It was a bright and sunny day in Ponyville. Rainbow Dash cleared the sky extra early today, which was unusual, since she typically slept in so late; she thought that “AM” was only a frequency on the radio. This crossed Dusk Shine’s mind when he trotted through the marketplace with Spike and Trixie, along with another oddity.

“Where is everypony?” wondered the purple unicorn aloud. “It’s a gorgeous weekend, and not even the schoolkids are out playing. What’s with everypony today?”

“True that, dude,” agreed Spike. “This place looks like a ghost town.”

“Humph,” snorted Trixie. “They obviously are intimidated by the very presence of the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

“Doubt it,” dismissed Spike. “I think it might be zombies.”

“Zombies?” Dusk deadpanned. “Why would you think that? There’s no such thing as zombies.”

“How can you know for sure?” said Spike with an eerie theatric tone. “There’s cockatrices, minotaurs, phoenixes, and Celestia-knows-what all over Equestria! Who’s to say that zombies don’t exist too?” Dusk was about to go into a lecture on the scientific evidence that proved that it was impossible to reanimate the dead, when he was interrupted by somepony calling his name.

“Dusk!” Pinkie Pie said in whispered tone, but was loud enough to hear from a distance. (Which actually defeated the purpose when think about it, you know?) She was inside, peeping through a cracked open door. “Get in here! It’s not safe!”

“Not safe from what?” said Dusk with confusion.

“Just get inside here!”

The scholar obliged, followed by Trixie. The interior of the building was completely dark, due to somepony turning off the lights and closing all the blinds. Somepony lit a dim candle, revealing that half of Ponyville was cooped up with Pinkie.

“What are you all doing here?” he asked.

“Hidin’ from… her” Applejack said fearfully, pointing outside. There, a robed pony stood, pawing at the ground. “Her name is Zecora, an’ she’s th’ most evil thing in a hundred miles as th’ crow flies!”

“What is evil about this Zecora?” asked Trixie. “Does she think she’s better than Trixie?”

“She’s... different!” proclaimed Rainbow Dash. “I can’t explain it, she just evil!”

Dusk Shine looked out the window. Zecora lifted her hood, revealing a truly radical Mohawk. “She seems like somepony you’d get along with, Dash,” the egghead said helpfully.

“What a horrid thing to say!” exclaimed Rarity. “Why, if I saw Sweetie Belle socializing with those piercings, I’d ground her for a week! That’s why I brought her here, where it’s safe.” She hugged Sweetie Belle protectively.

“Hey, not so tight Rarity!” protested the little blank-flank. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Nonsense,” said Applejack. “Ya need ta protect yer flesh an’ blood, ain’t that right Applebloom?”

“Ya don’t need ta hug me neither,” huffed Applebloom, struggling to get some air.

Okay, I’ve done the first part of the episode, thought Pinkie Pie to Pinkamena. NOW can we stop being mean to Zecora and throw her a party?

[No,] denied her other self. [Like I said, we need to learn self-control. That means going through each episo-err… weekly events taking it all in without seeing anything coming, including our mistakes.]

But I don’t wanna get infected by Poison Joke~! whined Pinkie.

[It’ll do you good to lose the ability to talk for once,] smirked Pinkamena. [Now, I think it’s time to do that song you like.] Pinkie listened back into the conversation.

“…As I was saying,” Dusk continued, “there’s no reason to fear this mare. Everything you’ve got is based off rumor and your apparent racism. Speaking of which, how come nopony in this town knows what a zebra is? We get ambassadors from Zebrakistan all the time in Canterlot!”

“Well, if she’s not evil,” retorted Pinkie Pie. “Then how come I have a song for her?”

She’s an evil enchantress,

She does evil dances,

And to boost her own ego, she poses in evil stances!

She thinks she’s better than you,

‘Cause her head’s full of doo,

Plus, she’ll insult your mother and make you feel blue!

Sooooo-Wait this my song for Trixie!

“Lovely,” said Trixie sarcastically. “Nice to see how well Trixie is fitting in around here.”

While Pinkie was lying through her teeth about how she thought Zecora was evil and the rest of our heroes argued about how rumors can cast an illusion over the public eye, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom were getting acquainted.

“So, you’re a blank-flank too?” questioned Sweetie Belle.

