While the costume did cover his face, it wasn't a full-body uniform and they still had to get him cleaned off. It wouldn't do if his mom spotted the red paint and mistook it for blood. Plus, all that trailing string could trip them up and even with the mask, leaving him foaming at the mouth wasn't a good idea either.

“So, uh...” Sweetie Belle rattled the door to Button's room. Unfortunately, it was still locked. “How are we going to get out?”

“What's that posted on the door?” Scootaloo asked.

Tacked to the wooden exit, one of the few posters that had survived the room's destruction depicted a gray-brown pony in a green shirt holding up an over-sized golden key. In big bold print were the words, 'Keys Open Doors'. Also shown were three simple diagrams picturing a key being inserted into a keyhole, turned, and the door opening.

“Ooh.” Sweetie Belle pulled out her small, bronze key and held it up in front of her. Unfortunately, this side of the door had a latch instead of a key hole. Her ears drooped. “Aw.”

“Uh, well...” Scootaloo scratched her mane. “What about the other thing?”

“Ya mean the thing above the door handle?” Apple Bloom asked, pointing at said latch.

Scootaloo nodded.

The use of simple devices was one of things that helped to distinguish ponykind above inanimate objects. The latch was a simple lever that either pointed towards the door frame when it was locked, or away when it wasn't. Operating this mechanism required a mental acuity roughly between that of putting a round peg in a round hole, and peeling banana. Apple Bloom reached up and pushed it, but she pushed it the wrong way and it didn't move. Frowning, she pushed harder and it rattled but still didn't budge.

“Augh! Why must everything be so complicated?” Twisting around, she gave the door a swift kick. With a nasty crunch, the entire lock mechanism broke free. The door swung wide, and slammed against the wall before creaking and falling off its hinges into the hallway.

“Hey! What do you think you're doing up there!?” Button's mom yelled from downstairs.

“Uh, sorry. The door was stuck,” Apple Bloom yelled back.

“At least it wasn't the wall this time.” There was some grumbling, and Love Tap smacked something downstairs. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had a brief moment to glance at each other before she started yelling again. “Your pancakes will be ready soon! Heh-heh. Don't forget to wash up!”

“We won't!” Sweetie Belle replied.

As they dragged Button's corpse to the restroom, Scootaloo said, “Huh. I thought she was going to be more upset.”

“Me too,” Apple Bloom said. “That laugh was kind of a creepy, though.”

“Whatever. Let's get this over with.” Sweetie Belle flinched as Button's head bounced against the threshold leading into the tiled bathroom, causing it to thud like a coconut. “And we should probably find some better way to carry him than dragging him by his tail.”

“Eww. I don't wanna touch him—he's dead,” Apple Bloom complained.

“And I don't want to get that red stuff on me,” Scootaloo said.

Button had left a fine red trail behind as they'd dragged his corpse across the carpeted floor through his room and the hallway. That did wonders to clean his back, and his left side after he'd slumped over, but there was still a lot of work to do if they were going to make him presentable.

The bathroom had a deep tub which also included a shower fixture. Aromatic bath salts, basaltic soap, and fancy foaming shampoo bottles lined the rim. There was even a sharp pair of scissors meant for trimming the mane and tail. With luxuries like that, they could easily get him clean in a jiffy.

Opening the toilet lid, Apple Bloom dipped in a scraggly scrub brush. She turned to Button's dead body, narrowed her eyes and grunted. “This can't be any harder than swabbin' the pigs, Ah guess.”

One horrible mess later, they'd managed to get him cleaned off by rubbing the red paint onto every towel, washcloth, and shower curtain in the room. Red hoofprints lined the walls, the floor, the cabinet under the sink, and even the mirror.

Using an expensive, vibrating shaver, they'd slowly ground through the strings tied around him. This gummed up the device horribly, leaving it a frayed, whimpering mess. It wasn't pretty, but it'd worked. After that, Apple Bloom just stuffed a sponge in his mouth to keep it from foaming.

