MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS

Digital Series—Volume One

Unless otherwise stated, production credits for all shorts are as follows:

Written by Gillian M. Berrow

Produced by Angela Belyea

Directed by Ishi Rudell

Co-directed by Katrina Hadley

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Note:                   Titles followed by “CYOE” are “Choose Your Own Ending” shorts. Each of

                            these is structured as an opening segment followed by one of three possible

                            endings. At the end of the opening, prompts for the endings appear on the screen

                            and the viewer must click on the desired one. Headings for individual endings are

                            centered and in bold type, with no underline.

“School of Rock”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a long shot of an exhibit hall in a museum, the camera tilting down slowly from the domed ceiling to floor level. The plants and animal specimens in display cases and wall frames indicate a focus on natural history. Two dinosaur skeletons are set up before a large model volcano and are fenced off by black/yellow-striped caution tape and scaffolding/ladder/crates, and a third model hangs from the ceiling. Maud Pie stands at a display case set up in front of the volcano to address a group of Canterlot High School students. Twilight Sparkle is among them, and Cheerilee has come along to chaperone this outing. Maud wears the same bluish-gray dress and black belt as her pony counterpart, along with dark gray hiking boots and short white socks. Two details of Cheerilee’s clothing have changed from her previous appearances. Instead of flowers, her skirt shows a pattern of zigzag stripes in two shades of green, and she has traded her brown boots in for light green knee-length socks and brown loafers set with daisies.)

Maud: Welcome to “Rock Talks with Maud.” (Closer shot.) Are you ready for rocks?

Voice: (halfheartedly) Woo!

Maud: Me too. I’m thrilled that you are here at the Canterlot Natural History Museum to learn about rocks, minerals, fossils, and last but not least, landforms.

(Cut to her perspective during this last sentence, panning slowly across the group. Most of them look as if they would rather have their teeth drilled, including the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Sweetie Belle dozes off with a snore, but jerks awake just in time to avoid being caught out and earns an irritated eye roll from Scootaloo. The only ones showing any real enthusiasm are Twilight, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, and Cheerilee, and the three girls are dressed in everyday outfits different from their previous threads. All are framed from the knees up. Twilight: short-sleeved shirt striped in light and dark blue with white collar and sleeve cuffs; small pink ribbon tie with the stone from her magical pendant on its knot; purple skirt with pockets and a repeating cutie-mark/star pattern. Pinkie: sleeveless white top with her three-balloon mark, three-layer ruffled skirt whose pink hue darkens from one layer to the next; white tights; blue hair band, pendant around neck.  Rarity: sleeveless blue dress with pale yellow collar trim set with gems and the stone from her pendant; short flared hem with rows of embroidered jewels running down from the waist; longer purple skirt underneath this; gold bracelet on each wrist; blue three-gem hair clip; jeweled blue belt. After Maud finishes speaking, the camera cuts back to her.)

Maud: (gesturing to one side) As you can see, our display is currently undergoing some metamorphic changes.

(Cut to the dinosaur skeletons on the end of this, then back to her after one skull falls off and clatters down to the fake grass.)

Maud: It’s been rocky getting this new one off the ground, and we’re all feeling… (Long pause.) …the pressure. (Her perspective of the apathetic observers.) That’s a little rock business humor for you. (One girl yawns.) Ha-ha.

(A boy keels over asleep; now Pinkie leans into view to give a thumbs-up. This motion exposes a blue bow set with a heart and attached to her hair band on the side previously obscured by her curls.)

Pinkie: Good one, Maud! (Laugh and zip away; back to Maud.)

Maud: Thank you. Minerals are classified as naturally occurring substances formed in a geological process.

(Cut to Lyra Heartstrings and a boy on this line—both bored out of their gourds—then to just behind the monotonic speaker. Zoom in slowly on Twilight and company; Sweetie nods off again. The girls’ footwear is now visible: light blue ankle socks and pink-laced, chunky-heeled purple shoes with pink stars on the toes for Twilight, heart-trimmed sandals with pink straps and stacked blue soles for Pinkie, purple pumps with translucent high heels and blue gem accents for Rarity.)

Maud: They feature a crystalline structure in addition to specific physical properties— (Rarity jolts Sweetie awake with a hip-check.) —and chemical composition. (Close-up.) Now for something really fun. I will point to the sedimentary rocks. (indicating various samples in the case behind her) There. And there.

(Close-up of one stone.)

Maud: (from o.s., pointing to it) There. (The bored students.) That one. (Apple Bloom.) There. (To her again.) And there. That one. There. Look over there. That one.

(The next three lines are spoken over the end of the preceding one.)

Pinkie: Ready for what we planned with Maud?

Twilight: (nodding) Mmm-hmm.

Rarity: Let’s do it! (Pinkie whisks Twilight away.)

Maud: Thanks to the rock cycle— (Close-up of Rarity; she continues o.s.) —we also have these gems.

(Putting one hand to her collar, the purple-haired girl conjures up a quartet of pale blue crystals and projects them ahead of herself.)

Maud: (from o.s.) Friction heats up rocks. (They form a slowly rotating circle in front of the case.) Baked rock doesn’t melt. It forms them into crystals.

(She has not noticed the added bit of special effects, which is going on behind her head, but her audience certainly has.)

Students: (awed) Whoa!

Maud: But all of it starts with hot magma—

(Tilt up to follow the crystals’ drifting flight toward the caldera of the volcano, putting her out of view; they end up in a hover.)

Maud: (from o.s.) —rising to the crust through volcanic pipes.

(They drop in; next Pinkie rises into view, dumps a bucketful of material after them, and heaves the empty over her shoulder.)

Maud: (from o.s.) You might know it as lava.

(Younger sister plucks a small object from her hair and drops it in, setting off a mighty tremor and an intense pink glow within the caldera—the upshot of her power to weaponize anything sweet. She ducks away just before the volcano emits a blast of pink smoke and a cloud of vividly colored sparks, both of which bring laughs and excited noises from the crowd. Only now does Maud take notice of the light show.)

Maud: Magma-nificent. And the process of fossilization— (Cut to Twilight; she continues o.s. as Pinkie whips over.) —is the reason we have these dinosaur bones. (Twilight fires up her pendant.) Imagine, if you will—

(Cut to the two skeletons. As she continues, the bespectacled girl’s telekinesis reattaches the fallen skull and makes them fight, tearing through the caution tape.)

Maud: (from o.s.) —that these colossal prehistoric beasts are walking through the museum right now.

(On the end of this, cut to her audience, now voicing their very great enjoyment of the throwdown. The camera then returns to the skeletons as Twilight’s power brings them to a halt.)

Maud: (from o.s.) Look at that. (Tilt down to her.) You don’t have to imagine. (Pause.) Dino-mite.

(Applause and plenty of cell phone picture-taking; pan from the group and stop on Rarity standing apart from them. Twilight and Pinkie cross to her, the latter giving a wave to Maud. A young girl, her straight dark hair covered by a hard hat fitted with a headlamp, runs up to the geology buff. She speaks with a slight speech impediment that turns her R’s into W’s.)

Girl: As a proud member of the Maud Squad, I just wanted to ask— (pulling out/holding up a book) —will you sign my geology book?

(The camera is now close enough to pick out the button she wears on her overall shorts: a stylized drawing of Maud’s straight hair and emotionless face with hearts in place of eyes. Maud takes the book, fishes a pen from a pocket, clicks it, and gets to work signing the cover. Her pink sister voices a sotto-voce laugh to Twilight and Rarity.)

Pinkie: Look at Maud! She’s ecstatic!

(But the mouth shifts not a whit from its unsmiling set and the blue-green eyes blink at an almost-glacial pace. Twilight is left at a loss as to how the grinning Pinkie has been able to draw this conclusion, but Rarity gives her a “just roll with it” smile and shrug. “Iris out” to black, centered on the trio.)

“A Fine Line”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a pair of yellow-orange legs in ankle-length, high-heeled boots racing through the Canterlot Mall. The boots are dark gray, accented with studded straps at tops and soles, and a tilt up frames their wearer as Sunset Shimmer in an outfit different from both iterations of her previous everyday threads. Short-sleeved, off-the-shoulder orange top emblazoned with her cutie mark; open, dark gray vest whose broad lapels are set with orange studs; magenta skirt with dark gray trim on the seam and one side; studded belt. She is wearing her pendant and a broad, eager grin. A few last bounding strides bring her to the end of a line of customers, just behind Micro Chips and Sandalwood.)

Sunset: Hey! Is this the line for the new Tirek’s Revenge video game?

Sandalwood: Yeah!

(He points forward the camera panning slightly to frame a poster advertising the title just ahead of himself. Resting on a fold-out stand, it depicts Tirek—the Tartarus escapee who tried to steal all the magic in Equestria during “Twilight’s Kingdom”—leering over an expansive labyrinth as an unwholesome red sun shines down. From here, cut to a close-up of Sunset.)

Sunset: Ooh, Rise of Tirek was awesome! I’ve been waiting ages for the sequel! (To all three on the start of the next line.)

Sandalwood: Whoa, whoa. (Chuckle.) This is the line for the line.

(The blue-green eyes pop very wide open as they take in the sheer number of patrons who have queued up, a string of velvet ropes keeping them close to the storefronts. They are passing the time in various ways; one diehard has set up a tent, while another naps in a sleeping bag suspended from the ceiling. A quick pan ahead establishes the head of the line at the entrance to a store that specializes in video games. Back to Sunset, who checks the time on her cell phone and groans with combined weariness and exasperation.)

Sandalwood: (from o.s, reassuringly) Heeey. (Cut to him and Micro, the latter checking his phone.) It’s about the quest with your buds, not the loot.

(The eco-kid puts an arm across the techie’s shoulders and trades a fist bump with him, but these words do nothing to reassure Sunset, who sighs and slumps on her feet. Clock wipe to somewhere up the line, where Derpy Hooves has seated herself in a lawn chair and Lyra defeats Bon Bon in thumb wrestling. Snips and Snails kill time with their own portable gaming devices, and Featherweight and another Canterlot High student work out with dumbbells—the former straining to lift his two. As Sunset glumly picks around with her phone, the camera zooms out to frame Micro and Sandalwood working a hacky sack back and forth on the start of the next line.)

Sandalwood: Can you believe we’ve already been here three hours? (He catches it.) Time flies when you’re with your best friends!

(Laughing, he pivots to face away from Micro and spreads his arms wide.)

Sandalwood: Let’s do trust falls!

(He lets himself topple backward and down o.s., but a hearty, camera-shaking thud speaks to Micro’s failure to catch him.)

Rainbow Dash: (from o.s.) That looks unsafe.

(Sunset brightens at her words; pan slightly to bring her into view, framed from the knees up. Short, unzipped, hooded blue jacket with a yellow stripe down each rolled-up sleeve; white T-shirt with the familiar cloud/lightning-bolt design, as well as a blue stripe around the hem; red/yellow/blue wristbands; close-fitting, dark blue pants with lightning bolts down the legs. She is wearing her pendant.)

Sunset: Rainbow Dash?

(Longer shot. The bolts on the jock’s pants are multicolored, and she sports blue/white sneakers with red laces and soles and yellow lightning on the sides. Sandalwood is slowly dragged away.)

Sunset: I thought you couldn’t make it.

Rainbow: I finished up early. Where’s everybody else?

Sunset: (shrugging) Ah, I didn’t think they’d want to do this. But hey— (Rainbow snaps her fingers as an idea hits.) —at least you’re here.

(But not for long; she vanishes in a speed-boosted blur that threatens to blow Sunset’s red/yellow tresses clean off her head.)

Sunset: (deflated) Aaaand now you’re gone.

(She ducks barely in time to avoid stopping Sandalwood’s hacky sack with the back of her head. He is back on his feet.)

Sandalwood: Oop! Sorry! (throwing arm around Micro’s shoulders) Sometimes things get outta hand when you’re having this much fun with your best friends!

(Cut to a close-up of a sour-faced Sunset, his laugh drifting back to her. Without any warning, Pinkie leans into view from behind her, the footbag riding on her forehead.)

Pinkie: (pulling it off, holding it out as Sunset backs off) Is this yours?

(Her appearance lifts Sunset’s mood noticeably, as does the fact that Rainbow has returned and brought the whole gang along, including Spike.)

Rainbow: Turns out they do want to do this!

(The previously unseen girls’ outfits are as follows. Applejack: white T-shirt with green sleeves and a red apple on the front; denim skirt and brown boots that vary only slightly from her original ones, her usual hat. Fluttershy: blue-green sundress with butterfly accents, light green edging, pink waist sash, and translucent, pale yellow upper-arm sleeves attached to a second pair of off-the-shoulder straps; pink, butterfly-marked sandals with straps that run up close to the knee; green butterfly hair clip. Her skirt is the longest of all, reaching to her knees, and both she and Applejack have their pendants on. Rainbow sidles up to Sunset with a gleeful wink.)

(Dissolve to the girls talking among themselves, Pinkie petting Spike and Rarity goofing with her phone. Applejack has an apple in one hand and a fruit/vegetable peeler in the other; she pivots away from Sunset, applies blade to fruit, and turns back a split second later to present a long string of heart-shaped, wafer-thin slices in the fashion of paper doll cutouts. Sunset is suitably impressed by the deft carving work, but before she can do any more than smile, Pinkie pops up between them with a tray of drinks in one hand and a fast food bag in the other. A cookie is wedged in her teeth, and two others fall off her head as Applejack and Sunset smile at the culinary offering.)

(Dissolve to the line trundling slowly ahead, then cut to Rainbow and Rarity, the latter smirking as she dabs a makeup brush over the open compact she holds. Once Rainbow figures out that it is destined for her face, she ducks down and picks up Spike to let him take the hit. Rarity realizes soon enough that she has missed her target, but just continues making over the bewildered pooch. The line advances a few more steps; now the Rainbooms get an impromptu jam session going, having done away with their previous items. Twilight has a microphone, Applejack her bass guitar, Fluttershy her tambourine, Pinkie a pair of drumsticks to pound on an upended bucket, Rainbow her blue six-string.)

(Cut to a close-up of a stretch of countertop within the game store as a copy of the Tirek’s Revenge game is slid across into a pair of eager hands, then to the entrance. The girls and dog have made it to the threshold, their instruments stowed; now Applejack eats an apple, Pinkie lounges against the velvet ropes, and Rarity is reading a book. Dissolve to them stepping up to the counter inside, the food and reading material put away.)

Sunset: Wow. It’s my turn already?

(On the end of this, cut to a close-up of a game poster. A pudgy, pale gray hand reaches into view and slaps a placard marked with a large red X across its width. Zoom out to show that hand attached to a male cashier with untidy, two-tone magenta hair and patchy stubble on chin and upper lip. He speaks with a pronounced lisp.)

Cashier: Sorry. Just sold the last one.

(The would-be gamer’s spirits sink straight into her boots, but the others are quick to offer consoling smiles and shoulder pats—all, that is, except the suddenly absent Pinkie.)

Sunset: Ah, it’s all right. I got to hang out with you guys. Who cares about a video game? (Pinkie leans into view.)

Pinkie: (pulling poster with her on a stand) Ohhhhh! That’s what we were waiting for? I just thought we were having a super-duper-fun line party! (pulling copy of game from her hair) I pre-ordered it for you weeks ago.

(On the end of this, cut to a suddenly overjoyed Sunset, who takes the proffered piece of software from the pink hand.)

Sunset: You know what the best part of this game is?

Applejack: Uh, the quest?

Rainbow: Th-the power-ups?

Fluttershy: (intensely) The revenge?

Sunset: It’s multiplayer!

(The others, including Spike, cheer wildly. Zoom out slowly and fade to black.)

“Pinkie Sitting”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the front porch of a house. Pinkie stands just inside the open door—this is her home—facing Rarity and a little girl, Lily Pad, whose attention is focused entirely on the cell phone in her hands. Pale yellow skin, lavender hair tied in a ponytail that hangs down one side of her head, blue eyes. Rarity has shed her pendant and changed into a strapless green/blue/purple dress whose flared skirt is cut short in front to expose her legs and the purple shoes she wears with stacked heels/soles and straps reaching up her shins. She has styled her hair into a torrent of voluminous curls, a jeweled silver belt encircles her waist, and she has used violet flowers as accents at all levels from footwear to hair clip. Zoom in slowly. The shadows and the glowing windows of both this house and the neighboring one point to nighttime.)

Rarity: I can’t thank you enough for filling in for my babysitting emploi, Pinkie Pie. I couldn’t pass up the last-minute ticket to the Young Designers’ Gala.

Pinkie: Eh, no biggie-wiggie. I love kids!

Rarity: Ooh, you’re a small pink lifesaver. (hurrying off) Toodle-oo!

(After Pinkie and Lily Pad wave goodbye, the fill-in babysitter ducks back into the house. Lily Pad seems a bit perturbed at being left alone on the porch, and her confusion grows once Pinkie bursts back out amid a salvo of balloons, confetti, and streamers. She has donned a short-sleeved, light blue dress with a pale yellow neck ruff and polka dots in various pinks and whites, oversized gloves, sunglasses whose frames are styled to resemble frosted cupcakes, and blue/yellow-striped stockings with matching shoes. Topping off the outfit is a miniature party cannon on a headband, which has just fired off.)

Pinkie: Hi, Lily! (Who cocks an eyebrow at the spectacle.) Welcome to the best babysitting bash on the block! (hustling her inside) I have all sorts of super-fun stuff for us to do.

(The door closes behind her; cut to inside the living room as Pinkie pushes her through the doorway.)

Pinkie: Do you want to…

(Away she goes in a flash, shedding her shades; she reappears at a table loaded with ingredients and full mixing bowls, having changed into her everyday dress and put on oven mitts.)

Pinkie: …bake a yummy cake, or… (To a table cluttered with party hats and supplies to make more; now she holds paper and scissors.) …make super-silly hats, or… (Back to Lily Pad.) …bake a silly hat-shaped cake?

Lily Pad: (nervously, backing up toward couch) Um…I-I think I’ll just sit quietly and read, if that’s okay.

(Her voice carries a nasal lisp and gives away a high degree of unease. She climbs up and sits.)

Pinkie: Oh! (tossing off oven mitts) Okay.

(She blurs over and sits next to the youngster, close enough to read over her shoulder. There is no further sound except for the ticking of a clock on the fireplace mantel, and the camera pans slowly away from Lily Pad as Pinkie instantly shifts position to move farther down the couch in steps. She goes from her initial read-over-shoulder spot, to sitting a bit farther away, to standing behind the couch with head and arms hanging over the top edge, to lying upside down with feet off the top and head off the front, to lying with her feet dangling over an armrest. Her enthusiasm gradually shifts closer to frustrated ennui with each move.)

