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 several 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 ahead of himself, 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. (She pockets her phone.)
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 is 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.)
MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS—FORGOTTEN FRIENDSHIP
Alternate title: “Most Likely to Be Forgotten”
Written by Nick Confalone
Produced by Angela Belyea
Story editing by Nick Confalone
Directed by Ishi Rudell
Co-directed by Katrina Hadley
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Notes: This transcript has been prepared from the version of the special that is available
(in five segments) on the Hasbro YouTube channel. It includes several scenes that
were cut for time when the special premiered on Discovery Family.
The Discovery Family airing contains no title card, while each YouTube segment
does, under the alternate title shown above.
This special premiered after the start of the Digital Series; refer to the set of
Volume One transcripts for details on the characters’ everyday outfits.
An extended version of the song in Act Four is included at the end of this
transcript.
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a long shot of the rear entrance of Canterlot High School. A parking lot lies between it and a stretch of woods, at whose edge the camera is placed, and a snatch of blue morning sky is visible through the treetops. Zoom in slowly as Apple Bloom hurries across the grass to greet the waiting Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.)
Upbeat acoustic/electric guitar melody with keyboard and drums, moderate 4 (D major)
(Fade to white, then in to the front steps and tilt up past the doors as Micro Chips and Sandalwood trade a high five. Stop on the large eight-pointed star set in a tall window above the doors; this flares white to fill the screen, after which the view fades in to the busy lobby. Sunset Shimmer stands in the middle of the floor, camera in hand to snap a picture of the two boys as they wave and pass. Zoom in slowly on her.)
All Rainbooms except Sunset: Ah, ah-h, ah-h, ah, ah-h
Ah-h, ah-h, ah-h-h
Electric guitar out
(She sets off down a hallway, on the hunt for other good shots, and finds an athlete and eco-kid only too happy to strike a pose.)
Sunset: Back in the day, I used to walk these halls
Acting tough, but all alone
(Stopping near a corner, she spots her six friends and Spike hanging out just around the bend and gets a round of welcoming smiles, as well as an enthusiastic wave from Pinkie Pie. Sunset grins from ear to ear and moves to join them.)
I needed a friend to lend me a helping hand
I couldn’t do it on my own
(The seven girls and dog cluster in as Sunset holds her camera at arm’s length and aims it at them. A flash fills the screen with the resulting snapshot; she floats up past it, the view wiping behind her to Twilight Sparkle and Spike in the school library, hitting the books hard.)
Electric guitar in
Rainbooms: We’ve come so far together, got memories to treasure
(Bookworm and pooch make goofy faces behind/beneath their reading material, and the camera flash deposits their picture on the screen. A soccer ball flies past it to another that shows Rainbow Dash defending one of the field’s goals; zoom in past the frame as she catches it and the image starts to move.)
I look at you, stories come back to life
(She tosses the ball up, ready for a kick—and then Pinkie catches her with a hugging tackle from behind just as the flash goes off and the two are captured on film in a midair tumble. A rainbow streak curls past them to a shot of Applejack and Rarity seated at adjoining desks in a classroom; the designer has the farmer’s hat in hand and is stitching on it as two green eyes shoot her a slightly annoyed look. The picture border fades away as the action resumes.)
And if I need reminding, I know where I can find you
(The headwear is set back on the tousled blond hair, and a flash captures Rarity’s beaming face and Applejack’s happy reaction. A flower/vine pattern has been applied to the brim, while apples and a large pink heart adorn the crown. Blue gems rain down past the photo, the camera following them to one of a kneeling Fluttershy and Sunset on the school lawn; Fluttershy cuddles a mildly irked Angel. Zoom in through the frame as the motion resumes; as soon as she passes him over to Sunset, he smiles and nuzzles her cheek, and a flash yields a picture of the three.)
In these pages you’ll last forever
(The four snaps just taken tumble down past the camera, the background behind them changing to the entire group in the hall. Sunset lowers her camera, and they head off down the way; cut to within a room, whose closed door swings open to admit them. A zoom out frames computers and printers, a string of pictures tacked up on one wall, and a cluttered bulletin board.)
All Rainbooms except Sunset: Ah, ah-h, ah-h, ah, ah-h
Ah-h, ah-h, ah-h-h
Electric guitar out
(Sunset sits at a keyboard and clicks the mouse, triggering a flash of white that fills the screen and subsides to a flashback to the end of Equestria Girls: the battered, teary-eyed girl climbing out of the crater into which Princess Twilight and company blasted her. The view is white-edged and rendered in soft focus, with washed-out colors.)
Sunset: Remember when I, I lost the crown?
(The ponied-up violet teen pulls her to her feet with a gentle smile.)
You didn’t leave me out in the rain
(Another flashback, this one to the end of Rainbow Rocks: pan slowly across Sunset and the ponied-up Princess Twilight and Rainbooms, performing to bring down the Sirens.)
Vocal harmonies behind lyrics
Rainbooms: We still have songs to sing
(Extreme close-up, the end of Friendship Games: energized by the magic of her friends, Sunset takes Midnight Sparkle’s hand in hers, and a wisp of healing energy makes its way up the violet arm as a tear dissipates from the purple eye above it.)
Magic transforming
Harmonies out
(Fade to white, then in to the seven touching down on the grounds of Camp Everfree after defeating Gloriosa Daisy in the climax of Legend of Everfree. They have ponied up and are clad in the “hero” outfits bestowed on them by their newly acquired magic pendants.)
Special in every way
(The seven crystals whirl into view before them; cut to a slightly earlier moment when all but Twilight are receiving them.)
The gems chose us by name
Electric guitar in
(The screen flashes white and clears to give a full-color, normally focused view of Twilight in the here and now. She is holding Sunset’s camera, and a bit of telekinesis extracts its memory card.)
Rainbooms: We’ve come so far together, got memories to treasure
(Fluttershy jumps fruitlessly to get at some boxes stacked on top of a storage cabinet.)
I look at you, stories come back to life
(She finds herself being hoisted up by a grinning Applejack, whose hat is back to normal. Close-up of an emerging printout; Rarity considers it with some bemusement, then laughs upon realizing that Pinkie has been using this printer to run off copies of her face with tongue stuck out.)
And if I need reminding, I know where I can find you
(Rainbow blurs past the two and slides to a stop so she can pass the memory card off to Sunset.)
In these pages you’ll last forever
(Plug it in, a twinkle of magic playing around the fingers; the screen fills with the five pictures taken during this song.)
Other Rainbooms: Ah, ah, ah-h, ah, ah-h, ah, ah-h
Sunset: Forever
(The printer turns out a sheet with text and pictures, which meets with Rarity’s approval.)
Other Rainbooms: Ah, ah, ah-h, ah, ah-h, ah, ah-h
(Fluttershy reads through a yearbook as Sunset carries another copy and some notes across the workroom and gives a thumbs-up to a working Twilight.)
Sunset: Forever
Other Rainbooms: Ah, ah, ah-h, ah, ah-h, ah, ah-h
(Slow pan across the group; Pinkie throws a paper airplane to Rarity, Fluttershy and Rainbow are sharing a book, Applejack sets a box on a countertop. Sunset allows herself a satisfied smile.)
Sunset: In these pages you’ll last forever
Song ends
(So they are working on the current yearbook, then. The red/gold-haired girl begins to cross the floor, so blissed out that she utterly fails to notice a living body coming straight at her. The camera angle leaves nothing visible of this second individual but a mass of long, unkempt, dark green hair and a sliver of sweater striped in two shades of light brown. They collide head-on, tumbling to the floor amid a snowstorm of loose pages; the yearbook thuds down at Sunset’s feet, and she finds herself staring at a girl with pale green skin and a scatter of freckles under each dark brown eye. In addition to the sweater, she wears jeans and two-tone, striped gray moccasins. This is Wallflower Blush, who speaks in a subdued, somewhat flat tone of voice.)
Wallflower: Excuse me.
Sunset: I’m sorry. I didn’t see you come in.
Wallflower: (dryly) I’ve been here for a while. (She jerks a thumb to one side; Sunset starts gathering up papers.)
Sunset: (sheepishly) I didn’t realize.
Wallflower: I’ve been trying to get your attention for, like, half the song.
(Being called out so bluntly ignites a heavy-duty blush on the yellow-orange cheeks. Cut to Applejack/Fluttershy/Rainbow at the computers; now Fluttershy has the camera.)
Applejack: Ain’t she a quiet one?
Rainbow: Yeah, and we know some pretty shy people. (to Fluttershy) Am I right?
Fluttershy: (puzzled) We do? Who?
(The speedster throws a knowing look to the blonde, who rolls her eyes good-naturedly at Fluttershy’s failure to pick up on their jibe. Back to Sunset, now on her feet and propping the dropped yearbook and a few pictures on the ledge of a chalkboard.)
Sunset: I’m Sunset Shimmer— (adding photos; Wallflower stands up) —president of the yearbook committee and editor-in-chief. Do you want to join? We could always use extra help.
Wallflower: I’m Wallflower Blush.
Sunset: Nice to meet you.
Wallflower: (dryly) I’ve been on the yearbook committee all year.
Sunset: (blushing, taken aback) Oh! Um…
Wallflower: We met in ninth grade English.
Sunset: (trying to play it off; blush fades) And I was saying it was nice to meet you then. You didn’t let me finish.
(The mousy girl rolls her eyes in clear disgust, and an uncomfortable silence follows. Sunset tries to break it by reaching for the yearbook, but hastily pulls her hand back at Wallflower’s next words.)
Wallflower: (giving her some pages) Anyway, I counted up all the votes for the yearbook superlatives.
(The other six Rainbooms are quick to cluster in around Sunset with a scramble of giddy audible reactions.)
Sunset: (reading) “Most Likely to Succeed…Best Smile…Class Clown…” (Gasp; zoom in quickly.) …oh! We won Best Friends!
(Cut to her perspective, shifting slowly down a page that shows individual photos of the other six and a block of text by each.)
Sunset: Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, and me! (Back to her on the end of this.)
Pinkie: (hugging others) I always knew I liked you all, but now it’s official— (Close-up.) —in yearbook form! The people have spoken!
(Zoom out; she is now standing on a countertop. Twilight plucks the sheets from Sunset’s hands and skims them.)
Twilight: Oh! Good for Micro Chips! “Most Likely to Invent Cold Fusion.” (trying to play it off) Not a reason to be jealous. Pfft! I’m not!
(She voices a strained, slightly unconvincing giggle through her teeth as Fluttershy offers a gentle smile.)
Fluttershy: (taking pages from her, patting a shoulder) Don’t worry, Twilight. We know you’re a genius.
Rainbow: Besides, it’s just the yearbook.
(Pinkie responds to this assertion by uttering a deep, stunned gasp, soon joined by Fluttershy, Rarity, and Sunset.)
Sunset: (needled) Just the yearbook? (Pinkie claps a hand to her own forehead.)
Applejack: (to Rainbow, groaning) Now you gone and done it. (Pinkie nods gravely.)
Sunset: (pacing) The student body has entrusted me with the responsibility of gathering their memories into the pages of this book. In thirty years we might not remember everything, but we will remember what’s in the yearbook.
Rainbow: Well, I’m entrusting you not to put us next to Best Muscles. (opening/shutting a book) Every time you close the book, it’ll be like we’re kissing Bulk Biceps.
(Rarity crosses to her and plucks the volume away with an audible shudder.)
Rarity: (setting it aside) Why don’t we take our picture at the beach on Saturday? (Pinkie grins…) Everyone’s bound to look adorable. (…and stands on the counter.)
Pinkie: (singsong) Beach day! (jumping down to Twilight/Fluttershy) I’ll make my world-famous “Fun in the Sun” cupcakes! (aside, to Fluttershy) The secret ingredient is edible sunscreen! It’s SPF Fun-Hundred!
Fluttershy: Yecch.
(Comes now the sound of the workroom door opening; cut to Trixie entering from the hall, her dander up.)
Trixie: The Great and Powerful Trixie demands to speak to the yearbook editor immediately!
Sunset: (glumly) Unfortunately for me, that’s me. (crossing to her) What do you want, Trixie?
(A blue hand snatches away the paper she holds, and the purple eyes race down the lines. The door is closed again.)
Trixie: Ha! Just as I suspected. (flicking it) I was not voted Greatest and Most Powerfullest! Explain yourself.
Sunset: (stroking chin) How should I put this? You didn’t win Greatest and Most Powerful because it wasn’t one of the superlatives.
Trixie: (smugly, picking up/leafing through an earlier yearbook) Hmm! Neither was Biggest Meanie— (holding it out to Sunset) —but that didn’t stop you from winning it our freshman year.
(Her perspective on the end of this; she hands it over to Sunset, whose face registers real worry as she takes it all in. A close-up of the top half of the page tells all: a picture of an infuriated Sunset in a hall, reaching to grab the photographer’s camera as Snips and Snails smirk and laugh in the background. She wears the outfit she sported in Equestria Girls and Rainbow Rocks, and the caption is marked by a skull with flaming eyes, pegging the yearbook as one from her “cross me at your own risk” days. From here, cut back to her, Applejack, Rainbow, and Rarity.)
Applejack: (stammering a bit) That was different. The whole school voted for her. (Sunset winces; now Pinkie leans in.)
Pinkie: (whispering) She was sooooo mean!
(Now the reformed bully slumps on her feet and turns her face away as the tactless pink teen ducks away, replaced by Twilight.)
Twilight: (patting Sunset’s shoulder, tossing book to floor) Of course, we all know you’ve earned the right not to be remembered that way.
Sunset: (smiling) Thanks. (Wallflower picks it up; she hardens her face and addresses Trixie.) We’re not having a “Greatest and Powerfullest” superlative. Sorry.
Trixie: Oh, you’re the one who’ll be sorry, Sunset Shimmer! When you least expect it, I’ll have my revenge— (Extreme close-up of her eyes.) —and then I’ll disappear, like this!
(Zoom out quickly to frame her and the Rainbooms; she stands with her back to the door.)
Trixie: (holding up a small ball) Behold—the Magician’s Exit!
(The item is thrown down, detonating into a thick cloud of gray smoke that fills the screen and sets off quite a few hearty coughing fits. The screen clears to give a close-up of Sunset, who directs a puzzled stare toward the door as the sound of its rattling handle is heard—caused by the would-be illusionist fighting like mad to get it open.)
Sunset: (smiling) Allow me.
(She holds up a key on a camera-shaped ring.)
Sunset: (walking toward door) We were actually on our way out. (She unlocks it for the scowling Trixie.)
Trixie: Hmph!
(Out she goes, followed by seven giggling friends. Cut to just outside as the last of them exit, leaving Wallflower alone in the workroom; the focus shifts to her.)
Wallflower: (calling after them) I’ll just finish up! (Sunset backs up into view.)
Sunset: (reaching in around doorframe; click of switch and lights go out) Ooh, forgot to turn off the lights!
(Off she goes again, the green-haired worker’s spirits dropping into her moccasins.)
Wallflower: In the dark.
(Dissolve to a long shot of Sunset’s room, first seen in the “Monday Blues” short. The camera is positioned at the end opposite the loft that holds her bed, giving a view of the entire space. Couch, rug, and end table set up facing a television, gaming console, and bookshelf; stereo speakers and an amplifier near a storage cabinet at the opposite wall; three guitars—one acoustic, two electric—hung on the wall by the steps leading up to the loft; boxes piled up under the steps and on top of the cabinet. The string of lights on the loft railing glows warmly, accompanied by a second one lining the underside. A computer is set up on the desk under the loft, and a bulletin board and corner bookshelf mark the walls around it. The night sky is visible through the floor-to-ceiling window that faces the loft, and Sunset is in her pajamas and lying atop her bed on her stomach, slippered feet kicking idly at the air. Zoom in slowly.)
Sunset: (voice over, dictating) “Dear Princess Twilight…”
(Close-up: she is writing in her magic journal and has removed her pendant. The zoom continues.)
Sunset: (voice over) “…I thought you’d be happy to hear that the girls and I were voted Best Friends in the yearbook today.”
(Seized by a sudden moment of worry, she pulls a book from the nearest shelf. The color of its cover gives it away as the one in which she won Biggest Meanie even before she opens it.)
Sunset: (voice over) “After all, if you hadn’t forgiven me, I’d still be the arrogant student I was when I left Equestria.” (She puts it aside, smiles, and plies her pen again.) “You gave me the second chance I didn’t deserve, and I’ll never forget it. Your friend, Sunset Shimmer.”
(Having eased her slippers off by this point, she closes the cover and raises her eyes to gaze gratefully toward the huge window. Cut to just outside it and zoom out as she puts the journal away and turns off the lights. Unnoticed by her, a reddish, ribbon-like filament whispers its way up past the roof of the building and is soon followed by many others of similar hue. They wind over the rooftops, circle the dome on the roof of Canterlot High, then descend on a particular spot in the woods behind the campus. The targeted spot glows red, then pale green, and sends out a brilliant white pulse that fills the screen.)
(Just as quickly as it came, the glare subsides to a close-up of the sun in a cheery daytime sky. Pan/tilt down to the sound of young people enjoying the fine weather, and stop on a lively stretch of beach. Twilight walks into view, having donned a one-piece purple swimsuit decorated in bright pink dots down the front and the attached skirt that covers her hips, as well as two-tone blue stripes and a five-pointed pink star across the bust. She is wearing the stone from her pendant on its original chain around her neck; all other girls will have their pendants on as well when seen next. A grin, a pose with one hand on hip and the other flashing a peace sign, and the screen flares white again. This time, the view clears to show her image on a small display screen, which goes blank as the drone to which it is attached veers away from the camera; now her star-marked pink flip-flops can be seen. The flyer settles into a hover before her and pivots to show the lens it used to get the shot.)
Twilight: Group picture! Practice run number thirty-six-A, attempt seven—success! (It bleeps wearily and sinks out of sight.) Oh, no!
(As soon as she gets fingers around the housing, it starts trying to tear itself away, prompting a tug-of-war as Applejack sets up a beach chair not far away. Her swimwear consists of a blue wetsuit crop top with gold/white trim and a red apple below the collar, above a close-fitting blue bottom with a red waistband and yellow trim at the hips. She turns to watch just in time to see Twilight pitch to the sand on her back and immediately haul it and herself back upright.)
Twilight: Your eyes do not deceive you! I finally invented a selfie-sensing camera! (as it tries to get away) It hovers into position whenever it detects a selfie opportunity!
(She drags it back to herself. Now Rainbow can be seen in the background behind Applejack: sleeveless black wetsuit crop top emblazoned with a yellow/green/magenta lightning bolt, black-trimmed magenta shorts, magenta cap sporting a sun and fluffy cloud.)
