feel free to contact me whenever you wish.”

“Right,” says Applejack slowly.

“Toodaloo!”

And then Rarity leaves with her assistant, leaving Applejack and Pinkie Pie alone in the courtyard, confused, and after a few seconds of silence Pinkie Pie snickers and nudges Applejack in the ribs.

“You're someone's eye candy, farmer girl,” says Pinkie Pie.

Applejack rolls her eyes. “Just because she gave me her phone number, asked me for mine and offered me dinner does not mean I am her crush.”

“Uh, huh, sure.”

“You there!” barks another voice, prompting the two to look at the source. It is none other than Trixie Lulamoon, herself, marker in hand and hand red. “Do you two wish to have Trixie's autograph?”

Pinkie Pie and Applejack exchange looks, then look at Trixie.

“I don't know,” says Pinkie Pie, “are you famous?”

“Very,” says Trixie.

“Then sign my face!”

Applejack does a double take and Trixie shrugs and with quick strokes her autograph goes all over Pinkie Pie's forehead. The whole time Pinkie Pie giggles, and when Trixie is done she caps her marker, stuffs it in her pocket, takes an ice pack from one of her escorts and starts walking.

“There. Done. Ciao, peasants,” says Trixie.

“Hey, wait a second!” hollers Pinkie Pie.

Trixie and her entourage stare at Pinkie Pie as she hugs Applejack around the waist and presses her body against hers.

“What is wrong with you?” says Pinkie Pie. “You give all those people autographs and sign my face, but you completely ignore my amazing cousin? How thoughtless.”

“What? Trixie is full of thought!”

“Then prove it and sign her face, too.”

“Fine, Trixie will prove it!”

Trixie uncaps her marker and extends her hand towards Applejack's face, and in turn, Applejack holds out her hand against Trixie's head, blocking her advancement.

“No, you ain't signing my face,” says Applejack as she slides away from Pinkie Pie without taking her hand off of Trixie.

Trixie frees herself from Applejack after some struggle. “Trixie will sign whoever she pleases. Now, give me your face!”

“No!”

Trixie lunges at Applejack, and Applejack bats Trixie's hand away, but the smaller girl is persistent, and in a few very fast seconds the blocking and maneuvering turns into a slap happy mess. Hands whip at each other in blurs and both women growl or yell with their faces turned away from each other and eyes closed. While this happens, Pinkie Pie slides next to one of the men and flashes a big smile with half lidded eyes.

“Hey, there, stud, do you like parties?” asks Pinkie Pie.

“I'm not allowed to talk to strangers,” says the man.

Pinkie's smile remains, but her eye twitches. “Oh.”

Applejack and Trixie shriek, and when Pinkie Pie looks at them she sees that their hands are really flying and both of their faces and hairs are red and disheveled, and their hats laying on the ground. Then Trixie's boot suddenly collides with Applejack's shin, and she swears and drops her hands to clutch her shin, putting her hopping on one foot. Trixie then takes the opportunity to sign Applejack's forehead, and she smiles proudly, albeit with very aggravated eyes and chest heaving from her panting.

“Ha! Signed your face!” Trixie puts away her marker, grabs her hat and turns to Pinkie Pie, face red and hand appearing to be throbbing. “There. Happy?”

Pinkie Pie gives her a thumbs-up and a smile with a wink. “Yep!”

“I'm not,” grumbles Applejack while picking up her hat.

“Good,” sighs Trixie. “Now Trixie will need a salt bath for her hands.”

Trixie then hurries away with her group, and Applejack glares at Pinkie Pie, growling through her teeth, and Pinkie Pie giggles and waves farewell. Not that Trixie can see, anyway, since her back is turned. Though, when Pinkie Pie gets wind of Applejack's demeanor, her smile changes and her giggle degrades to a nervous chuckle.

“Nice tat,” says Pinkie Pie.

