???????????
[Luna turns the hour hand backwards]
??????????????????
[Her sister calls her a cheater]
????????????????????????
[They have a contest for the bigger horn]
???????
[The winner is a goat]
-----
Chapter 2: The Hikkiopony
>  You’re in the Mayor’s office, from a personal summon
>  It’s been three days of your lawful teaching,
>  And apparently one of your mares has been skipping out on your blessed education.
>  Mayor: “Mr. Anon, you have a student that hasn’t been present in your class; she’s been slowly losing attendance, and now it appears she’s quit it all together.”
“What is her name? I thought everyone was attending, even that OCD failure Diamond Tiara.”
>  Mayor: “Her name is… Scootaloo. She likely believes that staying home and cooping herself with her scooter will get her a cutie mark. She’s turned into a hikkiomori.”
“A… what?”
>  Mayor: “A hikkiomori; a shut-in.”
“What didn’t you just say that?!”
-----
>  You’re soon scouring in the outskirts of Ponyville with naught but a crudely drawn map of where Scootaloo lives in your hands.
>  Yes, you’re human now.
>  Reaching grassy plains, you curse the world for being lost when an optimistic Applebloom joins your side.
> Applebloom: “Hullo there Anon!”
“I’m your teacher, please refer to me as Mr. Anon!”
>  Applebloom: “… What about Pink Applevisor?”
“What happened to Pink Supervisor?! Aaauch!”
>  Soon the two of you are in front of the written address’s home;
>  But it’s an abandoned shack, clearly in disrepair!
>  Scratch that; upon further inspection, it’s a tree shack, or treehouse if you really want to press your point with it being built upon a tree.
>  It looks like it hasn’t seen mercy in years, it’s depressing…
>  You like it.
“This is a fantastic looking home! The eerie depression, the gloomy look… I might have to ask to buy this from Scootaloo’s parents!”
>  Applebloom: “Scootaloo’s parents died long ago, Pink Applevisor-“
“It’s Supervisor, what does pink have to do with it?! It was a cherry blossom, quit calling me th-“
>  ???: “Quit following me, Belle, I told you- we’re over!”
>  Sweetie Belle: “Please initiate reconsideration program, my function serves with you as a necessity!”
>  You watch as some unknown colt race away from the white mare, who’s attempting to shed tears in sorrow.
>  It appears she cannot cry; Applebloom and yourself join her-
>  Guess what? You’re a stallion now.
“What is the matter?”
>  [Blink to her]
>  Sweetie Belle: “Previous romantic interest ejected me from his cd-drive that is life.”
>  [Blink to you]
“How do you even know what a CD-Drive is?”
>  [Blink to her]
>  Sweetie Belle: “Error.”
“Why did he, err… eject you?”
>  Sweetie Belle: “I attempted to defragment his internal hard drive multiple times to accumulate use time.”
“What?!”
>  Applebloom: “She’s sayin’ that she was trying to spend too much time with the guy, and she was taking effort to be with him, and he flipped out because she as defragmentalizing his doo-whats-its!”
>  Your mouth is agape in shock.
“How did you translate that out of what she said?!”
>  Applebloom: “She said it bright as day, silly!”
“Well, Sweetie Belle, let me put it like this… you seem like a nice pony, although a bit young to be dating, and if you work on your attachment issues, I think you’ll do just fine. Just keep at it, alright?”
>  Sweetie Belle: “Affirmed, Mr. Pink Supervisor.”
>  You ignore this as you look off to the distance, the colt now out of view.
“Who was that colt, another skipper? I don’t remember seeing him in my class.”
>  Applebloom: “He’s in the class next door!”
“But… it’s a one room school!”
>  Applebloom: “Come on, you two, we need to find Scoots and see why she isn’t attending school!”
>  Totally ignoring the topic at hand as it’s tossed away disgracefully, you return to the scene of Scootaloo’s treehouse shack thing of beautiful depression.