Pinkie: Boring!

(The stalled pink dynamo lets one palm flop wearily onto her face, then gets a brainstorm and sits up with a king-size grin. Cut to Lily Pad.)

Pinkie: (sidling up, slyly) Soooo…what’s the story about?

Lily Pad: It—it’s a—it’s about a band of girl pirates who are sailing the seven seas, and one day there’s a big storm and stuff.

(During this line, she suddenly finds herself wearing a hat decorated with the Jolly Roger—skull and crossbones—and the camera cuts away to a clear patch of floor. Here, Pinkie whisks hastily made/colored cardboard set pieces into place to stand for a pirate ship and ocean waves, and takes her place on the scene. She has changed into appropriate buccaneer-captain duds—boots, pants, longcoat, plumed hat topped with a model ship—and added a stuffed parrot to one shoulder and pulled some of her hair around to serve as a beard and mustache.)

Pinkie: Then what happens?

Lily Pad: Um, they get stranded on a desert island.

Pinkie: (whisking back and forth, scattering cookies) Whee! Woo-hoo!

(Cut to a close-up of a cake topped with copious amounts of fruit and whipped cream, being plopped into place on another one, and zoom out. She has let her hair spring back into place and constructed not one, but two towering landmasses of cakes, frosting and fruit, studded with lollipops as trees.)

Pinkie: Mmm! Dessert island!

(She plucks a cookie away, takes a hearty chomp, and offers the rest to Lily Pad.)

Pinkie: (mouth full) Want some?

Lily Pad: (barely audible, averting face) Uh-uh. (Pinkie leans over to her.)

Pinkie: Tell me more! (She zips away.)

Lily Pad: (starting to smile) Um, and then the monkeys—

(Now the pink teen hangs into view, having swallowed her mouthful and changed into a monkey costume. After a moment of chattering like a primate, she hoists herself out of sight.)

Lily Pad: —and the crabs—

(Here comes Pinkie again from behind the armrest, wearing fish-shaped mitts and a colander and a red fabric crab covered with fake green seaweed, the latter covering her skirt and the former topped with tennis balls on stalks.)

Pinkie: (tickling/pinching Lily Pad; she giggles) Pinch-pinch-pinch-pinch-pinch-pinch! (Away again.)

Lily Pad: —and the birds—

(A squawk marks Pinkie’s return, this time wearing a giant flamingo suit with her head protruding from the back.)

Lily Pad: —become the pirate girls’ friends— (Pinkie jumps onto the couch and starts bouncing.) —and they teach them all kinds of cool tricks.

Pinkie: (flapping wings) Pinkie want a cracker!

(She “flies” away with a squawk and a scatter of feathers, then crosses the room as the crab.)

Pinkie: Whee!

(A giggle, and she is the monkey again, then the flamingo.)

Pinkie: Pinkie want a cracker!

(After one last squawk, she plunks onto the couch to catch her breath. Lily Pad looks down at her phone, then smiles at her caretaker.)

Lily Pad: Do you want me to read it to you?

Pinkie: (excitedly) Do I!

(Clock wipe to a close-up of Lily Pad. During the next line, the camera zooms out to frame her still sitting at her end of the couch. Pinkie lies on her stomach, taking up the rest of its length and gazing closely at her through happy, sleepy blue eyes. She has shed all the costumes and is cuddling her stuffed alligator Gummy; a blanket has been drawn up over her. The plumed hat from her pirate getup and a plate of cookies are on an end table.)

Lily Pad: (reading, tenderly) “The pirates waved to their new friends on the shore as they sailed off into the sunset. They lived happily ever after. The end.”

Pinkie: (yawning, drifting off) You’re gonna make a terrific babysitter someday, Lily.

(And she is off to dreamland, snoring lustily. Lily Pad smiles warmly at the prone pink form and pulls the blanket up just a bit farther.)

Pinkie: (whispering in sleep) …monkeys…pirates…

Lily Pad: (laughing softly, patting Pinkie’s head) I hope I’m as good as you.

(Fade to black.)

“Queen of Clubs”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a close-up of a pig trotting through the halls of Canterlot High, wearing an apple-marked harness and clipped to a leash. Applejack’s booted legs keep pace as it grunts contentedly, and both stop after a few yards so it can stretch its legs with a squeal and flop onto its belly. Tilt up to the blonde, who chuckles down at it, then cut to frame Rainbow and Rarity standing near the end of this row of lockers. Rarity takes notice of Applejack and the animal with considerable surprise and a measure of revulsion.)

Rarity: Oh! (Grunt; pinch nose and wave at the air.) Whyever do you have that swine accompanying you to school, Applejack?

Applejack: It’s photo day for all the clubs, and it’s a Young Farmers’ Club tradition— (kneeling, petting pig) —to have your critter in the yearbook picture.

Rainbow: You’re lucky you’re only in one club. (Rarity backs off.) I’m in five this year. (smugly) So busy. (Applejack turns to her, a bit caught out.)

Applejack: (standing) Well, Young Farmers is just one of the six clubs that I’m in. (Rainbow’s turn to be flummoxed.)

Rainbow: (sputtering) Oh, I meant five sports clubs.

(Rarity speaks up, having let go of her nose.)

Rarity: Sweeties, darling loveys! It’s not a competition.

(But the scowl that roots itself on Rainbow’s face when the focus shifts to her speaks very much to the contrary. The view narrows to a horizontal slit that leaves only her glaring countenance in view, seen in profile and facing left. A similar sequence highlights a burst of fierce determination on Applejack’s part as she faces right. The screen goes black and tiles itself with two horizontal panels that slide in from either side, each presenting a close-up of one girl ready to chew up a tree and spit out baseball bats.)

(The panels are pulled away to give a fullscreen view of a photo shoot for the school’s chess club: students gathered behind a board on a table covered with a cloth that shows a black castle and white knight. As Photo Finish makes the final adjustments to her tripod-mounted camera, Rainbow zips into view, moves a piece, and give a grin and thumbs-up—much to the consternation of the regulars. A flash, and the moment is captured on film.)

(In the library, Big Macintosh, Snips, Snails, and Trixie are seated around a table as the members of the role-playing game club. A campaign is in progress, and they wear costumes to symbolize their roles as various character types. As Macintosh rolls a handful of dice, here comes the older of his two sisters, wearing a football helmet with a cardboard unicorn horn hastily taped onto the forehead portion. Flash: the resulting picture shows Trixie standing with one foot atop Snails’ chair while both the other one and Applejack’s elbow rest on Snips’ head. He is rather put out, Snails is trying not to fall onto the table, and Macintosh stands calmly out in front of the strange tableau as his sister winks and flashes a peace sign. This shot reveals a new choice of footwear for Trixie: ankle-length, high-heeled blue/violet boots with pale blue laces, white stars, and gold buckles.)

(Cut to a close-up of Fluttershy sitting on the front steps of the school and zoom out. She, Bon Bon, and Lyra are working on various knitting projects as her rabbit Angel fiddles with a ball of yarn. Right on cue, Rainbow slides in to sit next to her with a ball of her own and a pair of needles; after perhaps one second of far-too-fast-to-follow work, she has turned out a miniature sweater in blue, marked with Canterlot High’s C-horseshoe logo. She gives this to Fluttershy, who puts it on Angel as a camera flash fills the screen. When it clears, the four girls and one disgruntled bunny have been joined by three boys to fill out the knitting club—including Bulk Biceps, who holds up two finished potholders.)

(In the gym, Sunset and four other girls make up the fencing club. All wear full-body protective outfits and are posing with foils, and two are wearing face masks as well. Here comes Applejack behind them, having traded her unicorn helmet in for her usual hat and carrying a freshly uprooted stretch of picket fence over her head—she has misunderstood the club name. She utters a puzzled grunt, which alerts Sunset to her presence.)

Sunset: Huh?

(The picture is taken just as a clump of dirt falls off and lands on one girl’s mask. In the resulting photo, two more girls have had their equipment or persons soiled, Sunset is grinning sheepishly up at Applejack, and the two in the masks are broadcasting their disgust at the interruption quite clearly even though their faces are completely covered.)

(Applejack and Rainbow pass in the hall. The farmer has ditched her fence and is carrying a detector of some type, while a set of green goggles rests on her forehead; the latter is toting a hockey helmet and goalie’s stick. They stop and take notice of each other, glaring pure hostility as the screen narrows to a horizontal band that highlights their faces and the beam burning across the gap between both pairs of eyes. A white flash grows from this to fill the screen, then snaps to a full view of Twilight, Rarity, Derpy, and Flash Sentry lined up behind a laboratory countertop as the chemistry club. All wear lab coats and safety goggles, Twilight has gloves on as well, and Flash holds up a test tube. Here comes Rainbow without the hockey gear and with goggles on, face/clothing singed and hair blown back and smoking from an experiment gone wrong. She grins as the other four give her funny looks and the picture is taken.)

(The front steps: several members of the marching band pose with instruments and majorette’s baton. Applejack darts in, her goggles and detector gone; she has switched her hat for a “shako” helmet to match the others’ uniforms and is holding a triangle. The moment is immortalized on film. In the art classroom, a cleaned-up, goggle-free Rainbow leans in and holds up a crudely scribbled likeness of her own face, creating mild puzzlement among the other members of the art club before the camera does its thing.)

(The front lawn, the camera positioned slightly above ground level to frame five cheerleaders—three girls, one boy, and Applejack’s pig no longer in harness—tottering precariously back and forth in a slightly lopsided pyramid, with the boy supporting the others. A quick tilt down shows his feet on the shoulders of a grinning Applejack, who has ditched her shako and is using her magic-based strength to keep them aloft. The picture captures all six of them. In the hall, Applejack and Rainbow end up walking side by side, the former carrying the shako, the latter with a quiver of archery arrows slung over one shoulder. When each realizes the other is there, they glare daggers at one another as the screen narrows to a horizontal band.)

(A flash of white fills the screen and clears for a full view of a new picture: Rainbow having horned in on Pinkie and the rest of the baking club, without the quiver and showing off a burned pie among the others’ much more appetizing offerings. Another flash, and Applejack has traded her shako for a cape and rose to strike a pose with the drama club. Another: Rainbow is with Pinkie, Snips, and Snails, all appropriately tricked out as hip-hoppers from their past ventures into the genre. Another: in the library, Applejack grins and holds up an abacus among Twilight, Micro, and three other techies—an inventors’ club, judging from the equipment on display and the mechanical puppy Twilight holds, built by her in the “Mad Twience” short. Another: now Rainbow has joined a club whose members—Twilight, Pinkie, and two other girls—all wear wigs in various styles and colors.)

(One final flash shifts the action to the cafeteria during lunchtime. Fresh yearbooks occupy nearly every set of hands. Zoom in slowly on five of the Rainbooms at a table on the far side of the room, then cut to a slow pan along and stop on last two as they approach. All seven have shed their props, and Applejack and Rainbow sit down with a weary sigh in unison. Tiredness lasts only as long as it takes them to shoot each other a nasty look and start flipping madly through their yearbooks.)

Applejack: Well, the scores are in— (slamming hers shut) —and it’s a darn tootin’ tie!

(A disgusted groan escapes her lips as she lets it fall flat on the table and thumps her face down on top of it.)

Rainbow: (closing hers) You have got to be kidding me! (Set it down; Applejack raises her head.) After all that?

Applejack: At least between the two of us, we joined every single club at CHS.

(A throat-clearing from the o.s. Rarity shakes them out of their self-satisfaction; cut to their side of the table, facing her.)

Rarity: (leafing through her book) Not all the clubs.

(Her perspective, she holds it up toward them, open to a particular page. Green and red-violet eyes widen as Applejack takes hold.)

Rainbow: How did we miss that one? (Back to Rarity, chin balanced on fingers.)

Rarity: Ah-ah-ah, darlings. It’s very exclusive.

(Finely sculpted brows rise over smug blue eyes, and the camera cuts to a close-up of the page’s top half and tilts down. The fashionista is cuddling Applejack’s pig, which wears a gold tiara worked in a heart design and a purple bow around its neck. Human and porcine faces are both made up for the occasion.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) Is that…my pig?!?

(Zoom in on the porky pink face as she finishes, then cut to Rarity.)

Rarity: Oh, well, of course. (pulling it up from beneath table) You can’t expect me to be the president and the vice-president.

(It squeals happily as the view “irises out” to black, centered on them both.)

“Overpowered”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a busy hallway inside Canterlot High. A very worried Sunset walks along, wearing a pair of purple earmuffs whose band is set with small studs, and an otherworldly hum of background noise plays through her mind. She freezes in her tracks near Sandalwood, who is rummaging in his locker, and hears a familiar young voice loud and clear.)

Voice of Sweetie: My science project is gonna be overdue!

(The underclassman in question scrambles past on this line, toting an armload of books, and Sandalwood smiles—but his words in Sunset’s head set off a fresh twinge.)

Voice of Sandalwood: Hey! Jellybean!

(He bends down to do some more digging; now Trixie struts past. Where “Queen of Clubs” showed her new boots for the first time, this shot presents the knee-length blue socks she has chosen to pair with them.)

Voice of Trixie: (singing) Trixie is great, Trixie is powerful…

(Clapping her hands to her covered ears, Sunset hurries toward the camera.)

Sunset: (loudly) La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-laaaa!

(Dissolve to one of the music practice rooms, where all the Rainbooms save Rainbow and Sunset have gathered. Applejack and Fluttershy are sitting on the risers, Pinkie on the piano, and Twilight and Rarity stand near the drum kit. The camera is positioned at ground level a few feet ahead, and Sunset’s boots step into view in time with her frustrated sigh; cut to her, removing the headgear, on the start of the next line.)

Sunset: Well, the earmuffs don’t work. I’m now hearing everything everyone’s thinking without even touching them! (crossing to others) Is anyone else experiencing a sudden, uh, surge in their powers today?

Others: (hesitantly; Pinkie o.s.) Uhhhh…

(Sunset’s eyes widen in unexpected shock; zoom in quickly as they blaze white and her pendant starts to burn red. The screen fills with the swirling colors that accompany the use of her telepathy, then clears to present a magically enhanced memory of Fluttershy walking through the school, her pendant glowing yellow. She stops and puts a bemused hand to it; within moments, a multitude of happily chirping birds have congregated around her. A longer shot discloses the dogs and cats that have started to follow her as well, not to mention a few incredulous students who have witnessed these proceedings. She offers a sheepish grin.)

(A flash of white shifts the view to Twilight riding a bicycle down the block and properly helmeted, with Spike riding in its front-mounted basket, during the evening. They are framed from the seat up; the bike is painted in a shade of violet slightly darker than her skin, and the basket is decorated with her cutie mark and a pair of wings. The pendant set in her collar’s ribbon tie ignites, and a glimmer of magic lifts vehicle and riders off the pavement so that they end up silhouetted against the full moon. This motion exposes a cutie-mark design set into the spokes of both wheels.)

Twilight: (fearfully) Whoooaaa!

(Flash to Applejack, inadvertently tearing the door off her school locker as her pendant goes off. Onlookers gape and murmur among themselves.)

Applejack: Uh…

(She tries to jam the door back in place, but only succeeds in crumpling the sheet metal. Flash to a close-up of Pinkie in the cafeteria, idly tossing an apple in one hand. It goes an incandescent shade of pink in time with her pendant’s flare, and its next trip up and o.s. is marked by a room-shaking blast. Down comes a spurt of brand-new puree that soaks the magenta curls and leaves her thoroughly confused.)

Pinkie: Huh?

(Zoom out slightly. Bon Bon sits to one side of her, DJ P0N-3 to the other; both have been caught in the splash zone and are not at all happy about it. One last flash shifts the view back to an extreme close-up of Sunset’s face in the here and now; zoom out as her eyes and pendant return to normal. She is no longer holding her earmuffs.)

Sunset: (smugly) So you have! (catching herself) Sorry. I just heard all of your thoughts. (shrugging) Can’t help it. (Cut to Twilight.)

Twilight: (adjusting glasses) Fascinating! I wonder what’s causing it.

(The one missing girl is at her side in a fragment of an instant, pendant blazing blue. Her next three lines and accompanying actions look and sound as if she is stuck on fast forward.)

Rainbow: Hi, guys! I just ran here from the soccer field in three seconds! Wait, hold on!

(She clears out and returns in a trice, now carrying a backpack.)

Rainbow: Forgot my backpack! (She digs out a sandwich and takes a bite, disliking the taste.) Yuck. This needs mustard.

(Off she goes again, dropping both items; she returns carrying a bottle of the condiment and snatches the sandwich out of midair as Twilight’s pendant kicks into gear.)

Rainbow: Super speed is where it’s at, am I right? It’s like, I can’t stop ’cause I’ve been getting so much done!

(She squirts mustard onto the sandwich and bites down, leaving a smear across her lips, as the egghead notices the glowing stone at her own collar. Cut to Fluttershy/Rarity and Applejack/Sunset in turn, each pair seeing that their own pendants are chiming in.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Okay. (Back to her and Rainbow.) I may have a theory about what’s going on with our magic.

(Pinkie leans into view toward the pair, her pendant lit up like all the others, and gives Rainbow a penetrating look. Dissolve to a close-up of a stretch of blackboard that shows an annotated DNA molecule and a set of line graphs.)

Twilight: (from o.s., pointing to board) Our geodes are all connected.

(Zoom out. She has set the board up in the practice room and covered the rest of it with further diagrams and sketches, including a set of bell-curve graphs in the girls’ signature colors. Her pendant has gone dormant; the same will be true of the others when they are seen next, and Rainbow is back to normal speed, sandwich gone and face clean.)

Twilight: So the more each of us use our magic for everyday tasks, the more all of our powers become supercharged and go… (waving hands) …haywire! (Cut to Sunset, now sitting on the risers in a much better mood.)

Sunset: Since Rainbow was using her super speed for everything, all of us experienced an uncontrollable boost. (Longer shot: she and all the others are seated, and she glances smugly toward Rainbow.)

Applejack, Fluttershy: Pinkie, Rarity: Ohhhh!

(These four pairs of eyes swivel toward the athlete with perceptible annoyance for having set this minor crisis in motion.)

Rainbow: (chuckling abashedly) Whoopsies.

Rarity: Oh, so long as we use it in moderation, our magic should stay under control?