Applejack: I’d prefer to take selfies myself…ie.
(Pan away from her to the jock, whose footwear proves to be yellow flip-flops with magenta accents of a heart framed by an upside-down horseshoe shaped to its contours. She stands looking down at a kneeling Rarity, who has five beach towels spread out in front of herself—all nearly the exact same shade of white. Loose knee-length skirt in light blue, hung with paler gems; black-edged purple bikini top adorned with another such gem; broad-brimmed, dark gray sun hat with a pale blue band; brown flip-flops marked by the same accent as on Rainbow’s, but in pale blue. During the following sequence, she turns her head enough to show the hatband tied in a bow with one more blue gem attached.)
Rarity: Which beach blanket should we use for the photograph?
Rainbow: (slightly puzzled) You mean the white one or the white one?
Rarity: (scoffing indignantly, picking one up) This is toasted oat— (Another.) —and linen lamb’s wool. (Her perspective; she points from one to another.) Eggshell, warm frost, pale nimbus, and… (Both again.) …well, that one is white, I suppose.
Rainbow: (dryly) Yeah. That’s what I was talking about.
(A breeze kicks up, carrying one of the towels away before either girl can react. Cut to Spike, engrossed in digging a hole in the sand; he takes notice of the wafting, wayward textile.)
Spike: Don’t worry, Rarity! I got it!
(Off he goes after it, racing toward the surf; in close-up, two pink legs pull ahead to his surprise, their feet covered by pink/orange swim fins.)
Pinkie: No, I got it, I got it!
(Tilt up. Deep pink/white one-piece with lighter two-tone pink ruffles at the hips and gold bows down the front; a heart-shaped orange gem set in the largest bow just under her pendant; no hair decorations.)
Spike: (now o.s.) Nuh-uh! (The towel continues its escape.) I got it! I got it!
(As its corner just brushes the water surface, his shout mingles with hers and she topples forward. Both wind up in an undignified heap on the sand, Pinkie having landed on Spike; zoom out from them to frame the sodden towel just ahead of them.)
Pinkie, Spike: I don’t got it.
(The cloth begins to rise, carried atop a mass of drifting seaweed that emits a sepulchral respiration as the water streams down from it. Pinkie pulls in an affrighted gasp.)
Pinkie: Ocean monster! (running off with Spike; it plods toward them) OCEAN MONSTER!!
(What they fail to notice is that the creature’s lower legs are quite human—light yellow at that, and with pink/yellow swim fins on the feet. After a few steps, it stops and shucks off the covering of vegetation—actually a camouflaging blanket—to reveal Fluttershy. Seen from the shoulders up: diving mask and snorkel, black wetsuit with pastel blue/yellow sleeves and a magenta fish on the front, butterfly hair clip still in place.)
Fluttershy: (removing fins) Quincy the sea turtle says the tide’s coming in.
(She crosses to the other three: Pinkie and Spike hiding respectively behind and under a beach chair, Rainbow sitting on it, Rarity folding up her towels and stacking them on the end. The legs of the wetsuit reach past Fluttershy’s knees and carry yellow-edged blue patches.)
Fluttershy: We should take the picture soon or risk having damp ankles. Oh, he’s so thoughtful.
(She offers the blanket to Rarity, who voices her disgust at it. Cut to a close-up of Sunset making her way onto the beach, bag slung over one shoulder. From the waist up: dark gray bikini top marked by an orange/white sun, a yellow-orange gem at the throat, and matching spots on the edging; loosely tied skirt that shades from yellow-orange at the waist down to deeper reds and oranges, gold bracelet on left wrist. The sight before her—six girls messing around with Twilight’s drone and one dog snoozing on Rarity’s stack of towels—brings her around to a warm smile, and she quickens her pace to catch up. Fluttershy has shed her mask and snorkel and put away her camouflage. She and Applejack are wearing flip-flops in the same design as those of Rainbow and Rarity—yellow on pink and yellow-orange on red, respectively.)
(The drone gets a shot of a waving Applejack and a beaming Fluttershy, then one of Rarity blowing a kiss, and its next move is to target Sunset as Pinkie rubs Spike’s belly. A longer shot frames the sunburst pattern worked into Sunset’s skirt.)
Sunset: Oh, Twilight! You got the selfie sensor working?
(She grins broadly and adopts a cheerful pose—but instead of taking her picture, the drone pivots away and flies back past Applejack/Fluttershy/Rarity before taking cover behind Twilight. All four of these girls’ faces have shifted from “sun-kissed merriment” to “total lack of recognition” without even touching the clutch.)
Sunset: (puzzled) O…kay. (smiling again) So who’s ready to take a Best Friends picture?
(Cut to a slow pan across all six of the other girls, eyes broadcasting various degrees of incomprehension, fright, and barely hidden hostility. Fluttershy’s nerves get the better of her in short order, prompting her to hide behind Applejack as best she can.)
Sunset: (good-humoredly) Uh-oh, what did I do?
(Still nothing from the group, Pinkie shrugging her bafflement. She has ditched her swim fins in favor of flip-flops that match Rainbow’s, and Sunset has on a yellow-orange pair with black straps marked by gold-trimmed black stars. Spike has joined the girls, bringing the number of confounded onlookers to seven. Long pause.)
Sunset: Should we do it now, or did you want to swim first? (No response.) How’s the water?
Applejack: (incredulously) Sunset Shimmer, askin’ to be in our Best Friends picture? (chuckling dryly) Now I’ve heard it all.
Sunset: Am I missing the joke here?
Rarity: The only joke is whatever this is you’re playing on us, acting all nice like you’re our friend.
Fluttershy: (standing up) And it’s not funny.
Rainbow: Because you aren’t nice! (Pinkie turns her eyes away.)
Applejack: And we ain’t friends.
Sunset: Wait. What?
Applejack: You got applesauce in your ears? I said, we ain’t frie— (Sunset darts in and grabs her wrist.) —whoa!
(The new arrival’s eyes blaze white, the camera zooming in quickly, and her telepathy-by-contact generates a color-edged memory of her own pony-up moment in the battle against Gloriosa in Legend of Everfree. Zoom out to frame her five similarly transformed friends—all but Twilight at this point—but her own image fades away from the center of their line. A new recollection kicks up: Sunset throwing her arm around Twilight’s shoulder to welcome her to Canterlot High at the very end of Friendship Games. The next three lines reverberate slightly.)
Sunset: You sure can.
(As the other five gather in to hug the newest Wondercolt, she disappears once again. A slightly earlier memory: she and Twilight float gently down to ground level after their powered-up face-off, and her image vanishes to leave Twilight standing alone, glasses gone and hair fallen out of its bun.)
Twilight: (softly) I’m so sorry.
(Near the end of Rainbow Rocks: Sunset stands defiantly to face down the Sirens, microphone in hand and Princess Twilight and the Rainbooms tumbled behind her.)
Sunset: (singing, helping Princess Twilight up) My friends are here to bring me ’round
(This is as far as she gets before going bye-bye once again. Cut to the group sleepover at Pinkie’s house earlier in this same film, panning slowly across the bedroom, then to the grouping of Fluttershy, Rarity, Sunset, and Spike as Rarity prepares to snap a selfie. For the fifth time, the Equestrian expatriate’s image fades away into nothing—and then the screen blazes white and returns to the present. Sunset gasps in horror and drops Applejack’s wrist, her eyes returning to normal and showing her that the degrees of fear, disbelief, and rancor have only increased on all fronts. Fluttershy has huddled down behind Applejack again. Zoom in slowly on Sunset.)
Sunset: It’s like I’ve been…erased!
(Cut to a “To be continued…” title card and snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a long shot of the stalemate, panning slowly across. Cut to Sunset after a moment.)
[Animation goof: Her bracelet disappears briefly during this scene.]
Sunset: This has to be a bad dream. (hands to temples) Wake up, Sunset! Wake up! (Pinkie pinches her arm.) Ow! (Zoom out; Pinkie and Rainbow have moved in close.)
Pinkie: Nope. You’re awake. (She pinches herself.) Ow! (giggling) Me too!
Sunset: (to Rainbow) What about you?
(She seizes one blue wrist, triggering her powers to bring up a moment from the motocross leg of the Tri-Cross Relay in Friendship Games. Having just been knocked off her bike by the mutant vines erupting from Equestria into this world, she skids along the dirt track on her back. An over-shoulder glance affords Rainbow a good clear view of the crazed greenery looming over her dazed teammate—who promptly vanishes to leave only her wiped-out wheels. Rainbow steels herself and opens up the throttle as the flashback ends.)
Sunset: No! Rainbow Dash, you saved me in that race! (Rainbow shakes out of her grip.)
Rainbow: What are you talking about?
Sunset: I can see your memories, and I’m not in them!
Applejack: And exactly how is it you can see our memories, if you don’t mind me askin’?
Sunset: (fingering her pendant) With this!
Rarity: (scoffing, touching her own) Pfft! It’s obviously a cheap knockoff of ours.
Sunset: We got them together! You were there, remember?
Fluttershy: (softly, to Applejack) Why is she still talking to us?
(The unexpected outcast claps a hand to her head as if trying to get her stalled mental engine to turn over. It seems to work.)
Sunset: Pinkie Pie! What about when I came to your sleepover before the Battle of the Bands?
Pinkie: (scornfully) Hah! The closest you’ve ever come to a party of mine is freshman year, when you pretended to be Applejack and texted me— (imitating Applejack’s drawl) —“Your party is lamer than a hungry duck in snow boots!”
Applejack: Like I’d ever say that.
Pinkie: (normal voice, sadly) It really hurt my feelings.
Fluttershy: And wasn’t very nice to the ducks, either.
Sunset: That was a long time ago! (She shifts her attention to…) Twilight! You remember me, right? We’ve been through so much together. Please!
Twilight: I only met you once—when you yelled at me at the Games.
(The Friendship Games, that is—a reference to Sunset chewing her out after the Tri-Cross Relay.)
Sunset: (frantically, as Twilight turns away) Doesn’t anyone remember that I’ve changed?
(A slow pan across the six girls picks out the hard glares, averted eyes, and shaken heads that give her all the answer she needs. She is left speechless for a long moment until her brain kicks into gear again.)
Sunset: Maybe not anyone. I’ll be right back! (She hustles away.)
Rarity: (acidly, calling after her) Don’t hurry back, darling!
(Where the flame-haired teen ends up is underneath a lifeguard’s lookout booth constructed on stilts. Leaning against one of these, she extracts her journal and pen from her bag, but hesitates just short of putting ink to paper. A deep breath to steady her nerves, and she gets down to it.)
Sunset: (writing) “Dear Princess Twilight: This is gonna sound crazy, but…are we friends?” (sliding to the ground) “Am I…” (Close-up of the pages; she continues o.s.) “…nice?”
(Pen taps worriedly against paper, no more words forthcoming; back to her.)
Sunset: Please answer…
(She huddles miserably into herself, resting her forehead against the open tome. After several seconds that feel like an hour, a twinkle of light spooks her into sitting upright; cut to a close-up of the two exposed pages. One of them holds Sunset’s query, while words trace themselves onto the other, blank one in a bright pink glimmer of magic.)
Princess Twilight: (voice over, dictating) “Of course we’re friends!”
(Hope floods through Sunset’s mind, manifesting itself in a relieved smile and sigh in the pause before the response continues.)
Princess Twilight: (voice over) “Are you okay? What’s going on?” (Sunset writes.)
Sunset: (voice over, dictating) “Kinda hard to explain.”
(She breaks off to steal a glance at the others’ resumed leisure, then continues.)
Sunset: (voice over) “Might be easier in person—” (chuckling a bit) “—well, not ‘person,’ so to speak.”
(Dissolve to an overhead shot of Canterlot High as she steps up to the Wondercolt statue base and its portal to/from Equestria, then cut to a close-up. Now back in her civvies, she glances from one side to the other in order to make sure the coast is clear and puts a palm to the polished vertical face. It penetrates in a ripple of white energy, and she follows it through as the glare fills the screen. Her elongating form spirals down the whirling, vivid tints of the passage between worlds and away from the camera.)
(Cut to the library within the Castle of Friendship. Princess Twilight paces nervously before the apparatus that houses her magic mirror; power crackles from top to bottom, the glass flaring to life and bringing a smile to her face. Out comes Sunset as a unicorn, her shoulder bag having become a saddlebag as it did when she made the jump in “Mirror Magic.” This time, however, she is up on her hind legs and stepping out carefully, rather than careening across the room and knocking out most of the inventory.)
Sunset: Twilight! (She flails her forelegs and starts to totter.)
Princess Twilight: Sunset?
(Sunset yelps, losing her balance, but Princess Twilight is there to catch her forelegs and ground her safely.)
Sunset: Oops! (Weak laugh.) I was trying to hug you.
(After they do so, Princess Twilight backs off with a concerned look.)
Princess Twilight: So, what’s been happening?
(Dissolve to the pair walking side by side along a corridor away from the library.)
Princess Twilight: This is bad, Sunset. It’s way beyond anything I’ve ever heard of. (Sunset stops; she keeps on.) Although…
Sunset: (suspiciously) What? (Princess Twilight circles to face her.)
Princess Twilight: I just had an idea—but you might not like it. (She pointedly averts her eyes; Sunset leans in close.)
Sunset: I’ll do anything to get my friends back, Twilight.
Princess Twilight: There is one pony who might be able to help—but I don’t know if you two want to see each other.
Sunset: Who?
(The realization slowly settles in like a three-ton boulder sinking into quicksand.)
Sunset: Oh.
(Dissolve to a long shot of Canterlot, tilting down slowly from the opulent spires to the city’s drawbridge gate, then cut to a corridor within Canterlot Castle. Princess Twilight and Sunset advance toward a set of closed doors at which two guards are stationed. The yellow-orange mare has shed her saddlebag and is most definitely ill at ease, so the violet one gives her a reassuring little grin as the doors swing open. Beyond them lies the throne room, Princess Celestia standing front and center atop the dais and Princess Luna just to her left. A close-up picks out both sisters’ unsmiling demeanors, and the elder spreads her wings imperiously, prompting Sunset to shrink down into herself as undiluted terror roots itself in her brain. By the time she and Princess Twilight reach the base of the dais, she has her eyes firmly fixed on the red carpet they have been following.)
(Princess Twilight offers up a humoring grin in a room that is deathly silent except for the gushing fountains that flank the dais. Luna has now shifted down one step from Celestia’s level.)
Princess Twilight: (forced casual tone) So, Princess Celestia! (Laugh.) You’ll never guess who’s back. Actually, maybe you can guess, ’cause she’s right here. But, um…
(The stern, stony white face regards both of them through one visible, narrowed eye.)
Princess Twilight: (whispering, to Sunset) Am I helping?
(Not bothering to even attempt an answer to this incredibly dumb question, the prodigal pony cycles a deep breath through her lungs and steps forward to look Celestia straight on.)
Sunset: Princess Celestia, the last time we saw each other, I was your snide little pupil who betrayed and abandoned you.
(A camera shift on the end of this reveals that Luna is now standing two levels down from Celestia.)
Princess Twilight: (softly, to Sunset) I wouldn’t have said it that way! (Clear throat; address Celestia.) What Sunset means to say is— (Sunset cuts her off with a raised hoof.)
Sunset: I mean that I come before you a changed pony, humbly asking for forgiveness, guidance, and knowledge.
(The humorless solar sovereign folds in her wings and descends to floor level. Sunset’s eyes constrict in pure panic as she finds herself enveloped by the approaching shadow; all too soon, Celestia is looming over her and staring her down point-blank.)
Sunset: (hunching away from her) Or I can just go and you never have to see me again.
(She is absolutely not prepared for a gold-shod hoof to reach out and lift her chin gently—or for the white face to shift into a smile of warm acceptance.)
Celestia: I’ve missed you, Sunset Shimmer.
Sunset: (voice catching/breaking) I’m so sorry.
(She eases close enough to embrace one long foreleg, tentatively as though afraid it might shatter, and Celestia reciprocates by leaning down to wrap the other one across Sunset’s back. The wordless act of forgiveness prompts smiles on both visitors’ faces, Princess Twilight letting hers bloom into a toothy grin and a Pinkie-level squeal of barely contained glee. Dissolve to them and the royal sisters walking along a different corridor.)
Celestia: I am not familiar with the exact spell that could have erased your friends’ memories. (Close-up.) But it sounds like Equestrian magic is at work in your world. (Pan to the other three.)
Luna: Hmm. Indeed. The toilings of this nefarious enchantment could portend unimaginable catastrophe if left unchecked.
(During this line, Sunset begins struggling to contain a sudden outburst of laughter, unnoticed by Luna at first. Princess Twilight catches on fairly quickly, though, and finally gets her to can it with a wing-slap upside the head that draws a quizzical sidewise glance.)
Sunset: Sorry. I’m just used to hearing you say, “No student parking in the faculty lot.” (Weak laugh.)
Luna: This faculty lot you speak of sounds like a place of great power.
(She strides ahead as Princess Twilight and Sunset freeze in their tracks, confusion over Luna’s lack of comprehension giving way to a shared smile and laugh. A longer shot reveals that all four are now stopped.)
Celestia: The answers you seek are in the Canterlot Library.
(Dissolve to the exterior of this selfsame facility—as it so happens, the one Moondancer frequented in “Amending Fences”—and zoom in as the four climb the steps toward the front doors. A close-up picks out a Royal Guard stallion standing watch at the entrance; his coloration is an exact match for Flash Sentry, but he is an earth pony instead of a pegasus. The sight of him causes Sunset to do a double take, but he stoically holds his post. Inside, the camera tilts down from the glass-domed ceiling to the great rotunda beneath it, then cuts to a close-up of a crestfallen Sunset.)
Sunset: There’s over a million books in here. (Zoom out; Princess Twilight fidgets excitedly alongside.)
Princess Twilight: (laughing) I wish! (nudging her, backing off) But don’t worry. You’re looking at somepony who knows this place like the back of her hoof. (Sunset smiles at this; she glances away, puzzled.) Where are you going, Princess Celestia?
(The answer, revealed when the camera cuts to the siblings on the end of this, is “off down a long side aisle.”)
Celestia: To the restricted section.
Princess Twilight: (hyperventilating) There’s a…a re…a re…a re…
Sunset: (gently touching her) Breathe, Twilight.
(She goes after the pair, leaving Princess Twilight to compose herself and catch up. Soon enough, all four have discovered that the aisle in question terminates in a dead end lined with shelves. Celestia and Luna fire up their horns and tilt two side-by-side books toward themselves, then back into place—yellow with a sun and blue with a crescent moon, respectively. Two loud clunks of engaging machinery accompany the shifts; once the books are back in place, the entire section of shelves slides off to one side to reveal a stone-lined passage. Princess Twilight and Sunset stare as a billow of dust dissipates, their minds well and truly blown and Princess Twilight’s jaw falling full open. Sunset throws her a smirk, eases it closed, and follows the first two Princesses as the third one shakes her brain back into drive.)