-----
“Wait, you said Scootaloo’s parents have passed away, correct? Who takes care of her, then?”
>  Applebloom: “Mmm… I don’t think no one does, Mr.-“
“That’s all I need to be addressed as. Also, it’s ‘anyone’, you were using a double negative. Finally, how can a foal so young be living by herself, isn’t there some sort of Equestrian foster program?!”
>  Sweetie Belle: “Negative. It is under the belief that all ponies will seek help from friends or the crowd should the necessity come.”
>  Applebloom’s ears droop at this.
>  ”Kinda sad, huh?”
“Sad, it’s brilliant!”
>  ”Huh?” “Error?”
“Survival of the fittest, along with the pretend theme of ‘love and friendship’, is similar to life everywhere! For example:”
>  You point at a nearby tree, where a family of squirrels has made their home.
“There’s a cute innocent nestle of critters, and the couples love each other very much. However, when they decided to have children…”
>  The cries of little baby squirrels suddenly begins, and the mama kicks out the daddy squirrel;
>  Presumably in search of nuts or whatever the hell squirrels actually eat.
“It’s up to the father to search for food for his family.”
>  A little while as the father squirrel goes off, another buff looking squirrel enters the nest, and the three of you soon hear interesting lady squirrel noises.
>  Applebloom: “Ooo! I hear the lovey-dovey part!”
>  You do your damn best to cover their ears.
“That is NOT what I MEANT!!”
-----
>  Totally ignoring the reason you stood outside of Scootaloo’s house, you take the two fillies to show better made examples of “tough love” in Ponyville:
> When Spike turns himself into a pincushion for Rarity’s work, doing his pathetic best for the throes of love;
> When Pinkie Pie lovingly gives away free cupcakes to the public in attempts to be friendly, despite taking two days prior to kill one of them to make the ingredients;
> When Applejack and Big Mac- Oh my, right behind the cart?
“Err, let’s go somewhere else, you two, it appears Applebloom’s family is having a reunion.”
> Sweetie Belle: “Recording for research uses…”
>You pick her up and continue on your trek of wildly based explanations.
> Pointing out how Celestia originally left Twilight here to die in a humorous last ditch effort to thwart her crazy little sister, all encompassed by a sly veil of “love and friendship”;
“They tell you that it’s all about love and bonds, but they’re nothing but trials that ponies must face to endure the hardships they will meet later in life!”
> You pound one hoof into another.
> Yup, stallion again, and the lack of front legs supporting your body weight causes you to plop forward.
> Applebloom: “What in the apple barrels?”
> You rub your head with your hands (human yet again).
“This is why Scootaloo lives alone! It is but another test of sorts for her to bear the responsibilities in existing!”
-----
> The world resumes a monotone residual entity as you fall to your knees;
> Your face shoots to the left in anguish;
> It swings over to the right in agony;
> You settle with a horrified look, staring forward in shock.
-----
“I’M IN DESPAIR!! QUADRAPEDAL CREATURES USING ROMANTIC THEMES TO INTENTIONALLY CAUSE INTERNAL AGONY TO THEIR OWN KIND HAS PUT ME IN DESPAIR!!!”
> Sweetie Belle, out of all ponies, smacks you in the face, as every single witness in Ponyville is staring at your sorrowful outburst.
> Sweetie Belle: “Relocate your circuits, and reinsert them back into your mainframe, Rose Leader!”
“Eh?!”
> Applebloom: “You need to pull yourself together, Pink Supervisor!”
“Stop calling me that!”
-----
> You, along with Applebloom and for whatever reason Sweetie Belle, are now back in front of the shack of poor design.
> If it’s even possible, it appears that it has dilapidated even further;
> Perhaps the fourth Hokage from N***** has left time seals around the area to disrupt the flow?
> You approach the door, and with the lack of any eagerness to follow with the action, give the door a slight trio of wraps.