Pinkie: And our geodes will go all glowy if it’s about to get whack-a-doodle-doo? (She lets her eyes spin in their sockets on this last.)

Twilight: It seems that way.

(The audience of six nods and murmurs approval, with a “Yeah!” from Pinkie mixed in.)

Zephyr Breeze: (from o.s.) Hey, Rainbows!

(On the end of this, cut to him lounging at the doorway. He wears his blond hair in the same messy topknot as his pony counterpart, Fluttershy’s younger brother—see “Flutter Brutter”—along with a fringed brown/blue paisley vest, no shirt underneath, blue jeans with lighter trim at the cuffs, and brown moccasins. A beaded bracelet is on each wrist, and a medallion set with Pony Zephyr’s feather/wind-gust cutie mark hangs on a cord around his neck. The chin is dotted with stubble.)

Zephyr: There you are. Do you want to go to the mall with me?

(Back to her on the start of the next line; she shoots to her feet in a sudden panic.)

Rainbow: (sputtering, ready to run off) Uh, I forgot I have to be at a…

(She deflates upon seeing the frantic/disapproving/angry looks from her six friends.)

Rainbow: …a…a thing.

(Realizing that magic will not get her out of this jam, she plods toward the door and throws them a “help me” glance. Zephyr plants an arm on the doorframe to block her exit.)

Zephyr: (very smarmy) Okay.

(She moans wearily, but outsmarts him by ducking under the arm and is out in the hall to wave goodbye with a big stupid grin.)

Zephyr: (confusedly) Okay. (She clears out.) That’s cool, I don’t care anyways.

(Off he goes. Fluttershy covers her face with her hands, mortified at her brother’s shameless flirting, as the other five laugh themselves silly. Dissolve to Sunset standing uneasily in the middle of a teeming hallway and wearing the earmuffs. She removes them, hears not one word from the minds of the students around her, and voices a sigh of relief at the abatement of her telepathy. Fade to black.)

“The Finals Countdown”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an extreme close-up of a ringing school bell. The camera then cuts to a Canterlot High classroom whose students include all seven Rainbooms. On the start of the next line, cut to Cheerilee at the blackboard, holding up a test answer sheet. A calendar hangs on the wall behind her, with one date circled in red.)

Cheerilee: And I hope you’re all prepared, because final exams are in two weeks.

Military drum cadence with string accents, deliberate 4 (D flat minor)

Shouted lyrics are in square brackets

(Cut to a slow pan across the girls, six of whom take this announcement very badly. Rarity gasps; Applejack pulls her hat over her eyes; Sunset stares flatly ahead; Pinkie cries out and claps hands to cheeks; Fluttershy whimpers and hunches down behind her notebook; Rainbow groans. The only smiling face is Twilight’s.)

Twilight: Don’t worry, girls. We’re gonna ace these finals!

(Wipe to a close-up of her pacing before a blank bulletin board, having changed into a hooded sweatshirt, put her hair up into a bun, and shed her pendant. She stops to face the other six, who are occupying themselves in assorted ways that most definitely do not include studying, on the floor of her bedroom.)

Bass guitar accents in

Twilight:                         Hey, it’s true, no stopping now, you’re facing a big test

(She hefts a stack of books and lets fly.)

                                            So much to do, so much to learn, so bring it, be your best

Acoustic/electric guitars in

(They land before the girls or in their laps; one jolts Rainbow out of her nap, and Twilight waggles a disapproving finger at her.)

                                            Feeling doubts, forgetting facts won’t get you to the top

(She spins the board, which is mounted on a rolling frame, and reveals a schedule grid drawn on the chalkboard that makes up its other side. Each column is headed with a different girl’s cutie mark. Now sweat pants and sneakers can be seen below the sweatshirt’s hem. She pulls a whistle from one pocket.)

                                            If you’re gonna make it, you got to pull out all the stops

(A math textbook slides across the screen, pushed by her hand; behind it, wipe to Applejack and Sunset goofing off—tower of books and video game, respectively. Twilight paces behind the pair and narrows her eyes at them. Sunset hastily drops her game and snatches a notebook with a placating grin, causing Applejack’s construction to collapse.)

Twilight:                         You got to rise up to the top of the class, go straight to the top of the class

(A violet hand yanks a hidden fashion magazine out of the textbook Rarity has been pretending to study, then stops the notebook Rainbow has been twirling on one finger.)

                                            Rise up to the top of the class, go straight to the top of the class

(She stands before the board, now erased and chalked with an equation, and clicks a stopwatch. The others begin to puzzle it out, Pinkie whipping a cookie from her hair and munching down.)

All instruments out except for pizzicato double bass and minimal percussion

Twilight:                         The hardest part is getting going, to get your mind on track

(She writes the solution on the board, which Sunset also has on her paper, but the speech balloons that appear over the other five heads prove that they are nowhere close and rather demoralized.)

                                            Put aside all those distractions, ’cause there’s no turning back

Double bass out; strings/bass/cadence in

(Angel hops into view and off a tower of texts, knocking a sketchbook loose. The topmost page shows a dress design with measurements and calculations, giving Twilight pause.)

                                            But you know that it gets better when you see the end in sight

Guitars in

                                            Take it on, start going strong, you can get it right

(She grins as a very big idea takes hold.)

Rainbooms:                        You can get it right

(Wipe to Rainbow crouched down for a start on the school’s running track. Pinkie, Rarity, and Spike sit alongside with flash cards in hands and mouth, and Fluttershy stands with a stopwatch at the ready. As soon as the nature lover hits the button, the speed demon is off in a striped blur that blows the cards away, then passes Applejack and grabs a piece of chalk from her hand. Stopping at a small blackboard, she scribbles down a solution to an algebra problem, which Twilight confirms with a nod as a kneeling Sunset watches from the sidelines. As Rainbow jumps for joy, Twilight checks off a box with her cutie mark on a clipboard-mounted checklist. There are seven, one for each girl.)

Rainbooms:                    You got to rise up [Up!] to the top of the class, go straight to the top of

     the class

(The cloud/bolt fly toward the camera, and the view clears to show Rarity stitching a garment in her bedroom. It has numbers and gridlines worked into it, which draw an approving nod from Twilight, and the designer’s box is checked off.)

                                            Rise up [Up!] to the top of the class, go straight to the top of the class

(The three gems fly out, after which the view changes to Twilight and Sunset playing chess in the school library. The former unicorn makes a move that surprises the former Shadowbolt considerably; both get some hearty yuks out of the result, and Sunset gets her box marked. Twilight has already checked her own by this point.)

You got to rise up [Up!] to the top of the class, go straight to the top of

     the class

(The checklist is yanked out of view; behind it, wipe to a puzzled Fluttershy kneeling on the front lawn. Twilight sits with her, as do Angel and a few birds; he shows a flashcard, she states an answer, and both girls beam as Twilight ticks off the box.)

                                            Rise up [Up!] to the top of the class, go straight to the top of the class

Strings/guitars out, but gradually sneak back in; low synthesizer chords in

Percussion drops back to bass drum only, but gradually builds

Intensity builds (Shift between A flat major and minor)

(The paper butterflies hurtle toward the camera and clear away to show Twilight standing at a blackboard. She turns away from it and holds up a balloon marked with a mathematical expression; her audience is Pinkie, and they are in one of the classrooms. The party lover brings up a deflated one of her own, blows into it, and shapes it into a decimal number; Twilight takes out a pin and pops hers to reveal a slip of paper that matches this answer. She proudly shows it to Pinkie and marks off the appropriate box.)

[Error: The problem asks for the square of the fraction 7/5. The correct value is 1.96, but Pinkie answers with 0.28.]

Rainbooms:                        Flash by flash, card by card, remembering all that you know

                                            Put yourself through all the paces, take a seat, it’s time to show

(The clipboard is pulled away; wipe to Applejack in a shop classroom, holding up a light bulb that she screws into place on a wooden contraption fitted with others. Zoom out; it is a model of a chemical molecule, wired to a battery, and the press of a button brings all the bulbs to life and earns a gleeful grin from Twilight.)

                                            Step by step, start it small, look how much you can grow

(The brainiac checks off the last box; Sunset sits on Twilight’s bed and sharpens a pencil; Rainbow cracks her knuckles; Applejack and Pinkie nod confidently to one another; and all six students sit in Twilight’s bedroom, pads and pencils at the ready.)

                                            Now you’re looking at all aces, take a seat, it’s time to show

A flat minor

(Twilight paces before her blackboard, aims a proud smile at them, and blows her whistle as the screen fades to white. Snap immediately to Cheerilee’s classroom; Twilight is back in her normal outfit and hairstyle, and all are hard at work on their exams. Angel pops up on the back of Fluttershy’s seat to give her an encouraging nuzzle.)

Rainbooms, Students:               You got to rise up [Up!] to the top of the class

                                                    Go straight to the top of the class [Gotta rise up!]

(Rainbow spins her pencil distractedly for a second, then catches it in a burst of insight and puts it to work. Applejack and Sunset keep chugging along, the latter lifting her pencil with a smile.)

Rise up [Up!] to the top of the class

                                                    Go straight to the top of the class [Gotta rise up!]

(Around her hand, the screen tiles itself with six more vertical panels; within these, seven hands raise seven pencils and let them fall as one, point down. From here, cut to Cheerilee seated at the front desk, grading papers. As Fluttershy and Sunset trade a smile, she stands up and begins slapping them onto the girls’ desks, face down.)

Rise up [Up!] to the top of the class

                                                    Go straight to the top of the class

(Rarity lifts hers, eyes squeezed shut and face turned away as if it might explode on contact; once she risks a look, though, she is instantly all smiles. Within moments, Twilight finds herself on the receiving end of grateful, appreciative expressions from all six of her friends.)

                                                    And you know you can make it

                                                    You know what you got

(Cut to just outside the front entrance; the Rainbooms burst out and triumphantly hold up their exams, with no grade lower than an A-minus.)

                                                    You got to rise up

Song ends

(Zoom out slowly and fade to black at the same time.)

“Star Crossed”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a close-up of Twilight standing at a mirror and touching up her hair. Tucked into one edge of the frame is a “selfie” photo of herself and Timber Spruce, both beaming from ear to ear.)

Twilight: Oh, I’m so excited for my, uh…

(Zoom out slightly as she turns away from the glass. She is in her bedroom, and she makes quotation marks with her fingers to emphasize her next word.)

Twilight: … “hang-out” with Timber Spruce.

(Longer shot; Fluttershy sits on the bed, scratching under Spike’s chin with her backpack in easy reach.)

Twilight: (pacing) First, we’re gonna peruse the exhibit on gravitational fields for thirteen minutes. (picking up her own pack and a thermos) Then we’ll marvel at the vastness of the universe during the planetarium show. (Close-up of the drowsy, yawning dog; she continues o.s.) And finally, we’ll enjoy cups of hot cocoa and casual conversation as we spot constellations in the night sky.

(Cut to Fluttershy on the end of this.)

Fluttershy: Oh, that all sounds lovely! You’re sure it isn’t too much for one hang-out?

Twilight: No! It’s all going to go exactly as I’ve planned—perfect, that is.

Fluttershy: I got something special for your big night—  (fishing in her own pack) —just in case.

Twilight: (sliding thermos into her pack) Aw, that’s so sweet! You didn’t…

(She finds herself at a loss for words when the pale yellow hands extend a jar filled with live, dark-colored, nondescript insects toward her.)

Twilight: (uneasily) …have to?

(Dissolve to a long overhead shot of a space-themed museum under a darkening sunset sky. Situated on a cliff overlooking the city proper, it consists of two buildings with domed roofs and floor-to-ceiling windows, connected by a glassed-in walkway, and an observatory removed to a short distance away. Zoom in slowly and cut to Twilight standing outside the main entrance with her backpack slung up. She waves to the approaching Timber, who wears a light gray T-shirt under an unbuttoned red work shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a green vest marked with an argyle pattern and yellow shoulder stripes. Tan pants; brown hiking boots; knit cap; brown bracelet on each wrist.)

Twilight: Hey, Timber! Want to go inside and see the gravity exhibit? (grinning nervously) It’s really pulling me in. (Weak chuckle.)

Timber: (returning a knowing one) On account of the gravitational pull?

(He is surprised at first to get a big, forced, dopey laugh, but his usual calm takes over and he ambles past her toward the doors. Realizing how foolish she has just made herself appear, Twilight claps a hand to her forehead with a disgusted little moan and blush. Cut to within an astronomy-themed exhibit hall, panning slowly as they cross the floor, and cut to them. Twilight is carrying an unfolded guide brochure and eyeing it with some bewilderment.)

Twilight: But it says that the exhibit should be right here—

(They stop facing a statue of an elderly man dressed in robes and pointed hat, both of which are decorated with stars and crescent moons and hung with jingle bells. One arm holds a stack of books close to the chest, the other hand lifts a model of an atom, and the bottom half of the face is hidden by a thick beard and mustache.)

Twilight: —next to the statue of Starswirl!

(The Bearded, that is, whose pony version appeared in “Shadow Play.”)

Timber: Maybe it got sucked into a…black hole?

(They share a laugh over the bad science joke, but one glance at her watch throws Twilight into a brand-new tizzy.)

[Continuity error: The watch suddenly appears on her wrist in this sequence.]

Twilight: Oh, no! (pulling him away by the wrist) The planetarium show’s about to start!

(Cut to an extreme close-up of a planet model as two hands lift it off its pedestal and out of view, exposing the two standing just behind it in a different area. A new angle frames the owner of those hands as a rather crotchety old man up on a ladder; this is the planetarium, whose equipment he is in the process of dismantling. Bins of other models rest on the floor.)

Old man: All shows are canceled for the rest of the day!

(He throws the one he holds in with the others. Close-up of Twilight, who sighs dejectedly.)

Timber: (crossing to her) Hey, that’s okay, Twilight. (hand to shoulder) It’s not the end of the world. (She pulls in a sudden happy gasp.)

Twilight: The telescope! Come on!

(Once again, she tows him away. Cut to a long shot of the observatory under a sky that has darkened into night and filled with foreboding gray clouds. The telescope has retracted into the domed roof—no stargazing to be had tonight. Tilt down to frame the two hangers-out standing on the steps leading up to its entrance, Twilight now carrying her backpack instead of wearing it, then cut to a close-up as they sit down side by side and she sets it down. Each has a paper cup in hand—hot cocoa from Twilight’s thermos—and she gazes despondently down toward hers. An extreme close-up picks out the tiny star marshmallows swirling on the surface of the liquid. Both take a sip, only for their eyes to pop in sudden pain.)

Timber: (flapping hand near mouth, as Twilight sputters) Owww! Hot!

Twilight: (ditto) Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot! Ow!

(Setting her cup aside, she continues sadly, with the classic lisp caused by a scalded tongue.)

Twilight: Oh, I’m so sorry, Timber. Nothing’s gone as planned. (Timber puts his down.) We got lost, the show was canceled, we burned our tongues, and now the sky’s too overcast to spot a single star! (Sigh; rest chin in hands and elbows on knees.) And I was really hoping to impress you.

Timber: (chuckling nervously, scratching back of neck) Tell me about it. (pointing upward) Now how am I supposed to impress you by pointing out the constellations of Equuleus, Pegasus, and Cassiopeia?

(Twilight gives him a wide-eyed smile, her voice back to normal.)

Twilight: You know where those are?

Timber: Uh…I may have done a little astronomy studying in preparation for tonight.

(She cocks a knowing eyebrow at him and shifts one leg, nudging her backpack and dislodging the lid on the jar of insects Fluttershy gave her. The contents begin to glow yellow.)

Timber: (scratching back of neck) Okay. A lot of studying.

(The unexpected, curious behavior of the jar gives them both a turn: it bounds up a foot or two on its own as the insects shoot skyward—lit fireflies, every one of them. The jar falls back into her pack once it has emptied itself, and the living motes of yellow light swarm into position before them as a stand-in for the obscured star field. Twilight stares transfixed at the display.)

Twilight: (softly) Consider me…

(Timber blushes and takes her hand in his, and her cheeks soon tint as well.)

Twilight, Timber: …starstruck.

(Cut to a long shot behind them, framed as silhouettes on the steps, and tilt up slowly as they lean a bit closer and some of the fireflies rearrange themselves into a heart. The sky behind them fades to black, and they do likewise soon after.)

“My Little Shop of Horrors”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a long shot of Twilight, Spike, and Principal Celestia standing outside the entrance to a greenhouse during the day. The structure stands at the end of a stone path that winds through a lawn marked by flowerbeds, trees, fountains, and a gazebo. Zoom in slowly. Twilight has tied a pink apron over her everyday clothes and is holding something behind her back, and she has traded her usual purple shoes for short boots in the same color. During the following line, a wisp of green magic meanders into view and the camera cuts to a close-up of Twilight and Celestia. The object is a watering can, held in the teen’s work-gloved hands, and the school official carries a ring of keys.)

Celestia: Thank you for looking after my garden while I’m away on vacation, Twilight.

(The magic vanishes into the container, kindling a spot of glowing emerald.)

Celestia: I really appreciate it. (She hands over the keys and departs; the light vanishes.)

Twilight: I’m so excited, Spike! (holding up can) I even brought my own watering can!

(Tilt down to ground level as she moves toward the double doors, the faithful canine following with a chuckle. This shot is close enough to pick out the pink stars on her boots.)

Twilight: This is the perfect chance to expand my knowledge of botany!

Spike: Let’s get to it!

(Both enter; cut to inside. She sets the can down on a ledge and picks up a broom to sweep up fallen leaves.)

Light stoptime string melody, fast 4 (F major)

Twilight:                         Give a little and you get a little

                                            And you care a little and it starts to show

Stoptime ends; woodwinds in

(Setting the broom aside, she takes up the can and pets Spike.)

                                            Growing things is easy

                                            If you just give it room to grow

(She makes a circuit of the area, not noticing that the can has started to glow faintly as she dispenses the water. As some of it washes over the screen and drains away, she glances off to one side; cut to her perspective of four small, slightly droopy flowers in separate pots. The magic gleams at the base of each stem, and within seconds they have straightened up and opened their petals.)

Twilight: Oh! (Giggle; back to her.) Well, hi there, little guys. How are you doing?

(She starts to bob her head in time as they sing to her.)

Flowers:                         Give a little ’cause you care a little

                                        And you try a little and it starts to show

                                        Growing quick is easy

                                        When you just get some room to grow

Brief horn flourish

(Another bit of irrigation, and all four go through a growth spurt. Now Twilight twirls among the benches, distributing charged-up water, and stops to caress a few fronds and petals.)