(Dissolve to a torchlit stretch of the passage, Celestia and Luna leading the way as Princess Twilight and Sunset descend a flight of stairs to follow, then cut to the shadowed upper reaches of a vast chamber and tilt down slowly as bats flap and chitter through the expanse. Two immense doors trimmed in brass bar the way for the quartet. Celestia and Luna train their magic on the handles; cut to the other side as the doors swing open and all proceed through. Now both Princess Twilight and Sunset gape in unadulterated awe, the former pulling in a slow gasp that inflates her lungs to bursting. Cut to just behind them and tilt up slowly to frame the gargantuan cavern in which they have arrived. Shelves crammed with books and artifacts are carved into the walls at irregular intervals; ladders are provided to reach the very highest sets; flights of stairs on either side of the entrance lead up to a second-story balcony; a study table stands in the center of the smoothed stone floor, facing an immense blazing fireplace. The camera motion puts Princess Twilight out of view during the next line.)
Princess Twilight: Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! So many books, all unread! (Back to her and Sunset.) Ancient historical artifacts! (Small gasp; she summons a few volumes to herself, short of breath.) I just…I’m not…I can’t… (Wheeze.)
Sunset: (smugly) You sure you’re up for helping me go through all this stuff? (Princess Twilight lunges across to grab her.)
Princess Twilight: Don’t take this away from me!
Celestia: (from o.s.) I should warn you, however.
(Cut to her, standing by a contraption of gears and inscribed horizontal rollers mounted within a vertical frame. Belts run over their axles, connected to a crank and a set of levers and pedals at floor level. Patches of cobwebs speak to a lack of use.)
Celestia: The archives’ mechanical catalog has not been…well maintained.
(Sunset crosses to the rig and pulls a lever to bring it to juddering, rattling life. Dust billows from the mechanism, causing her to give a muffled cry of shock and clap a hoof to her nose. It does her no good, though, and she goes into a coughing fit as belts break and rollers slide off their axles to clatter across the floor. Sunset and Celestia can do little more than cringe away from the wreckage, sharing a moment’s hopelessness.)
Princess Twilight: (with great enthusiasm, zipping over to Sunset) Guess we’ll have to read everything! Come on!
(In no time flat, she has flown up to the balcony and begun levitating books off the nearest set of shelves.)
Princess Twilight: No way! Can you believe they have Canterlot Cantabiles, Volume Thirty-One? You heard me—thirty-one! (blissfully, hugging one book) Sunset, that’s when it gets goooood! (Gasp; she charges off, towing the others along.) Over here!
(On the start of the next line, cut to Celestia and Sunset, trading a tranquil and knowing smile, respectively.)
Princess Twilight: (now o.s.) An original Windigo Weather Warning from the pre-Equestrian era! (Sunset shrugs and settles to her haunches; both laugh.) Oh, my goodness! I just—I just can’t!
(Dissolve to an overhead shot of the cavern floor, Celestia and Luna having departed. Sunset is at the central table, poring over one of several books piled up on and near it, while Princess Twilight is on the balcony and floating several items away from a full display case for close study. A dissolve shifts Sunset to one end of the table, where she sits to continue her reading, and brings Princess Twilight flying in toward the other. The next one frames Sunset on the side facing the fireplace and puts Twilight at a second case of items on the side opposite the first one. One more frames an extreme close-up of a book, whose cover closes under Sunset’s influence; zoom out to frame her yawning at the table. The volume is thick enough to serve as a stop for any type of door up to and including a bank vault, and a pile of scrolls takes up a good bit of the remaining table space.)
Sunset: (wearily) Did you know Chancellor Puddinghead tried to pass a law mandating earth ponies drink carrot juice at every meal? (Pause.) I do. Know that. (Slump down, head on forelegs.) Now.
(Pan slightly to bring an overly chipper Princess Twilight into view.)
Princess Twilight: Aww, sounds like you got to read all the fun books.
(Close-up of her, sitting amid a scatter of others on the floor.)
Princess Twilight: (yawning) I should probably take a break from looking.
(Back to Sunset, who heaves a deep sigh and floats her own scrolls and gargantuan text away.)
Princess Twilight: (giddily, zipping to her) Because I found something! (floating a small chest onto table) You’re familiar with The Seven Trials of Clover the Clever?
Sunset: Obviously. Why?
Princess Twilight: Well, first of all…
(Close-up of the container, an ornament of a bear’s skull worked into the front and positioned so that the edge of the lid separates upper and lower jaws. A medallion of a four-leaf clover is set into the front panel. As she continues, her magic opens the chest to extract a scroll from the cobwebbed interior and the camera zooms out to frame the pair.)
Princess Twilight: …these date back to before the founding of Equestria.
(Close-up of the slowly unrolling parchment; a block of glyphs is sandwiched between two drawings. On the right is a mare, while on the left is a stone carved with patterns that vaguely resemble an eye and surrounded by a ring of moons in various phases.)
Princess Twilight: (from o.s.) Look at this. (Back to her and Sunset.)
Sunset: (reading) “The Memory Stone.” That sounds promising.
Princess Twilight: (nodding, letting scroll drop to table) It belonged to an evil sorceress who was practically invincible.
(Cut to her perspective on the end of this, panning slowly from one section to another as she points them out.)
Princess Twilight: With the Memory Stone, she could erase any memory from anypony, even fragments of memories. (Back to her and Sunset.)
Sunset: (alarmed) Fragments like…memories of me being nice?
Princess Twilight: (nodding) Mmm-hmm.
(Her perspective again, starting with a four-leaf clover.)
Princess Twilight: Clover the Clever knew the sorceress had to be stopped and the Stone destroyed, so he chased her across land and sea. But every time he got close, the sorceress would erase his memory and escape. But he kept finding her. (The pair again.)
Sunset: How?
Princess Twilight: These scraps of parchment. He secretly wrote everything down, so he’d know what had happened and where to go next, like a trail of bread crumbs.
Sunset: Clever! (A pause as this word sinks in.) Ohhh! Clover the—yeah, got it.
(Close-up of the last revealed illustration: the sorceress passing through a magical gateway and staying just out of her pursuer’s reach.)
Sunset: (from o.s., pointing) What happened on the other side of this portal?
(Princess Twilight’s field pushes the roller along, only to find one last written passage followed by a torn-off edge.)
Princess Twilight: (from o.s.) The last page is missing! (Back to her and Sunset.) Clover must have hid it to keep anypony else from finding the Memory Stone! (A moment’s thought.) Sunset… (The picture again; she continues o.s. and points.) …what if the Memory Stone ended up in your world?
(Back to them on the end of this; the pieces start to click together in Sunset’s mind.)
Sunset: And someone is using it to make everyone hate me again!
Princess Twilight, Sunset: But who?
(Fade to black, then snap to a “To be continued…” title card and back to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade from the title card to black, which yields to a view of clear blue sky as if a cloth covering were being pulled away from the camera. A cut to an overhead close-up of Twilight, lying on a beach towel and tipping a blue peaked cap up from her eyes, picks the shot out as being from her perspective, lying on her back. The cap has a pink band marked by a matching compass rose and secured by star at one end and a bow at the other; surprise registers as she gets its bill clear of her eyes and realizes that she is lying in someone’s shadow. A longer shot and slow pan across the area confirm the source as Pinkie, standing at her feet with a cupcake in hand. Applejack and Fluttershy are sunbathing on towels of their own, Rarity lounges on a chair with a folding reflector under her chin, and Rainbow is setting up a volleyball net. Twilight props her upper body on her elbows.)
Pinkie: We’ve been out here a while. (Close-up; she starts smearing the treat onto her exposed skin.) Time to reapply!
(She finishes by daubing a swath across her face—evidently she was serious about the idea for edible sunscreen—and then bugs out, dropping the remains.)
Twilight: (to Applejack/Rarity) I’ve been thinking. Should we be worried about Sunset Shimmer?
Trixie: (from o.s., disdainfully) Yeah. Worried she comes back!
(Eyes/heads turn in the direction of this voice, Twilight’s swivel picking out the star on her cap’s bow; On the end of this line, cut to Trixie’s feet nearby, stretched out in black-starred violet flip-flops. The camera pans slowly to frame the rest of her—sleeveless blue crop top with white pinstripes and a darker bow secured by a gold-trimmed dark blue star; dark blue skirt speckled with gold moons and stars; purple-lensed sunglasses. She has arrayed herself on a lounge chair.)
Trixie: (lifting shades) I think it’s a shame the way she’s treating you, pretending to be your friends [sic]. She’s obviously up to something. (Lower; a palm frond waves over head.) Sunset thinks the whole school exists just to serve her. (snapping fingers) Water, please!
(Zoom out slightly. The frond is in the hands of Snails, while Snips scrambles up with a towel over one arm and carrying a bottle of water—both of them have been put on houseboy duty, it seems. They wear swim trunks and flip-flops, the pale skin on chests and legs testifying to how little time they spend in the sun. Trixie opens her mouth wide, a cue for Snips to pour directly into it from the bottle. This action earns a round of hairy eyeballs from the five girls in the immediate vicinity, Pinkie having cleaned her face and somehow buried herself in the sand to leave only her head exposed. A halfway decent sculpture of a mermaid covers the rest of her, with two seashells in place as a bra. She is first to dismiss the whole scenario and lets her head flop back with a blissful grin. Overhead shot of the entire tableau, panning slowly away from Trixie, whose sunglasses are again propped on her forehead.)
Trixie: You know, seeing as how the yearbook president seems to be having a little identity crisis, I believe that means the vice-president takes over. (Close-up.) And why— (A gasp of mock surprise.) —that’s you, Rarity.
Rarity: If this is your way of asking to be made the Greatest and Most Powerful, the answer is no. (She lowers her reflector.) And didn’t we have this conversation yesterday? I can’t quite remember. (Applejack and Fluttershy step up.)
Applejack: Uh…
Fluttershy: Hmm. (Trixie crosses to the girls.)
Trixie: Maybe we did, maybe we didn’t. Memory is such a fickle thing. You never know when you’ll forget something important, like how great and powerful I am— (with sudden intensity) —which is why I need to be in the yearbook!
Rarity: (groaning, covering face with reflector) I’ll think about it.
Trixie: (smirking) That’s all I ask.
(Dissolve to a long shot of Canterlot and the usual daily business surrounding it and zoom in slowly.)
Sunset: (voice over) I should be getting back to my world.
(Cut to the restricted section of the Canterlot Library, where she, Princess Twilight, and Celestia have gathered at its table. She has her saddlebag strapped on.)
Sunset: Maybe I can convince my friends I’m telling the truth, now that I know what we’re looking for.
(Close-up of an open book, across whose pages a sketch of the Memory Stone has been laid—the eye-marked rock from the scroll Princess Twilight found.)
Princess Twilight: (from o.s.) The Memory Stone.
(Her field plucks up the page and stows it in Sunset’s bag.)
Princess Twilight: (crossing floor) I’ll stay here and search the restricted section top to bottom— (smiling fiercely) —until I find a way to get your friends’ memories back. (Cut to an unconvinced Sunset.)
Sunset: If that’s even possible.
Princess Twilight: (from o.s.) Oh, it’s possible. (Cut to her.) Even if I have to reorganize the whole library by subject—or maybe chronologically. Oh! And fix the broken catalog machine!
(Cut to the remains of the mechanical catalog on the end of this line, a few gears still whirring and emitting spurts of dust. Zoom out slightly to frame Sunset, whose eyes shift from worry to skepticism as she transfers her attention to Princess Twilight. Celestia registers a measure of disbelief as well, the clang of a falling component drifting across to the three. She and Sunset direct good-humored smiles toward Princess Twilight as the latter blushes and clears her throat.)
Princess Twilight: I’ll figure it out.
Sunset: Thank you—both of you.
Celestia: This is quite a contrast from the last time we parted ways. (Cut to Sunset, downcast; she continues o.s.) But you are not that way anymore. (Sunset smiles; Celestia steps closer to her.) With every choice you make, you prove yourself to possess a kind heart.
Sunset: (glancing toward Princess Twilight) I guess I had a good teacher.
Princess Twilight: (blushing) You were a good student. (Both laugh.)
Celestia: (scowling) Are you saying I wasn’t a good teacher? (Next two lines overlap, both spoken hastily.)
Sunset: Oh, no! I-I wasn’t—I’m—what I meant—she didn’t say that, I, uh…
Princess Twilight: She didn’t say that! I-I…
(Cut to the glowering royal visage on the end of this scrambled response. It crumbles to the tune of a musical giggle that floors the two hearing it for a split-second, but they are quick to catch on to the joke and join in.)
Sunset: Princess Celestia has a sense of humor? Looks like I’m not the only one who’s changed.
(She and Princess Twilight break into another chorus of giggling. Fade to black, then in to an extreme close-up of Rainbow’s palm covering the camera lens. She withdraws it to frame an extreme close-up of her face on the beach, the image shifting and re-focusing slightly.)
Rainbow: (hushed) It’s been a grueling afternoon— (Zoom out; she stands holding a volleyball.) —but here we are.
(Longer shot: Twilight’s drone hovers just in front of the stripe-haired athlete. The previous view was through its camera eye.)
Rainbow: The final match. Next point wins. (The drone veers away…) A hush falls over the crowd of ten thousand fans. (…and stops near Twilight, who sits reading.)
Twilight: Go, sports!
(It shifts to hover just overhead as Fluttershy/Pinkie and Rainbow/Rarity square off from opposite sides of the net.)
Rainbow: (normal volume) I’m not holding back this time!
Fluttershy: (fearfully) That’s what I’m afraid of! (She whimpers as Pinkie bounds toward the net.)
Pinkie: (fiercely) Bring it on, Rainbow Dash! (pulling it down briefly) You and Rarity just bought your team a one-way ticket on the express train to You’re Going Down!
Rainbow: (impressed) Huh. Nice game face, Pinkie Pie.
Pinkie: (brightly) Thanks! I’ve been practicing all day. (She grabs the drone and aims it at herself, her intensity returning.) Isn’t that right, little baby camera?! You’re in my house now!
(Cut to a camera-eye view of her crazed face on the second half of the previous line, then back to all four players. She releases her death grip on the device so it can cruise back to Twilight, who has put her book away. Spike, in her lap, snarls and gives chase as it clears out. She is alone for only a moment before Rarity crosses to her with a giggle and sits on the edge of a beach chair.)
Rarity: (playfully) Somebody’s jealous. (Spike, now several yards away, watches the drone.)
Spike: (dismissively) Please. Call me when the flying can opener learns how to fetch.
(The pup with the power of speech gets quite a surprise when said airborne kitchen tool uses a pincer-tipped arm to set a can of dog food in front of him. Two narrowed green eyes shoot it a glare of profoundest contempt.)
Spike: You’re the worst.
(Once it has swung away with a few sad little beeps, he glances furtively around himself. Satisfied that the area is clear, he wastes no time in shoving as much of his muzzle into the can as will fit and chowing down. On the court, Rainbow—now playing solo on her side—tosses the ball up and launches herself after it to deliver a crushing serve. Fluttershy cries out in fear and covers her head with both arms; the ball bounces off them and is met by the leaping Pinkie’s monster spike. The shot follows a most unorthodox trajectory: into the net, slung back to bounce off her face, then over the net. Rainbow backpedals in a blur of blue legs and dives for the save, but ends up on her back as the ball hits the sand just out of reach. She voices a frustrated groan; cut to an extreme close-up of the ball rolling to a stop. The approaching sound of a person severely out of breath, and the sight of a foot in a dark gray boot landing close by, mark Sunset’s return to this world in human form.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) Great news, guys! (Tilt up; she is in her street clothes, bag over shoulder.) I figured it out! Someone’s erased your memory with Equestrian magic!
(She crosses to the volleyball net; Applejack and Rarity have joined the other three players, and the drone hovers overhead.)
Sunset: You don’t remember, but we’re still friends! (No response; she fishes out the Stone sketch.) This is the Memory Stone. (Cut to Fluttershy/Pinkie/Rainbow; she continues o.s.) Do you recognize it?
(Not even a flicker on these three faces, nor on those of Twilight/Applejack/Rarity when the camera cuts to them. Spike scampers over to the six as Sunset, facing them, lets go with a deflated sigh.)
Sunset: Right. Guess not. (She bags the sketch and pulls out her phone, facing it to them.) But look.
(Extreme close-up: it displays the group photo of the seven girls and Spike that appeared during the end credits of Friendship Games. On the start of the next line, Sunset swipes through two other pictures: the Fluttershy/Rarity/Sunset/Spike selfie from Pinkie’s slumber party one film earlier, then the group hug at the end of Friendship Games.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) See? This is proof! (Zoom out to frame her.) We are friends!
(Blue-green eyes broadcast a silent entreaty loud enough to carry for miles, but its intended recipients return only a scatter of noncommittal grunts and mumbles.)
Trixie: (from o.s., scoffing) Oh, please.
(She approaches the seven, accompanied by Snips and Snails. The former totes a cooler and the palm-frond fan and wears an inflatable floating ring around his neck; the latter hauls a bag of supplies and a furled blue/white beach umbrella topped by a gold-trimmed star in light blue.)
Trixie: This is the same girl who made flawless fake photos of your friend trashing the gym.
(Referring to Sunset’s attempt to frame Princess Twilight for the ruination of the Fall Formal decorations in Equestria Girls. Before the resident world-jumper can react, Pinkie has darted in toward her.)
Pinkie: (suspiciously, taking her phone) Yeah, wait a minute! Is this supposed to be me making such a ridiculous face? (shoving it back to her) Ha!
(Extreme close-up of the screen: the pink visage is contorted into a goofy scowl, one eye squinched shut.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) I’d never make a face like that!
(A zoom out puts the lie to those words, as her features are set in this exact expression.)
Pinkie: Preposterous! (Delivered with enough force to blow Sunset’s hair back.) Fake, I say!
(Trixie’s malicious cackle cuts in right about here; close-up of her face, sunglasses gone.)
Trixie: My work here is done.
(Zoom out; she lifts the same type of smoke bomb she used for her botched Act One exit.)
Trixie: Trixie out!
(It is flung down to emit its payload in a screen-choking blast, but once again the view clears to leave her a bit short of success. She has only made it as far as the steps leading up from the beach, Snips has fallen over the cooler, and Snails has dropped his cargo and is rubbing his eyes to clear them. All seven Rainbooms goggle at this second failed escape as Twilight’s drone idles its way toward the trio.)