> The door handle decided at this time that it was a good idea to dislocate itself from the rest of the building.
“This place… is pretty old. It looked like it suffered a curse of age for a hundred years.”
> Applebloom: “Actually, us Cutie Mark Crusaders just remodeled this treehouse for our clubhouse recently!”
> Sweetie Belle: “Carbon Dating suggests additions to be approximately 1.5 months old.”
> Your mind is destroyed by this revelation.
“How can it look so bad already? Did you forget to leave candy at the Nightmare Night shrine?!”
> Before they could answer, not only do you hear the noise, you can see it coming out from within;
> It blows out of a hole in the window,
> It puffs out from the pseudo chimney stack,
> It oozes under the door:
> ”Gloooooooooommm…”
> You cringe at the sight as Applebloom dips her hoof into the foul looking substance and tastes it.
> ”I’ll be darned, it’s apple jam!”
“Don’t be tasting things you don’t know!!”
-----
> Having no way to enter with the doorknob evicting itself (you honestly don’t know if it was a “handle” or a “knob” to begin with, but it’s most assuredly a knob now), you kick down the door with the help of Applebloom.
> Sweetie Belle is no longer within sight or proximity, it seems.
> The inside of this “clubhouse” thing was inexpressibly larger than how it appeared from the outside perspective;
> In fact, you have to step outside to comprehend that the inside may just be much grander than reality should allow it.
> Putting this conundrum aside, you would like to note that, despite it being well into the day, no light is willing to seep through the windows, and the apparent lack of electricity has left the chamber to coddle itself in the dark.
> Upon second review, you realize that the windows are boarded up from the inside.
> You assess this from the outside, only to realize that not only was the inside boarded up, the outside was as well.
> How did you not notice this?!
> Applebloom: “This place has gotten really low-spirited since I was last here.”
“I know, right? This place is lovely!”
> In the shadows of the pseudo-night, you see a trapdoor;
“What’s in there? You said you fixed this place up before, right?”
> Applebloom shrugs as you pull out a candle and light it.
> You would think under normal circumstances that this door would lead you to below the treehouse and outside once more.
> Sadly you’re very much mistaken, and it turns out to be a grisly looking stairway down to a cellar of some sort.
> The doorway’s covered in seals and questionable runes of some type.
> You cover your mouth in a cloth, the scent of mildew and mold a bit overpowering.
“This place seems to be a lot worse than I thought, does Scootaloo really live here?”
> Applebloom: “Uh huh! This is her bedroom!”
“How would you know that, you just told me that you didn’t know what this trapdoor led to!”
> She points at one of the demonic defying seals;
> ignoring the unrecognizable kanji symbols, you see a little scribble on one of them:
> ’Scootaloo’s new room- Stay Out’
“Ugh, I can’t read that! Where is Scootaloo, or Sweetie Belle?!”
> Sweetie Belle: “On your about position, Rose Commander.”
> You turn around to find her sitting down right behind you.
“Eh? You were… behind me? Were you always there?”
> Sweetie Belle: “Affirmative. You possess the instruction manual to romantic interest, and as your prized pupil I will bind myself to your presence in an effort to understand more about… looooove.”
> You don’t even know what to say to that, but you know one thing:
> You need to hurry the hell up before some authority figure catches you down in a non-existent basement of sorts with two little foals.
> The laws of the world may be questionable at times, but they have a solid agreement on what to do with filly-fiddlers.
> So, without further ado, you ignore the need to turn the knob and instead remove the door down with a well-placed drill kick.
> Liberated from its hinges, it unceremoniously comes crashing down into a fog of dust, the three of you coughing at the scene.
> ???: “Who… goes… there…?”
> Well, spooky voice in the darkness, far out of view with your candle;
> That’s lovely.
-----
> Applebloom giggles and hops into the darkness, dancing in and out of the aura of your wick.
“Could you please stay within my view? If I lose another student, it might get deducted from my paycheck.”