Twilight:                         Starting small but growing taller

                                        All you need’s a little love, a little care

                                        A little for you, a little for you

                                        And maybe just a little more over there

Drums/bass in

(Many more voices join in from all sides. One flower grabs at the can with its leaves, startling her so badly that she nearly drops it.)

Plants:                                Give a little ’cause you care a little

                                        And you tip a little and you make it pour

                                        Growing big is easy

                                        When you just get a little bit more

Energetic rock; horns in; faster 4

Stoptime

(One adds a foot or two of height very quickly, while another tips the nozzle toward itself.)

Twilight: Ooh…you too? (Yet another taps her shoulder.) And you? Well…okay. More?

(The can is lifted from her hands by a specimen that has sprouted a red-lipsticked mouth.)

Strings/woodwinds out

Lipstick:                         Gettin’ a little isn’t quite enough to satisfy

(A different one snatches it away, but Twilight recovers it quickly. Male.)

Male plant 1:                  I’d like a little more, please, can you help me? I’m a-dyin’

Cactus:                               Please, I’ll be your best friend, you can tell me all your woes

(A potted bush glares down at Twilight through flower “eyes,” with two long leaves positioned to resemble hands on hips, and grabs the can to give itself a drink.)

Bush:                              Shove over just a little bit, I need some room to grow

Stoptime ends; piano in

(Twilight reclaims the vessel, only for two neighboring flowers to start yanking it back and forth. She pulls out her cell phone and composes a series of text messages to Applejack, represented in pictorial icons and strings of frantic exclamation points.)

Male plant 2:                                              Come on, Twilight, help me out, I’m thirsty, I need love

Male plant 3:                                          Over here, I need some

Male plant 2: (spoken in rhythm)           Hey, bud, you don’t gotta shove!

Piano out (F minor)

(She pockets the phone and seizes the can, only to find the animate flora trying to commandeer it from all sides.)

Plants:                                Help us, Twilight, we need more, that’s the water we adore

(Applejack peeks in from the greenhouse door.)

                                        Just a little extra taste, don’t let a droplet go to waste

Applejack: (over end of previous) Whoa!

G flat minor

(The plants repeat their previous two lines under the following exchange.)

Applejack: What the hay is goin’ on here?

Twilight: I don’t know what happened! I was just watering them and…and…

Applejack: It’s that waterin’ can, that’s what!

(Close-up of it, emitting its otherworldly glow, on the end of this.)

G minor

(Another repetition under the following, which begins with a vine dragging Spike away.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) It’s got magic all over it!

Twilight: What do we do?

Spike: (sobbing, now hanging upside down) TWILIGHT!! (Applejack runs to a valve on the wall.)

Applejack: Quick, try this!

Song ends abruptly as she pulls the handle

(After “just a little extra taste,” the plants instantly go silent under a torrent of water from the greenhouse’s overhead sprinkler system. The deluge fills the screen for a moment, then drains away to reveal that everything and everyone is back to normal, except for the minor inconvenience of being sopping wet. The plants have reverted to their original sizes, the magic has dissipated from them and Twilight’s can, and Spike drops neatly into Applejack’s arms.)

Twilight, Applejack: Phew!

Celestia: (from o.s.) Oh, and Twilight…

(Cut to just behind them. All eyes are trained on the doors, where Celestia has just peeked in; zoom in quickly on her.)

Celestia: …just be careful not to over-water the plants. Have fun!

(Off she goes again, leaving the genius and the farmer to trade extremely confused glances at their principal’s evident obliviousness to this latest bout of utter insanity. Spike, though, just smiles up at them both before the view snaps to black.)

“Display of Affection”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the showroom of the Carousel Boutique. A headless mannequin torso is mounted on a pole, outfitted in a short, sleeveless blue/pink dress with a ruffled, two-layer skirt and pale yellow bows down the front. Two people stand facing each other across it. One is Rarity, nervously smiling and clasping her hands; she is dressed in the outfit she wore while working at the Canterlot Mall clothing shop in the “Good Vibes” short—see that transcript for details. The other is this world’s version of Prim Hemline, the highly critical fashion judge who figured in “Rarity Takes Manehattan.” Her skin is a darker gray than her pony counterpart, but the brushed-back pink hair, lined, disapproving violet eyes, gold-framed purple earrings/brooch, and blouse and ruffled tie are present and accounted for—the blouse being white rather than pale gray. The rest of her outfit consists of a short, gold-trimmed blue jacket whose sleeves end in ruffled white cuffs that nearly cover her hands, pink slacks with off-white trim at the cuffs, a brown belt, and reddish-pink high heels. She wears red lipstick.)

Prim: It’s absolutely… (poking dummy) …adequate.

Rarity: (sighing blissfully) After working here for months and months, I knew I’d finally do something to catch your eye!

Prim: In a couple of days, a style scout from Canterlot City Fashion Week is visiting our shop. (gesturing across room) I need a window display with something fresh.

(On the start of this second sentence, cut to just outside the shop’s entrance; a girl stops to consider the dress and handbag on display in a front window. The view then shifts back to Prim before she continues.)

Prim: I would like you to design and execute it.

Rarity: (thunderstruck) Really! (Gasp.) Thank you, Ms. Hemline! You will not regret this!

(The boss takes a few steps away, showing her pony self’s thread/scissors cutie mark on the back of her jacket, but stops and lifts a finger for attention without pivoting.)

Prim: Oh, and Rarity… (Head turns; violet eyes narrow to a glare.) …don’t mess up. (Exit.)

Rarity: (calling after her) Thank you for the opportunity!

(Close-up; she sighs, deflating for a moment, but is quick to regain her confidence.)

Rarity: (to herself, flicking a curl) I thrive under pressure. One does not become a diamond without pressure.

(A calculating smile stretches her mouth from ear to ear. Dissolve to a close-up of her, wearing this same expression and now walking down a street in her everyday clothes. All that resolve evaporates with her next four words.)

Rarity: (sobbing) IT’S TOO MUCH PRESSURE!!

(Zoom out slightly as she catches up to Sunset.)

Rarity: What in heavens will I do? I have tried everything! Fringe! Appliqués! Cheese! The muse has left me. (Close-up of Sunset.)

Sunset: I’m sure you’ll have an idea soon. You can’t force artistic inspiration.

(As she finishes speaking, a chorus of awed murmurs asserts itself and she stops short, having found a few people blocking her path. Rarity leans out from behind one, the camera zooming out to frame more of the rubberneckers and then cutting to behind them. The cause of the hubbub is a roof-tall graffiti mural painted on an alley wall: a swirl of clouds with runnels of brightly colored paint dribbling down from the edges, and with beams in other vivid hues connecting it to a cracked red heart below. Tilt up slowly as some take pictures on cell phones and others disperse.)

Rarity: Another piece by the secretive street artist Flanksy! (Cut to her and Sunset; she turns away.) I wonder what it’s like not to want credit and praise for one’s genius creations.

Sunset: (a bit uneasily) Yeah, uh…me too.

Rarity: This mural is everything I want to say— (throwing arm around Sunset’s shoulders, guiding her away) —but through paint instead of fabric!

(Dissolve to the upper reaches of the Carousel Boutique, seen from across the street, and tilt down to ground level. Night has fallen, and Rarity can be seen in one of the two front windows that flank the door, wearing her work outfit and applying paint to a display backdrop. The varied green hues form a marked contrast with the pinks and violets of the ensembles worn by the two mannequins, one per side, and the backdrop Rarity is painting is a sloppy mess of sun, hearts, flowers, and monochrome rainbow stripes. The other one is little better. Sunset approaches for a look; cut to just inside the window. She taps to get the aspiring designer’s attention, and Rarity waves in reply and steps out. Back to the sidewalk as she emerges from the shop.)

Sunset: (hesitantly) Uh, it looks like you found your muse again.

Rarity: (with a forced giggle) Yes, uh… (Clear throat.) …it’s a post-modern installation piece celebrating the creative process… (deflating) …oh, who am I kidding? It’s atrocious! This window’s not avant-garde, it’s avant-marred!

Sunset: Maybe there’s a way we can save it.

Rarity: (voice breaking) It’s supposed to be finished by tomorrow!

(She trails off into a sob, crumpling to her knees and letting one palm squeal its way down the glass. By the time she reaches the sidewalk and stands up again, her mascara is already running.)

Rarity: I’m going home! (Cut to Sunset; she continues o.s.) Au revoir, career!

(And off she goes at full wail. Sunset turns to give the haphazard paint job a long, searching look and begins to stroke her chin as the little gray cells start to work. Dissolve to a close-up of Rarity, about as far down in the dumps as it is humanly possible to go. It is now the following day; she plods along a sidewalk, having cleaned her face, but stops short with a soft gasp. Cut to the Carousel Boutique, seen from across the street, quite a few passersby have gathered before the windows and are making noises of hushed awe. Even from this distance, and partly obscured by the groups, the displays can be seen to have undergone a marked color change. Rarity takes note and hurries across for a better look, gasping deeply as pictures are taken. On one side, a mannequin is outfitted in a winged dress whose bodice is designed as a diving bird, with the hem and accompanying headpiece styled as masses of clouds; a lightning bolt hangs from either side of the latter. The outfit is done in shades of blue-green and completed with a pair of high-heeled, platform-soled, knee-high boots that continue the cloud motif in their stitching. The backdrop depicts bolts in assorted colors issuing from a bank of storm clouds, and is rendered in the same style as the alley mural.)

(Pan quickly to the other side, where Rarity had been working the night before. Here, the clouds are hung with hearts in varied colors, and the mannequin wears a short, sleeveless violet dress with matching boots. The dress has a pink-edged heart on its bodice, the skirt is covered by a long gauzy pink/violet train decorated with hearts that is cut to fully expose the skirt and matching violet high-heeled boots. The head is topped by a pink hat whose crown is flattened and flared out to extend well past the ears; more hearts depend from the edges, with two pink ones positioned to stand in for the mannequin’s eyes.)

(As Rarity gapes at the radical redesign, Prim makes her way up to the front of the throng with arms crossed.)

Prim: Hmmm…I don’t know how you did it, Rarity, but congratulations.

(She walks off, the camera panning slightly to frame the mouth of an alley across the street. The focus remains on Rarity, but the colors of the blurred image standing half out of sight mark it as Sunset. Once the blue eyes catch sight of her, their owner turns for a better look and the camera cuts to a close-up. Sunset has switched her vest for a dark gray jacket with the collar turned up and used a matching baseball cap to cover as much of her hair as she can—which is to say, not much. The features are set in a smirk, and the smudge of paint on one cheek solves two mysteries at once. She, the window display ace, and the elusive Flanksy are one and the same. Sunset wipes off the paint, tips her cap with a wink, and disappears into the alley. Rarity gasps sharply at the realization, then allows herself a grin of understanding about her friend’s hidden talent. “Iris out” to black, centered on her face.)

“A Little Birdie Told Me”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a long overhead shot of Canterlot High during the day. Zoom in slowly as three birds fly into view toward the building, then cut to Cranky Doodle standing at the front of a full classroom. Fluttershy and Trixie are among his students, and the window near the pink-haired girl is partly open. A roll-up projector screen has been pulled down to cover part of the blackboard.)

Cranky: All right, kids, notebooks away. (rolling up screen, revealing a math problem) Quiz time!

(Loud groans from all except Fluttershy, who smiles as one of the three birds, red, comes to rest on the sill. All of her lines will be spoken in whispers until otherwise noted.)

Fluttershy: Oh, hello there, Hubert. Is everything okay?

(Hubert twitters and flaps in a most agitated manner for some seconds.)

Cranky: Only number-two pencils, got it? Okay… (Cut to Fluttershy; he continues o.s.) …begin!

Fluttershy: (to Hubert) Oh, we’ll talk after the quiz, okay?

(He nods as the other two arc down toward the window. Trixie, seated directly behind Fluttershy, moans loudly and mashes her face against her paper.)

Trixie: (mumbling) I hate math.

(She looks up from the page, to the sound of chirping, and finds all three feathered interlopers gathered around Fluttershy and having a heated discussion.)

Fluttershy: Uh, slow down! You’re all talking at once! What is it?

(The two who came in after Hubert take over the explanation; cut to Trixie staring wide-eyed and gradually shifting to an indignant glower.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s., writing) Oh, I see. If you take four from that one and divide them equally— (Zoom out to frame her.) —that sounds like a solution to the problem, Reginald! Good thinking.

(Hubert, on her hand by this point, flutters down to the desk; he and the other two scatter out the window as Trixie rises to her feet and puts a hand up.)

Trixie: Mr. Doodle! (Fluttershy starts in shock.)

Cranky: (slightly irritated) Yes?

Trixie: The Honest and Observant Trixie has reason to believe that Fluttershy is cheating!

(She points an accusing finger on the end of this, bringing a deep blush to the yellow cheeks and a gasp from the rest of the class. Cranky just glares quizzically out of one eye.)

Trixie: Yes! I saw her talking to those birds!

Cranky: Fluttershy! (crossing arms) Cheatin’ is a serious offense.

(Now Fluttershy’s voice resumes its normal speaking volume.)

Fluttershy: I swear I wasn’t cheating! I was whispering to the birds because they were having an argument over sticks for their nests, and—

Trixie: An argument? Sounds made-up.

Fluttershy: No, no, no, no. See…

(Close-up of the birds, now back on the sill.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s., pointing to each speaker in turn) …Hubert thought that Reginald was stealing from his. But I told him— (Reginald, green, flies in.) But I told him— (Cut to her; he lands on her fingers.) —“Surely you can tell the difference between oak and poplar sticks.” (nuzzling him) Right, sweetie? (Giggle; she pokes him gently.) They don’t know anything about math.

(He returns to the sill as she gets serious.)

Fluttershy: But I studied really hard for this test.

Trixie: (smugly, arms crossed) Sure you did. (Fluttershy, incensed, stands and turns to her.)

Fluttershy: Hey! I know my stuff!

Trixie: So prove it, then.

(The resident bird whisperer strides to the front of the room, eliciting slightly awed looks from her classmates. She erases the problem that had been on the blackboard as a tiny little seed of fright takes root in Cranky’s mind. Close-up of her savagely smiling face, swiveled to look him dead in the eye.)

Fluttershy: Go on.

(The view narrows to a horizontal band, framing her from forehead to chin. On each of her next three words, the camera cuts to a closer shot until the entire view is filled with two blue-green eyes under fiercely lowered brows.)

Fluttershy: Make my day.

(Fullscreen: now well and truly scared, the teacher thumbs through his textbook and indicates a particular page. After a moment’s thought, Fluttershy steels herself and snaps the tip off a fresh piece of chalk. The hand gripping it moves swiftly and surely, putting up row after row of formulas, and the onlookers gasp in muted surprise. Fluttershy keeps working, the end of her tongue protruding from the corner of her smiling mouth; now it is Cranky’s turn to stare in disbelief before the chalk snaps in half. Gasps and exclamations of fear rise from the audience, but she continues on with one of the stubs. Behind her, Trixie’s righteous anger slowly begins to shift into unease and then real fear, just in time for Fluttershy to reach the bottom of the board and face the class with a gently confident smile. Cranky takes a good close look at the text before speaking up.)

Cranky: (holding it up) She’s correct!

(The rest of the class cheers this academic triumph, but Trixie plops into her seat with crossed arms and a simultaneous scowl and embarrassed blush at having been shown up. Fluttershy giggles as the three birds circle in to perch on shoulder and palms.)

(Dissolve to Hubert and Reginald in a nest on a tree branch, doing nothing of particular importance.)

Trixie: (from o.s., hooking one hand onto branch) Hello?

(She climbs up into view, making them a bit skittish, and hangs her upper body over the limb.)

Trixie: The Great and Powerful Trixie needs a tutor. Uh, which one of you knows trigonometry?

(Snap to black.)

“Super Squad Goals”

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an open comic book whose pages depict various members of the Rainbooms, both singly and in groups. One panel shows a cupcake, while another presents a city street intersection in front of a skyscraper. Pencils, pen, and eraser are scattered around the issue. Zoom in on the street panel until it fills the screen, the level of detail shifting from “comic” to “realistic.”)

Sunset: (voice over, dramatically) Meanwhile, in Canterlot City…

(Traffic begins to roll through the junction; cut to the seven girls on a sidewalk.)

Rainbow: A whole day in the big city to do whatever we want! (Cut to Applejack and Rarity.)

Rarity: (giddy) Ooh, just think of the fashion!

Applejack: (patting stomach) The food!

Pinkie: (popping up) The frolicking! That’s short for “frosting licking.” (rubbing hands eagerly) I’m gonna get my hot little hands on the new dessert trend—the Puffcake. Half cream puff, half cupcake.

(She voices a shuddery, ecstatic moan as hearts float up around her.)

Rarity: The city is our oyster!

(Their planning is rudely interrupted by a crash of glass and the blare of a burglar alarm. The word “SMASH” erupts within an explosion graphic to fill the screen, its letters fractured, and the view pans to a comic-book close-up of a hand reaching in through the shattered window of a jewelry store. As before, the detail level shifts to “realistic” and the hand withdraws, holding two necklaces. A male voice speaks up.)

Male voice: HEEELLLP!!

(Longer shot from ground level: the miscreant is a male in a hooded sweatshirt and pants, with a bandana covering the lower half of his face to leave only a wedge of pale blue-violet skin and two-tone purple hair exposed above his blue eyes. He stuffs the loot into a backpack and sprints away as the speaker, the store owner, emerges and Rarity’s high heels plant themselves in the fore.)

Store owner: (pointing after him) He’s getting away with my jewels! (Rarity gasps.)

Rarity: The Puffcakes will have to wait… (She grasps her pendant stone; it glows blue.) …for justice!

(Seven swift flashes later, the girls have “ponied up” and are in the superhero-styled outfits they manifested to take on Gloriosa Daisy at the end of Legend of Everfree. Rarity creates a flat gem sheet and rides it into the air like a surfboard, while Rainbow charges after her well in excess of any known speed limit. The other five get their feet in gear to give chase. Glancing briefly over his shoulder, the thief rushes into a museum, whose doors slam shut behind him. Applejack is first to grab the handles and pull, only to find them now locked; she shrugs helplessly, but Rainbow gets an idea and races off. Rarity has disposed of her aerial ride by this point. Cut to within an alley, the camera pointing toward its mouth, as she comes around the corner. “ZOOOOM!” appears in her contrail, the colors becoming slightly muted as the entire scene goes to “comic” detail again, with one added modification: the vertical height of the image narrows slightly, approaching letterbox aspect ratio. Rainbow’s figure freezes, but she continues to drift slowly forward.)