Trixie: (calling across beach, waving/dancing in place) And don’t forget, Rarity! You promised to put me in the yearbook! (Snails begins to pick everything up.)
Sunset: (to Rarity, backing away) Wait. You did what?
(Close-up of one boot coming down on the abandoned volleyball, causing her to stumble.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) Wh—? (To her, from the knees up.) Whoa!
(A sickening crunch drifts up from ground level, stopping her cold, and she turns to get a good look at the drone now pinned under her foot. Its camera lens is broken, one of the four propellers has been knocked off, and the housing has been severely dented As she shifts her stance, another prop sags at a very wrong angle and the device emits a few forlorn beeps and a wisp of black smoke from the sparking, exposed wires. Sunset cringes at the damage; Twilight rushes past her with a gasp of horror and drops to her knee beside it.)
Sunset: It was an accident! (Twilight picks it up.) I can help fix it!
Twilight: (icily) I think you’ve helped enough.
(With the exception of Fluttershy, the five still over by the net allow their faces to tell all their unbridled disgust. Sunset’s eyebrows lower over her grimacing mouth as she turns her focus to the departing Trixie and her flunkies.)
(Dissolve to the exterior of Canterlot High and cut to the interior of her locker, the camera pointing out at her grim-set features as she slams the door shut to black out the screen. Snap immediately to her proceeding down the hall, ill will replaced by trepidation due to the fearful murmurs and occasional dirty look from the students she passes. She runs into Micro and knocks him to the floor without immediately realizing it; her offered hand is met by a deer-in-the-headlights stare and a hastily proffered pocketful of bills and coins across her palm. The legal tender sparks her back to anger, and the yellow-orange fingers crumple it into a wad.)
Sunset: (pulling Micro up, shoving it against his chest; it falls away) I don’t want your lunch money! I’m not mean! Got it? (He flees.) I’m not mean!
(Trixie, reaching into her locker, observes these developments with a faint smile that brings Sunset storming across the hall. The door is slammed shut, coming within a hair’s breadth of smashing a hand and eliciting a surprised yelp. She is back in her usual threads.)
Sunset: So, here we are.
Trixie: Here we do are.
(Smugness gives way to a touch of embarrassment at having run roughshod over the rules of proper grammar, then a glare of clearest animosity. Sunset mirrors it, baring her teeth in a silent snarl, and both pairs of eyes narrow in alternating extreme close-ups. The camera cuts to frame both; Trixie’s locker is open again, and both girls brace themselves to throw down.)
Trixie: You really want to do this here, in the hallway, in front of everyone?
Sunset: Up to you.
(The few spectators back slowly away from the combat zone. Trixie is first to make a move—not to punch or kick, but rather to smile and yank out a rolled-up poster which she lets fall open. It depicts her standing amid a mass of clouds behind an opening stage curtain, hands outstretched in front of herself to manipulate a deck of playing cards spread out into a long, curling ribbon. The zip-up sweater gapes open in the front to reveal that her usual blue-violet skirt is now part of a dress whose front sports an open eye; a gold necklace and gold-edged stars in blue-violet adorn the collar. A circle of star/moon runes serves as backdrop, and the top edge displays a banner of text marked by a top hat and magic wand.)
Trixie: Behold! Canterlot High School’s greatest and powerfullest student! If a seventh-scale mockup doesn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.
Sunset: (advancing on her with growing rage; she backs up) Where’s the Memory Stone? You turned my friends against me just because I wouldn’t put you in the yearbook as the Greatest and Powerfullest?! (sputtering) “Powerfullest” isn’t even a word!
(It takes a moment for the target of this outburst to figure out what to say next; when she does, it comes with a cocked eyebrow.)
Trixie: What are you talking about?
Sunset: It’s not a word!
Trixie: No. What Memory Stone?
Sunset: The one you used to erase everyone’s memory, you manipulative…blowhard!
(Trixie makes the leap from “baffled” to “excited” in record time.)
Trixie: A stone that could make everyone forget all the bad tricks I’ve done? (Gasp, catching herself.) Which is no tricks. (She hangs the poster on the nearest locker.) Your puny rock pales in comparison to the Great and Powerful Trixie!
Sunset: (floored, pacing) I don’t believe it. You have no idea what I’m talking about.
Trixie: (losing steam) I…don’t. Sorry.
(The pariah thumps her hand against a locker and slides down to a sitting position with a weary moan, covering her face with her palms.)
Trixie: (crossing to her) Did somebody really erase everyone’s memories of you?
Sunset: (nodding, uncovering face) Mmm-hmm. (Trixie slides down to sit alongside.)
Trixie: And even though we all know you’re the Biggest Meanie, you’re saying you’re not mean anymore? (She adds quotation marks with her fingers on “Biggest Meanie.”)
Sunset: It’s complicated.
(Close-up of Sunset’s crushed expression, panning to Trixie on the start of the next line.)
Trixie: So you have this idea of who you’re supposed to be— (glancing across at her poster; passersby laugh at it) —but no one at school sees you that way. Is that it? (Sunset nods; close-up.) Trust me. I get it.
(A barely audible, sardonic chuckle from the o.s. Sunset; pan to her, now smiling.)
Sunset: I can’t believe the only person who believes me is the one I called a manipulative blowhard. (Pause.) Sorry.
Trixie: (from o.s.) I took it as a compliment. (She stands up and offers a hand.) Let me help you find the Stone.
Sunset: (skeptically) What’s in it for you?
(To which the prestidigitator lifts one brow and shoots a glance back toward her poster. Sunset shoots to her feet, brimming with fresh ire.)
Sunset: No way! Absolutely not!
Trixie: Well, if you’d rather go on being the Biggest Meanie, that’s fine by me.
(Cut to Sunset and zoom in slowly on her glowering countenance and lowering eyebrows, then dissolve to the exterior of the Canterlot Library. Zoom in slowly and cut to a distraught Princess Twilight in its restricted section; the table here is stacked high with books, and the chest in which she found Clover the Clever’s account of the Memory Stone rests atop one tower.)
Princess Twilight: I’ve looked everywhere! Why can’t I find the missing pages? (hovering, forelegs flailing) I’VE ALWAYS BEEN GOOD TO YOU, LIBRARY!!
(She flops back down to her seat, thumping her face against the table. The impact jars the chest enough to make it overbalance and drop to the floor; Princess Twilight stares openmouthed, finding the lid broken, its skull ornament shattered—and a bit of parchment protruding from one of the pieces. Zoom in on this last, then cut to her approaching it with a soft gasp.)
Princess Twilight: (levitating it; Celestia steps up behind her) This is it! The last piece was in a secret compartment! (reading, alarmed) Clover the Clever buried the Stone!
(Cut to just behind her head, giving a clear view of the fragment: a picture of three stone towers arranged in a triangle, with spirals carved into their surfaces. The missing artifact is superimposed on the base of one of them to indicate where to look.)
Princess Twilight: This rock formation must be somewhere in the other world! (She turns away and thinks for a second.) But it doesn’t say how to get your memories back. (Gasp; she races back to the table and reads from Clover’s scroll.) “Perhaps if I had destroyed the Stone right away, some of my memories could have returned. But when the sun sets by the third day after a memory has been taken, it is erased forever.” (She glances worriedly up at Celestia.)
Celestia: You must warn Sunset Shimmer at once.
(Dissolve to Sunset and Trixie, both on their feet near the lockers and sharing a newfound camaraderie.)
Sunset: So, where should we start…partner?
Trixie: How about with what I call you? I’m thinking “The Great and Powerful Trixie’s Pretty Decent Assistant Detective Helper Person.”
(They walk o.s. on the end of this line, completely missing the gleam of magic that emanates from within a particular locker. Zoom in slowly on it and dissolve to Sunset’s bag inside, her journal aglow and a-quiver with an incoming message from Princess Twilight. Cut to a “To be continued…” title card and snap to black.)
Act Four
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the cafeteria at lunchtime. The rest of the Rainbooms save Pinkie have claimed a table, all back in their everyday outfits, and the missing sixth pops up behind Rainbow with a joyful little squeal. Light conversation breaks out as the camera pans to Sunset by herself at another table; she eyes her tray uncertainly, then pushes it away with a sudden grimace and sulks just before Trixie brings her own meal over.)
Trixie: (sitting, throwing arm across Sunset’s shoulders) A cafeteria full of suspects, two detectives, and only one Memory Stone. Seems impossible—but so does pulling a rabbit out of a hat, and I do that all the time.
(Sunset is somewhat less than impressed by this salvo of self-aggrandizement. Close-up of Trixie’s tray; she sets down a book and uses this to push it aside. The cover bears the same stardust-spreading wand as her skirt, and she flips through it to stop on a couple of note-filled pages.)
Trixie: (from o.s., producing/clicking a pen) Let’s talk motive. (Back to her and Sunset.) Who here hates you enough to erase everyone’s good memories of you?
Sunset: If you go back far enough… (deflated) …everyone.
(On the end of this line, cut briefly to her perspective—panning across the unfriendly stares coming at her from all directions—then back. She sighs quietly.)
Trixie: (writing) “Known enemies—all.”
(Dissolve to an extreme close-up of Bulk Biceps’ face, mouth open wide. A white hand places the end of a digital thermometer under his tongue, and he clamps his lips shut around it. The sound of a door being thrown open spooks him into letting it drop again; cut to his end of this room, the camera aimed at it. He sits facing Nurse Redheart—see the “Constructive Criticism” short—in her office, and Trixie has just burst in with a rather apprehensive Sunset in tow and book/pen in hand.)
Redheart: G-Good afternoon, ladies. Y-You feeling okay?
Trixie: That depends on how well you answer my questions. (Redheart gives her a dirty look.) Has anyone come in complaining of memory problems in the last few weeks?
Redheart: Not that I can recall.
Trixie: (pointedly) You can’t recall? (whispering, to Sunset) We’re too late.
(The “assistant detective helper person” rolls her eyes at this ham-handed approach to interrogation. Dissolve to Micro working at a computer, the camera aimed over his shoulder at the screen. Noticing the approach of the two girls’ reflections, he cringes into his chair and turns to face them with a cry. A longer shot frames all three in the library; he fumbles in the backpack resting by his keyboard and retrieves a carrot with a few bites taken from it. The sight causes Sunset and Trixie to recoil in clear disgust.)
Micro: Will you accept a half-chewed carrot stick?
Sunset: What? Ew! I told you, I don’t want your lunch money, and I definitely don’t want your lunch.
(But this does not stop Trixie from taking the used produce on the end of this line and biting down with gusto.)
Trixie: (to her, mouth full) Speak for yourself. (to Micro) Thanks.
(Once she has polished it off—leafy top and all—and swallowed, she leans down to do a bit of grilling.)
Trixie: Word around school’s you know a lot about erasing memory.
Micro: (adjusting glasses) I erased a ton of memory just this morning.
Sunset: You did?
(A quick spin on the swivel chair, and he has snapped a component up from the desk.)
Micro: Four terabytes of quanto-acelerflex memory, to be precise.
(Sunset gives Trixie a sour look and eye roll at having wasted time on this dead end, the latter jerking her thumb toward the exit to prompt both of them into leaving. Micro stares confusedly after them.)
Micro: How come no one’s ever impressed by that?
(Dissolve to an extreme close-up of the Stone sketch Princess Twilight prepared, held in a gray hand in a hallway. The edges of both girls’ hair are visible past its sides, and it is lowered on the next line to fully expose both of them.)
Sunset: Is there anything you can tell us about it? Anything at all?
(The holder proves to be Pinkie’s sister Maud.)
Maud: I can’t tell much from a drawing. (Cut to Sunset; it is passed back to her.)
Sunset: (crestfallen) Okay.
(She starts to leave, but freezes at further words from the flat voice; pan back to Maud on the start of the next line.)
Maud: Only that it’s felsic intrusive igneous, granular in texture, most likely arranged in an equigranular matrix with scattered biotite mica and amphibole, at least sixty-five percent alkali feldspar by volume, with a melting point of twelve-fifty Centigrade, plus or minus ten degrees. Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.
(Accompanied by the following. Sunset and Trixie exchange hopelessly bewildered glances; Trixie shrugs and Sunset cringes in reply; Sunset slowly backs off; Trixie offers a humoring little smile and follows suit.)
(Dissolve to the two sleuths in an empty classroom and zoom in slowly. Sunset stands staring morosely out a window, while Trixie sits at a desk with her book/pen resting before her.)
Trixie: Sure, it seems like we’ve only come up with dead ends, but…I mean, it…could be worse? (She nibbles on the pen; focus shifts to Sunset.)
Sunset: (sighing) It’s worse.
(Cut to just beyond the glass, a mild grimace contorting her features. The whirring of the propellers on Twilight’s drone can be heard.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Good as new!
(Pan/tilt down to her and the other five Rainbooms gathered on the grass near this corner of the building. She has repaired the drone and gotten it airborne again, and Fluttershy has Spike in her arms.)
Twilight: (pulling out remote control) Best Friends yearbook group picture, take two! Number thirty-six-A, attempt eight.
(Her eyes flick upward and she winces a bit. Cut to inside the classroom, showing her and Sunset in each other’s line of sight, then to Twilight again. She turns pensively away from the outcast’s pleading little wave before the camera cuts to the room again. Sunset can only watch as the girls gather in, their backs to her.)
Other Rainbooms: (muffled by glass) Best Friends!
(Her features twist into a look of smoldering fury as she makes for the door, leaving Trixie to gaze uneasily out at the tableau. Dissolve to a close-up of the drone’s picture—six happy teens and one dog on the grass, a distraught seventh visible through the window—and zoom out. Sunset has pulled it up on one of the computers in the yearbook workroom; she stares gloomily at it as Trixie crosses to her, no longer carrying her own book/pen.)
Trixie: (pacing) Oh, stop looking at that! You’re just gonna wind yourself up. You can’t think if you’re wound up. (moaning, fists to own forehead; Sunset eyes some pages) Think, Trixie!
Sunset: I wanted to come in here to see who we’re missing.
(Her perspective of the documents in hand; the topmost displays a grid of nine students’ pictures, each checked off in red.)
Sunset: (sighing) But we’ve talked to everyone, A to Z.
(She fans them out as she speaks—three in all, identically laid out and marked off with one exception. The center square on the second page bears only a featureless head/shoulders silhouette and a label and is not checked.)
Trixie: (from o.s., pointing at it) Wait.
(Cut to both; she reads over Sunset’s shoulder. Wedges of Wallflower’s figure are visible past Trixie’s hip and the crook of her elbow, and the drone rests at the end of the countertop at which Sunset is seated.)
Trixie: “Not pictured: Wallflower Blush.” Who’s Wallflower?
Wallflower: (mildly irked) I’m right here, you know.
(As she speaks, the others turn toward her in surprise and the focus shifts to her, Trixie moving enough to give a clear view.)
Trixie: (smiling/laughing sheepishly) Uh…who are you?
(Close-up of the green-haired girl, at a computer whose desktop background shows a well-cared-for garden that borders on a forest.)
Wallflower: Wallflower. I’ve known you since third grade. (Cut to Sunset and Trixie.)
Trixie: Ahhh! I remember third grade—not you specifically, but what a grade it was! (Disgusted glare from Sunset.) The Great and Powerful Trixie debuted her disappearing-frog trick. (laughing, crossing o.s. to Wallflower, fading out) You know, a lot of people don’t realize how much work goes into raising tadpoles. You really have to coddle them to—
(As she passes out of view, the journal in Sunset’s bag—now resting on the counter—starts to glow and vibrate. She opens it to find the message she missed, which includes front and back sketches of the Stone, and a new one coming in from Princess Twilight. Trixie’s voice continues indistinctly in the background.)
Princess Twilight: (voice over, dictating) “Sunset, we think the Memory Stone was buried under this rock formation.”
(There follows a hasty rendition of the three rock towers from the hidden page she found.)
Princess Twilight: (voice over) “And if you don’t destroy the Memory Stone by the time the sun sets today, all those memories will be erased forever!”
Sunset: How am I supposed to find a rock formation—
(Cut to her perspective of the new drawing; she slowly lowers the journal and sees Trixie prattling on to Wallflower. They stand to either side of the latter’s computer, and the camera zooms in to a close-up on the next line to give a full view of three standing stones equally spaced around the edges of the garden’s circular clearing. Each is only a few feet high. The next two lines overlap.)
Trixie: —debuted her disappearing-frog trick. (Giggle.)
Sunset: —that looks like that rock formation! (Back to her, smiling with new determination.) That’ll work.
(The journal goes back in the bag, which in turn goes on the floor, and she reaches o.s. for a moment. A soft click drifts back, after which she stands up with an innocent smile and a raised index finger.)
Sunset: Can I ask a silly question, Wallflower? (pointing to screen) Where did you take that lovely photograph?
Wallflower: (smiling, sitting at it) Oh! That’s my garden—well, the school’s garden, technically. I’m the president of the gardening club. I founded it, too. I’m also the only member— (deflating) —and the only one who’s ever been to the garden, or seen it… (with slight bitterness) …or even asked about it.
Trixie: (dryly) You’re not really into other people, huh?
Wallflower: (smiling hopefully) I was maybe going to add this picture somewhere in the yearbook. (to Sunset) What do you think?
Trixie: (crossing to Sunset) Sorry. Sunset doesn’t let anyone put things in her yearbook— (acidly) —no matter how much they deserve them.
Sunset: No! You should do that, Wallflower. (Trixie’s eyes pop.) Um, so don’t let us keep you from working on it.
Trixie: What?!? The Great and Powerful Trixie is…annoyed and insulted!
(She turns away and crosses her arms in a fit of pique, but Sunset throws Wallflower a big encouraging grin and nod. The mousy teen returns to her work, rapidly becoming so absorbed in it that she fails to notice Sunset’s quiet approach or the hand that lashes down to grab hers.)
Wallflower: What are you—
(Sunset’s eyes fire up as her telepathy kicks in; a flash of white, and she is seeing a memory of Wallflower standing alone by the gym wall during the Fall Formal, staring at her shoes as Flash and a ponied-up Princess Twilight walk by. A dissolve, and she is seen in nearly the same spot during the Battle of the Bands kickoff party in Rainbow Rocks as the Cutie Mark Crusaders pass. Another, and she stands alone in the crowd during the Friendship Games kickoff party in that film. One more dissolve puts her on the move along the dirt path that leads through the woods behind Canterlot High. She idly kicks a stone into the undergrowth, hearing it clack against something out of view, and turns for a better look. Cut to just behind her, panning slowly across the thick carpet of foliage; a rock juts up from this, bathed in a shaft of sparkling light.)