“Bare as th’ day Ah was born,” confirmed Applebloom. “Ya know, Ah hate it when Applejack treats me like a baby. Ah bet if Ah earned mah cutie mark, Ah’d be treated as an equal, not some foal that needs protectin’.”

“Amen, sister,” said the white filly. “You know, all this talk about Zecora is making me think. What if Dusk is right about her, and we’ve just misunderstood her all these years.”

“Why don’t we just talk ta her an’ find out?” suggested Applebloom.

“That’s a great idea! We might both even get our cutie marks in peace-making or something!”

“We could even start our own club that not only does peacemakin’, but helps other blank-flanks find their cutie marks,” Applebloom brainstormed. “We could like, be on a cutie mark crusade by doin’ this!”

“Wait,” stopped Sweetie Belle. “Don’t you have to have three ponies minimum to start a club?”

“Where didja hear that?”

Sweetie Belle mumbled something.

“What?”

“I said, mmm mmm mm mph…”

“Speak up, cornsarn it!”

“I SAID THAT IT’S ITS DEFININITION IN THE DICTIONARY!” blurted Sweetie Belle. Applebloom burst out in a fit a giggles. “It’s not funny!” snapped the unicorn with the multicolored mane. “I was really, really bored one day and Rarity wouldn’t let me help her with the store, so I spent the day memorizing the dictionary. There, you now know my most embarrassing secret. Happy?”

“Very,” said Applebloom, wiping a tear from her eye. “Come on, we gotta catch up with her!” The two fillies ran out the door sneakiest way they could manage. Zigzagging across the street, they made sure that nopony cowering inside noticed. They were just about in a ten-meter radius of Zecora when they bumped into a tiny pegasus dressed up like a ninja.

“Hey, what’s th’ big idea, sneaking around like that?” Applebloom said angrily. “We were tryin’ ta sneak around, an’ we don’t take kindly ta copycats ‘round these parts!”

“Sorry,” apologized the ninja in a gruff but adorable feminine voice. She sounded like a mini-version of Rainbow Dash. “It’s just while Zecora comes around town, all the shopkeepers leave the stand unguarded, so it’s the perfect time to do a little… borrowing, so I don’t go hungry for a few days.”

“You’re a thief?” gasped Sweetie Belle. “Rarity says stealing is wrong!”

“Pleeeaaase don’t tell anypony,” begged the ninja. “I don’t have a home of my own, and my parents are so skinny already, so I don’t wanna end up like them.”

“Well,” said Applebloom sympathetically. “Ah guess if yer starvin’ an’ all, Ah guess we could keep a secret.”

“Awesome!” said the ninja. She took off her mask in an act of trust, revealing her to be an orange-coated filly with matching purple eyes and mane. “The name’s Scootaloo, the second coolest pony in Ponyville!”

“Second coolest? Who’s th’ first?”

“Rainbow Dash, duh.”

“One question,” pondered Sweetie Belle. “If you’re really homeless, how’d you get the bits to buy that ninja outfit?”

“Oh, that. I stole it back at those sales that happen at the costume shop around Nightmare Night. I figured if I didn’t show my face, I would get caught less.” Scootaloo took a carrot from an food cart and started to nibble on it hungrily. “So, why are you out here?”

“We’re tryin’ ta earn our cutie marks by makin’ friends with Zecora!” said Applebloom proudly.

“Wow, that’s awesome!” said Scootaloo. “Can I join you? I don’t have my cutie mark yet, either.”

“Hey,” said Sweetie Belle as realization dawned on her. “We can form that club now!”

“Well,” said Scootaloo, “I think we’d better hurry and catch up with her first. She’s already going into the Everfree Forest.” It was true. The zebra was barely visible within the shadows and shrubbery. The three blank-flanks followed in hot pursuit.

“Hey,” thought Applebloom. “Ain’t th’ Everfree Forest supposed ta be dangerous or somethin’?”

“Don’t worry,” said Scootaloo with confidence. “I know these woods like the back of my wing!”

Fluttershy considered Dusk’s argument. “Well, I suppose her appearance doesn’t mean that she’s evil,” the animal lover thought out loud, “But why would anypony that’s not crazy, diabolical, or secretly possessed ever consider living in the Everfree Forest? There’s m-monsters in there!”