(Normal color, speed, and appearance resume a moment later, and she skids to a stop at a service entrance. She has barely enough time to get fingers on the door handles before they burst open, throwing her backwards as the thief barrels out. “CRASH” in an explosion graphic fills the space behind them while the same muted, comic-style semi-freeze frame plays out for a moment. It ends with the fugitive beating feet out of the alley and Rainbow flat on her back, babbling incoherently as stars describe a lazy circle around her dazed eyes. The other six throw the doors open from inside, and Fluttershy and Sunset help Rainbow to her feet.)

Twilight: (pointing) That way!

(Cut to the thief, still making good time through the city; a backward glance, however, informs him that the teen heroes are closing in fast. Soon he is in a park and passing an elderly woman seated on a bench to do some knitting. Applejack stops, uproots the whole thing with the woman and her bag of yarn still on it, and throws it ahead to the horror of Twilight and Sunset. It comes down empty in the thief’s path, but he simply vaults over it and keeps moving, the hood of his sweatshirt sliding off his head. The woman and her bag plunk neatly down onto the bench, she not having dropped a single stitch.)

(As the thief continues his getaway, he looks ahead and “!!!” appears by his suddenly widening eyes. Just ahead, a young boy on a bicycle coming toward him and on a collision course. The hit is accompanied by “BUMP!!”, the view shifting briefly as before, and the boy comes out wobbling badly as the thief races away. Here come Pinkie and Sunset, the latter hurling herself across the intervening empty space toward a pond, where the boy is about to fall in. “JUMP!” and the same brief style change mark her successful flying tackle; once the view returns to normal, the bike goes into the water and both boy and girl find themselves being lifted away in Twilight’s telekinesis. They are set down safely on dry land, and they wave to each other as the boy runs off.)

(Rainbow whisks into view, and the seven trade puzzled looks and shrugs before Pinkie gets an idea. Producing a jar of sprinkles, she taps a few onto one palm and tosses them away. Cut to a screenful of hedge, behind which two spots of pink light flare up, each accompanied by “POP!”, and burst to leave a pair of neat side-by-side holes burned through the leaves. Two big blue eyes peer through these, flicking from side to side before locking straight ahead with “!!” to accentuate her surprise. Cut to her perspective, seeing the running man duck into an alley, then back to her.)

Pinkie: (standing up, hedge and all, pointing) He went this-a-way!

(She charges off, still wearing the foliage and scattering leaves behind herself, but no longer holding the jar. All too soon, the thief finds himself at a dead end, “!?!” appearing to point up his sudden shock. He turns to face seven good-and-angry teens, Pinkie having discarded the hedge. He braces for a fight, but one “ZAP” later he finds his arms pinned to his sides by an encircling band of Rarity’s gems. The style shifts briefly as before, then back again; now the ivory-skinned girl has a fresh salvo idling above her raised hand.)

Fluttershy: Oh, um, excuse me, but, um, can we please have the jewelry back now?

(Right on cue, here come two birds to nip the necklaces out of his backpack, dislodging the bandana over his face in the bargain. Fluttershy catches the items, and one bird roosts on her finger to nuzzle her cheek happily; next Sunset steps forward and puts a palm to the face of the captured criminal. Her eyes burn white as her telepathy kicks in; a moment later she removes her hand, breaking the link.)

Sunset: You didn’t need to give her the jewels to impress her. (Rarity’s constructs disintegrate and he sinks to his knees.)

Thief: (tearing up) I’m so sorry. (He starts sobbing.)

Sunset: But now you’ll have plenty of time to think about that.

Rainbow: From jail!

(Close-up: he looks up at them with sad shiny eyes as prison bars slam down in front of him. Dissolve to an extreme close-up of a cupcake’s pleated paper wrapper and zoom out. Held in Pinkie’s fingers is a confection that can only be the “Puffcake” she sought—cupcake topped with layers of cream-puff filling and pastry, the whole surmounted by pink icing and sprinkles. She regards it with blissfully glimmering eyes before stuffing the whole thing into her mouth, including the wrapper. A longer shot and slow pan frame all but Rarity enjoying these treats, Pinkie with an armload of her own and Fluttershy feeding one to the bird she befriended. All are back in their everyday clothes and have dispelled their equine features.)

Pinkie: (among others’ sounds of pleasure) It’s everything I’ve dreamed of!

(Still longer shot: they are outside the jewelry store, whose window has been repaired, and the owner has had the stolen goods returned to him and is shaking hands with Rarity. She too is back to her regular outfit and appearance, and she takes a dainty bite from a Puffcake provided by Applejack upon turning back to her friends. As soon as the sweet stuff hits her tongue, bright red hearts replace her eyes.)

Rarity: Mmm…

(The image freezes and resumes its “comic” level of detail as a red pencil extends into view to add some more hearts around her head. Zoom out to put it on one page of the comic book seen at the start of this short, the other panels showing the group’s celebration, then cut to a longer shot of the desk on which it lies. The artist is Sunset, who flicks a startled glance up from the page and then smirks to the camera, pencil twirling idly in one set of yellow-orange fingers. Fade to black.)

“Best Trends Forever”                                                                                                 (CYOE)

Written by Whitney Ralls; story editing by Nick Confalone

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a close-up of Flash. The jacket he has worn up to this point has been switched out for a dark gray hooded sweatshirt with his shield/lightning-bolt insignia at one shoulder, and he has slightly re-styled his hair. Seen through the viewfinder of a video camera, he stands before a poster of a day-by-day weather forecast that is taped up on a city skyline backdrop.)

Flash: Cloudy mornings will clear up in a flash…

(He whips out his electric guitar and scrubs out a riff as the camera zooms out slightly, framing a long desk with a red cloth drape hanging from its front edge. Taped to this is a picture of the Canterlot High logo, marking the entire production as a school newscast. Flash hops onto the desk as the notes die away.)

Flash: …giving us clear skies all week to jam out to this tune. (Zoom in to a close-up.) And that’s your Weather in a Flash.

(A wink, finger snap, and dazzling smile constitute his sign-off. Cut to the production crew, which consists of one girl working the camera, another holding a microphone on a long pole, and a third with a clipboard in the school library. Twilight, Pinkie, and Rainbow look on as Flash exits with his axe and Rarity takes his place, carrying a handbag. Twilight is reading a book.)

Rarity: (sitting on desk, placing bag alongside) Thank you, Flash. (Camera-eye view of her.) Now for this week’s most essential forecast—trends. Featuring me, Rarity. (Cut to Pinkie and Rainbow; she continues o.s. as Rainbow gives a thumbs-up.) Your on-trend friend.

(Back to her, one pale hand dipping into the bag.)

Rarity: As always, I look to Prim Hemline’s style guide for inspiration.

(Which is apparently coming up short, if the sudden panicked look on her face tells true. She peeks inside, a cut to her perspective revealing that there is no style guide among the few loose items within. She sighs; cut to her, not seen through the camera.)

Rarity: (uneasily) Which I have memorized, so, uh… (Her perspective of the camera trained on her.) …the latest trend simply has to be…

(Camera-eye view, in which she begins digging madly in the bag, then a close-up.)

Rarity: (to herself) Don’t panic, Rarity. You once made a skirt out of slap bracelets. (Her perspective, eyes darting wildly around the library.) You can find inspiration anywhere.

(After her gaze comes to rest on her friends, the view cuts back to her, paralyzed in a moment of indecision. Three prompts appear around her on the screen, one corresponding to each of them, and the blue eyes flick from one to another as a timer appears and counts down from ten seconds. Once it reaches zero, it fades away.)

“Choose Twilight Sparkle” ending

(Snap to a camera-eye view of Rarity, her composure fully recovered, and zoom out slightly.)

Rarity: The latest trend—smart is chic!

(Cut to Twilight, who finds herself on the receiving end of slightly befuddled stares from Pinkie and the camera operator, and zoom out to frame the entire group. Long pause.)

Twilight: What?

(Wipe to her walking down a hallway and still reading, trailed by Trixie, Snips, and Snails—all three of whom have donned eyeglasses. The two boys’ frames match hers, while Trixie has gone for a cat’s-eye style.)

Trixie: (as all stop) Twilight, the Great and Powerful and Smart Trixie has a question for you and you alone. How do I get to that cool place filled with those little bound stacks of paper?

Twilight: (really baffled) Books? Do you mean the library?

(Longer shot: they have stopped near Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, standing together and sharing a book. Silver has swapped her usual blue-framed spectacles for a duplicate of Twilight’s, and Diamond wears a pair as well.)

Trixie: The library!

Twilight: Down the hallway to the right.

Trixie: (running off) Library, here we come!

(The violet genius gets a few steps away, but stops when Silver pivots to her.)

Silver: Twilight, which word is cooler? “Boronic” or “onomatopoeia”?

Twilight: Well, they’re both kind of bombastic.

Diamond: (excitedly) Bomb-tastic? Oh, I love that! It’s like “da bomb” plus “fantastic”!

Twilight: No. “Bombastic” means “overly florid in an attempt to sound impressive.”

Diamond: (snarky tone) Wow. Bombastic much?

Silver: (ditto) Ooooh! You just got incinerated!

(She voices a snide little chuckle as the two snobs go on their way. Twilight stares after them, finding that every Canterlot High student in her field of vision is now sporting her preferred thick black frames. Among them is Bulk, puzzling over the abacus he holds in one hand.)

Twilight: What’s gotten into everyone?

(Several more parade past her, carrying Micro overhead.)

Students: (chanting) Sky-ence! Sky-ence! Sky-ence!

(This odd bit of behavior, including their sudden inability to pronounce the word “science” correctly, leaves her at a loss. Cut to the cafeteria, where Fluttershy and Rarity are seated at a table and eating as Twilight brings her own tray up. A purple cape with a blue fur collar is draped around the fashionista’s shoulders, and neither she nor the animal lover is wearing glasses.)

Twilight: (sitting between them, holding up her book) There’s a month-long wait list to check out the sequel to the book I just finished.

(Rainbow, sitting across from her, takes it and scrutinizes the cover. No lenses here either.)

Rainbow: Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Arthropods?

Twilight: (scoffing) Not everything, obviously. Why is everyone suddenly into all the stuff I’m into—and taking my books?

Rarity: (smiling weakly) I may have taken the teeniest, tiniest little bit of inspiration from—well, you. (deflating) I’m sorry, Twilight.

Twilight: Oh! (smiling) That’s okay, Rarity. I’m flattered. Besides, trends come and go— (arm around Rarity’s shoulders) —but friendship is always in fashion. (They hug.)

Twilight, Rarity: Ooooh… (Pull apart.)

Rarity: And not to worry.

(She stands up from her chair, exposing a lacy hem on her cape.)

Rarity: (wrapping it around herself) Dramatic capes are about to pop!

(Almost as soon as she throws it wide open again, the students carrying Micro happen by.)

Students: Sky-ence! (They stop short and goggle at her.) Capes?  (Pause.) CAPES!!

(They peel out in an amped-up cacophony of chatter, leaving the hapless techie to slam to the floor. As soon as he gets his wits about him, though, he bounds after them to get in on the new fad. Fade to black.)

“Choose Pinkie Pie” ending

(Snap to a close-up of Rarity, who gasps as a sudden flash of inspiration hits and the camera zooms out quickly to frame Pinkie watching.)

Rarity: Confetti! Of course!

(The unfazed Twilight continues with her reading and Rainbow’s eyes widen in disbelief. Between them, Pinkie hyperventilates happily as the camera zooms in.)

Pinkie: Confetti? (darting from one person to another) I love confetti, and parties and cupcakes and surprises, but most of all…

(The rapid fire series ends with a camera-eye view of Rarity, in front of whom the pink nut pops up to draw a lung-bursting breath.)

Pinkie: (shaking camera) …CONFETTI!!

(Cut to Rarity approaching her locker, whose door flies open to eject a blast of the multicolored paper bits into her face at absurdly high speed. She finds her hairstyle thoroughly ravaged as Twilight and Applejack walk up, both wearing their own loads of confetti on hair and clothing.)

Applejack: (shaking hat clean; Twilight dusts herself off a bit) Can the next trend be a little less…messy, Rarity?

(Twilight uncorks a violent sneeze that propels a burst toward Rarity; she blocks it by conjuring up a gem shield for a moment.)

Rarity: (cleaning herself off) Oh, this place needed a little color, don’t you think?

(She has barely closed her locker before it and several others pop open to send confetti flying every which way.)

Applejack: If Principal Celestia sees this, we’ll be in trouble. (winking) Let’s get to cleanin’!

(A rain of confetti tumbles past the camera; behind it, wipe to a close-up of a scatter on a patch of floor, under which one of Rarity’s constructs has been formed. A broom sweeps a few last scraps into the pile, and a zoom out puts the tool in the pale teen’s hand. She levitates the gem and tips it to dump the confetti into a waiting trash can. Elsewhere, Applejack ties up a bulging trash bag nearly as big as she is, slings both it and a second one over her shoulders, and hauls them away. Twilight lets her magic pitch a small pile out the nearest window and walks away, whistling innocently. All three have brushed themselves clean, and Rarity’s hair is back to its usual immaculate state.)

(They come together to survey the results of their cleanup, but surprise registers on their faces when Pinkie pops up between them.)

Applejack: Party’s over, Pinkie Pie.

Pinkie: A party? And I missed it? Aw, shoot! I was busy spreading the joy of confetti to the whole entire school!

Twilight, Applejack, Rarity: We know!

(Celestia steps into view from around a corner and runs an eye over the tidy hallway.)

Celestia: (walking off) Great job cleaning up, girls. (Stop at her office door.) Pinkie Pie, lay off the confetti, okay?

Pinkie: (glumly) Okay.

(One hand turns the knob and pushes the door in…the eyes widen in a split second’s purest terror…and a mighty detonation of that very stuff thunders out to fill the screen. It clears to show the hallway filled from end to end, nearly up the lockers’ handles. Pinkie’s three bewildered friends and one hacked-off principal put their heads up from the brand-new mess.)

Rarity: (sighing) This afternoon’s trend forecast…detention. (The missing girl “swims” past, doing the backstroke.)

Pinkie: Whee!

(She giggles merrily as the view fades to black.)

“Choose Rainbow Dash” ending

(Snap to a camera-eye view of Rarity.)

Rarity: The latest trend has to be… (suddenly beaming) …rainbows! Sherbet, sprinkles, or rainbow hair, it’s all in! (Cut to Twilight/Pinkie/Rainbow on the last word.)

Rainbow: Well, duh!

(Dissolve to a head-on view of Rarity walking down a hallway. During the next line, cut back and forth between her and Trixie rooting around in her locker—with a noticeable change in her hair color: rainbow-striped instead of two-tone pale blue.)

Rarity: Oh, so glad I found you, Rainbow Dash. I am tailoring a particularly tricky pinafore. (Laugh.) And I was wondering if—

(The aspiring magician shuts the door and turns to face her straight on.)

Trixie: The Great and Powerful—

Rarity: (unnerved, passing her) Oh, thank you, uh, but I—but I’m late for…b-being over there.

(Relief washes over her features as she glances off in another direction. On the start of the next line, she comes up behind another figure with long multicolored hair; however, a visible shirt sleeve and gray wedge of face give this one away as not being Rainbow either.)

Rarity: (laughing airily) Oh! I just had the most embarrassing mix-up. (turning figure toward herself) I thought I was talking to you—

(She recoils o.s. with a sharp gasp upon finding herself staring into the crossed amber eyes of Derpy Hooves.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) B-B… (Cut to her, backing away slowly.) …no, no, no, it ca-can’t be.

(Down the way, she finds Snips and Snails wearing Rainbow-style wigs.)

Rarity: (backing off) Oh! Excuse me.

(Her next run-in is with a broad, stooped figure that proves to be Granny Smith done up the same way. Letting off a shrill yell, she stumbles backward and falls to a sitting position against the lockers, only for a beefy white arm to extend a hand in an offer of help. It belongs to Bulk, in a pair of shorts and a gray tank top marked with a barbell, and his extended, varicolored locks wave in an unseen breeze. The blue eyes cut jumpily this way and that as she allows him to pull her upright and starts off down the hallway. Some of the students she passes have donned Rainbow wigs, while others have dyed their own hair to match her color scheme.)

Rarity: (voice over, stoically) Submitted for your approval. A portrait of a school taken over by a trend—namely, a hairstyle, rainbow in nature. The calling card of one Roy G. Biv.

(Only a collision with a pale green figure in a paisley vest and no shirt snaps her back to the present. Zephyr has decided to get on the bandwagon, and he undoes his topknot to let the vividly hued strands wave free and fill the screen for a moment, after which Rarity cautiously eases into a side passage.)

Rarity: (voice over) So if you choose to enroll in this class-wide craze— (She backs up toward an idle Rainbow.) —hurry up and catch the bus headed for the Rainbow Zone.

(Upon making contact, the freaked-out fashion expert whirls to face her and fires off an eardrum-popping scream, waving her hands in front of herself as if to ward off an attack. For her part, Rainbow barely even blinks.)

Rainbow: Oh! Hey, Rarity. I don’t know what it is, but everyone looks awesome today!

(“Iris out” to black, centered on her obliviously grinning face.)

“Fluttershy’s Butterflies”                                                                                             (CYOE)

Writing and story editing by Nick Confalone

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a close-up of a poster hanging on a wall in a Canterlot High hallway. It depicts a young woman silhouetted against the full moon and crossing a pickaxe and shovel above her head. Zoom out to frame all seven Rainbooms gathered around and peering intently at it.)

Rainbow: Auditions for the fall play!

Applejack: I can’t believe we’re doin’ Dazzled this year!

Rarity: Ooh, nothing holds a candle to the glamour of legitimate theater. I was born for the lead. (Applejack smirks to herself.) Selfie Soot! (Southern drawl) A coal miner’s daughter with the heart of a dancer. (Pinkie zips over to her.)

Pinkie: Let’s all do the play together! (Excited squeal; close-up.) It’ll be like planning an amazing party where everything has to be perfect, or we get embarrassed in front of the whole school. Right, Fluttershy?