(Wallflower leaves the path, pushing through the overgrown bushes until she breaks through to a relatively clear area at whose edge the rock stands. It is one of three equally spaced around the perimeter, giving this spot away as the future site of her garden; the other two rocks are dormant. A smile, a flash of white, and she has set herself to the task of cleaning away the unwanted vegetation and planting flowers. One turn of her trowel unearths a small, earth-stained bundle tied shut with a rope; when she undoes the knot, the covering unfurls as a sheet of parchment wrapped around a rock perhaps twice the size of her fist. Brown eyes bug out at the discovery—and a close-up pins it as the Stone, the accompanying parchment covered with drawings and runes. Disbelief and wonder settle in on the pale green face.)
(Flash to the Act One confrontation between the Rainbooms and Trixie in the workroom. The camera is placed next to Wallflower, who has turned to watch. The next five lines reverberate slightly.)
Applejack: (sputtering a bit) That was different. The whole school voted for her. (Pinkie leans in.)
Pinkie: (whispering) She was sooooo mean!
Twilight: (patting Sunset’s shoulder, tossing the yearbook Sunset holds to floor) Of course, we all know you’ve earned the right not to be remembered that way.
(After Wallflower retrieves it, the view flashes to a close-up of it lying shut on a countertop. She rests a hand on the cover, sits down with a sigh, and picks it up.)
Wallflower: Why should you notice me? (sarcastically, opening it) After all, you’re Sunset Shimmer. (bitterly, tossing it back) Everybody loves you now.
(Close-up of the “Biggest Meanie” photo page on the end of this, then back to her; she stands up with an infuriated huff.)
Wallflower: Why can’t they see you haven’t changed?
(A brainstorm hits, and in no time she has snatched up her backpack and made a run for the door. Dissolve to her in the now-lush garden clearing at night; she kneels on the grass, sets her bag down, and extracts the Stone from it. After smoothing out the parchment on the ground, she takes the artifact in both hands, shuts her eyes, and concentrates hard. The carvings on the Stone begin to emit an eerie green light, a beam shooting skyward and a wave spreading over the ground. Cut to Twilight asleep in bed at home, the camera positioned to frame the end of her room not seen in the prologue of Legend of Everfree. Bookshelves line nearly every available square inch, including the area beneath a window at which a telescope is set up, and glow-in-the-dark stars and moons cover most of what is left. A flare of light spills in through the window, and Twilight briefly winces and moans as a ribbon of reddish energy issues from the side of her head and is drawn away. Printed on it is a sequence of diamond-shaped pictures of Sunset’s face—memories of her friend being stolen from her mind. Another such ribbon is taken from Pinkie’s head as she slumbers at home with her stuffed alligator Gummy; the same plays out with Applejack and Rarity in turn, the latter’s cat Opalescence snapping awake with a yowl and jumping off the bed as if to give chase. The purloined recollections swirl around the domed roof of Canterlot High and drop into the woods behind it, as seen in Act One; cut to a close-up and tilt down to follow them as they disappear into the Stone, whose carvings’ glow has gone from green to red. The beam it fired into the sky has stopped, and once the Stone itself goes quiescent, Wallflower opens her eyes and adopts a frightening little smile.)
(The extended flashback ends with a screen-filling flash of white that subsides to show Sunset; her eyes return to normal as the camera zooms out to frame Trixie and Wallflower.)
Sunset: (releasing Wallflower’s hand) You erased everyone’s memories?
Wallflower: Uh… (angrily) …yes. (Close-up of Sunset, plenty sore; zoom out to frame Trixie.)
Trixie: Wait. Who are you again?
(The forgettable girl picks up a photo of the seven Rainbooms goofing around on the front steps.)
Quiet, melancholy melody of reverberating electric guitar and synthesizer
Fast 4 (C major)
(She lets it flutter back to the countertop and sits at her computer.)
Wallflower: You don’t see me fitting in, I’m sitting here alone
(brushing fingertips over her reflection on the monitor)
Right beside my shadow, always on my own
Light percussion in; intensity slowly builds
(standing, crossing room)
If I could share my wildest dreams, maybe they would see
I’m more than just a wallflower, there’s so much more to me
Full percussion in
(Three broad stripes, each a different shade of green, sweep across to fill the screen and subside to frame her approaching a string hung with pictures of various students.)
Wallflower: I’m invisible, invisible, a droplet in the mist
(Three drift up past the camera, the view behind them changing to silhouettes grouped in twos and threes and more. She walks unnoticed through them.)
Invisible, invisible, it’s like I don’t exist
Percussion drops back somewhat; backing vocal harmonies in
(Zoom out, her head/shoulders becoming the “not pictured” silhouette at the center of the page of photos noticed by Trixie. A green hand caresses it as Sunset and Trixie look on.)
Wallflower: Right beneath my picture, this is what you’ll read
(She turns off her computer and paces away; Sunset notices her backpack on the floor and begins to sneak toward it.)
A laundry list of nothings, not likely to succeed
(Wallflower plucks a yearbook from a shelf, leafs through, and returns it; Sunset swipes the bag and nips out of sight, Trixie shifting to block her from view.)
A yearbook with blank pages that no one wants to sign
(The pilferer opens the zipper and starts fishing around inside.)
A memory forgotten until the end of time
Song ends abruptly
(The reason for the sudden halt is simple: she has caught sight of Sunset’s rooting.)
Wallflower: Hey! What are you doing?
(There ensues a vigorous tug-of-war over the backpack, which ends in Wallflower’s favor.)
Sunset: What did I do to you? Honestly, I don’t even know you!
Wallflower: Exactly! You had everyone fooled, but now they know you’re still…the Biggest Meanie!
Sunset: (advancing on her, menacingly) You’re about to see how mean I can get! (Trixie inserts herself between them.)
Trixie: Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. (to Sunset) Let’s not antagonize the person with the all-powerful mystery rock.
Wallflower: I don’t like confrontation. (reaching in bag) Let’s just… (pulling out Stone, facing it toward them) …forget this ever happened! (The carvings glow green.)
Sunset: (panicked) Don’t erase—
(Too late; the aura washes over her and clears a moment later. Sunset and Trixie are left standing alone and disoriented in the workroom, all traces of Wallflower gone. The magician is first to recover her senses with an airy smile.)
Trixie: (sighing) What was I saying? I’m sure it was something brilliant, but also—
(She voices an incredulous scoff upon noticing the time as given by a wall clock.)
Trixie: —how is it already three o’clock?
(To the door she goes, but it proves impervious to her assault on the knob.)
Trixie: (petulantly) Why won’t this door open? And what are we even doing in here?
Sunset: (with slowly dawning horror) I…don’t remember.
(Cut to a “To be continued…” title card and snap to black.)
Act Five
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in the exterior of Canterlot High. Zoom in slowly and cut to a rove through a hallway that is empty except for a student shutting her locker and walking away. The camera zeros in on a door at the far end, behind which a muffled pounding makes itself heard. The next line establishes it as the workroom.)
Sunset: (muffled, through door) Is anybody out there? Somebody! (Cut to her and Trixie inside; she is doing the pounding.) Open the door!
(She gives up the pummeling and turns to her fellow inmate in close-up.)
Sunset: If we don’t get outta here and figure out who has the Stone, in a few hours it’ll be too late to restore everyone’s memories! (sliding down against door into a heap) I’ll lose my friends forever. (Cut to frame both on the start of the next line.)
Trixie: How are we supposed to catch someone who can erase our memory every time we get close to catching them?
(Five yellow-orange fingers dip into a vest pocket, yielding a soft rustle that causes the blue-green eyes to go very wide. The cause turns out to be a wad of paper.)
Sunset: (smiling, holding it up) By being clever!
Trixie: What?
(Sunset stands up and straightens the thing out—a strip not much bigger than the ones found in fortune cookies.)
Sunset: I wrote myself a note! (reading) “Check the video.”
(Spotting Twilight’s drone, she picks it up, runs a worried eye over the electronics, and is very pleased at what she finds.)
Sunset: Yes!
(The thing is set down; close-up of its remote as she grabs it, an image of the bulletin board on its display screen.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) It’s been recording this whole time! (Button tap; cut to both.)
Trixie: Twilight’s camera? What are you talking about?
Sunset: I don’t remember doing it, but I must have realized our memories would get erased, so I pressed “record”!
(This, then, explains the o.s. click that was heard before she asked about Wallflower’s desktop picture. A bit of adjustment sets the video to rewinding for some seconds, to the point at which she began to explain it.)
Wallflower: That’s my garden. (Cut to Sunset and Trixie.)
Trixie: Who’s that?
Sunset: Wallflower Blush.
Trixie: Name’s not ringing a bell. (Sunset rolls her eyes wearily.)
Wallflower’s song begins
Voice of Wallflower: You don’t see me fitting in (Trixie groans.) I’m—
(She commandeers the operation with a tap that triggers an extended fast-forward.)
Trixie: Long song, huh? (Normal playback resumes after its end.)
Voice of Sunset: What did I do to you? Honestly, I don’t even know you! (Close-up of the screen on the end of this.)
Wallflower: Exactly! (Back to them; voice only.) You had everyone fooled, but now they know you’re still the Biggest Meanie!
Voice of Sunset: You’re about to see how mean I can get!
(Trixie cringes at this exchange, but Sunset’s expression hardens into barely controlled rage. A tap stops the playback.)
Trixie: (hesitantly) She’s kinda right about you.
Sunset: (sourly, setting remote down) Yeah, thanks.
Trixie: (smiling) Actually, the Wise and Moralizing Trixie was making a point. You said you didn’t do anything.
Sunset: I didn’t! I wasn’t mean to her at all!
Trixie: Well, maybe it’s not good enough to not be mean to someone. Maybe you have to be nice.
(The rage slowly dissipates into uncertainty tinged with a dash of regret as Sunset picks up the remote and stares at the image of a hopping-mad Wallflower on its screen.)
Sunset: You’re right. (vexed) Not that it matters; I’m still trapped in here. (sighing, smiling hopefully) Unless you can magic us out of here.
Trixie: (turning away) Oh, what’s the point in trying? You’ve seen enough of my tricks to know what’ll happen.
(Close-up of the image of Wallflower, being switched over after a moment to the Best Friends picture taken just outside the classroom in which she sulked during Act Four. A heavy sigh from the o.s. Sunset as she runs her fingers across it and looks up at the back of Trixie’s head; cut to her.)
Sunset: At least when the sun goes down and everyone hates me forever, I’ll still have one friend in the morning.
Trixie: Huh? (Sunset crosses to her without the remote.)
Sunset: (coaxingly; Trixie smiles) And, I mean, she is the greatest and powerfullest Canterlot High School has to offer, so— (thumping Trixie’s shoulder) —I guess I can’t complain.
(The smile turns into one of faux-mocking triumph.)
Trixie: You poor fool! You actually believed me when I was pretending to give up? Mere stage banter. The Great and Powerful Trixie never gives up on herself—or her friends. (She catches herself.) I mean, her Pretty Decent Assistant Detective Helper People. (A nervous laugh, then a fist raised high.) Behold—the Magician’s Exit!
(The fist comes down, generating dense clouds of smoke as in her first two attempts at this trick—except that this time around, she is not holding a smoke bomb. When the view clears, she finds herself standing in the hall, just outside the still-closed workroom door. It takes her a moment to fully comprehend what has just happened—and for pure elation to set in.)
Trixie: (jumping for joy) Yes! It worked! I finally did it!
(The celebratory tone comes to a grinding halt when Sunset’s hand reaches up past the bottom edge of the door’s glass pane and taps on the section not covered by the windowshade inside. Her mildly disgruntled face follows it.)
Sunset: (muffled) Still in here!
Trixie: Um… (Forced casual laugh.) …um, all part of the trick. Have you out in a jiffy.
(She tries again, with the result that Sunset ends up in the hall and Trixie rolls up the shade from inside—they have traded places. Two more blasts follow, each triggering another switcheroo; finally Trixie gives up and addresses Sunset from within the room.)
Trixie: (muffled) You know what? Uh, just leave me in here. Just go!
Sunset: I owe you one, Trixie. I will never forget this. (She hurries off.)
Trixie: (muffled, pressing cheek against glass) Never say never!
(Cut to the nearly empty parking lot behind the building. The only occupants are Bon Bon and Lyra talking, the other six Rainbooms gathered around Applejack’s pickup truck as seen in the “Driving Miss Shimmer” short, Flash pulling up in his car, and Wallflower walking across the pavement away from the school. Sunset throws open the nearest set of doors from inside and spots her quarry. The sky is darkening into sundown.)
Sunset: (voice raised) Wallflower?
(A new angle picks out the latter’s slung-up backpack. Sunset begins to close the gap, quails somewhat upon seeing the filthy looks from her six former friends—Fluttershy holding Angel—and then shakes it off. Cut to her target, seen from behind and almost to the edge of the woods.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) Wallflower, stop! (She does so and turns back, dumbstruck, Sunset reaching her.)
Wallflower: You remember my name?
Sunset: I remember everything. The Memory Stone…how I acted…all of it!
Wallflower: What?! How? I erased the whole afternoon!
(Half a dozen popeyed stares fix themselves squarely on her, and a mortified blush tints the freckled green cheeks as she realizes that the jig is well and truly up.)
Sunset: Listen. I used to be just like you. Sure, I was popular, but I was lonely.
Wallflower: You’re nothing like me, and I’m not lonely because I have… (A moment’s sputtering pause.) …plants! (hand to forehead) That sounded less lonely in my head.
Sunset: I’m sorry, Wallflower.
Wallflower: No, you’re not! You’re just trying to look good in front of your friends! (hands to head) And it’s working! (Frustrated yell.) How am I supposed to get back at you if nothing I do matters? I hate you!
(Those three words hit her and every Rainboom like a two-by-four to the head, Sunset drawing a frightened little shudder through her teeth.)
Wallflower: (removing her backpack) I wanted to teach you a lesson by erasing your friends’ good memories of you— (pulling out Stone) —but obviously that didn’t work. (The six spectators stare in mute horror.) But what if I erased all their memories of high school?
Sunset: You can’t! You’d be stealing their memories of each other!
Wallflower: (pacing past her) They’ll think of each other the way you think of me—which is not at all!
(She thrusts the Stone toward them, firing off a beam of lurid green light that lances straight and true through the air.)
Sunset: (racing toward them) NOOOOOO!!
(One desperate leap brings her squarely into the line of fire, and she goes down like a ton of bricks upon taking the hit. The other Rainbooms gasp in unison at the sight of her now-glowing, crackling form.)
Sunset: (with some effort) I ruined their friendship once before. I’d rather give up my own memories than let it happen again!
(As the others continue to watch, the energy surrounding her body fades and a glowing spot appears on her forehead.)
Sunset: Fluttershy!
(A yellow ribbon of memories, marked with copies of the animal lover’s face, is wrenched out of her noggin. She snatches feebly at the air as it is drawn away.)
Sunset: No!
(Into the Stone it goes; next out are Applejack’s orange-tinted thoughts.)
Sunset: Applejack! (A barely-suppressed yell of agony; here comes a white one for…) Rarity!
(Another cry rings out from her throat as both of these sets are vacuumed up. Cut to the horror-stricken reactions of Applejack/Fluttershy/Rainbow; Pinkie joins them very shortly.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) Rainbow Dash! (Back to her; now losing the bright pink memories of…) Pinkie Pie!
(Having fallen to her knees, she glances painfully back toward…)
Sunset: Twilight… (reaching toward her; these violet memories are extracted) …don’t forget me!
(The bespectacled genius can do no more than stare aghast and voice the softest of gasps as the cleanout comes to an end. Sunset is left half-collapsed on the pavement, eyes glassy and nearly closed, while the Stone absorbs her remembrances of Twilight. In due time, the very last of her strength fails her and she crumples bonelessly with a quiet sigh of sheer exhaustion. She manages to lift her head for a bleary squint and rises to all fours, keeping her hands balled into fists much as Princess Twilight did when she first tried to get about in this world. The blue-green eyes pop wide open as a terrible realization sinks in.)
Sunset: This isn’t Canterlot. Where am I? Princess Celestia?
(Wallflower recoils from the newly minted amnesiac, who uncurls one set of fingers and regards them with not a flicker of understanding. The Stone has gone quiet again.)
Sunset: What’s happened to me? Somepony…help me!
(If nothing else, the use of “somepony” clinches it: she has had all recollection of being in this world dragged out of her head. She looks up fearfully at the approaching Twilight.)
Sunset: Who…are you?
(The violet girl smiles gently down at her while Pinkie glares daggers across the lot.)
Twilight: (kneeling, touching Sunset’s shoulder) We’re your friends. (Her face hardens as she shifts her eyes up; each speaker joins them in turn.)
Applejack: We may not remember you…
Pinkie: …but after seeing what you did…
Rarity: …the sacrifice you made for us… (Rainbow steps up with Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: …we’d be proud to call you…
All six: …our friend!
(Six hands pile up on the fallen Sunset’s shoulders; her pendant responds with a flare of light, surprising her and bringing a gasp from Wallflower. The energy lifts the dimensional commuter off her feet, a small copy of her cutie mark fading in on her right cheek. The same happens to Twilight as her pendant kicks in, followed by the screen tiling itself with five vertical panels. Each frames one of the other five from eyes to waist, the magic spreading to fire up their own jewelry; they execute a quarter-turn to their left so their newly emerging marks can be seen in full.)
(Full screen: a pure white silhouette in the shape of Twilight rises into view, deep pink wings and over-skirt flaring out as she ponies up. Full color radiates out from her chest to reveal an outfit quite different from the one her pendant granted in Legend of Everfree. The wings take on their usual light violet, while the over-skirt becomes a glittery, translucent pale blue layer open in front over a darker blue skirt that deepens toward the star-dusted hem. Deep pink tights, belt, wrist bracers with white stars, and hair band topped with a cluster of matching stars; knee-high purple boots with pink stars; sleeveless, high-collared. pale blue top shading to a darker hue at the belt and patterned with her cutie mark; pink band encircling the end of her elongated, braided hair tail. She stands ready for action atop a giant copy of her pendant, and the cutie mark is gone from her face.)