“Hey, where’s Applebloom?” said Applejack. “She must’ve run outside!”

“Sweetie Belle’s missing, too!” said Rarity.

“That wicked Zecora must’ve grabbed ‘em!” said Rainbow Dash. “I’ll organize a rescue party.”

“Zecora didn’t ponynap anypony,” said Dusk. “They probably were just curious and followed… her... into the… forest…” He trailed off. “Actually, evil enchantress or not, a rescue party is a good plan.”

Three foals walked deeper into the woods. They had lost visual on Zecora for a while now, but the figured if they kept in a straight line, they would eventually meet up with her at her hut. To pass the time, they spitballed ideas for the name of their club. Every time somepony got an idea, however, it was shot down by a random one of the other two.

“Cutie Mark Club?”

“Nah.”

“The Elements of Harmony?”

“Taken.”

“The Mane 6?”

“There’s only three of us.”

“The Cutie Mark Three, then.”

“Nnope.”

“The Cute-tasically Fantastic?”

“Over my dead body.”

“Cutie Mark Acquisition Program?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“The Three Stooges?”

“Lamest. One. Yet.”

“Ah’ve got it! The Cutie Mark Crusaders!”

“Perfect!”

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS PEACEMAKERS YAY!” With their name chosen, the Cutie Mark Crusaders galloped at full speed toward Zecora’s house. That is, until they found out that they were completely lost.

“I thought you said that you knew these woods like the back of your wing!” yelled Sweetie Belle.

“Yeah…” said Scootaloo, scratching her head with a little guilt. “I kind of stretched the truth a bit.”

“Ah can’t believe this!” ranted Applebloom. “Who else in Ponyville is stupid enough ta get lost in th’ middle of one of th’ most dangerous parts in Equestria?” All of a sudden, three other blank-flanks stumbled out of the bushes. They could be recognized as Dinky Hooves, Featherweight, and Pipsqueak.

“Apparently, not just us,” said Sweetie Belle, answering Applebloom’s question.

“Hooray!” cheered Pipsqueak. “Thank Celestia you found us! We’ve been lost for ten minutes now.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” said Scootaloo bluntly. “We’ve been lost for fifteen minutes.”

“Darn it,” said Featherweight. “My mom’s gonna kill me.” I realize that no record of Featherweight’s voice has ever been made canon, but never fear! Just read his lines in the voice of Philip J. Fry from Futurama, and you’ll be fine.

“What were you doing in the woods?” asked Sweetie Belle out of curiosity.

“Twying to get our cutie marks,” said Dinky. She involuntarily talked in the way you’d talk to your pet puppy, mispronouncing every other word in the most heart-wrenchingly adorable way possible. “We supposed dat if we got da best cutie marks evar, everypony would twake us seriously. And what’s da best way to get da best cutie mark evar than to do something that nopony’s evar done befwore? So, we followed Zecorwa to find out why everypony thinks she’s all evulz and stuff.”

Seriously, read that paragraph out loud. You’ll laugh yourself to death.

“Wait jus’ a cotton-pickin’ minute!” said Applebloom. “We formed our super-special club ta strive ta earn our cutie marks, so doin’ stupid things ta get ‘em is OUR deal! You’re jus’ rippin’ us off!”

“Am not!” said Pipqueak. “What’s the name of your club?”

“The Cutie Mark Crusaders.”

“Well, we’re the Flank-Finder Friends!” said Featherweight victoriously. “That’s completely different!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“IS TOO!” said screamed Applebloom at the top of her lungs.

“It is not times infinity!” said Featherweight with aggression.

“Fine, have it your way,” said Applebloom calmly, giving up a little too easily. “It ain’t different in th’ slightest.”

“AHA!” said the pegasus colt happily. “We’re not different! We win!”

“They twicked you, Feathers,” said Dinky. “We’re supposed to be the ORIGINAL ones, remember?”

“Oh,” was all Featherweight could say.

“I have an idea,” said Sweetie Belle. “Why don’t we combine our groups to form one big cutie mark pursuing family?”

“That’s a great idea!” said Pipsqueak. “Why don’t we flip a coin to see which club keeps the name?”

Three guesses on who won.