(The sound of a high-speed bug-out catches her ever so slightly off guard. When she and the others turn toward the timid teen, they find nothing but a rapidly fading dotted-line silhouette and dust cloud to mark her exit. Rainbow gives Applejack a confounded shrug before the view dissolves to the busy library, in which Fluttershy can be partly seen behind the railing of one flight of stairs leading up to the second level. She is sitting on the floor and facing away from the camera. Applejack and Rainbow, up top, cross to the stairs and make their way down.)

Fluttershy: (softly, hesitantly) I’m Fluttershy, trying out for Coal Miner Number Two.

(On the end of the previous, the camera cuts to a close-up of the pair, the athlete silently pointing her out to the farmer. They stop just above Fluttershy’s level at the sound of her clearing throat, and Rainbow sits on the stairs as she continues.)

Fluttershy: Down here, we mine for coal. (Applejack sits as well.)

Rainbow: Uh, you okay, Fluttershy? (Fluttershy turns to them.)

Fluttershy: Oh, it would be so fun to be in the play with all of you. But when I think about trying out onstage, all alone… (sinking lower, shaking head) …mmm-mmm.

Rainbow: You perform all the time with the Rainbooms.

(Fluttershy turns away from the pair, giving a full view of the play script she clutches.)

Fluttershy: Well, it’s different when we’re all together. It’s less…terrifying.

Applejack: (standing up) You know, I got just the trick for stage fright.

Rainbow: I bet I could help too.

(Cut to these two as she stands up; now DJ P0N-3 can be seen in the background, standing behind her turntables at the top of a different flight of stairs.)

Rainbow: In half the time as Applejack!

Applejack: It ain’t a contest. (slightly needled) But if it were, I’d win. (Fluttershy turns to them.)

Fluttershy: Really? (standing up) Hmmm…who should I pick to help me?

(Prompts for all three girls appear around her head, accompanied by the ten-second timer that appeared in “Best Trends Forever” as her eyes shift from one to another. It fades away at zero.)

“Choose Applejack” ending

(Snap to a close-up of Applejack standing near a chicken coop on the grounds of Sweet Apple Acres during the day.)

Applejack: Sure-firest cure for stage fright is to picture everyone in the audience as a bunch of chickens.

(On this last word, the camera cuts to a longer shot that frames both her and Fluttershy. This coop and a duplicate are set up behind the Apple family house, and a couple of the birds are pecking at the grass and dirt. Fluttershy is no longer carrying her script.)

Fluttershy: Chickens? (Both squat down to one.)

Applejack: (chuckling, petting it) A little “cluck-cluck” and it’ll pluck you right up. You never heard of this trick?

Fluttershy: (shaking head) Mmm-mmm. (Applejack stands up.)

Applejack: Everyone does it—and I mean everyone.

Fluttershy: (to the chicken) Even you?

(It responds with clucks and squawking that bring a touch of surprise to the yellow face.)

Fluttershy: Oh!

Applejack: Told you.

(Dissolve to a very nervous Fluttershy standing alone on the stage in the Canterlot High gym.)

Applejack: (memory) Picture everyone in the audience as a bunch of chickens.

(The last word echoes in Fluttershy’s mind as she looks out across the room. A cut to her perspective discloses rows of chairs on the gym floor. Front row: Twilight, Pinkie, Rarity, Sunset, and Cheerilee holding a clipboard. Middle row: the Crusaders. Back row: a few other students. Pinkie offers a squeaky, encouraging smile and raises an arm whose fist is covered by a “#1” foam-finger hand; from here, cut to Applejack waiting in the wings. She tucks both hands in at her shoulders and flaps her arms like wings, adding a better-than-average clucking sound, and ends with a  grin and double thumbs-up. Her confidence restored, Fluttershy turns to face the audience and speaks up loud and clear.)

Fluttershy: I’m Fluttershy, trying out for Coal Miner Number Two. Down here, we mine for coal.

(Cut to Cheerilee on the end of this; she smiles and jots a quick note. From here, dissolve to the Rainbooms at the gym door as they disperse to head for their next classes in a spurt of chatter, leaving Applejack and Fluttershy alone. Pinkie has disposed of the foam hand.)

Applejack: (chuckling) Chicken trick worked, huh?

Fluttershy: Actually, I pictured everyone in the audience as you, Applejack.

(A wavering dissolve shifts the view to just behind her during the audition, and a short pan and tilt down brings her mental picture into full view. No fewer than seven copies of Applejack have taken the place of Cheerilee and the rest of the spectators.)

Applejacks: We believe in you, Fluttershy!

(Another such dissolve frames the genuine article.)

Applejack: (chuckling, patting Fluttershy’s shoulder) Aww…well, I’m glad you were able to imagine it in one way or the other— (uneasily, scratching back of neck) —’cause my backup plan wasn’t so hot.

(Here comes Macintosh, racing to stay ahead of a flock of highly agitated, extremely vocal chickens.)

Applejack: (clearing throat, smiling as one flaps past) Speakin’ of which, I should probably get them back to the farm.

(The irritated look from her brother, combined with the clucking poultry parked atop his head, suggests that “definitely” would have been a better word choice. The fact that it chooses to lay an egg in the shaggy orange hair does little to improve his mood. Snap to black.)

“Choose Rainbow Dash” ending

(Snap to a long overhead shot of the Canterlot High soccer field, where a daytime game is about to begin, and zoom in slowly on the announcer’s booth at one end of the bleachers. Two figures can be seen within, partly obscured by the projecting roof, and an extreme close-up of its desk picks them out as Fluttershy and Rainbow. The former is seated and looking very uncomfortable as the latter adjusts a microphone for her, and no longer carries her script. Zoom out to frame them fully on the start of the next line. Seen from the waist up, Rainbow has traded her usual outfit for two-tone dark blue shorts and a white jersey with yellow sleeves and blue shoulder trim; her red/yellow/blue wristbands are still in place, and she does not wear her pendant.)

Rainbow: You just need a little practice speaking in front of a crowd. Ready?

Fluttershy: (shaking head) Mmm-mmm.

(She whimpers in purest fear, covering her mouth and shrinking down in the chair.)

Rainbow: (patting her head) You’ll thank me later. Game on!

(Out she goes in a multicolored blur, even without her pendant’s speed boost. The reluctant announcer sits up, taps the microphone to make sure it is working, and gets a shrill feedback whine that very nearly makes her bolt for the exit. Down on the field, a whistle blast from the referee is Rainbow’s cue to juggle the ball from one knee to the other and then start dribbling it down the field. Her footwear consists of blue cleats and knee-length socks. As cheers and shouts of encouragement drift in from the sidelines, she grins and flips a thumbs-up toward the booth. Fluttershy’s voice is heard through a set of pole-mounted loudspeakers.)

Voice of Fluttershy: There goes, um…number twenty-two with the…score time. She’s…

Spectators: Huh? (The opposing goalie—from Crystal Prep Academy—is just as bewildered.)

Voice of Fluttershy: …running, um…oh, help me, somebody.

(The confusion does not, however, prevent the Shadowbolt from slapping away a shot on goal. Cut to Fluttershy.)

Fluttershy: (slightly more animated) The…ball goes up, and…boom goes a header ball… (suddenly flustered again) …head ball…um, oh, no, uh… (She whimpers a bit and cowers away from the mic.)

Rainbow: (from field) Lose yourself in the game! (Cut to just behind Fluttershy, facing her.) Come on, Fluttershy!

(The unlikely commentator gathers her nerve, blows out a breath, and sits up tall at her post.)

Fluttershy: (quick and clipped, but with growing enthusiasm) Number twenty-two is pushing to the…limit. The ball, it’s tucked away by number thirty-four, who passes back to Dash. She holds it, makes her move, she’s coming, here’s the crowd, she’s wide open… (Sound of a kick.) …I don’t believe it!

(The preceding is accompanied by a series of quick cuts that frame Fluttershy from various angles and distances, including extreme close-ups of her boggling eyes and rapidly moving lips. After she finishes, cut to an extreme close-up of her confidently smiling face.)

Fluttershy: (normal cadence) Down here, we mine for…

(Zoom out; she stands on the stage in the school gym and spreads her arms wide, a copy of the script in one hand.)

Fluttershy: …COOOOAAAAL!!

(This last word is delivered in much the same exuberant fashion used by commentators to announce the scoring of a goal in professional soccer matches throughout Latin America. Cut to the rows of chairs set up before the stage; all her friends except Rainbow are sitting close to cheer and applaud, DJ P0N-3 offers a wordless thumbs-up, and Cheerilee beams and writes on her clipboard. The blue teen turns out to be lounging in the back row, back in her civvies and pendant and with her feet resting on the back of the next chair up.)

Rainbow: (smugly, crossing arms behind head) And the crowd goes wild.

(“Iris out” to black, centered on her face.)

“Choose DJ P0N-3” ending

(Snap to the same close-up of Applejack and Rainbow and zoom in quickly between them to a close-up of DJ P0N-3, lost in her own groove with headphones socked over ears. The camera then returns to the aspiring thespian and zooms in slowly as a smile of ecstatic comprehension steals across her face.)

(Dissolve to an overhead shot of the gym—lights dimmed, stage empty, a few onlookers in the floor seats. Among them are Applejack, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity, and the Crusaders, with Cheerilee alone in the front row. She takes a few notes on her clipboard in close-up, only to have both it and her pencil nearly shaken out of her hands by a sudden booming synthesizer chord. As it slowly fades away, the scratching of a record can be faintly heard amid thumps of percussion and a fog machine kicks into gear to blanket the stage. The jarring soundscape startles Applejack and Rainbow upright; cut to DJ P0N-3 at her decks, adjusting a control to get the effect down just so.)

(The chords and drums cohere into a pounding beat that rumbles through the gym as multicolored lasers and spotlights rove over the rapidly thickening fog. All three Crusaders’ mouths slowly fall open in utter disbelief, Scootaloo forgetting to chew the popcorn in hers or eat any more from the bag she holds. As DJ P0N-3 keeps working it, a glitchy, low-resolution image of Fluttershy advances to the front of the stage. The actual teen is standing next to the turntablist, in the path of a set of strobing lasers that are generating the projection, and she gives a thumbs-up, no longer carrying her script. Onstage, the music and light show subside and normal illumination returns to the gym to leave Fluttershy’s image standing in the fog bank.)

Image of Fluttershy: (softly, slightly distorted) Down here, we mine for coal.

(Now every spectator’s jaw hangs slack for a long, silent moment before nearly all of them shoot to their feet, clapping and cheering like mad. Applejack, Rainbow, and Rarity keep their seats, the first two with their minds blown as the third breaks into a smile.)

Rarity: Wow. She really knows how to make an entrance.

(There follows a double “iris out” to black, with each aperture centered on one gobsmacked girl’s face. A pause, just long enough for them to trade a sidewise glance as if to say, “Fluttershy did that?!?”, and the blackout is complete.)

“Text Support”                                                                                                             (CYOE)

Written by Jim Martin; story editing by Nick Confalone

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the front lawn of Canterlot High as the bell rings. It is daytime, and a quick zoom in on the clock atop the library’s domed roof puts the time at 3:00—the end of the school day. Cut to the Rainbooms going their separate ways in a hallway, then to just outside the front doors as Pinkie throws them open.)

Pinkie: How cool is chemistry class?

(She bounds down to Twilight, Fluttershy, Rarity, and Sunset at the bottom of the steps.)

Pinkie: I can’t believe I got to come up with my very own chemical formula. (pulling two green-iced cupcakes from her hair) Jalapeño supernova cupcake frosting!

(As she takes a lick from one, Twilight’s cell phone beeps and vibrates to indicate an incoming text message. She glances at the screen with visible puzzlement as Sunset offers Pinkie a humoring smile.)

Sunset: That wasn’t the assignment. (Pinkie has now eaten the one she licked.)

Pinkie: Aw, you sound just like my lab partners. (waving, addressing herself o.s.) COULDN’T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOU GUYS!

(Pan quickly to “you guys”—Snips and Snails, staggering dazedly across the lawn. Both are liberally besmirched with the same green icing, and Snips is wearing a pair of safety goggles. They stop for a moment to gawk at her, ignoring the incredulous stares coming at them from all directions, and then resume their shamble off to who knows where.)

Twilight: I just got the weirdest text from Timber Spruce.

(Fluttershy, Rarity, and Sunset cluster in for a look; close-up of the phone. The display is headed by an icon of the green-haired teen’s face, below which the following string of graphics can be seen.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) Pirate, plane, alligator, thumbs-up, waterfall, golf club, ice cream sundae.

(Cut to her and the other two spectators on the end of this, then to Twilight.)

Twilight: What does it mean? Is it an inside joke? (adjusting glasses) A hieroglyphic reference? A secret code?

(She groans out her frustration while clapping both hands to her temples, phone and all.)

Twilight: My brain feels weird! I’m not used to not knowing things!

Rarity: Hmm. Sounds like you could use a translator.

Fluttershy: I could help.

Sunset: (touching Fluttershy’s shoulder) Leave this one to me.

Twilight: Who can get me out of this text-astrophe?

(Prompts for her three helpful friends appear around her, accompanied by the ten-second timer, and the purple eyes shift between them and her phone. The timer fades away at zero.)

“Choose Fluttershy” ending

(Snap to Twilight and Fluttershy walking through a patch of woods behind the school; small critters hurry back and forth across ground and air.)

Twilight: So what are you thinking, Fluttershy?

Fluttershy: I’d start with… (A bird flits down to perch on her finger.) …a bird.

Twilight: Sounds good! (It flies away; Fluttershy sits on a log.)

Fluttershy: (rapid fire) Then iguana, guinea pig, regular pig, frog, baby chick in the egg, baby chick out of the egg, all three “see no evil” monkeys, cat, cat, cat, cat, all the cats, and, um…

(During this bit of very strange dictation, the camera cuts back and forth between her and Twilight, who is having a great deal of trouble keeping up with the lot and/or making head or tail of it. Fluttershy has barely petered out when a squirrel hops up next to her and offers a chittered suggestion.)

Fluttershy: …finish it with a squirrel on his hind legs.

Twilight: Sounds good! (tapping screen) Sent. That was perfect! (She sits next to Fluttershy.) So what did we just send?

Fluttershy: A bunch of cute animal emojis!

(Most of the air goes out of Twilight at this pronouncement and the soft giggle that follows it, to be replaced by supremely annoyed frustration.)

Twilight: But what does it meeeean?!?

(The spooked little rodent jumps into Fluttershy’s lap just before the phone sounds off. Both girls run a quizzical eye over the screen and smile at what they see, Twilight gasping and the squirrel jumping down to run off.)

Twilight: He says yes to the zoo! (confused) The zoo? (Pause; it sinks in.) Ohhhhh! The zoo! (hugging Fluttershy) Thank you, Fluttershy!

Fluttershy: No matter what the problem is, adorable animals are always the answer.

(Fade to black.)

“Choose Rarity” ending

(Snap to Rarity pacing along the sidewalk that leads away from the school’s front doors; Twilight falls in behind her.)

Rarity: As you are no doubt keenly aware, I am fluent in all the latest text-slang phone lingo. (Stop; giggle and hold a palm out to Twilight.) If I may?

(The bookworm surrenders her phone with a slightly shaky grin, and the white thumbs dance across the keys.)

Twilight: (peeking over Rarity’s shoulder) Oh! So you’re just gonna—

Rarity: (waving her back) No, no, darling.

(This time, Twilight keeps her distance until the response is completed and transmitted and the phone is passed back to her. Rarity goes serenely on her way.)

Twilight: Thank you so much. (Confusion sets in when she glances at the screen.) But what’d I just say? (A new text comes in; she smiles.) Oh! He replied!

(She hurries to catch up to her text-savvy friend, who stops near the base of the former Wondercolt statue, and faces the screen to her.)

Rarity: (smiling, taking it) Robot, shooting star, trophy? (laughing) Oh, he’s a witty one. (She starts on a response.)

Twilight: He won a space robot contest!

(This earns her a funny look and eye roll from Rarity, who lets her thumbs continue to do the walking.)

Rarity: (to herself) Fancy dress, anvil, high five, napkin.

Twilight: Anvil? I don’t know if— (A finger over the lips silences her.)

Rarity: Shh! Darling, darling…

(Incoming; she checks the screen, then bursts into a peal of laughter.)

Rarity: Do you like ice cream?

Twilight: Who doesn’t like ice cream?

Rarity: (with growing glee) Check mark, check mark, couple holding hands, sunshine, three balloons, spoon! (Giggle.)

Twilight: (adjusting glasses) I’m sorry, but what just happened?

(As Rarity speaks, a text-message balloon appears next to her and the mentioned icons pop into view within it.)

Rarity: Oh, well, I started by sending a dragon because you’re powerful, ice cube and snail because you’re cool but take it slow, and then pyramid, well, for obvious reasons.

(Cut to a thoroughly lost Twilight on the end of this, then to both girls; the balloon is now gone.)

Rarity: (giving phone back) And he was way into it, so in this last one, I was just… (A new balloon appears overhead and fills with her final sequence of items.) …double-checking. You and Timber Spruce have a date on Sunday, at three o’clock, to have ice cream!

Twilight: (typing; a new balloon appears) Thumbs-up, smiley face!

(The last of which is represented by a picture of her own happy mug.)

Rarity: You’re welcome.

(Fade to black.)

“Choose Sunset Shimmer” ending

(Snap to a long shot of Sugarcube Corner, seen from across the street, and zoom in slowly. On the start of the next line, cut to Twilight and Sunset sitting on a couch inside and zoom in. The former unicorn drinks from a mug of tea, while the former Shadowbolt has her phone in hand.)

Twilight: Timber Spruce wants to dress up like pirates and fly through waterfalls with an alligator while we eat ice cream with golf clubs for spoons?! That’s crazy! Golf clubs would make terrible spoons!

Sunset: (smirking) Have you thought about maybe asking him what he means?

Twilight: Ooh, great idea! (Sunset sets her mug aside.) How would I ask that in emojis?

(Conveying her frustration with a soft groan and eye roll, Sunset commanders the phone and taps the green “call” icon on its screen. A photo of Timber is displayed above it, features contorted in mild disbelief. The sound of ringing comes through on the line.)

Twilight: Calling?! No calling! Who talks on the phone?

(Said phone is held out of reach in one yellow-orange hand while the other pushes Twilight back so she cannot grab it away.)

Twilight: (straining) Sunset, whaaaat—

(As soon as the call is picked up, she freezes. A garbled voice is head on the other end between Sunset’s words.)