(The others pony up in similar fashion, a few portions manifesting in a dark hue that subsides as the colors come in; glitter is present on various portions of each girl’s outfit. Sunset: sleeveless dress with a sunburst-marked red/pink outer layer over a ruffled, two-layer pink skirt cut high in front; red-pink tights that lighten as they disappear into knee-high yellow boots with a dark red flame pattern running up the sides; form-fitting, dark gray sleeves that run from back of hand to just short of the shoulder; spiked bands on hair and tail. Rainbow: long, red-sleeved blue jersey set with her cloud/lightning-bolt and red/yellow/blue-striped trim; deep purple tights; red/yellow/blue winged boots styled as athletic shoes worn over red/yellow lightning-bolt socks; red/yellow/blue wrist bracers; blue skirt that covers only the back half of the jersey’s hem; hair in a ponytail with a red tail band. Fluttershy: open-fronted blue-green skirt decorated with tiny butterflies at hem over a sleeveless, knee-length purple wrap dress; butterflies at waist and neckline; flowers and butterfly clip in hair; green tail band; butterfly-accented slippers with low stacked heels. Pinkie, leaping happily from her platform: sleeveless, light blue dress marked by a blue sash, blue-violet hem on a puffy knee-length skirt, and a pink/yellow heart containing three pink balloons on the front; yellow gloves; short, yellow-soled, high-heeled boots that have yellow bangles and shade from white to pale pink toward the toes; hair in a ponytail with a blue scrunchie and tail band; light pink streak running down its length. Applejack: blue, short-sleeved work shirt with a red apple at each cuff; long red skirt cut high in front and secured by a brown belt with an apple buckle; short, brown, high-heeled cowboy boots set with red apples; pulling off a hat decorated with more of the same; blue bands tying back hair that has been partly braided. Rarity: knee-length, two-layer blue/purple dress whose skirt is cut high in front and sports a grid of gold embroidery; gold belt to match the bauble on one shoulder strap; three-gen clip on the other; short, deep purple cape streaming from the shoulders; gold bands gathering her hair/tail back and marked by her blue gems; elbow-length purple gloves; gold high heels with matching jeweled shin guards.)
(The freshly super-powered seven float several feet above the parking lot to stare Wallflower down, Applejack donning her hat again.)
Twilight: Wallflower, you have magic you do not understand. But it is nothing compared to the magic of— (Pinkie elbows her aside.)
Pinkie: Yeah, yeah, we get it. LIGHT HER UP, LADIES!!
(Seven vertical panels slide into view from screen top/bottom, each presenting an extreme close-up of one girl’s pendant against a gleaming backdrop of its wearer’s trademark color. A flare of white fills the screen and clears to show them floating even higher, hands joined to form an inverted V with Twilight at the apex. A beam of power shoots forth from each stone, joining to form a broad white beam framed by a multicolored helix that sings through the air and finds its mark in the Stone Wallflower holds. She keeps it in her clenched fingers as long as she possibly can, but the onslaught eventually forces her to let go an instant before it shatters. A small, glowing sphere of brilliant yellow energy floats in its place as she tumbles to her back.)
(The ribbons of stolen memories slither out from the surface and weave among the septet, Wallflower’s eyes wide open and staring from her spot on the blacktop. They return to the craniums of their rightful owners, one after another; once all are back where they belong, Sunset comes down in a crouch a few feet from Wallflower. She massages her temples with a grimace and stands to face the others as they return to earth, the sphere having now dissipated.)
Sunset: (hesitantly, but smiling) Twilight…Sparkle?
Twilight: (smiling) Sunset Shimmer!
(The two fall into a joyful embrace that quickly becomes a full-scale group hug, accompanied by a wealth of ecstatic squeals—the band is back together at last.)
Twilight: We’re so sorry.
Sunset: (voice trembling) I’m just glad to have you all back.
(Worried eyes turn toward the edge of the lot; cut to behind Wallflower, now facing the woods and rubbing her head. Sunset crosses to her.)
Wallflower: (miserably) I’m so ashamed. (She picks up a fragment of the Stone.) When I first found the Memory Stone, I only erased little things—awkward hellos, saying the wrong thing, literally any public speaking. (Bury head in arms; Twilight joins them.)
Twilight: I’ve had plenty of awkward moments I wish I could erase, too.
Wallflower: (lifting head) But it’s no excuse. I was so used to erasing memories that I got completely carried away. I’m sorry for everything.
Sunset: (smiling) It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I may have stopped being mean, but a great and powerful friend helped me realize I still wasn’t very nice to you. Everyone matters, Wallflower— (bending to offer a hand) —no matter how insignificant or invisible they feel.
(With a smile and blush, Wallflower clasps the fingers and allows herself to be pulled into a strong hug by the girl who went home and back again to crack the case. Dissolve to Sunset’s room and tilt down slowly to her on the couch, writing in her journal; she has powered down and changed back into her street clothes.)
Sunset: (voice over, dictating) “Dear Princess Twilight: You can add a new ending to the archives.”
(Cut to the parking lot behind Canterlot High. It is daytime, and she, Applejack, Pinkie, and Rainbow are among the students idling away a few spare minutes; all four are back to their normal selves and outfits. A van backs into a nearby parking space.)
Sunset: (voice over) “The Memory Stone is no more.” (Vice-Principal Luna steps out.)
VP Luna: No student parking in the faculty lot!
(Sunset bites back on a giggle, doubtless remembering the way in which the woman’s equine counterpart misunderstood the nature of the area and inadvertently got it right all at once. All four girls move toward the van; cut to its interior, piled with boxes, as the rear doors are opened. Sunset opens one and brings up a yearbook hot off the press.)
Sunset: (voice over) “Thank you for your help. Give my best to Princess Luna, and of course—”
(Pan slowly across the front lawn, all of whose occupants are enjoying their own copies.)
Sunset: (voice over) “—thank my second-best teacher, Princess Celestia. Make sure she knows you’re kidding when you say that, though.”
(Long shot of her standing at the doors; zoom in slowly.)
Sunset: (voice over) “I’m happy to say everything is back how it used to be.”
(She lets herself in; cut to her walking from the lobby into a hallway. A good-and-angry Trixie strides up behind her, book in hand.)
Trixie: I demand to speak to the yearbook president!
(As she continues, she opens it and presents a page that displays the poster she put up in Act Three.)
Trixie: How did this get in here?
(Close-up of the copy, which she lowers to show a knowing smirk.)
Sunset: (smiling, bowing) A yearbook president never reveals her secrets.
(Trixie shuts hers with a smile, and the two set off down the hall together, having found some common ground at last.)
Sunset: (voice over) “Well, not exactly how it used to be.”
(Dissolve to Wallflower’s garden behind the school. She sets down a small potted bonsai tree, Derpy Hooves and Rose each holding another, and Sunset waves a book toward the group.)
Sunset: I’ve got a yearbook delivery for Best Gardener.
(The happy girl whose thumb is as green as her hair straightens up and accepts it. Her eyes widen upon reaching a particular page; cut to a close-up of it and tilt down slowly. It carries a picture of her at work in the garden and has been signed by every single one of the Rainbooms, cutie marks and all. Wallflower’s cheeks color with a blush as she shuts the cover—the latest inductee into this strange world of magical mayhem and friends who are always there to keep things from going too far sideways—and she and Sunset trade smiles of purest joy.)
(Dissolve to the Rainbooms talking and goofing around at the base of the statue, Fluttershy petting Spike as Twilight flies her drone here and there. Cut to a close-up of another yearbook being quickly leafed through, a few students’ pictures autographed, and stop on a full-page shot of the group in their swimwear on the beach. The camera pans away from this page to frame the facing one—a bare-chested Bulk flexing and kissing one of his namesake muscles. A burst of indignant sputtering from the o.s. Rainbow is heard, and the book is pulled away from the camera in her hand to frame her holding it, a fretful Fluttershy looking on. Like the others, both are back to their normally clothed, non-ponied-up selves.)
Rainbow: Oh, come on! (opening/closing it) Seriously?
(Her Act One fear of being put in next to Best Muscles has come true. Pinkie leans into view to watch her keep opening and shutting the cover as if expecting the book to douse her with toxic waste. “Iris out” to black, centered on the queasy blue face.)
“Invisible” (Extended Version)
Quiet, melancholy melody of reverberating electric guitar and synthesizer
Fast 4 (C major)
Wallflower: You don’t see me fitting in, I’m sitting here alone
Right beside my shadow, always on my own
Light percussion in; intensity slowly builds
If I could share my wildest dreams, maybe they would see
I’m more than just a wallflower, there’s so much more to me
Full percussion in
I’m invisible, invisible, a droplet in the mist
Invisible, invisible, it’s like I don’t exist
Percussion drops back somewhat; backing vocal harmonies in
Wallflower: Right beneath my picture, this is what you’ll read
A laundry list of nothings, not likely to succeed
A yearbook with blank pages that no one wants to sign
A memory forgotten until the end of time
Full percussion in; harmonies out
I’m invisible, invisible, a star fading at dawn
Invisible, invisible, won’t be long before I’m gone
Tempo slows greatly; quiet piano chords only
Wallflower: Won’t be long before I’m gone
Song ends on a chord in A minor
MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS—ROLLERCOASTER OF FRIENDSHIP
Written by Nick Confalone
Produced by Angela Belyea
Story editing by Nick Confalone
Directed by Ishi Rudell
Co-directed by Katrina Hadley
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Notes: The original airing of this special on Discovery Family airing runs 44 minutes.
It was later released in five segments on YouTube; unlike the previous special
“Forgotten Friendship,” though, these releases do not include any deleted scenes
or additional footage. This transcript is therefore based on the Discovery Family
airing.
Each YouTube segment includes a title card, while the Discovery Family airing
does not.
Unless indicated otherwise, all acronyms are spoken one letter at a time.
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to a long overhead shot of an empty amusement park, seen from a short way outside the main entrance during the day. The camera pans slowly across the expanse of rides and attractions as a female voice begins to speak in dramatic fashion.)
Voice: Experience the world like you’ve never seen it before at the one, the only…Equestria Land!
(On these last two words, cut to a mechanized float as it rolls out of a hangar. Standing atop it are four women of varied skin and hair colors, waving/gesturing around themselves to a nonexistent crowd. They are clad in gray bodysuits and large white cardboard cutouts in assorted geometric shapes: triangle, circle, two squares—one larger than the other. The voice’s next words are delivered in the tone of an exasperated movie director.)
Voice: Stop! Cut!
(The float comes to an abrupt halt, nearly jarring the riders off its edge, and the camera pans slightly to frame the speaker, Vignette Valencia, standing directly in front of it. Her back is turned for the moment, exposing a long, sleeveless brown smock over a strapless white top with blue trim and separate short sleeves covering the upper arms. Light yellow skin with a tinge of tan; short, wavy pink hair shot through with white streaks and fading nearly to white at the ends; a patterned brown headband with a cluster of leaves and berries above each ear.)
Vignette: Cut!
(She turns to the camera and puts a hand to her forehead. The smock hangs open in front to show blue-green shorts and a belt buckle styled as a brown leaf, and a pale pink, square-cut gem is mounted on a cord choker at her throat. The brown-shadowed eyes over the pink-tinted lips are pale blue, with a beauty mark below the outer corner of the right one.)
Vignette: (addressing herself o.s.) Why is everyone dressed like they’re not dressed?
(The camera angle changes to frame the object of her ire—a violet-skinned older woman whose piled-high hair displays two darker shades and is parted down the middle. Her long-sleeved coat is done in white and gray with gold trim and shoulder pads, a pink cape hanging down the back, and a high collar styled as a set of wings. The eyes are hidden behind opaque black sunglasses, and she speaks with a heavy Russian accent while stepping closer and folding her arms. This is the costume designer.)
Designer: Because you keep changing your mind about the costumes, Vignette Valencia.
(Longer shot, framing both in full for the first time. Vignette wears ankle-length brown boots, and her smock bears a purple fringe and a small leaf/berry pin on one lapel. The designer’s coat hem reaches down past the tops of her knee-high purple boots with platform soles.)
Vignette: (pulling out a cell phone) Do you know what it means to be in charge of public relations for this park? (pacing) It’s my job to make sure the world knows how amazing Equestria Land is gonna be. And in two weeks, when there’s fifty thousand people here for opening day, the last thing they’ll see before they leave at night will be this light parade— (turning to designer) —and by extension, your costumes, which apparently do not exist as of this moment.
(A few more steps bring her into the older woman’s personal space as a self-assured smile crosses her lips.)
Vignette: BYBB. (snapping pictures of herself.) “Be Yourself, but Better.” Do you even have a philosophy?
Designer: (counting on fingers) GWIQ. “Guess What? I Quit.”
(She strides away, leaving Vignette to utter a shuddery moan followed by a long inhalation to compose herself.)
Vignette: (snapping fingers) I NEED A STRESS SALAD!!
(As she seats herself at a nearby umbrella-shaded table, one of the four float riders darts away and swiftly delivers one, plying a pepper grinder over the bowl on the next line.)
Vignette: Where am I gonna find a new costume designer for the light parade with only two weeks left? (The rider opens her mouth to speak; Vignette puts a hand over it.) I’m not promoting you.
(The rider departs, her burst of optimism instantly quenched, as Vignette sets her phone down and regards the salad with a deflated sigh. Cut to her perspective of it, poking listlessly at the greens with her fork and impaling a bite.)
Vignette: If only I could put a filter on real life to make everything the way I want it.
(Back to her on the end of this; she eats the forkful, not noticing a wisp of deep purple magic that snakes into view through the air and zeroes in on the phone. It washes over the device, turning the smiling-face sticker on its case into one with a much less hospitable expression.)
Vignette: (brightly, picking it up) Only way to feel better is getting ten thousand likes with a perfect salad pic.
(It is aimed, the screen is tapped—and the entire bowl commits a minor breach of dining etiquette by turning monochrome and disappearing from the outside in. Nothing is left but a few rapidly dissipating motes of light, and she lowers the phone to confirm that her meal has indeed vacated the premises. After a moment of boggling at the now-empty table and glancing in vain around herself for any sign of a perpetrator, she looks quickly through a couple of past salad pictures.)
Vignette: Hey! Did somebody install a new app on my phone?
(Another touch at the screen causes it to project a translucent, low-resolution hologram of the last salad she brought up, this one composed entirely of fruit.)
Vignette: Oh!
(A tentative poke at the “food” causes the entire image to flicker with static for a moment.)
Vignette: (smiling cunningly) ’Cause I like it.
(Dissolve to an intersection in Canterlot city proper, zooming in slowly on the large building that occupies one corner, then cut to its interior—the Canterlot Mall. The camera pans across the busy food court, Applejack carrying a drink over to a table at which Rarity is seated and eyeing her phone worriedly. The farm girl takes a seat; cut to a close-up of both.)
Rarity: Anything? (Applejack pulls out hers and checks it.)
Applejack: Nothin’. (On the table it goes.) You? (The rest of the Rainbooms gather around.)
Rarity: (shaking head sadly) Uh-uh.
Pinkie Pie: Somebody has un-spilled beans at this table and it’s not me, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Twilight Sparkle, or Sunset Shimmer.
(The camera pans away from her to each pair of girls in turn as she mentions them. By the time Applejack speaks next, all but Pinkie have seated themselves around the table.)
Applejack: Rarity and I applied for summer jobs at the new theme park.
Pinkie: (squatting down to them) Equestria Land? Wait. Will you get to go there for free?
Applejack: Actually, they’d pay us to go there.
(The party planner shoots to her feet and claps hands to cheeks with an inarticulate babble of undiluted joy. Rarity has now laid her phone down as well.)
Applejack: (raising her cup) We applied to work side by side as caramel apple girls. (Pinkie takes it…)
Rarity: (sighing) Yes. (…and drinks, squatting to table level.) It’s not that I’m nervous, but…Applejack, you’re perfect for the job, and, well, my résumé is…less apple-centric.
Applejack: (chuckling) We’ll be together. I got a good feeling.
(The fashionista’s nerves quickly get the better of her, prompting her to snatch up her phone and scrutinize it closely. There follows a soft grunt of disappointment.)
Rarity: No missed calls while we were talking about caramel apples. Shall we practice answering our phone and sounding calm?
(Both devices sound off in unison, setting off a double yell of surprise and sending Rarity up to her feet. Pinkie, between the two, regards them incuriously over the mouthful she has sucked up from Applejack’s drink.)
Sunset: That was about as calm as Pinkie Pie on cake day. (Pinkie whips over to her in a tizzy.)
Pinkie: Was it today? Did I miss it?!?
(A raised yellow-orange finger calms her down, and the owner of said finger smirks in Fluttershy’s general direction as Pinkie takes a worried pull.)
Rarity: (sitting down) One new email!
Applejack: It’s from the park!
Applejack, Rarity: You open yours first! (Pause.) No, you open yours first! (Both laugh.)
Applejack: Okay, okay. Same time. One, two— (Rarity taps her screen.)
Rarity: Too late. I opened mine.
(Her giddy squeal ends abruptly as if slashed off with a knife, her face falling once she gets a good eyeful of the message.)
Rarity: Oh. They said I’m overqualified for caramel apple girl. (Deep gasp; her mood quickly brightens.) They want me to be lead parade costume designer!
(Varied reactions of surprise and delight from all others save Applejack. Pinkie has balanced the drink cup at a thoroughly improbable angle on top of her head.)
Twilight Sparkle: You haven’t even started and you already got promoted!
Rainbow Dash: That’s gotta be a record.
Applejack: (crestfallen) I didn’t get the job. (smiling) But I’m really happy for you, Rarity.
Rarity: Oh, pffft! There must be a mix-up, darling.
Pinkie: (touching Applejack’s shoulder) Obviously the Internet mailman gave you the wrong letter. (Twilight starts to object, but halts at the next words.) I know that’s not how it works, but I’m trying to cheer you up.
Twilight: (adjusting glasses) Technically, Rarity didn’t get the job either, since she got a different job. So they’re probably about to send you another email with your promotion.
(The phone resting in front of Applejack chooses this moment to assert itself, and she seizes it with a gasp while standing up. A glance at the screen leads into a full-body slump of defeat in close-up.)
Applejack: (sitting, groaning) Just a sale at Stinky Bottom’s Discount Hat Emporium. (Rainbow slides across to peek over her shoulder.)
Rainbow: (coaxingly) Forty percent off! (Applejack shoots her a dirty look; she backs off.) Oh, sorry. Not helping.
(A bit of super speed carries her away from this side of the table; cut to Rarity on the start of the next line.)
Rarity: (nervously) Well, I-I’m not going to accept it without you, obviously. Pfft! (Grin.)
Applejack: What!? You cannot let this opportunity pass you by, Rarity. Think of all those vision boards! The late-night sewing! This has been your dream since…since kindy-garten! (Rarity swallows audibly.)
Rarity: Preschool, actually. But that’s not the point. My mind is made up. We planned to spend the summer together, and…that’s what we’re going to do. (grinning tentatively) Riiiiight?
(Her slow, hopeful blinks have absolutely no effect on her opposite number’s steeled resolve.)
Applejack: You’re takin’ the job, and that’s final.
Rarity: (hastily) Okay, if you insist! (Ecstatic squeal.) I’m gonna be a costume designer!