“Dusk!” called Rainbow Dash. “Three more foals just went missing!”

“Really?” said Dusk. “Who were they?”

“Pipsqueak, Featherweight, and Dinky Hooves.”

“How are their parents doing?”

“Not good. Not good at all.”

Featherweight’s mother was a pegasus with a white coat, freckles, plus a lime-green and magenta-striped mane which was cut in even bangs, much like Featherweight’s.

Her name was Blossomforth, and she was one of… those moms. The kind of mom that didn’t let her kid go hiking unless they were covered in SPF 150 sunscreen, three layers of bubble wrap, plus a safety helmet with a GPS tracking device on it. The kind of mom that measured their child’s age in months instead of years. The kind of mom that took a brand-new picture of their foal every single day before they went to school, just in case he or she needed to be on a milk carton. When choosing her son’s diet for him, “saturated fat” was a dirty word for Blossomforth.

And with Featherweight missing for ten minutes straight, she was living her worst nightmare.

“What has happened to my babeeee?” she sobbed, clinging to her husband for emotional support.

Featherweight’s father was… a little different, if not eccentric. He looked like Arnold Schwarzeneighger if he was somehow Arnold was the secret twin brother of Jabba the Clop. He ate a bowl of nails for breakfast every morning with radiation sprinkled on top for flavoring. Afterwards, he spent the next hour smashing his head clean through solid concrete in what he called “light exercise.” He was a mass of rippling muscles packed into a snow-white coat. His body build was contrasted by the two tiny stubs he had for wings. His name was Roid Rage.

The two had met during the Canterlot Olympics. They were participants, no less. Blossomforth was a gold medalist in gymnastics and synchronized flying. Roid Rage was a black belt of the recently approved sport of Extreme Ballerina Explosive-Gator Mud Pit Wrestling. It was classic love at first sight, save that they both met in the emergency room.

“Don’t worry, babe,” assured the hulk of a stallion. “He’s probably out there hunting that evil witch that everypony’s too much of a pansy to stand up against. My son, the witch-hunter! YEEEEAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” said Blossomforth. “He’s too young to die!”

Pipsqueak’s parents gave the responsibly of raising him to his big sister, much like Sweetie Belle’s parents often dropped her off at Rarity’s. Pipsqueak’s sister was one with a night life. She blacked out most nights from heavy drinking and partying, but she always meant well, making sure that he always got good grades and didn’t get any booze she had stashed around. She worked at Ponyville’s night club, preforming techno rave sensations and killer light shows under the stage name DJ PON-3.

“Dude, this is bogus,” Vinyl Scratch said glumly. “If Pipsqueak gets turned into a frog, Mom and Dad will have me for dinner!”

“What kind of trouble you get in is no matter,” scolded Rarity, doing her part to organize the search party. “You should call them and get them over here, on the double! We need the numbers to get a proper rescue team going.”

“Alright,” the DJ sighed, adjusting her shades. She walked over to Spike. “Hey, dragon-dude, you double as a fax machine, right?”

“Uhhh… kind of,” said Spike unsurely.

“Could you send a message to this address?” She handed him a slip of paper. “We need Mom and Pops here, proto.”

“I haven’t sent a letter to anypony other than Celestia,” said the baby dragon, “But in theory, it’ll work.”

“Great!” smiled DJ PON-3. She dictated a small note, explaining the dilemma. Spike sent the letter surprisingly without a hitch.

“Who are your parents, anyhow?” questioned Rarity. “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting them formerly. How far away are they?”

“Far,” simply answered Vinyl. “But don’t worry, the trip’s really short for them. They’ll be here any second now.”

“How can they be so far away, but travel so quickly?” said Rarity with puzzlement.

“They have special transportation.”

As if on cue, a loud flying contraption hovered down to the street of Ponyville. Dusk recognized the machine as a helicopter, a state-of-the-art airborne vehicle that was only recently invented by Equestrian scientists, and that made it very, VERY expensive. The loving father of Vinyl Scratch and Pipsqueak stepped out casually, and Rarity nearly fainted.

“F-F-F-F-F-F-F-FANCY PANTS?!?!?” sputtered the fashionista. She galloped up to him and started kissing the ground at his hooves. “What-*smooch*-brings-*smooch*-you-*smooch*-to-*smooch*-our-*smooch*-UNWORTHY-*smooch*-little-*smooch*-town?”