Sunset: Hey, Timber Spruce? (She gets the phone up to an ear; Twilight crumples to the couch, hands over mouth.) Sunset Shimmer here…mmm…mmm-hmm…That text you sent Twilight Sparkle. (Who is now fumbling with a lock of hair.) Mmm-hmm. (Big smile.) Ohhh! (Laugh.) That’s what you meant!…That’s what Twilight thought, but we weren’t sure. Thanks!

(Ending the call, she glances toward the other end of the couch only to find Twilight staring popeyed, her jaw almost ready to scrape the floor.)

Twilight: (weakly) You just…boy-talked…mouth words…phone!

Sunset: He’s wondering if you’re free to play pirate alligator mini-golf this weekend. (Twilight instantly recovers.)

Twilight: (laughing) Oh, duh, of course. How do I say yes?

(Blue-green eyes roll at the bespectacled genius’s obtuseness, and the phone is held out to her with the “call” icon primed and ready.)

Twilight: (smiling, taking it) Ohh!

(She puts it to her ear with a faint laugh and slaps on a lip-nibbling grin as the garbled voice speaks up again from the other end.)

Twilight: Yes!

(Fade to black.)

“Stressed in Show”                                                                                                       (CYOE)

Written by Kelly D’Angelo; story editing by Nick Confalone

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a close-up of a worried Rarity.)

Rarity: (Southern drawl) Mother, I fear I do not share your dreams of coal.

(Cut to just behind her on the second half of this line. She is on the stage of the Canterlot High gym, and Sunset sits in the floor seats with a bag of popcorn in easy reach. The mention of coal, and the script on which Sunset is taking notes, indicate that this is a rehearsal for the school play Dazzled as mentioned in “Fluttershy’s Butterflies.” Rarity has evidently landed the role of aspiring dancer Selfie Soot, while Sunset is serving as director. A longer shot of the area puts Twilight, Fluttershy, and Rainbow onstage as well; they each have a script in hand, while Rarity does not. Zoom in slowly.)

Rarity: Instead, my heartbeat calls for me to dance!

(She holds her last pose for through a long silence, then clears her throat.)

Rarity: (faster) Heartbeat calls for me to dance. (Still nothing; she turns her head to face Twilight.) To dance!

(Zoom in quickly on the bespectacled girl during this last; she starts in surprise, having let her mind wander.)

Twilight: Oh! Sorry, uh… (reading) “But, Selfie Soot, my sweet summer child! Without your help, I’ll never mine the mine in time.” (getting worked up, crumpling script) Or run lines with Flash Sentry in time, or help Applejack build the stage in time— (Cut to a worried Sunset; she continues o.s.) —or practice my monologue in time— (Stand up and set the script aside; back to her.) —or find time for time in time!

(Fluttershy and Rainbow can only stare popeyed as she spirals down into a hyperventilation fit.)

Rainbow: (leafing through script) Uh, am I missing a page? (Sunset crosses to Twilight.)

Sunset: (touching her shoulder) Um, when was the last time you took a break from the play?

Twilight: (frantically) Take a break! Break a leg! Break a take?

Rainbow: (whispering, to Fluttershy) I think she’s broken.

(This earns her the mother of all dirty looks from the director.)

Sunset: (gently, touching Twilight’s shoulder again) Breathe, Twilight. You just need something to take your mind off the play a little while. (The other three gather in.) We’re here for you. Right, everyone?

Rainbow: Of course!

Fluttershy: Let one of us help you take your mind off it. (Pinkie shoves her head out through the curtains.)

Pinkie: You bet!

(A ten-second timer and prompts for these three appear around Twilight’s head, her eyes moving from one to another. The timer fades away at zero, and the view snaps to black around the prompts.)

“Choose Fluttershy” ending

(Snap to a stretch of clear blue daytime sky. A bird sings and wings its way across as the camera tilts down past the treetops to stop on Twilight and Fluttershy; the former, blindfolded, is being guided along a path by the latter’s hands on her shoulders. Both have left their scripts behind and are framed from the knees up. They stop after a few steps, Fluttershy reaching up to undo the knot in the cloth band. Snap to black, which clears to give Twilight’s perspective—the blindfold being removed—of a sunlit clearing. Zoom in slowly as ground-based and airborne animals frolic through the space.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Ta-da! Just what you needed— (Back to them; Twilight has her glasses on again.) —an escape to nature.

(She starts ahead, but a squelch from ground level brings her up short as Twilight smiles eagerly ahead at the pastoral tranquility. A cut to the grass frames Fluttershy’s feet, clad in butterfly-decorated white galoshes that are freshly daubed with the mud she has just stepped in.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Oh, dear.

(Longer shot of both; her rabbit Angel is by her feet, and Twilight wears purple galoshes with pink stars.)

Fluttershy: I got mud on my boots. (Zoom in quickly on Twilight, whose nerves suddenly fray.)

Twilight: Boots?! That reminds me— (starting to run off) —I need to help Rarity design Selfie Soot’s magic boots for the play! (Fluttershy stops her.)

Fluttershy: Oh, no, no, no. (gently pushing her down to sit on a log) Don’t think about that. Think about…this! (She scoops up Angel and whispers to him.) Be as cute as you can possibly be.

(The white fuzzball nods and squeaks his acknowledgment, and when Fluttershy lowers him to Twilight’s eye level, he lets his own peepers go big and round and shiny.)

Twilight: (taking/cuddling him) Aww, he’s adorable!

Fluttershy: It’s why I love nature so much more than big cities.

(The peaceful mood goes bye-bye just as abruptly as before, Twilight shooting to her feet and tossing Angel away.)

Twilight: Shiny City! Applejack is building the city sets while we’re out here lost in the woods!

(A panicked squeak from the yellow girl is followed by one hand wrapping around her pendant.)

Fluttershy: Animals, unite!

(From behind her comes a miniature thundering herd of them—squirrels, raccoons, skunks, birds, and one bear of considerable size.)

Fluttershy: (whispering, to them) Dazzle her with your tranquility.

Twilight: (backing up toward a tree) Dazzled is the name of the play!

(The winged wonders perched on the lowest branch chip in with a bit of song right about now, and the squirrels at a higher level sling a crown of flowers and leaves over the side that lands neatly on Twilight’s head. She smiles at the offering, and a woodpecker flits in to hammer its beak up and down her back, producing a sigh of total relief—a spot of tension being loosened.)

Twilight: Oh, yeah. This…this is nice. (Laugh; crumple slowly toward the ground as it lays off.) So relaxing…so calm…so…

(She winds up sitting on the grass, propped up against the bear, and begins snoring quietly as she drifts off to sleep.)

Fluttershy: (to animals) Shhh. Let her take a little nap, everyone. All we need now is some volunteers to keep her warm. (Cut to two skunks; she continues o.s.) Spunky and Plunky, are you up to the task?

(They nod and chitter assent, one adding a thumbs-up for good measure, and scamper across to nestle into Twilight’s lap. She cuddles one black/white-striped tail to her cheek like a pillow, and the view “irises out” to black, centered on her totally contented face.)

“Choose Pinkie Pie” ending

(Snap to Twilight walking down a hallway, books in arms and a great deal on her mind. She is brought up short by Pinkie popping up in her face at point-blank range; on the next line, the frizzy-haired nut faces her down from a quick string of highly implausible angles.)

Pinkie: Ooh! I know what we could do to get your mind off the play. We could ask Rarity for a makeover! Oh! Or ask Bulk Biceps for a massage. He gives such good massages. Or…we could ask Applejack to whip you up an apple face mask. Ah, there are so many options! (worried; close-up) Maybe too many options. (stretching cheeks downward) It’s kinda stressful just thinking about it! Right?

(She discovers that Twilight has cleared out of the joint.)

Pinkie: (looking around) Huh? Where’d you go?

(Dissolve to Twilight sitting at a table in the cafeteria, a loaded tray set before her. She lifts her cup to take a drink, but Pinkie’s sudden jack-in-the-box impersonation at the table’s edge rattles her badly enough to splash herself in the face.)

Pinkie: Twilight! (wiping her clean with a napkin) There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. (pulling out a rolled sheet) Take a look at this!

(The document is swiftly unfurled down the length of the table, revealing line on line of writing. Cut to Twilight, who gapes at the extent of it.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) I made an anti-stress list. (She leans into view.) You love lists, don’t you? Well, to start, this is a list of lists we could make. (Close-up; she hefts one end.) We could make lists about color, lists about numbers, lists about buckets, lists—

(Words fail her when she glances off in Twilight’s direction.)

Pinkie: Twilight? (Glance around; find her gone again.) Twilight!

(Cut to a closed classroom door, which opens in time with the ringing of the school bell so Twilight can peek warily out. After looking both ways, she sighs with relief and emerges fully, shutting the door and tiptoeing along the hallway. A few stealthy yards bring her to her locker with no sign of her overly energetic friend.)

Twilight: Phew! (The door flies open and Pinkie shoves her head out.)

Pinkie: Twilight!

(Who stumbles back with a yell of terror, her books flying every which way.)

Pinkie: (stepping calmly out, closing/leaning against locker) I had a feeling you’d be here.

Twilight: Pinkie, listen. I really appreciate what you’re trying to do and everything, but it’s too much! All day, all I’ve been able to think about is “Where’s Pinkie Pie? Where’s Pinkie Pie?” I haven’t had one moment to…

(She cuts herself off, eyes flicking toward Pinkie as her whole face slackens with confusion, and pivots to her friend with a dawning realization.)

Twilight: …think about the play! (She sighs, relieved.)

Pinkie: YOU’RE WELCOME!!

(Delivered with enough force and volume to throw a fresh scare into the brainiac and very nearly blow her ponytail clear off her head. Snap to black.)

“Choose Rainbow Dash” ending

(Snap to Twilight wearing the sweatshirt, sweat pants, sneakers, and hair bun she used while coaching her friends to pass their exams in “The Finals Countdown.” She is flagging badly in a run across the school soccer field as Rainbow zips up next to her in a burst of magic speed.)

Rainbow: Come on, Twilight! Only ten laps to go! (She blasts ahead…)

Twilight: I’m fasting as lap as I can! (…and catches up from behind…)

Rainbow: A great practice always clears my head. (…and does another lap in no time flat.) I promise, you’ll feel great in no time. (over her shoulder) Right, guys?

(Pan quickly back to Sunset and Spike, the former in workout gear similar to Twilight’s; both are heaving for breath.)

Sunset: We’ll catch up!

(Spike flops onto the grass. Rainbow’s contrail blazes across the screen; behind it, wipe to an empty patch of grass. Her magic allows her to lunge into view almost too fast to follow and hit an incoming shuttlecock with a badminton racquet, then another, then leap up to smash the projectile over the net. On the other side of the court, Twilight can do no more than yelp fearfully and raise one leg, both arms, and her own racquet to shield herself from the hail of shuttlecocks. She grins weakly when one of them bounces off the strings by pure happenstance.)

(Cut to the two in the gym. Twilight is dribbling a basketball, only to have Rainbow rocket past and steal it for a slam dunk and dangle from the rim. Outside again; in close-up; the speedster stands behind a board laid across two concrete blocks.)

Rainbow: (karate-chopping it in two) Hai-yah!

(Pan to Twilight at a board of her own and looking very uncomfortable at the prospect of having to follow suit. The hand comes up and the edge slams into the wood—but the only damage done is a red, throbbing patch on the violet palm that sets her to whimpering in pain. Cut to the two girls jogging side by side around the soccer field; Twilight pulls ahead this time, then leaps nimbly up to return a volley when the scene shifts to the badminton court. Rainbow swings for it only to hit a whole lot of nothing, the resultant look of confusion shifting into a satisfied smile. The gym: Rainbow dribbles a bit during a new game of one-on-one, keeping Twilight at bay until the egghead steals the ball and puts it up for two points. Outside: she faces the board again.)

Twilight: (chopping it successfully in two) Hai-yah!

(Fade to white, then snap to the bleachers set up alongside the soccer field. She runs into view and up them, several steps ahead of Rainbow, and dances triumphantly in place with arms raised once she reaches the top.)

Twilight: Woo-hoo! (Rainbow stops just short of her.)

Rainbow: Hah. Look at that! You beat me—and I only sorta let you win!

Twilight: I feel completely de-stressed—and we managed to give Spike some exercise.

(Cut to just behind her head, looking down toward the field. Sunset and Spike lie sprawled out on their faces in the grass, both utterly winded and collapsed.)

Twilight: (laughing) And I guess Sunset too.

(One yellow-orange hand flips her a labored thumbs-up as she and Rainbow share a laugh. “Iris out” to black, centered on the digit.)

Rainbow: (while still in view) Wow.

“Driving Miss Shimmer”                                                                                              (CYOE)

Written by Kate Leth; story editing by Nick Confalone

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a Canterlot High hallway. Zoom in slowly on Sunset, who glumly regards a sheet of paper in her hands amid concerned looks from Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity.)

Fluttershy: What do you mean, you failed?

(Sunset hands the page over; the car outline at the top, and the large red X in a circle, mark it as a driver education test that has not gone at all well. She slumps against the nearest row of lockers and slides to the floor with a weary sigh and groan.)

Sunset: Mr. Cranky Doodle said I didn’t have enough experience to pass the driving test. I have a re-test on Monday, but…it’s my last chance and…he wants me to practice with someone more experienced.

Rarity: Oh, pfft! Darling, is that all? I can take you anytime you like.

Applejack: Don’t fret your fritters. I can borrow Granny’s truck.

Fluttershy: We could use my car.

Sunset: (slowly, smiling) Well, I guess I’ll go with…

(Prompts for the three appear around her, and she shifts her glance among them. The ten-second timer materializes as well, then fades away once it reaches zero.)

“Choose Applejack” ending

(Snap to Applejack and Sunset standing within the barn at Sweet Apple Acres and zoom in slowly. Behind them is a very large object covered by a tarp.)

Sunset: Thanks for helping me out, Applejack.

Applejack: Think nothin’ of it. (patting it) I’ve been lookin’ for a reason to take a spin in the old jalopy. (An irate Granny leans into view, surprising them both.)

Granny: Who are you callin’ a jalopy?

(Both old green hands seize fistfuls of cloth and pull, releasing thick clouds of dust that send Sunset into a coughing spasm as they disperse.)

Granny: See? Like she’s fresh off the lot.

(Standing between the three is a pickup truck whose condition suggests that the lot would have to be a junkyard in order to make her claim valid. Mud or rust on the fenders and wheel wells; a sizable dent in the driver’s-side door; the sides of the cargo bed built up with planks.)

Applejack: (hugging it) Whoo! I can’t believe she’s still in such good condition.

Sunset: Uh, she’s something, all right.

Granny: (patting hood) You girls ready for the ride of your lives?

(Close-up of them, seen through the windshield. All are in the front seat, with Sunset at the wheel and Applejack wedged in between her and Granny. The sound of the engine indicates that it has had as rough a life as the bodywork, and the truck starts to lurch forward on Granny’s next line. All three have their seat belts on.)

Granny: Now the first thing you ought to know is—

(A pop, a hiss of air, and a noticeable sinking bring the trip to an abrupt halt. Cut to the culprit—the left front tire, freshly punctured by a nail—and then to the three standing around it. Blue daytime sky is visible above them, as they have just barely cleared the barn doors.)

Granny: —be prepared!

Sunset: To fail?

(She follows the family matriarch over to the rear end and watches her lower the tailgate and root around a bit.)

Granny: For anything!

(A wrench is produced and handed over to the driving novice; in short order, Applejack is gripping the front bumper and using her magic strength to tip the truck up.)

Applejack: All right, Sunset. Use that wrench to loosen the bolts— (Sunset does so.) —and we’ll get this tire replaced in two shakes of an apple tree.

Sunset: (chuckling) And what if I don’t have you and Granny Smith around? (Applejack sets the truck down and smiles knowingly.)

Applejack: Well…

(Cut to a close-up of the flat tire and dissolve to one in the same position on a different car. The partially visible sticker on the door—a steering wheel topped by a mortarboard cap and sitting on a road—points to it as a Canterlot High driver education vehicle.)

Cranky: (from o.s.) Oh, this is unfortunate.

(Longer shot: he and Sunset stand facing it in the school parking lot. A similarly decorated placard has been mounted on the roof, and a couple of orange cones are set out as obstacles. Cranky is holding a clipboard.)

Cranky: Of course, I know how to change a tire— (walking to car) —but, uh, I wouldn’t want you waiting around. (Close-up; he stops by the tire.) So I guess, uh…you fail? Is that fair? (Back to a disbelieving Sunset; he continues o.s.) Hm?

Sunset: (smiling hastily) Not to worry! (moving off) I know exactly what we need.

Cranky: (puzzled) You do?

(Not wasting any time, the teen opens the rear door and pulls out an automobile jack painted green, with a small red apple decorating the base.)

Sunset: An Apple jack.

(Now at a total loss for words, Cranky shrugs and applies a rubber stamp to the test paper on his clipboard, marking it with a green thumbs-up in a circle. Sunset laughs at her own resourcefulness and unexpected triumph before the view “irises out” to black, centered on her face.)

“Choose Fluttershy” ending

(Snap to a tilt down to ground level at an intersection in Canterlot city proper. It is daytime, and a pink compact car with a pale green roof and flower stickers is parked at one curb. Fluttershy stands near it holding a cat, and waves to Sunset as the latter crosses to her on foot.)

Fluttershy: Sunset! Over here! (Close-up of them.)

Sunset: Sweet ride, Fluttershy!

Fluttershy: (to cat) In you go, Miss Kitty.

(She gets a meow in response while putting it in through the open passenger-side window. Cut to the driver’s seat as Sunset climbs in, shuts the door, and fastens her seat belt.)

Sunset: (eagerly) All right! I’m ready to clock some miles on this bad boy! Let’s do this!

Fluttershy: (from o.s.)                It’s the driving safety rhyme.

(The driver-to-be throws a baffled glance in her direction.)

                                                    Start your trip with seat belt time.

(Cut to frame both; Fluttershy, belted into the passenger seat, mimes the actions she names.)

                                                    Nine and three is where you’ll be.

                                                    Adjust your mirror to see things clearer.

(Extreme close-up of Sunset’s irritated eyes reflected in the rear-view mirror; she continues o.s.)

                                                    Check your little engine light

                                                    To make sure that the trip’s all right.

(Cut to Fluttershy.)

                                                    The coolest drivers will admire—

Sunset: (fed up) All right!

Fluttershy: (losing steam)          —properly inflated tires.

Sunset: (eagerly) So, what are we learning first? Turns? Switching lanes? Parking?