Minutes later, Applejack and Pinkie Pie enter a large auditorium with a stage in the front, travel cases still in their possession, and the autographs mostly wiped from their faces. There are still black streaks on them, but they figured it will not be a crime to leave a little bit of mess on them. What is a crime, however, is being late for the orientation. Which is what they were. Thankfully they got in just in time, but due to their last minute arrival they are forced to take a spot in the the back. Applejack really does not seem to mind, and Pinkie Pie definitely does not mind since she can see everything. The students are still quite excited, and Pinkie Pie can see Trixie and Rarity in the crowd, as well as vomit boy and Drake. Though, rather than conversing with the familiar faces, Pinkie Pie looks around the room.

Its domed ceiling is a few stories high and has rings of pulsating lights around it. Large screens and speakers circle around the room, too, and the tall windows are currently covered by dark curtains. On the stage are six guards, standing stiff with their hands clamped behind their back and rounded full body armor and full faced helmets. Two of the guards have single horns on their heads with gold plates and blue trim; the next pair are slender with blue bases and white trim, and have wing shaped jet packs; and the last two are wearing bulky, green and brown armor with apparently nothing special about them. In the middle of the guards are Celestia and Luna, and they look absolutely the same since Pinkie Pie last saw them. Outfits and all.

Celestia steps forward while Luna remains still and watchful, and when she is in the appropriate spot a microphone slides out of the floor at her level. Once it is locked in place, Celestia clears her throat, which is amplified by the surrounding speakers. This quiets the chatter.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I'll keep this brief,” says Celestia. “I am Principal Celestia Faustsend, and I welcome you to the Royal Canterlot Academy of Supernatural Defense. You have been chosen out of thousands of applicants to carry on a powerful tradition of duty, honor, selflessness and defense. You have been selected to further enhance your abilities and the knowledge of this world and its mysteries.”

The students grin and shift excitedly in their spots, and a thin smile graces Celestia's face, too.

“When I see your faces, I see excitement and eagerness, and I am glad that you feel these things,” continues Celestia, “but I must be frank. The paths you have chosen will not be easy, for being a Hunter and a Huntress will pit you against creatures and magic of dark origins. You bodies, your spirits, your will, your faith, all will be tested in the coming years, and the hard truth is that in the end, some of you will break, some of you will die, and some of you will be lost. But I promise you, this school -your new home for the next four years- will do everything it can to strengthen you so you can be strong in the face of adversary. You are our future, and we will make you worthy guardians of the people. Thank you.”

Celestia steps back, and quiet murmurs echo in the chamber while Applejack and Pinkie Pie glance at each other, the positivism now dwindled to a lower level thanks to anxiety. As this happens, Luna steps forward and adjusts the microphone so she can speak into it.

“Hello, students, I am Vice Principal Luna Fuastsend, and I, too, welcome you here,” says Luna. “Your training will begin tomorrow with a very unique activity that will determine where your skills lie, your ability to adapt and your tolerance of cooperation. I personally think it is fun, and I am sure you all will have fun with it, as well. As for today, you will spend your final moments of peace in the Barn in a big sleepover. We will be playing a few movies and offering snacks and drinks, and if you do not have a sleeping bag or pillow, we have plenty at our disposal. That is all. Dismissed.”

Luna taps the microphone and it sinks back into the stage, and the students talk quietly among themselves again. Though, now they are back to being excited, all except for Applejack, who has gotten a delightful shade of white. Pinkie Pie, on the other hand, is grinning ear to ear and vibrating in her spot.

“Oooh, a sleepover!” squeals Pinkie Pie. “This is going to be so much fun! This is like the best blackmail ever! I'm going to have so much fun! Are you going to have fun, Applejack? Applejack? Can you hear me, Applejack? Are you going to have fun, Applejack? I'm going to have fun. I'm going to have so much fun, just like you, right? Are you going to have fun?”

Holds up a finger, opens her mouth, and after a strange moment of silence she sucks in some air and says one word.

“No.”

Hours later, students are scattered across a large, open floor with dim lights hanging above them, either in pajamas or their underwear, talking or watching the movie that is being projected on the blank wall from a hanging orb. Currently it is showing a group of men and women in space, wearing red, blue and yellow shirts, all gripping their seats or a railing as the ships' deck shakes and spark. All the ones in red die a horrible fiery death, but the other colors survive with scratches and bruises. All of this is kind of hard for Pinkie Pie to see, though, since the camera is shaky and close to the actors, and the gratuitous use of lens flares is not helping.