(Six of seven voices take part in a burst of jubilation, after which the rejected job hunter musters up a weak chuckle.)
Applejack: All right. (to Sunset) I probably shouldn’t have quit my old job this mornin’, huh?
Sunset: I’m sure they haven’t replaced you already.
(Cut to the juice/smoothie kiosk at which Applejack worked in the “Shake Things Up!” short. On duty behind the counter is Bulk Biceps, wearing a male version of her work outfit complete with hairnet and magenta bow tie. As Derpy Hooves and Octavia look over the wares, he turns to the row of blenders and scratches his head over them for a moment until a brainstorm strikes. He lifts a partly filled pitcher off its base, shakes it vigorously, and is rewarded with the top popping off to drench him in the now-liquefied contents. Back to Applejack and Sunset, a look of great trepidation passing between both pairs of eyes.)
Sunset: Eh…
(Dissolve to a welcome plaza inside the front entrance of Equestria Land, where Rarity and Vignette are standing near a column painted in pink/yellow/green barber-pole stripes and dotted with yellow stars. The teen clutches a sketchbook expectantly, while the public-relations ace has a file folder in hand. Sweeping and carrying tasks go on around them as Vignette addresses Rarity in a most chipper tone of voice.)
Vignette: My name is Vignette Valencia. (leading Rarity away) And to answer your first question—yes, I’m that Vignette, but no, I do not think I’m better than you just because I have three million followers on Snapgab. (Rarity, having fallen behind, scrambles to catch up as she finishes.)
Rarity: (sighing, surprised) You’re up to three million now? (composing herself) I mean…yes, uh, yes, I-I am familiar with your online repertoire.
Vignette: I have a good feeling about you, Rare. Oh, you have to let me call you Rare. It’s the perfect name for Lead Parade Costume Designer.
(She extends a palm in front of herself and swings it in a slow arc to point up these last four words.)
Vignette: (contemptuously, skimming folder contents) Not a, um, caramel apple girl. (closing it) I don’t even know why you applied for a job like that. (smiling, pulling out phone) Not with a Snapgab feed like yours.
Rarity: Oh!
(The two approach the hangar from which the float rolled out at the start of this act. It has been removed, and the nearby table has been cordoned off with black/yellow-striped velvet ropes strung between posts.)
Vignette: Obviously I looked you up. Great pictures, by the way. That gingham and linen sundress caught my eye, and your follower count is im-pres-seeve— (Rarity blushes.) —for someone just starting out, of course. (turning Rarity’s chin to face her) But I can already tell you’ve got magique inside.
(Rarity’s breath catches in her throat for a split second.)
Rarity: Magi—you can?
Vignette: The light parade is the most important event in the park. Over a hundred cast members— (pointing at her) —and you are going to make them look perfect.
(The new employee lets out a shaky, enraptured little sigh.)
Vignette: (leading her past the table) Oh, and before I forget— (suddenly no-nonsense) —don’t put anything on that table, especially your phone. (casually, walking off alone) No reason, just a super-important rule I made up, ’kay?
(With a gleeful nod, Rarity hustles to catch up. Wipe to the barn at Sweet Apple Acres and zoom in, the main doors swung wide open so the sound of mingled grunts and squishes can drift out unobstructed. A close-up inside frames Applejack from the waist up, dressed in the work clothes she sported for her cleaning chores in the “Five to Nine” short. Spurts of muck fly up from below as she stomps with gusto, but the ringing of her phone brings a halt to the activity as she pulls it out and answers, a smile crossing her face.)
Applejack: Rarity!
(A vertical panel containing the caller slides in from the left to establish a split-screen view; she is seated at a sewing machine. During the next line, she switches the phone to speaker mode and rests it on the table.)
Rarity: Applejack! Darling! How is work on the farm? (Both resume their respective tasks.)
Applejack: (between grunts/stomps) Fantastic! I could not be happier makin’ foot-stompin’ applesauce the old-fashioned way with my family.
(On the end of this line, the camera cuts fully to the interior of the barn. She, Big Macintosh, and Apple Bloom are all standing in a large wooden tub whose sides reach nearly to their knees, and all six feet are bare and engaged in the process of crushing apple to pulp. Granny Smith relaxes with a book in a nearby chair.)
Granny: Less chatter, more splatter! (Split screen.)
Rarity: Oh, good! I’m so happy for you.
Applejack: And I’m happy for you and your new job, too.
(Both faces fall on this last, after which the camera cuts to Rarity and the yards of cloth spilling over her table. She is working in a curtained-off area shared by a small dresser, a full-length mirror, and a couple of small rugs on the floor.)
Rarity: (laughing nervously) Oh, yes, well…certainly a big job!
(As she finishes, another Equestria Land employee darts in to drop another bolt at her feet and the camera zooms out. She is one of five people in this design shop, which is dominated by the long rolls of fabric mounted on the back wall and the large worktable in the center of the floor. The other four scramble back and forth, bringing her yet more material, before the view returns to Applejack.)
Applejack: I’m sure you won’t slip up. (She slips and nearly falls.) Whoa!
Rarity: (over phone) Uh, well— (Back to her, phone to ear again.) —uh, I-I was calling because, you see— (giggling, slightly unhinged for a moment) —well, it s not that I’m nervous or anything silly like that, but I…I-I was wondering if…if you and the girls wanted to come on opening night to see the parade. VIP passes. You can cut the lines. (Applejack’s panel slides in from the right to split the screen.)
Applejack: You bet your britches, missy! I wouldn’t miss your big night for the world!
(As her feet slide out from under her, she has just enough time for one panicked squawk before dropping out of sight. The phone squirts out of her hand and goes down after her, a pained groan floating back up.)
Rarity: (puzzled) Applejack?
(Full view of the barn: the disgruntled blonde has fetched up at the edge of the tub, one arm and thoroughly besmirched leg hanging over the side. Bloom stifles a giggle as Macintosh allows himself an amused smile.)
Rarity: (over phone) Darling? Hel-loooo?
(Not missing a page, Granny picks up a towel from the floor and tosses it for Applejack to catch. Dissolve to a stretch of multicolored roller coaster track in the park, styled similarly to the Wild Blue Yonder coaster that figured prominently in “Grannies Gone Wild.” A trainload of screaming riders hurtles out of a tunnel bored through an artificial cloud and down a hill, the camera tilts down to frame Indigo Zap and a boy sharing a laugh at ground level. From here, cut to a slow tilt up along the height of a Ferris wheel whose cars are styled as hot-air balloons, then cut to a haunted house as thunder rips the air and lightning flashes emanate from all the windows. Bon Bon, Lyra Heartstrings, and Trixie are quick to flee the building in a screaming panic, a deep and malicious chuckle hanging in the air, after which the view shifts to a slow pan across the welcome plaza. Sunny Flare and a friend are hanging out at one side, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon near the barber-pole column, and the six Rainbooms not working at Equestria Land make their way in. Applejack has cleaned up and changed into her usual outfit, and Pinkie is no longer wearing the drink cup from the Canterlot Mall food court on her head.)
Pinkie: Equestria Land opening day! What should we do first? (to Applejack/Sunset) Appleloosa Wild West Stunt Show? (grabbing Fluttershy) Nightmare Moon’s Haunted Castle? (hanging upside down near Twilight and Rainbow) Sugarcube Everything?!? (The two shrug helplessly as she hoists herself out of sight; cut to Applejack.)
Applejack: Now hang on. (The others gather around, Pinkie holding cotton candy.) I got the sense Rarity’s overwhelmed, which is understandable. I mean, she’s all alone here without any of her friends— (under her breath) —which is why I wouldn’t have taken the job, but that’s just me.
Pinkie: (under end of previous, taking a bite) Mmm!
Applejack: (aloud) Uh, point is, we’re here to support Rarity.
(Any further deliberations are put on hold by the running passage of three squealing girls, who fall in with a chattering group that has clustered around Vignette when the camera cuts to her. Photo Finish is among them, raising her camera to get a picture of the group.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) What?
(Back to her and Pinkie, who is finishing off her treat and digging her phone out.)
Applejack: Uh, which character’s that? (Snap a photo.)
Pinkie: Ah, that’s not a character, silly. That’s Vignette Valencia. (The group, making silly faces, and back as she continues.) She’s famous on Snapgab, which you’d know if you actually logged in once in a while.
(Pinkie passes her phone to Applejack.)
Pinkie: You’re missing my “One Cupcake Every Day” series. (She slumps dejectedly on her feet.)
Fluttershy: She posts a lot of pictures of her Welsh corgi named Yas Queen.
Rainbow: And she’s friends with, like, every awesome athlete in the world!
(She and Applejack shift their attention to Twilight, who starts in surprise at their pointed looks.)
Twilight: Don’t look at me! I only follow bots that post interesting science facts.
Applejack: (puzzled, looking at Pinkie’s phone) These are her pictures? (reading) “Chillin’ Sandy Style”?
(Her perspective of the screen: a swimsuit-clad Vignette taking a “selfie” photo on the beach. Buried up to her armpits in sand, she is flashing a peace sign with her free hand and puckering her lips playfully.)
Applejack: “You Know How I Do”?
(Back to her, Pinkie and Rainbow shifting a bit closer for a better view of the display.)
Applejack: “I Came, I Saw, I Vintaged”?
(The screen again on the end of this; now Vignette is back in her street clothes, sitting on a bench, and getting an overhead angle of herself holding a tennis racquet. The camera then returns to the three girls; Applejack’s confusion only grows as Pinkie and Rainbow trade a smiling nod behind her.)
Applejack: Okay, somebody tell me why this picture has twenty thousand likes?
(The screen again, displaying a video clip in which Vignette lies on a bed, her smock gone and with a shock of hair swept forward to cover one eye. She is on her back and aiming the camera straight down at herself.)
Vignette: (seductively) Hashtag “bangs.”
(The index finger of her free hand runs over teeth and lips in a come-hither gesture, after which the view returns to the group.)
Applejack: (uneasily) Uh, I don’t know. Spendin’ all that time just to look good in a picture ain’t my idea of fun.
Rarity: (from o.s., brightly) There you are! (She strolls across the plaza toward them on the end of this.)
Applejack: Here comes the lead parade costume designer! (The two embrace.)
Rarity: Guilty as charged. (She voices an airy giggle as they pull apart; Applejack has returned Pinkie’s phone.)
Applejack: So…you’ve been here solo without your best friends all this time. How can we help?
Rarity: Hold that thought.
(Zoom out slightly to put Vignette in the fore a short distance away, her admirers having dispersed.)
Rarity: (calling/waving to her) Vignette! Over here! (She turns to them.)
Applejack: (incredulously) You know Vignette Valencia?
Rarity: Pfft. Do I know her?
(She finishes the thought by trading kisses on both cheeks with her new boss.)
Rarity: Why, she’s my best friend at the park. (Applejack gasps sharply.)
Vignette: Selfie! (to Rarity) Oh, but can we use your phone? Mine’s been acting super-weird lately. (It is brought out and aimed.) Thanks. You’re the best.
(She throws a peace sign as Rarity puckers up; once the camera clicks, the view shifts to point between their shoulders toward Applejack, whose face is covered by the raised phone. Rarity lowers it and trades beaming smiles with Vignette, neither of them noticing the openmouthed expression of unadulterated shock that has settled on Applejack’s face. Zoom in slightly as the green eyes flick fearfully from side to side and shift into an indignant, cross-armed glower, then snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of the seething, softly growling blonde.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) Everyone!
(Longer shot of all eight; Rarity has put her phone away and Vignette has hers out.)
Rarity: This is Vignette Valencia. She runs PR for the park, and she’s my boss.
Vignette: I told you not to use the B-word. I’m your friend…who gets to boss you around.
(The pale teen forces up a giggle and motions for her friends to follow suit; all but Applejack and Pinkie do so, the latter having real trouble making sense of what Vignette has just said. Cut to Applejack and Fluttershy.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) I don’t get it.
Rarity: (backing toward others, pointing them out) Heh…so this is Sunset Shimmer, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, and Fluttershy.
(Each offers a silent greeting in turn, but Fluttershy’s face registers concern as Rarity steps in front of Applejack at the far end of the line, blocking her from view. The last girl leans out from behind, loudly clearing her throat and surprising Rarity.)
Rarity: (stepping aside, laughing) Oh! And Applejack. (to her, badly flustered) Sorry, you were standing around, um—I-I-I didn’t see you.
(Over the end of this, Vignette shifts her interest from the girls to her phone.)
Vignette: (to herself) Hmmm…
Rarity: They’re my best friends. So…I thought you’d like to meet them.
Vignette: (not paying attention) Mmm-hmm.
Rarity: (trying to play it off) Uh…fun fact. Uh, we perform together in a band called the Rainbooms. (Fluttershy nods and offers a blushing smile; now Vignette looks their way, curiosity piqued.)
Vignette: Rainbooms? Why is that familiar? (checking phone, with growing excitement) A hundred thousand followers? Focused consumer-centric demographic, too? (A soft gasp.) Does your curated content consistently aggregate across multiple platforms?
(A very long and very tense silence follows this string of inquiries.)
Pinkie: (slowly and clearly) We sing songs together!
(One last glance at the screen, and Vignette draws in a louder, happy gasp.)
Vignette: I am going to turn you into the centerpiece of tonight’s light parade! (General confusion greets her statement.)
Rainbow: Uh, the Rainbooms? (Vignette whisks over to put a finger to her lips.)
Vignette: Shhhh. Are you ready? (gesturing with phone in other hand.) BYBB. “Be Yourself, but Better!” (sighing, circling around girls) That’s been my power phrase since I started my first company— (pulling Applejack/Fluttershy in closer; phone in pocket) —a middle-school girl selling artisanal handmade mascara. (semi-baby talk) “But isn’t that just melted crayons?” (airily, turning to face group) Heeey, naysayers gonna nay. But I say “BYBB.”
Fluttershy: Um, how many people will be watching us?
Vignette: All of them. What do you say? (Big grin; cut to Sunset’s end of the line.)
Sunset: Well, if it’s gonna help out Rarity…
(Applejack is the only one not to speak up immediately as the camera pans to her end in time with the others’ noises of agreement. Her only contribution is a skeptical scoff once they have gone silent. Vignette steps toward them, tapping her phone’s screen; the camera shifts to and from a close-up of it on the next line as she scrolls through profile information for all but Applejack.)
Vignette: Like, like, like, like, like, like. Upload and post it, ladies. (Valley Girl accent, with a wink and index-finger gun) This’ll trend for sure!
(Cut to an ecstatic Rarity standing ahead of a ticked-off Applejack.)
Vignette: (from o.s., normal voice) I’ll “at” you later with exact deets. (All eight; she pats Rarity’s shoulder.) BYBB, Rare. (walking off) V out.
(“Deets” = details. A blush paints a deep red tint onto the white cheeks as Rarity turns to the others.)
Rarity: (voice quivering slightly) I know! She’s amazing, right?
Applejack: (sourly) She sure is…somethin’.
Twilight: Logistical question. How are we supposed to get our instruments? (Cut to Rarity, who dismisses it with a sputter.)
Rarity: Vignette will handle everything. (Applejack’s hand rises into view.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) I got a question too. (Cut to her.) When you said she’s your best friend at the park, did you mean “best friend, comma, at the park”?
(She adds quotation marks with her fingers on the first “best friend.”)
Rarity: (surprised) Did I say that? (Gasp and smile.) Listen! Tonight’s a huge opportunity—and not just for me now, but for all of us! (Cut to the other six as she finishes.)
Rainbow: Let’s go see the park!
(As Twilight/Sunset and Fluttershy/Pinkie start to discuss their respective plans of attack and the latter two consult a map Pinkie digs out of her hair, Rainbow blurs away and back to join them. A scowl settles onto Rarity’s face as she crosses to a put-out Applejack and pats one T-shirted shoulder.)
Rarity: Honestly, I don’t know why you’re giving me your frowny eyebrows.
Applejack: (sighing, turning face away) It’s nothin’.
Rarity: (nervously, stroking hair) Uh…well, uh… (smiling) …enjoy the park!
(She paces away from the others, phone in hand.)
Rarity: I’m going to be super-busy preparing for tonight. So, let’s meet in the staging area for sound check and run-throughs. (Pocket it.) I have three minutes’ break at four o’clock and I can give you two of them. (Show two fingers.) BYBB! (Laugh; hurry away with a thumbs-up.) Rare out!
(Applejack reacts to this minor torrent of verbiage with a huffy sigh before Rainbow sidles up to her.)
Rainbow: Weeell…looks like Rarity doesn’t need us as much as you thought. Sooo…? (Pinkie tucks her map back into her hair.)
Fluttershy: Should we practice for the parade? It’s a little… (scared) …daunting, isn’t it? (Rainbow whips over to put arms around her shoulders and Pinkie’s.)
Rainbow: We know every song by heart. Wouldn’t you rather go have some fun?
Pinkie, Rainbow: Yeah!
Twilight: Great idea!
[Animation goof: Rainbow’s mouth does not move on this last.]
(Five jolly teens disperse from the plaza, leaving their blond classmate to stew quietly where she stands; after a long moment, she plods off after them. Dissolve to a close-up of a stretch of roller coaster track as a train barrels past, then cut to a longer shot of it emerging from a cloud tunnel to accelerate down a hill. A longer shot picks out more of the turns and loops that the joyfully screaming passengers are seeing up close and personal, but a tilt down to ground level frames a softly moaning, shivering, scared-out-of her-wits Fluttershy from behind. The camera shifts to frame her and Rainbow watching the ride—the animal lover holding an unfolded map, the jock drinking a soda. Fluttershy’s fear evolves into a whimper and a huddle behind the paper as Rainbow keeps two eager red-violet eyes trained on the elevated attraction. The commotion forces both of them to raise their voices.)
Rainbow: PRETTY GREAT, RIGHT? (A little yelp from Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: WHAAAT?
Rainbow: CAN YOU HEAR ME OVER ALL THE SCREAMING?
Fluttershy: I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER ALL THE SCREAMING!
(She moans and lifts the map to keep herself from seeing the midair mayhem as Rainbow grins at the prospect of being able to experience it for herself. By the time she lowers it, the noise level has abated sufficiently to allow normal speech.)
Fluttershy: I wish I’d gone with Sunset and Twilight, or Pinkie Pie, or…anyone else in the entire park.
Rainbow: Look at it this way. It’s the perfect opportunity to conquer your fear. (A train brakes to a stop at the loading platform.)
Fluttershy: (checking map) Can’t I conquer something a little smaller first? (Rainbow leans over to her.)
Rainbow: Hey, good idea! A warm-up before the big game! (eagerly, reading over her shoulder) Ooh, what did you have in mind?