Fluttershy: Oh! Funny you should ask. I actually have a rhyme for that too.

(Cut to Sunset on the end of this, a fresh wave of frustration pulling the corners of her mouth down. She caps it off by slamming her face onto the wheel to sound a prolonged blast from the horn. Dissolve to the Canterlot High parking lot; she is at the wheel of the test car, while he rides shotgun. Zoom in slowly, then cut to them inside on the start of the next line, he with his clipboard in hand.)

Cranky: Now, Sunset, I know all this safety business might seem boring to you. (Pause.) And it is. But it’s also— (Groan.) —important. Tell me, what do you do even before you start the car?

Sunset: (gleefully) Turn up the radi— (instantly deflating) —oh, not that.

(Cut to the teacher’s disapproving expression and raised eyebrow on the end of this line, then back to her as she gets her nerves back under control and puts fingers to wheel with a smile.)

Sunset: (cockily)                         It’s the driving safety rhyme.

(fastening seat belt)                     Start your trip with seat belt time.

                                                    Nine and three is where you’ll be.

(Close-up of one hand tweaking the rear-view mirror; she continues o.s.)

                                                    Adjust your mirror to see things clearer.

Cranky: Very nice!

                            If your drivin’s as good as your rhymin’s,

                            I’m sure you’ll do just fine…ins.

(Both again.)

Sunset:                I had some help from the best.

                            Now it’s time to pass this test.

Cranky: (sourly, sputtering a bit) Just start the car.

(Sunset smiles from ear to ear as the view “irises out” to black, centered on her face.)

“Choose Rarity” ending

(Snap to Sunset standing at the same Canterlot intersection that began the “Choose Fluttershy” ending and zoom in on her as cars roll by. She flicks her eyes to one side, then the other, and pulls out her cell phone. Before she can do much more than glance impatiently at the screen, a stretch limousine pulls up and stops at the curb to block her partly from view.)

Sunset: Huh?

(One tinted passenger window rolls smoothly down to give a clear view of Rarity inside, her eyes shielded by cat’s-eye sunglasses until she removes them.)

Rarity: Isn’t it fabulous! I rented it for the day. (leaning out; Sunset has pocketed her phone) If you’re going to study driving, you must do it in style. (In again.) I call it “Stretch Chic.”

(The door swings open toward a properly confounded Sunset, who shrugs and climbs in. As soon as it clunks shut, the luxury conveyance pulls away into traffic; cut to the well-appointed interior and the two girls. A notepad rests by Sunset.)

Rarity: Now, just a few things that you absolutely must know.

(Close-up of Sunset on the end of this, fishing out a pencil and taking up the pad, then pan to her tutor.)

Rarity: (snapping fingers) Always have both sparkling and still water. You never know which one your passengers will prefer. (Cut to Sunset, taking notes but becoming increasingly puzzled; she continues o.s.) Never play the music too loud or too soft. It has to be just enough that their heads bob, but not so much that they cover their ears. And finally— (Both girls again.) —always have your lights on the ready in case of an impromptu party breaking out. (Laugh.)

Sunset: Your headlights?

(Rarity responds by folding down a section of the seats’ rear cushions and pressing a button on the control panel thus exposed. A peppy electronic dance tune instantly starts up, and miniature spotlights in varied colors begin to sweep through the cabin. She grooves blissfully where she sits, but the display does little to raise Sunset’s spirits.)

Sunset: Rarity, I’m not going to prom, I’m just trying to pass my driving test.

(It takes a few more beats for these words to sink into Rarity’s brain and bring her to a stop.)

Rarity: Darling, can’t we do both?

(Cut to a close-up of the elderly male chauffeur, belted into the front passenger seat and not looking too happy at having to give up his usual post, and pan to a very nervous Sunset at the wheel. The limo is moving very slowly, and Sunset makes several abrupt adjustments and reverses direction during the following.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) Just a little bit—oh! No, an inch to the left. Now—ooh, careful! Uh, the shoulder! Watch the shoulder!

(A final screech of tires brings her to a stop. Cut to just behind her and the chauffeur, framing a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror. The partition between the driver and passenger compartments is down, and the top of Rarity’s head is just visible behind it. Sunset swivels her head to shoot an irked glance back this way; zoom out to show the purple-haired girl lying face down on a padded bench so a white-uniformed masseuse can work on her muscles. Rarity’s comments were intended to direct the massage rather than the limo.)

Rarity: (very relaxed) Ooh, driving can be stressful, darling.

(Cut to the Canterlot High parking lot. Sunset is driving the test car that appeared in the other endings, with Cranky in the passenger seat; she comes to a stop near two cones placed slightly over one car length apart. Zoom in slowly.)

Cranky: Not bad, Sunset.

(Close-up inside; he checks his clipboard and fails to notice her easing the car back and forth.)

Cranky: You completed the left turn, the right turn, the U-turn, and the K-turn. But now comes the part where everyone fails—parallel parking. Don’t expect to— (The car stops.)

Sunset: (brightly) Done!

(Zoom out quickly. She has put it neatly between two other vehicles at the edge of the lot without dislodging any cones or even brushing a bumper.)

Cranky: Where on Earth did you learn to do that?

Sunset: (stretching arms against wheel) Mmm—I just had to stretch my talents.

Cranky: I don’t get it. (Pause) Eh.

(Her stint in the driver’s seat of the limo is now explained—a bit of heavy-duty practice in this particular skill. As in the “Choose Applejack” ending, he stamps a green thumbs-up onto the paperwork as a mark of success. Her face splits into an ecstatic grin, and the screen “irises out” to black, centered on it.)

“Rarity Investigates: The Case of the Bedazzled Boot”                                            (CYOE)

Written by Julia Prescott; story editing by Nick Confalone

(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the Canterlot High gym. The camera is positioned just above the stage and aimed toward the floor seats; Sunset sits alone in the front row, taking notes on a copy of the script of Dazzled in her capacity as the school play’s director. A second copy is on the next chair over, and a cup of tea rests on the floor. Flash’s legs are visible on the stage.)

Flash: (slight Southern drawl) I tell you.

(Head-on view: a rehearsal is in progress. He stands at center stage, Twilight off to his right, and both are reading from their own copies. Snips and Snails stand at the opposite end, bored out of their minds, and a table behind Flash holds a sparkly, blue-tinted crystalline boot.)

Flash: No coal-mining daughter of ours is going to Shiny City wearing boots like those!

(On the end of this, he takes a step to the side and points emphatically at the table. The boot stands alone—no counterpart for the other foot. Sunset’s eyes pop at the anomaly.)

Sunset: Cut! (Snips and Snails snicker to themselves; she stands up.) Snips! Snails! Where’s the other boot?

Snips: Hey! Props ain’t our jobs. (Now onstage, she crosses to them without her script.)

Sunset: (poking him in the chest) Yes, it is! Your job is props. (She moves on.)

Snips: (shrugging, laughing weakly) Well, yes, but— (A venomous glare chastens him greatly.) —right.

Sunset: The play is about magic dancing boots! No one’s buying tickets to see a magic dancing boot!

(She holds up the one on the table to emphasize her last word. Rarity, backstage, looks up with a soft gasp from the rack of costumes she has been inspecting. Zoom in slowly as she steps out past the curtain.)

Rarity: Somebody’s pilfered my bedazzled boot, eh? Not good. But a new case falling right into my lap! (Giddy little giggle.) Not bad!

(She pulls a broad-brimmed gray hat seemingly from nowhere, its band marked with a blue gem and yellow feather. As she gets it settled over the elegant purple curls and runs a thumb and forefinger along the brim, the entire view shifts to black and white, the edges of the image slightly washed out as if this scene were being played back from old film stock. She crosses to Twilight, Sunset, and Flash.)

Rarity: (to Sunset) Don’t you worry your sweet red head, redhead. (Finger snap.) Speaking as the lead whose foot that boot adorns— (flicking a curl) —and the costume designer whose mind dreamt of it in the first place—let me assure you, I shall find the boot! But where to begin? (Extreme close-up.) Somebody’s got to know something.

(As she finishes, the screen dims except for a narrow band of light angling across her eyes. The ten-second timer and prompts for Applejack, Pinkie, and Trixie appear in the dimmed portions, her eyes shifting warily from one to another. At zero, the timer fades away and the view behind the prompts snaps to black.)

“Choose Applejack” ending

(Snap to a black-and-white overhead shot of Applejack and Rarity, seated and facing each other across a table under the cone of light thrown by a single overhead lamp. They are in the school’s boiler room, and Rarity has changed into a dress whose long sleeves cover the backs of her hands, along with a feather/flower-topped pillbox hat, a loose shawl, and simple dark high heels. She is not wearing her pendant. Zoom in slowly.)

Applejack: Well, last time I saw them together was, uh, when I was buildin’ the mine shaft set, over by the costume rack. (Rarity mulls this over.)

Rarity: (voice over) Detectives trust their instincts— (She wraps five fingers around the lamp’s pull cord.) —and mine were telling me to check the costume rack.

(A tug shuts off the light and blacks out the screen; from here, snap to the rack of costumes she was looking over during the rehearsal. Her hands reach through from behind and push the hanging garments aside so she and Applejack can peer intently beyond; all four eyes pop wide open after a moment.)

Applejack, Rarity: Maud?!?

(Cut to Pinkie’s impassive older sister, holding the lost boot and stroking it like a cat; unlike the rest of the scene, it retains its bluish tint. Thunder tears the air as a flash of lightning throws her features into sharp relief—special effects provided by Snips and Snails, as seen when the camera zooms out. The squat boy is working a spotlight as the skinny one shakes a piece of sheet metal.)

Rarity: (indignantly) Of all the people, Maud! Honestly! I never pegged you for a crook! Who put you up to it? What do you got against my big debut? (shaking Maud’s shoulders, increasingly worked up) Why aren’t you answering me? Why? Why? Why?

(She collapses and is caught by a rather miffed Applejack.)

Maud: Huh. (holding up boot) You might have thought this one is rose quartz, but it’s actually amethyst.

Applejack: (setting Rarity upright) Uh, nobody thought that.

Rarity: They’re just rhinestones, darling.

Maud: Made of amethyst. The world’s largest amethyst geode weighs two and a half tons.

(Close-up of Rarity on the end of this; the grayscale blue eyes widen at the mention of this weight.)

Rarity: A t-t-two-and-a-half-ton bedazzling gem?

(Blue crystals, rendered in full color, appear in the pupils of her eyes as she speaks, and the view then dissolves to her standing before this same semi-precious stone—nearly twice her height—and marveling at it. This shot, in color, picks out the shades of violet and gray in her outfit, the blue of her hat’s feather, and the purple of her shoes. She bounds over and wraps her arms around as much of the great stone as she can reach, a little runnel of drool coursing from the corner of her rapturously grinning mouth in close-up.)

Maud: (from o.s.) Are you imagining yourself hugging it?

Rarity: (mumbling) Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I am. (Zoom out; Maud does likewise on the other side.)

Maud: Me too.

(Cut to them and Applejack by the costume rack; full color has been restored here.)

Rarity: Glimmering, gleaming, glitzing geodes, all for me!

(She half-slumps on her feet with a contented sigh; here comes Sunset.)

Sunset: Oh! (She relieves Maud of the boot, not breaking stride.) Nice.

(Fade to black.)

“Choose Pinkie Pie” ending

(Accompanied by the clunk of a switch being thrown, a cone of light snaps into view to illuminate a black-and-white close-up of Pinkie, who throws up a hand to shield her eyes. Rarity paces before her with arms crossed, visible from chin to waist and now wearing a skirt suit but without her pendant. The portion of the wall visible behind them indicates the same boiler room in which Applejack was questioned.)

Rarity: (accusingly) What do you say, Miss Pie…

(She leans into the party lover’s face, giving a clear view of the hat she donned in the opening.)

Rarity: …if that’s your real name?

(She backs off, leaving Pinkie to squirm and sweat in the unforgiving glare for several seconds.)

Pinkie: I can’t take it anymore! It was me! I did it! I’m the one!

(Longer shot: Rarity stands facing her from the table’s opposite side, but sits as Pinkie breaks down sobbing.)

Rarity: Pinkie, it couldn’t have been you! (Cut to each speaker in turn; Pinkie sits up.)

Pinkie: Huh? It couldn’t have?

Rarity: You were nowhere near the auditorium when it went missing.

Pinkie: I wasn’t?

Rarity: (smugly) You were at the frozen yogurt shop.

Pinkie: (smiling) I was?

Rarity: (dryly) You literally still have frozen yogurt in your hand.

 (Cut to an extreme close-up of Pinkie’s face and zoom out far enough to frame a cup of this treat in her grip. She grins, sets it on the table, and wastes no time in scarfing down a spoonful.)

Pinkie: Mmm…yeah, you were just so upset, I thought confessing would make you feel better. (She digs in as Rarity gives her a squint-eyed stare.)

Rarity: (voice over) I could tell that dame had a sweet tooth—for trouble! (aloud) There’s still something you are not telling me. You saw something!

Pinkie: (suddenly unnerved, between bites) Like at the frozen yogurt shop, I took more than one free sample, and then I put the used sample spoons in the wrong cup—

Rarity: Slow down!

Pinkie: —and then someone took my spoon—

Rarity: (standing up) This is bigger than spoons!

Pinkie: —and I watched them, Rarity!

Rarity: P-P-Pinkie—

Pinkie: (leaning across, shaking Rarity by the lapels) I watched them eat my yogurt germs!

Rarity: (pulling Pinkie’s hands off) Pinkie Pie, please! Have you or have you not seen my boot?!

(A wide-eyed stare from the improbable suspect.)

Pinkie: Ohhh! (smiling, pointing to one side) You mean the one under the pile of bell-bottoms?

(Pan quickly in that direction to a box filled with random articles of clothing, from which the sole protrudes to refract the scant available light. As in the “Choose Applejack” ending, it comes through in color. Zoom out quickly to frame Rarity as full color returns to the view; her suit is light gray with large, pale yellow buttons. She gasps happily upon spotting it.)

Rarity: You solved the mystery!

(Cut to Pinkie, who is still going to town on her frozen yogurt and has managed to get some of it on her cheeks.)

Pinkie: But I have so much more to confess.

(A pale finger sneaks across to swipe a taste of whipped cream, and a longer shot frames the self-assured young sleuth licking it away and standing alongside Pinkie. The view returns to black and white.)

Rarity: (voice over) Solving a case never tasted so good.

(“Iris out” to black, centered on her face and with a brief pause before the aperture fully closes.)

“Choose Trixie” ending

[Note: All lines marked with one asterisk (*) are delivered as a voice over.]

(Snap to a black-and-white close-up of a closed door, though whose frosted window the silhouette of a girl’s head approaches. On the start of the next line, it swings open to reveal Trixie on the other side and the camera zooms out quickly to frame Rarity seated at the table in the boiler room, under the single overhead lamp. The investigator wears a long-sleeved dress with lighter-colored fabric across the arms/shoulders and a small plumed “fascinator” hat, but has shed her pendant. Trixie enters the room, on the receiving end of an icy glare, as the door swings shut on its own.)

* Rarity: The moment she strutted into my office, I already knew she was guilty. Only guilty people strut like that. That’s a guilty person’s strut.

(On the next line, Trixie sits down across from Rarity and adopts a crossed-arm smirk, glancing at one hand’s worth of fingernails.)

* Trixie: The moment I strutted into her office, I knew I could outsmart this buffoon. (Rarity glowers across at her, glancing here and there.)

* Rarity: The dame wasn’t talking, and that was fine. I can not-talk too. I can not-talk for hours. I’m not even talking right now.

* Trixie: Hmph! (Elbows on table; chin on knuckles.) Me neither.

* Rarity: Looks like Trixie picked up a racquet and decided to play.

* Trixie: Little does she know, two can play this game.

(She reaches across the table with five wiggling fingers, throwing a monkey wrench into Rarity’s mental gears. Confident that her psych-out has worked, Trixie shifts into a sideways slouch on the chair and crosses her arms again to aim a smirk toward her adversary. A clock fades partway into view, superimposing itself over the two girls, and they adjust their postures in a wordless staring war as the hands advance quickly through the better part of two hours. The only sliver of color throughout is the whirling second hand. From here, cut to a close-up of Rarity, who straightens up with a scowl; the clock is gone.)

* Rarity: Oh, she’s good. (A devious smile stretches across the white face.) But I had a little special something prepared.

(One hand dips below the tabletop to Trixie’s visible surprise and returns holding a small purse—not the same one she used in “Best Trends Forever.” Sweat begins to run freely down the grayed-out illusionist’s face as several cosmetics are swiftly dumped out.)

* Trixie: Makeup?

(With another calculating smile, Rarity selects a lipstick and twists the casing to extend it—a vivid red against the colorless tableau. Extreme close-up of Trixie’s widened, fearful eyes.)

* Trixie: We could be here…

(Back to Rarity, who takes her time applying it and pressing her lips together to even it out.)

* Rarity: …for hours. (Trixie stands up indignantly…)

* Trixie: You win this round, Rarity— (…and heads for the door.) —but the match ain’t over yet. (Close-up; she shakes a silent fist.) The Great and Powerful Trixie always prevail—

(Full color resumes in the instant it takes her to stumble and pitch forward.)

Trixie: Ow!

(She stands up and looks toward the floor; a longer shot shows a scatter of stone fragments that have tripped her up. This angle frames Rarity’s fascinator as pink and reddish-pink, with plumes in a pale pinkish-yellow.)

Trixie: (turning on full room lights; Rarity stands up) You better clean up these rocks. Someone could get hurt.

(The fashionista’s dress can now be seen to have the same color scheme.)

Trixie: Not me— (Rarity leaves the table for a closer look.) —but you know, someone.

(The applied lipstick is gone by this point. Close-up of the scattered bits; zooming out slightly; they form a rough trail that leads to the missing boot, lying by a mop and bucket and with its opening hidden by a dropped air conditioner filter. The thing flips upright to reveal a shamefaced Spike wedged inside.)

Rarity: (taken aback) Spike?

Spike: Sorry. I wanted to see what it’s like to be a dancer.

Rarity: (kneeling, pulling him out) You want to dance in the play? (tenderly, standing up) Aw, we’ll find a spot for you, Spike. (sternly, but smiling) But next time you borrow a boot, ask first.

(The view reverts to black and white.)

* Rarity: Case closed.

* Trixie: (pumping a fist) Trixie, amazing. (Spike, puzzled, glances from one to the other.)

* Spike: How come nobody’s talking out loud?

(Fade to black.)