> Sweetie Belle seems quite content staying at your side for the time being, and you venture forward.
> It appears to be some warped hallway shaped room of sorts.
> Barrels line the walls, containing unknown but sensibly ominous contents.
> There are no doorways, and it wasn’t even ten feet in when a sphinx stops you from continuing.
> Why is there a prehistorically extinct myth from another reality doing here?
> Applebloom: “Ooo, a sphinx!”
“Why do you know what a sphinx is, and why is it trapped under this house?!”
> The human like face, fit with cat-like eyes, follows into the light with the rest of her lioness body.
> Sphinx: “Please… can I leave now? I have a family to feed, and children to tend to… it’s been months…”
> She looks utterly deprived of sunlight and nutrition, and despite her likely regimen of anything with meat (including you, you’re fearful to admit), she appears to be overwhelmed with weakness to play the traditional games.
> A bit thankful to not have to answer a riddle and risk getting eaten, you’re more than eager to let her past you and out of here.
> However, it appears in your cruel luck that Applebloom has more fascinating plans.
> Applebloom: “Not until you answer my riddle first! Otherwise Anon gets to eat you!”
> The sphinx’s eyes glisten in agony at such humiliation, and nods her head meekly
“Why would you make her suffer any more than she has to now?”
> Applebloom’s smile shines brighter than whatever illumination this candle could hope to accomplish.
> Applebloom: “If she wants to see her loved ones so badly, then it makes sense to give her a trial to pass!”
“She’s been in here for several weeks, I think that’s a test in itself for survival!!”
> Despite this, Applebloom clears her throat to take your day’s lesson into the form of a complex riddle:
> Applebloom: “Depending on when you find me, I can be sweet, juicy, bitter, or even rotten. While I don’t fall far from my parents, my many siblings carry different tastes of their own. What am I?”
> Is that… even a riddle?
> Did she even try?!
> The simplicity and obvious clues sinks you into a misery far worse than this house.
> It appears that the sphinx is stumped, to your bewilderment.
> She’s pawing at her chin.
> Sphinx: “Hm… hm… I’m not sure, give me a moment…”
> Your eyes are bulging in anticipation, and you try mouthing the word to her.
> Thankfully Applebloom doesn’t pick it up as the Sphinx’s eyes follow your lips.
> Sphinx: “An… apple?”
> To your added shock, Applebloom uses a curse word that you won’t be mentioning in this lifetime.
“Applebloom! That’s not language you should be using!”
> Applebloom: “But Applejack and Big Mac use it all the time!”
“Well, there’s a LOT I need to talk with your family about. Mrs. Sphinx, feel free to exit here.”
> The mythical creature graciously passes the three of you, and gives you a slight wink.
> Sphinx: “That’s MS. Sphinx, sweetheart… single, and looking~”
> You cough furiously.
“I will, er… keep that in mind. Go find your family!”
-----
> It appears that the storyline itself was not interested in being cliché, and so the other two trials were voided as you reach the end of the hallway.
> This place isn’t exactly the longest.
> In the pitch black darkness, the only radiance being from your feeble candle, you find the end of the passage.
> In the corner, tucked in a rucksack like a blanket, is a terrified and silently hysterical Scootaloo.
Applejack + Sweetie Belle: “Scootaloo~!”
> They gather around her side, and nuzzle against her affectionately.
> You kneel down and swing forward the hammer of justice.
“Why haven’t you been attending school? You’ve made your friends and myself very worried!”
> Scootaloo: “Apples apples apples apples”
“NANDE?!”
> Applebloom: “Relax, she’s speaking Applenese! Scootaloo, you need to speak Equestrian…”
> Scootaloo: “Ooo… wugh… I got lost in here.”
“But you were skipping school before you missed it entirely!”
> Sweetie Belle: “Your lack of daily education can be harmful to your mental capacity!”
> Applebloom: “Whut was so important that you couldn’t tell us, huh?”