By the time they'd carried him back out of the bathroom in his costume, he actually looked decent, despite the fact that the bathroom itself looked like the scene of several war crimes. Well, at least the bathtub was still clean.

Since lunch hadn't actually been called, Sweetie Belle stopped at the top of the stairs, and the other two joined her. They left Button Mash propped against the wall. She sniffed the air, and wrinkled her nose. “Does something smell burnt to you?”

“A little?” Scootaloo shrugged.

“I'm more worried about gettin' him past her. He's kinda limp. Even with the costume it's still obvious that somethin's wrong.” As if to emphasize Apple Bloom's point, Button started to slump over, forcing her to grab him and prop him back up.

“Well, we could—”

A musical triangle clanged from downstairs. “Lunch time! Come and get it!” Love tap shouted.

Scootaloo gulped. “—we could just wing it and hope that everything works out.”

“Coming!” Sweetie Belle yelled before helping the others pick Button back up. In order to keep him from looking completely like a rag doll, they draped his forelegs around Apple Bloom and Scootaloo's necks. That left his hind legs dragging, but there wasn't much they could do about that until they got down the stairs. Thankfully, his mom hadn't come out to greet them.

“Say, uh, are ya gonna be talkin' for him again?” Apple Bloom whispered as Button's legs went thump thump thump down the stairs.

“I don't think I can. She'll see me,” Scootaloo whispered back.

“Maybe we can sneak him past her. I'll tell her we're going to Sugarcube Corner or something.” Sweetie Belle said. Taking the lead, she bounded down the stairs.

The living room had been rearranged with the couch pushed up against the far wall and the short coffee table had been replaced with a circular folding card table. Broken up logs served as short stools, with frayed, jagged ends facing up. There was also a rocking chair, but Button's mom had her hoof on that. The odor of cinnamon mixed in with real smoke made Sweetie Belle's nostrils flare. Many of her own cooking misadventures had ended in an odor like that.

Love Tap stared at the little white unicorn with an overly-wide smile that curled up too sharply at the corners. She pointed at one of the stools, which was probably full of splinters waiting to happen. “Please, take a seat.”

“Uh...” Sweetie Belle blinked. She stood at the base of the steps and didn't approach the table. “We changed our minds. We now want ice cream, so we're going out to eat.”

Like a squall line rolling in, Love Tap's brow furrowed deeply, crushing her sunny expression. “Oh no you don't. I went through the trouble of making pancakes, so you're having pancakes.”

“But—”

“Sit.” Her fierce tone left no room for argument. When an adult talks like that to a foal, they'd better listen.

Sweetie Belle gulped and walked over to the leftmost seat. She hesitated to sit on it, as the broken, jagged edge looked less comfortable than a bed of old, rusty nails. What choice did she have? The living embodiment of authority itself was staring down on her. Taking a beep breath, she gingerly set her rump on it. The loose splinters crunched under her weight, and while the seat wasn't as bad as she'd expected, it still jabbed at her. Try as she might, she couldn't shift her weight to find a comfortable spot.

When Apple Bloom and Scootaloo poked their heads in, Sweetie Belle shrugged and shook her head. They both frowned and whispered to each other. Soon, they came shambling out with Button mashed between them. In his masked, caped costume, he was fully concealed from sight and it'd take a bit more than a keen eye to discern the fact that he was dead, they hoped.

Button's mom raised an eyebrow.

“Are you going to get the pancakes?” Sweetie Belle quickly asked. She pointed at the empty plates on the the table, then fidgeted in her seat when it poked her again.

With a laugh, the cream mare grinned from ear to ear. “Why of course. You're going to love them,” she said, emphasizing words as if she was running them over a cheese grater. With that, she released the rocking chair and walked out to the kitchen.

As soon as her back was turned, they stopped being careful and quickly dragged Button's corpse over to the table. Between the two of them, they managed to prop him up on a stool in a reasonable approximation of a sitting position, though they both had to keep a hoof on him to keep him from falling off.