Speaking of Pinkie Pie, she is sitting a good distance away from the screen, legs folded, mouth stuffed with popcorn and her glittering eyes focused on the film. She has on a pair of thin, pink pajama pants and a sleeveless, white shirt, and between her legs is a large bowl of popcorn and next to her is a large cup of soda, plus her empty bottle of soda from earlier. Nearby, Applejack remains mostly hidden in her red sleeping bag. Not a piece of her is exposed, but the lump that is her body ruins her nigh perfect hiding spot.

“You are missing a really great movie, Applejack,” says Pinkie Pie, spitting out chunks of half chewed popcorn everywhere as she talks.

“Already saw it. Didn't like it,” says Applejack, still staying inside her sleeping bag.

“Liar.”

“I ain't lying. This one sucks. The old one's better. No contest.”

“Then what's going to happen next?”

“How should I know?”

“Then you admit to not seeing it before.”

“What? Pinkie, I'm trying to sleep. We got that test thingy tomorrow, and staying up late with popcorn, movies and soda is a great way to mess yourself up.”

Pinkie Pie swallows her food and shakes her cup, rattling the ice cubes inside.

“Joke's on you, cousin. This is caffeine free and the popcorn is low fat. Totally healthy. I'll be perfectly fine, tomorrow,” says Pinkie Pie.

“Hardy har har. Let me sleep,” says Applejack.

Pinkie Pie shrugs and goes back to watching the movie, squinting her eyes in a feeble attempt to decipher the scene when a lens flare blocks out the dramatic faces and gritty destruction.

“Captain Smirk, Con just took out our engines! We're losing altitude!” says one of the survivors on the bridge.

The Captain sits in his chair and rubs his chin dramatically, with more sparks and flames shooting around him and the ship shaking more violently.

“I think,” says Captain Smirk slowly and dramatically, “we need to... possibly fire back. Put some shields up while you're at it. I'll need to think about this some more.”

There is yet another explosion on the screen, and a sudden thwak next to Pinkie Pie sends her jumping in her spot, spilling her popcorn and knocking over her drink. She blinks at the rolled sleeping bag that has landed next to her, and she looks up to see Trixie standing above her, arms folded across her chest and her body covered by a light blue, button up shirt and pants of the same color. She also has bandages on her hands and her hair is a mess while her face is damp.

“Oh great,” huffs Trixie, “the one open spot is next to a slob. But I suppose it will do for now.”

Pinkie Pie is quick to pick up her popcorn and drink, and she watches Trixie with some curiosity and resentment as she unrolls her sleeping bag and fluffs up her pillow. When she is done, she too crawls inside, pulls the flap over her head and goes still. Pinkie Pie looks at Trixie, then around the crowded barn, and then back at Trixie again.

“Where did you come from?” asks Pinkie Pie.

“Trixie is above your questions,” replies Trixie swiftly.

“Did I just hear the ego maniac?” asks Applejack.

Trixie snaps up, glaring daggers all around. “Who just called me an ego maniac?”

“I did,” says Applejack, having yet to reveal herself from her sleeping bag.

Trixie leans over so she can peek behind Pinkie Pie, and she frowns when she sees the lump that is Applejack.

“Are you too cowardly to insult me to my face?” says Trixie.

Pinkie Pie gently pushes Trixie back into her original spot. “Don't worry about my cousin. She has been in that sleeping bag the whole time we've been here.” She then leans forward and whispers obnoxiously loud. “She sleeps in the nude.”

Trixie's face flares red and all the young men around them stop talking and turn to Applejack's sleeping bag, suddenly intrigued. Some even lean a little bit closer with perverted grins and hums.

“I do not!” says Applejack defensively.

“Then get out of your sleeping bag and insult Trixie face to face,” says Pinkie Pie.

“... No.”

Trixie snorts and goes back into her sleeping bag. “Whatever. Trixie needs her beauty rest so she can perform at peak capacity tomorrow.”