> Scootaloo sniffs, and you pick her up in the sack
“Come on, let’s head home.”
-----
> As you’re walking out, Scootaloo explains that she found a secret trapdoor under the clubhouse.
> After wanting to find a chance to obtain her cutie mark, she slowly explored the one room, going deeper into the darkness despite being a total chicken.
> And one day she went to the end, got lost, and was trapped.
> Apparently she didn’t even meet the sphinx.
> Her sorrows aroused resting evil spirits to defile the clubhouse, it’s cheap frame acting as some sort of final barrier from its eternal gloominess.
> The clubhouse was originally Applejack’s, who eventually explains to you later on that the hidden basement was used by cults and sex lords back in the day, and Celestia sealed it off from the rest of the world.
> The barrels were full of unknown powders, labeled as “angel’s dust” and “cocaine”;
> Probably materials that could lead to world corruption, no doubt.
> Although half hoping that the dark entities would spring out and blanket Equestria in sadness to match your own, you end up burning the entire treehouse down, the now four of you watch as the whole thing eventually turns to ashes.
> Applebloom: “Why did we have to burn it down?”
“Sometimes in order for better things to emerge, it must first rise from the ashes.”
> Scootaloo: “Like my parents?”
“No.”
> Scootaloo: “Oh.”
> Sweetie Belle: “Like the miracles of continued life?”
“In a sense. If you caught fire and lived to tell the tale, I suppose you would be thankful to be alive. Of course, that ignores the likelihood of you suffering 3rd degree burns, mounted medical bills, estranged family and friends; stuff like that, otherwise yes.”
> Soon the fort is nothing more than a burnt depression in the ground, and you give a deep sigh as you place Scootaloo on the grass.
> Applebloom claps her hooves together twice, and lowers her head in prayer.
> Unsure what to make of it, you follow suit in some sort of plea for the great beyond to take this smoldered offering.
> Applebloom: “Please be reborn into a condo!”
“You were praying for that?!”
-----
> Returning to your home, a decent house of moderate unhappiness, you realize you have three foals following you still;
> Applebloom is by your side, naturally.
> Sweetie Belle has taken interest in meshing with your shadow behind you, expected.
> Scootaloo is dragging that ugly mug of a sack around her in some makeshift form of a cape, a couple yards behind you;
> You’ve seen worse.
“Alright, you three, it’s getting late. Don’t you need to be going home soon?”
> Applebloom: “Didn’t ya want to talk to mah family about ‘vocabulization usage’ or somethin’?”
> You put a hoof to your mouth (finally, some stallion action).
“I suppose you’re right. Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo; you two head on home, I’ll see you in class tomorrow, correct?”
> Sweetie Belle: “Affirmative. Recuperate well, Fuchsia General.”
“Quit making derivatives from Applebloom’s poorly created nick name for me!!”
> Sweetie Belle, despite the law of physics, dips into your shadow and relocates herself miles away.
> Or so you thought, you can’t help but feel paranoid she’s watching you from somewhere…
> Somewhere close.
“And what about you, Scoop- oh, right. We burnt your house down, huh?”
> Scootaloo nods sadly.
> Scootaloo: “And all of my few prized possessions and family heirlooms.”
“You can replace those; so, you need a new home!”
> Scootaloo: “*puppy eyes* Yes, somewhere nice and cozy! Do you think you can adopt me a-“
> You’re now at the school, with Scootaloo sitting in a closet with a bunch of towels.
> Scootaloo: “Mr. Anon, this isn’t what I had in-“
> You close the door.
“You’ll get water if it rains tonight, it leaks in the back! This way, I can make sure you’re under my educational supervision, see you tomorrow!”
> You hear slight whimpers from behind the door.
> The classroom turns dark from leaving the school.
“Alright, Applebloom, we’re going to have a talk about ‘the birds, the bees, and inter-family incest’.”
> Applebloom: “I hate bees!”
> End