“I’m going to save my son,” said Fancy Pants dutifully. “After all, nothing is more important than family, right dear?”

“Absolutely,” said a foxy mare by the name of Fleur de Lis, hopping out of the driver’s seat. “Oh, and Vinyl?”

“Yeah, Mom?” gulped Vinyl.

“We shall have words when this is over. Harsh ones.”

As Vinyl grimaced at the thought of eventually being told off by her mother, Rarity thought she could die of happiness. She HAD to get in better touch with Vinyl now. They would have spa dates, tea time, give each other makeovers, invites to her parents’ yacht…

There was another shocking realization in Rarity. Vinyl hated every one of those things. She liked getting smashed and music that sounded like nails on a chalkboard! How could she be the daughter of one of Canterlot’s finest, and not be the perfect lady?

“Dusk,” said the baffled drama queen in the hushed tone she used for gossiping. “How do you suppose Vinyl Scratch can be the next in line for Fancy Pants’ fortune? They’re hardly alike!”

“Well…” guessed Dusk. “I suppose you could have a point, but as everypony knows, Fancy wasn’t the high-class stallion he is today. Maybe Vinyl just likes her dad’s roots.”

You’ve probably often wondered about the backstory around Fancy Pants, i.e. Why he’s so popular around Canterlot, how he came to be with Fleur de Lis, and why he’s so accepting of the lower class. All these questions will be answered (and abused by the author) with one simple detail:

Fancy Pants Esquire is a retired rockstar.

Indeed, for he was the founder for one of Equestria’s greatest bands ever to shred a guitar, Wyld Stallyns. The other members were co-founder and best friend Schmancy Shores (father of the ever-popular Sapphire Shores), the Grim Reaper himself at the bass, a sasquatch from Mars that could split himself in two named Station playing the bongos, a couple of slapped-together androids dubbed “The Good Robot Usses,” and finally with Fancy & Schmancy’s respective loving wives, Princess Fleur de Lis along with her sister, Princess Escort Sluthooves. (Each of whom Fancy & Schmancy met while time traveling back to 13th century Trottingham, but that’s another story.)

The band made big, inventing a gimmick they called “air guitar,” where Fancy & Schmancy gestured their hooves as if they were riffing an electric guitar, accompanied by a sound effect they made with their horns. The band was so popular, they temporarily changed the national motto from “Love and tolerate” to “Be excellent to one another,” which wasn’t that big of a change when you think about it.

The tale of Fancy’s youngest offspring is complicated, but it started when he was born in Canterlot. By the time Pipsqueak first learned to talk, the fame and money that came with growing up in the 1% went to his head, and he constantly whined about not getting enough shiny things. Finally when Fancy and Fleur had enough, they sent him to the Trottingham Boarding School for Not Being a Pain in the Flank. (Filthy Rich threatened to send Diamond Tiara there whenever she misbehaved more than usual, and that succeeded in shutting her up for a good five minutes.) After three short weeks, Pipsqueak thankfully learned his lesson. To ensure that he wouldn’t get spoiled rotten again, Fleur insisted that Vinyl Scratch would take care of him, with weekend visits to Canterlot to keep in touch.

Dinky was an only child. Despite the way she talked, she was an intelligent young filly that had a dream of getting enrolled in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. She strived to get straight A’s every day. If you don’t know who her mother is, shame on you. You are a disgrace to bronies everywhere. Go sit in the corner.

“Is everypony ready?” said Derpy Hooves to nopony in particular, but more to everpony in general. “I want to go get my little muffin!”

“We’re ready,” said Dusk Shine. “Let’s go find us some lost foals!”

The group of concerned parents and guardians had been treading through the Everfree Forest for three hours now. They had no idea where Zecora’s hut was, due to everypony avoiding it and the woods of death around it in general.

“Ugh,” groaned Rainbow Dash. “My hooves are killing me.” The pegasus was unmatched in speed, but was as worthless as a one-legged mule in terms of endurance. This was less of a surprise than expected, considering how much Dash napped during the day. “We don’t even know where that zebra-whatsit Zecora even is, and we’re totally lost.”