Right as Trixie is back to being comfortable, a certain purple haired student with a white gown steps over Trixie apologizing along the way. Trixie curses under her breath and watches the student, as does Pinkie Pie, as she lays in front of Applejack's sleeping bag.

“Hello, Applejack, do you remember me?” says Rarity.

Applejack's groan is muffled from the fluff of the sleeping bag. “Yes, I remember you, Rarity.”

Pinkie Pie snickers and turns to Trixie, who is still watching the two students.

“Trixie. Hey, Trixie, look,” says Pinkie Pie.

Trixie huffs and reluctantly looks at Pinkie Pie, and when she does, Pinkie Pie rubs her palms together and waggles her brows with a strange smile stretched across her face.

Trixie arches a brow. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Pinkie Pie stops rubbing her palms together and cocks her head quizzically. “You don't know what rubbing palms means?”

“No. Are you cold? Because if you are, tough crap. I don't cuddle unless I get something out of it.”

“Like a prostitute?”

Trixie scoffs in disgust and goes back in her sleeping bag, her back turned to Pinkie Pie. “Goodnight, weirdo.”

“My name is Pinkie Pie, not weirdo.”

Trixie folds her pillow over her head. “Whatever. Goodnight.”

After a little bit of silent staring, Pinkie Pie shrugs, wishes Trixie a good night, and then resumes watching the movie. It is now on a scene of the Captain fighting a buff, scarred man wearing a fur outfit and a cloak. Both men are bloody and dirty, but still managing crazy swings and cheesy dialogue in the ship's engine room.

“My super mind and strength is superior to your inferior mind and strength!” says the fur man.

“You're only superior in the ways of evil, Con!” says Captain Smirk.

Pinkie Pie giggles and shoves a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “Man, I love this movie.”

Meanwhile, Rarity tries to peek inside Applejack's sleeping bag, but a fluffy pillow blocks all views inside.

“Aren't you hot in there?” asks Rarity.

“I'm fine,” says Applejack.

“Oh. Well, anyway, I was just wondering what restaurants you prefer. Or what your favorite food is. I got a lot of coupons and I want you to have the best thank you dinner possible,” says Rarity.

“Steak, potatoes, beer.”

“Oh... You don't want anything... better?”

“You can't get better than steak, potatoes and beer.”

“Of course you can! Why, I know about this amazing Crystal restaurant on Sunset and Shimmer that I know you will love. It is a bit pricey, but the food is fantastic.”

“I don't do fancy.”

“Well, surely you'd like to try fancy at least once.”

Trixie turns her body so she can stare viciously at Rarity. “Hey, save the flirting for another time! Some of us are trying to sleep!”

Rarity glares at Trixie. “Well, pardon us for having a conversation.”

“You aren't pardoned. Now shut up so I can sleep!”

Rarity makes a whiny scoff. “How rude. Do you speak to your parents with that mouth?”

Trixie growls. “If this sleeping bag wasn't so comfortable, I would get out of it and smack you.”

“Oh, yes. I would hate for you to get out of your comfort zone,” says Rarity.

“Lady, you are just asking to get slapped to next week.”

The two then start bickering like hens, and Pinkie Pie sighs and shakes her head, and tries to focus on the movie again. Now Captain Smirk and Con are falling through the atmosphere, clutching each other in a death grip and going bloody face to bloody face. The wind rushes past their faces, and the ship falls behind them with chunks of flaming debris breaking and spiraling off from pockets of explosions, and in the background with a ridiculous flare is a setting sun.

“Well, Con, it looks like we're about to die together. What do you have to say for yourself?” says Smirk.

Con smirks. “Stupid Captain, I always have a plan.”

Con then holds up a cylinder, pops the cap open to reveal a red button, and when he pushes it his body begins to break apart in colorful swirls with happy jingles mixing with the rushing wind.

“Peace, jackass!” says Con.

And then he disappears, leaving Smirk in free fall, and the Captain sighs and shakes his head.

“Well, shit,” says Smirk. “It looks like I'm in for a world of hurt.”