Hoofsteps and humming from the kitchen heralded his mother's return, and both Scootaloo and Apple Bloom took seats on opposite sides of Button Mash. He slumped, and they quickly leaned in close to prop him back up. Sweat glistened on their hides and their faces were marred with worry lines. For her part, Sweetie Belle sat up straight with a smile on her face. It was about as hollow as the cup in front of her, but it was the thought that counted.

Pushing a cart with four covered platters, Button's mom rolled their food into the room. She picked one up and placed it in the center of the round table. Smiling with that angular grin of hers, she pulled the top off, revealing a platter of sweet, sticky, syrup-smothered acorn and whole wheat pancakes. Next to the pancakes was a rather bland-by-comparison bowl of plain, green snap peas.

“Don't they smell good?” Love Tap purred.

Despite themselves, the Crusaders couldn't help but agree. The tantalizing aroma alone was enough to make their mouths water. With her free hoof, Scootaloo reached for the plate.

“Oh, no! These aren't for you.” With a wink, she pushed the plate in front of Button Mash. “These are for you, sweetie.”

Humming again, Love Tap placed the remaining three platters in front of the Crusaders. “These are for you, girls.”

Scootaloo licked her lips, but when she pulled the top off, she gagged from the stench of burnt food. What was on her plate looked more like a hockey puck than a pancake, as it was small, black, and stiff. It was also lightly garnished with a sprig from some three-leaved creeping vine.

Apple Bloom's ears drooped when she discovered that her meal was the same and Sweetie Belle just blinked.

Laughing to herself, Love Tap poured milk in Button's glass, then filled the girls' cups with some bright, shimmering, yellowish-green fluid. “I made these pancakes specially for you. I can't wait to see you eat them.”

“Uh...” Apple Bloom prodded her 'pancake' with a fork. It went tink. “Is it even edible?”

“I think the table's more edible,” Scootaloo said.

Slumping down, Sweetie Belle moaned, “Mine has broken glass in it.”

Button's mom sat down in her creaking rocking chair. She leaned forward to put her elbows on the table and rest her head on her hooves. This mashed in her cheeks, squishing her grin. When the Crusaders looked at her with drooping ears and little frowns, she waved a hoof at them. “Meh. A little broken glass won't hurt. It'll give you intestinal fortitude or something.”

“More like internal bleeding,” Apple Bloom muttered. She set down her fork and sniffed at the vine on her plate. Eyes widening, she scrunched up her face and jerked back. This caused Button to tilt in her direction, quickly resulting in a scramble where both she and Scootaloo struggled to right him. Failing to work together, they each pushed and pulled and their combined efforts were twice as much force as they needed. Button swayed back and forth, with his head flopping like a rag doll.

His mother dropped her hooves on the table and sat up straight. Her smile faded. “Button, dear, are you okay?”

“He's fine!” Sweetie Belle shouted, throwing herself forward and banging on the table. The plates rattled and circular ripples sloshed through the cups on the table. “Heh-heh.”

That made Button's mom frown. She raised an eyebrow. “Which one were you again?”

“Me? I'm Sweetie Bellll—aaah!” She reared back, eyes fixated on the sprig of vine on her plate. “Isn't that the same plant which caused Aura to break out in a horrible rash?”

After Finally getting Button's corpse back under control, Scootaloo had wide eyes and cold sheen of sweat glistening on her hide. However, she was still curious enough to carefully, carefully lean in to take a closer look at the three-leaved plant on her plate. “You're right! It's poison oak. That's totally not cool.”

“Meh. One in thirty ponies are immune.” Button's mom shrugged. “If you've been around it before, it's probably fine. Now about Button—”

“Yeah, but not to eat!” Apple Bloom stuck out her tongue. “Yuck!”

“And what's this weird green stuff, anyway?” Scootaloo pulled her cup closer and sniffed at it. “Is it some kind of fruit juice?”

Turning her eyes to her own cup, Apple Bloom shrugged. “It's not apple juice. That's fer sure.”

Picking up her own glass, Sweetie Belle took a tiny sip and swished it around in her mouth. “It's sweet.”