“Hey, there she is!” said Pinkie Pie. “She’s right past that harmless-looking patch of blue flowers!”

Dusk stepped forward in an attempt to communicate, rustling through the unknown flora. “Miss Zecora? We don’t mean any trouble, but some of our foals followed you in here. Have you seen them?”

“Beware, beware fair stallion!” said Zecora ominously. “Those weeds you stand in are no mere dandelions!”

“Why did she speak in rhyme?’ wondered Trixie out loud, walking into the blue flowerbeds without heed for the zebra’s warning. After all, they were just plants. Sensing the need to stay in a group, the rest of the search party joined her, touching all of the blooms that they had never seen before.

“Oh yeah,” said Applejack. “She always talks like that. Nopony knows why. Forgot ta mention that, sorry. They say that she’s always castin’ same kinda curse.”

Dusk was a little curious. “Why would we need to stay out of these flowerbeds?” he asked Zecora.

“You did not listen, and it is too late,” she answered, “for you have already sealed your fate!”

“What does that even mean?” said Blossomforth.

Zecora said nothing, only vanished with a puff of smoke.

“Dude,” said Vinyl Scratch. “That chick just creeps me out.”

“I’ve seen zebra ambassadors in Canterlot, but they seemed rather charming,” said Fancy Pants. “Then again, they never casted curses on anypony.”

“There’s no such thing as curses,” insisted Dusk. “They’re just an old pony tale.”

There was a pregnant pause. “WHAT??!!” the five other Elements of Harmony cried out in unison.

“Dusk, not that Ah doubt yer magical know-how,” Applejack said, “but before Nightmare Moon came out, she was jus’ an old pony tale. How can ya be so sure that curses ain’t real, especially since th’ Summer Sun Celebration?”

“I read it in a book,” defended Dusk, like this was a legitimate answer.

“Well, I didn’t like the way she addressed you,” Rarity shot back. “’Fair stallion.’ Hrmph. The things I will do to that mare…”

Tired of walking through the maze of trees and spookiness, the Cutie Mark Crusaders, now with six members, sat down for a rest.

“Got anything in those saddlebags?” asked Scootaloo to Featherweight. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“I’ve got granola bars, some protein shakes, a few water bottles, a box of moist towelets, my inhaler for my asthma that hasn’t acted up in two years, a flashlight, two inflatable life preservers, a parachute, a first-aid kit complete with the jaws of life, three sleeping bags, an unfoldable tent, and a box of dental floss.”

Applebloom looked at the colt like he just gave birth to a healthy litter of puppies. “Ya carry all that junk around everywhere ya go?” she said in disbelief.

Featherweight just shrugged. “My mom likes to be prepared,” he said like they were just discussing the weather.

“I’ll have a granola bar, mate,” said Pipsqueak.

“Gimme a protein shake,” said Scootaloo. The blank-flanks ate in a quiet moment of peace. All of a sudden, there was a rustling in the bushes.

“Who’s there?” called Sweetie Belle, looking around.

“It’s probably a squirrel,” said Dinky, but the way she scootched over to Pipsqueak stated that she believed otherwise.

“Show yerself!” yelled Applebloom bravely.

Unfortunately, the stalker obliged. A tall, shady figure stepped into the clearing, wearing a jet-black suit, complimented by a blood-red tie. It resembled a pony, if the pony’s libs were painfully stretched like taffy. Its coat a stark-white, the only sign of color was a cutie mark; a crudely drawn circle with an X crossed through it. The mark looked less naturally appeared and more like it was painfully scarred on there with a jagged knife. It towered over the foals, reaching as far as the branches of the trees themselves. Its posture was imposing, looking down upon the Crusaders like it was standing up on an ivory tower, judging them for doing something terribly wrong and completely unforgiveable. Black tentacles grew out of its suit, whipping and slithering about in the air like the hair of a gorgon. The most horrifying feature was its complete lack of face, as if it was an unfinished drawing by some unholy creator.

“IT’S SLENDERPONY!!!” screamed Applebloom, Dinky, Pipsqueak, Sweetie Belle and Featherweight. They all thought they were going to die. All but one.

Scootaloo gave a cheerful wave hello, like Slenderpony was a neighbor stopping by for some milk.

“Hi, Dad!”

Author's Notes:

Your head can explode now.