“It's antifreeze,” Button's mom said, trying to keep a straight face.

Pfft! Promptly spitting it back out, Sweetie Belle stuck her tongue out and wiped it off her hoof, getting dirt on it. “Yuck!”

“Is that even safe?” Apple Bloom asked.

At this point, Love Tap was laughing so hard that her chair creaked as she rocked back and forth. “If it was, I wouldn't have given it to you.”

Scootaloo leaned over and whispered past Button to Apple Bloom, “I don't think she likes us very much.”

“Gee, ya think?”

“Eww.” Pushing away from the table, Sweetie Belle hopped off her seat and picked a sharp piece of wood out of her sore rump. Looking back up with big puppy-eyes, she asked, “Can I get a glass of water to rinse my mouth out?”

“The kitchen's that way,” Button's mom said, pointing over the table.

“Thanks,” Sweetie Belle said before dashing off.

Scootaloo's mouth hung open and Apple Bloom cringed. Both of them knew better than to let Sweetie Belle anywhere near a kitchen, but at the same time, neither of them wanted to say anything. With Button's mom turning her attention back to them, they were in hot water anyway.

“Button, I'm surprised that you've been quiet through all of this, and you haven't even touched your food.” She tilted her head as she looked him up and down. Scootaloo bit her lip while Apple Bloom ground her teeth. Button remained stationary. “And why are dressed up as Horn Saber anyway?”

“Who?” Scootaloo asked.

“Horn Saber, as the main character from the infamous Horn Saber series? How could you not know who Horn Saber is?”

“Uh, what she means is that he's Lord Lazy-oaf-atron, not Horn Saber,” Apple Bloom said. “That's like Horn Saber, but, uh, quieter. Yeah. Quieter.” She grinned, showing off her pearly whites.

“Quieter?” Button's mom raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, totally. He took a vow of silence. That's why he's not talking.” Scootaloo also grinned—wide enough to make her mouth hurt.

“A vow of—from somepony who looks exactly like Horn Saber? Really? The stallion best known for his overly dramatic monologues that make filibusters seem short? Who is this Oafatron and why haven't I heard of him?”

“He's... well...” Scootaloo looked away. She was sweating.

“It's a fan fiction,” Apple Bloom said.

“Button, is this true?”

“Hey! He can't get an actin' cutie mark if ya force him to break character!” Apple Bloom turned her nose up.

Button's mother sighed and rubbed her face with a hoof. “Of course it's a cutie mark thing. What else would I expect from you three? Button, just nod if it's true, okay?”

Scootaloo stiffened and slowly turned her head to lock eyes with Apple Bloom. Button, propped between them, was in no condition to do anything. Pressing her lips together, she slowly tilted Button back. Apple Bloom gave a slight nod and joined in. Working together, they rocked him back and forth, causing his head to bob kinda like he was nodding. Sorta. Maybe.

Kicking her chair back, Button's mom stood up and leaned on the table. She scowled and bared her teeth “What do you think you're doing to my son under the table?” she snarled.

Apple Bloom gulped.

“Nothing!” Scootaloo frantically shook her head.

“Help! It's frothing all over the counter and spilling on the floor!” Sweetie Belle screamed from the kitchen. “I can't make it stop!”

Still looming over them, Button's mother folded  her ears back and winced. “Grr. Button, eat your lunch and don't forget the peas. I've got to deal with that mess first.” The plates rattled as she got back down from the table. “And girls, if I find out that you've been hurting him, K-k-k-k-k-k-k! You hear me? K-K-K-K-K-K-K!”

Despite the threat, both Apple Bloom and Scootaloo heaved sighs of relief when the cream mare walked out of the room.

“Saved by Sweetie Belle,” Scootaloo said. “I could almost kiss her.”

“Yeah, me too,” Apple Bloom leaned over and stole one of Button's pancakes. “But we gotta get out of here first. C'mon, help me get rid of his food.” Next Chapter: Frothing Failures Estimated time remaining: 36 Minutes