(Close-up of the paper, the camera shifting from one location to the next as she names them.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Dragon Lands Drag Racing? Ooh, the Appleloosa Runaway Train! Ooh! Neighagara Falls Barrel Flume?
(Back to her and Fluttershy on the end of this line.)
Fluttershy: (shaking head) Mmm-mmm.
(A big grin splits the yellow face as she brings her finger to rest on a particular spot and the camera zooms in to a close-up. All too soon, though, her features shift into a look of wide-eyed terror, the background dissolving behind her to a new location; she is slowly rising up above the earth, and a scream tears its way out of her throat in due time. The camera zooms out quickly to show her and Rainbow riding side by side in the last car of a dragon-themed coaster whose other seats are occupied entirely by small children. She has put her map away and is hyperventilating to beat the band as the train eases its way over the top of a gentle hill, while Rainbow has ditched her soda and is steaming silently over having to get on a ride so completely free of thrills. Cut to the happy kids in the car ahead of them, and pan back to Fluttershy/Rainbow on the start of the next line.)
Fluttershy: Oh, these kids are so brave.
(Rainbow claps a hand to her face with a disgusted little groan. Dissolve to an overhead shot of the interior of one of the park’s workshop hangars, where a crew is building the base of a float. Applejack and Rainbow cross the floor toward it as the camera pans to them; in close-up, Applejack proves to be in a decent mood now as props and materials are carried back and forth.)
Rarity: Applejack, this parade is a living, breathing dance of light and sound.
(Three employees approach, carrying a feathered hat, bolt of fabric, and shirt.)
Rarity: (to each in order) Love it, lock it, stitch it.
(They clear out. Before she can address Applejack again, she is presented with four more items: the shirt, a pair of high-heeled shoes, a drawing of them and the previous hat juxtaposed with a pink-frosted donut, and the fabric.)
Rarity: (ditto) Beautiful…perfect…I just threw up…love it! (as they race off) Now hurry up! I need these done yesterday!
Applejack: You were born for this, Rarity. Anythin’ I can do to help?
Rarity: (touching Applejack’s shoulder) Play a great show tonight?
(Reassurance turns to rancor in the time it takes her to shift her gaze across the work area.)
Rarity: Excuse me! I know I am not seeing a lapped zipper on that faux fur!
(The object of her outburst proves to be an employee dressed in a full-body outfit styled as the natural Siren form of Adagio Dazzle, as seen in Rainbow Rocks and “Shadow Play.”However, the head fins are purple rather than the expected yellow-orange. A zipper runs down one side of the underbelly, stopping just above two protruding legs dressed in sweat pants and slippers to match the costume’s color scheme. The wearer throws a surprised glance to Rarity, then lets the head hang in shame.)
Rarity: A lapped zipper is simply a stuck zipper waiting to happen! (Groan; address Applejack.) This is what I’m up against. (She walks off.)
Applejack: (thumbing toward door) So, uh…want to take a break and go get a caramel apple?
(Across the floor, the designer is going over assorted details with scurrying employees.)
Rarity: (distractedly) I’d love to, darling, but I am a tad super-insanely busy. (Weak chuckle.)
Applejack: Of course. I-I just thought, uh…never mind. You’re right. I wouldn’t want to rain on your parade.
(This last puts a fright into Rarity.)
Rarity: Rain! I didn’t plan for rain! (shaking nearest employee’s shoulder) GET ME ONE HUNDRED PONCHOS, STAT!!
(The two dart off in opposite directions, leaving several puzzled coworkers and a downcast Applejack in their wake. Dissolve to a long shot of the big coaster as a train trundles its way toward the peak of the first hill. Even from this distance, the heads of pink and multicolored hair in the first car give away the presence of Fluttershy and Rainbow; cut to them—one scared stiff, one fully at ease.)
Rainbow: I’m proud of you. (patting Fluttershy’s shoulder; she grimaces mightily) You know that? You’re facing your fears head-on, just like I always did as a kid. (Fluttershy huddles into herself; Rainbow looks over the side.) I mean, look.
(On the start of the next line, cut to her perspective of the steadily receding ground.)
Rainbow: A four-hundred-foot vertical drop right into these loop-de-loops and a corkscrew?
(Back to her, a seed of real apprehension planting itself in her mind and causing her to sit all the way back in her seat.)
Rainbow: (forcing a grin) You’re probably super-nervous about that, I bet. Heh. (Close-up of the climbing wheels; she continues o.s.) And that next part where it goes backwards? (The pair again; now Fluttershy is trying not to vomit over the both of them.) Uh, how are you feeling, Fluttershy?
(Up and up they go toward the summit—now they are high enough to match the altitude of a passing seagull, the sight of which unhinges Rainbow even more.)
Rainbow: Is it even safe to be this high up? (Cut to Fluttershy; she continues o.s.) You’re probably thinking— (Long shot of the train.) —“Stop the ride! I want to get off!” (Cut to the pair, now at the top.) That’s what you want, right? Right now? You’re about to yell it? (completely freaked out) Stop the ride! Seriously! Please, somebody stop the ride! STOP THE RIIIIDE!!
(But her frantic entreaties have no effect once gravity takes hold and the train plunges down its track. Cut to the loading platform, where it pulls in to a stop and the two girls’ mindsets have completely reversed—a bright grin on Fluttershy’s face, brain-locked panic and terror on Rainbow’s. The erstwhile daredevil remains rooted to her seat as all the other passengers climb out, and it takes a bit of assistance from a ride attendant to coax her up to the platform. She groans weakly and follows Fluttershy out on legs that might be full of Zap Apple jam for all the wobbling that has set in.)
Fluttershy: That was actually kind of…fun! (Giggle.)
Rainbow: (forced casual tone) Totally! That’s why I didn’t want to get off. I was just seeing what you would have said. Heh. (Cut to Fluttershy; she continues o.s.) That’s all.
(The timid teen offers a gentle smile and a pat on the shoulder.)
Fluttershy: You were very brave.
Rainbow: (blushing) Heh…you too, by the way.
(The reassurance has not quite made it from ear to brain to muscles, if her jittery steps and face-first tumble to the ground are any indication. Fluttershy just giggles softly to herself at this very strange reversal of fortune, but is interrupted by the ringing of her phone; she pulls it out and studies the screen with a degree of bafflement.)
Fluttershy: Hmmm…
(Dissolve to a slow pan through an open area lined with circus tents. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, poring over a map and sharing cotton candy, are among the park-goers here; Bloom has cleaned up and put on her boots following the applesauce-making session in Act One. Applejack ambles past with a copy of her own, grumbling to herself and turning it this way and that to try and get her bearings; finally she gives up and crumples it into a ball. As she tucks it away behind her back, a familiar, geeky male voice cuts in to her surprise.)
Micro Chips: (from o.s., calling out) Apples!
(The visitors immediately ahead of Applejack part to give a clear view of a snack stand at which the techie is selling…)
Micro: Caramel apples over here! We got red and green and everything in between!
(His clothing has changed noticeably from past appearances. Light green shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a pattern of red apples; red bow tie; green pants and suspenders.)
Applejack: (crossing to him) Micro Chips?
Micro: (offering an apple on a stick) Caramel apple?
Applejack: Uh…Applejack. You’re who they hired to be the caramel apple…girl?
Micro: Vignette said she wanted cool nerd chic. I’d say she found it, wouldn’t you?
(He casually dips the fruit into a waiting tub of melted caramel and pulls it out, only to find that a semi-solidified runnel of the brown stuff has no intention of letting it go without a fight. A sustained pull snaps it loose, but he stumbles backward and into a rack of other caramel apples, leaving one stuck to his sleeve.)
Micro: Ow.
(Cut to Applejack, who cringes at the sound of a protracted series of grunts and yelps and squishes from Micro’s general direction, then back to him. The hapless hawker has ended up with a good half-dozen apples stuck all over his head and upper body, the one that started the whole mess still in one hand, and liberal applications of runaway caramel spattering his head and trapping his arms at most uncomfortable angles.)
Micro: (clearing throat, trying to pull free) Do you by any chance have a knife, or samurai sword, or several tiny but very sharp nail clippers?
(Cut to Applejack, too stunned by this display of fruit-based incompetence to do more than stare at him as Fluttershy and Vignette pass behind her, both having stowed their phones. A few indistinct words are heard from the budding media mogul—she evidently called Fluttershy to set up a meeting—and Applejack begins to pivot toward them as the o.s. Micro pulls one apple into view toward her with a grunt. From here, cut to Fluttershy and Vignette walking past the entrance to a candy-themed attraction.)
Vignette: I know what you’re thinking. (dramatically) “But, Vignette, how can I ever thank you for coming up with such a brilliant idea for the parade?”
Fluttershy: Uh, I don’t understand. You want me to pretend I’m someone else tonight? (Both stop.)
Vignette: (arm across Fluttershy’s shoulders, cupping her cheeks) Everyone in the band has a new role. It’s part of my bold new vision. All caps, Helvetica sixty-five. Fluttershy—bad girl.
(Cut to Fluttershy, who reacts to this pronouncement with great worry, then back on the next line, Vignette now checking her phone.)
Vignette: Spiked hair, ripped tights, I’ve already commissioned an A-list graffiti-slash-sneaker artist to tag up a custom guitar. How do you feel about skulls?
(The yellow girl’s mental machinery grinds to a smoking halt.)
Vignette: (over-enunciating every letter) BYBB.
Fluttershy: Uh, maybe I, um… (backing off a step) …shouldn’t do it. (whispering) At all.
(Vignette shoots her a quizzical look, then fiddles with her phone again, and comes up with a calculating little smile.)
Vignette: You’re right. (crossing to her) If collabbing isn’t your thing, that’s your life decision to make. (touching Fluttershy’s shoulder) But I just thought of a way for us both to get exactly what we want.
Fluttershy: (smiling) You did?
Vignette: Of course! Getting what I want is what I do best, sweetie. (raising phone) Now say cheese!
(Cut to her perspective on this last word, the device aimed at Fluttershy to frame her image on the screen. One thumb tap later, the view shifts to frame both in profile as a beam envelops Fluttershy and vacuums her into the phone to leave no trace behind.)
Vignette: Sorry, Fluttershy. (pocketing phone) You’ll thank me later.
(She walks away. Cut to somewhere within a featureless white expanse and tilt down to frame a justifiably rattled Fluttershy standing on its best approximation of a floor.)
*** Until further notice, an asterisk (*) on any lines spoken in this space indicates a hollow echo. ***
* Fluttershy: Um…excuse me? Vignette?
(She begins to walk, the camera shifting to frame her from the knees up and picking out the right-angle edges of walls and a not-too-high ceiling behind her.)
* Fluttershy: Where am I?
(The sound of something clattering underfoot brings her up short with a yelp and nearly causes her to trip. Looking down toward her feet, she finds a bowl of salad resting before her—the same one Vignette digitally wiped out with her phone in Act One.)
* Fluttershy: (voice raised) And do you mind if I eat this salad? (She kneels down next to it and continues at normal volume.) I’m feeling stressed.
(Zoom out slowly and fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a slow pan along a midway lined with carnival game booths. Twilight and Sunset approach a ring-toss game manned by the Flim Flam Brothers, whose last appearance on this side of the mirror occurred during the short “A Case for the Bass.” Small metal hoops or rings are laid out on the booth’s counter in groups of three, rows of jugs or bottles stand behind the two hucksters, and the side walls are hung with pennants and stuffed-toy prizes.)
Flim: Step right up! Don’t be shy! (Cut to the two girls, who stop.)
Flam: (from o.s.) Do you like prizes? (Twilight hurries over.) We got prizes!
(The booth again; she steps to the counter.)
Flim: (holding up a ring) Toss this ring onto any one of these bottles. (twirling it on a finger) Easiest game in the park!
(He tosses it over his shoulder so that it clatters neatly down around the neck of one bottle.)
Twilight: Wow! This game does look easy!
Flim: (to Flam) Would you looky here! Somebody who knows a thing or two about a thing or two!
(The budding scientist withdraws some tickets from her pocket and makes to hand them over, but Sunset stops her with a mildly annoyed sigh.)
Sunset: Twilight… (turning her away from booth; close-up) …they’re just giving you the old bump-and-tingle to lure you in. These games are rigged.
(Zoom out quickly to frame the brothers, both of whom react as if accused of murder.)
Flim: Slanderous!
Flam: Libelous!
Twilight: (to Sunset, adjusting glasses) Do you know what’s not rigged? The laws of physics. (rapid fire) Assuming no air resistance and a vertical displacement of zero, horizontal displacement equals initial projectile velocity squared times the sine of twice the launch angle, divided by the acceleration due to gravity.
(Whether the dumbfounded look on Sunset’s face is due to getting lost in her friend’s high-speed explanation, or realizing that she has it dead right and can reel it off at will, may never be known. Both girls turn toward the booth, Twilight confidently handing her tickets to Flim and picking up one ring from a set of three. After a long moment’s deliberation and aiming, she lets fly and it drops neatly onto one bottleneck, the momentum causing it to spin in place for some seconds.)
Flim: Oh, the suspense!
Flam: The drama!
Flim: (covering eyes, but peeking through fingers) I can’t watch!
Flam: (small voice) Hold me!
(They clutch at each other in a shuddering, overdone show of fear…the ring continues to whirl and rattle in place…Sunset begins to smile with Twilight, drawing a tiny little gasp at the impending victory…and then the ring pops off the bottle as if it had been spring-loaded, prompting a frustrated groan from Twilight.)
Sunset: You were pretty close, though. (patting her shoulder, offering more tickets) Maybe we should try one more time?
(Both of them completely miss the shrewd smiles that pass between the brothers’ faces—they have just found their newest mark. Dissolve to a long shot of a hangar as Applejack approaches, then cut to a close-up of its side door as she opens it for a look inside. Work on the parade floats continues apace, while Rarity puts the final touches on a cowboy outfit worn by a male employee. An electrical cord runs out from the belt.)
Rarity: Finished!
(Wiping her forehead with a relieved sigh, she picks up the plugs at the ends of both this cord and a second one.)
Rarity: Let there be light!
(The plugs are connected, causing a plethora of small yellow bulbs on the shirt, pants, and hat to illuminate; a couple of nearby workers stop to marvel at the display.)
Rarity: (sighing happily, dropping plugs) Maybe tonight won’t be a disaster after all.
(The high-wattage costume chooses this very moment to short out in a crackle of sparks and a drift of black smoke tendrils. Rarity’s face stretches into a broad, fixed grin as her pupils/irises contract to crazed points and one eye begins to twitch uncontrollably. Her model removes his hat and uses it to beat out the smoldering spots.)
Rarity: (pacing floor) Will you, uh, excuse me for a moment?
(She has regained her placidity by the time she stops next to a large pile of castoff clothing—and then she utterly abandons all pretense by throwing herself onto it face-first. The nearest workers bug out once she finds her voice.)
Rarity: (muffled, kicking/pounding at pile) ABSOLUTELY OUTLANDISH PUTTING THESE THINGS IN THE UNIVERSE, AND WHY ARE ALL OF THE WRETCHED THINGS HAPPENING TO ME?!?!?
(Cut to Applejack, who stops short in her trip through the hangar.)
Applejack: Huh?
(Turning off to one side with a smile, she finds her friend wallowing in the mess of garments.)
Applejack: Hey, Rarity. How’s it g— (Rarity sits up abruptly.)
Rarity: (rapid fire) I wasn’t having a meltdown. (standing up) Who said I was having a meltdown? (savagely) I AM NOT HAVING A MELTDOWN!!
Applejack: (a bit scared) Whoa. Uh, have you seen Fluttershy? (Rarity straightens her hem.) See, she went wanderin’ off with Vignette and then just disappeared.
Rarity: (scowling) Are you honestly asking me this right now?
Applejack: Oh, it’s not that I don’t trust Vignette, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.
Rarity: We’re in a giant fun park with fifty thousand people. ’Course you can’t find her. (Gasp; suddenly she is all nerves again.) Fifty thousand people… (Louder gasp.) …all looking at my costumes!
Applejack: Are you seriously not concerned about Fluttershy?
Rarity: (pushing her back) That’s a hundred thousand individual eyeballs, Applejack.
Applejack: (needled) Well, if you ain’t gonna worry about her, I will!
(She wastes no time in quitting the area, leaving the thunderstruck designer to recover her wits on her own. This takes a few seconds.)
Rarity: SOMEBODY GET ME A BIGGER PILE OF CLOTHES TO SCREAM INTO!!
(Two more double armloads are swiftly dumped onto the heap. Dissolve to a close-up of a few of the bottles at the ring-toss game; a ring sails into view, clanks down around one neck, and settles to a dead stop before popping away. Zoom out and pan slightly to follow its trajectory past a grimacing Twilight and Sunset, the former clutching a notebook.)
Sunset: COME ON!!
(She goes face-first on the counter as the brainiac groans and scribbles furiously across a page. Flim and Flam, meanwhile, exchange knowing little grunts as Flam scoops up a vast pile of tickets—the result of multiple failed attempts to beat this game, no doubt. The yellow-orange girl raises her head slowly, blue-green eyes glaring with enough intensity to punch a hole through bulletproof glass.)
Sunset: All right, what’s next? (standing up) What are we doing? How are we going to win this?!?
(One last bit of figuring, and Twilight smugly holds her notebook aloft for the brothers to see.)
Twilight: Guess who just mapped out a perfect projectile trajectory, taking into account propulsion, gravity, and aerodynamic drag! (pointing to herself with her pen) This gal. (leaning on counter) Bet you thought I forgot about friction, air drag, and varying initial velocities. Well, guess what? (standing, laying notebook down) I didn’t.
Sunset: What she said! (Twilight holds up some tickets.)
Flim: (slyly, to Flam) You know what they say…
Flam: (as Flim takes them) …hundredth time’s the charm.
(Sunset picks up a ring and lets Twilight adjust the position of her arms based on a lightning-fast round of mental calculations and reckoning by eye. Once satisfied, the egghead backs up with a big grin and a double thumbs-up, and Sunset pulls back to deliver what must surely be a winning throw—right before Applejack pokes her head into view behind them.)
Applejack: Howdy, y’all!
(Spooked by the farmer’s unexpected arrival, Sunset hurls her ring off to one side in a random direction. It ricochets off the bell at the top of a “high striker” game, then the nose of a squeaky giraffe doll in a different game booth, and comes to rest after reducing a banana split to mush on a table and liberally dousing a boy who had been about to dig into it with his mother.)
Twilight, Sunset: Applejack!
Applejack: Oh! (Sheepish laugh.) Sorry. Have you seen Fluttershy? Nobody’s seen her all afternoon. Her phone’s goin’ straight to voice mail. I keep thinkin’ somethin’ real bad mighta happened. (Twilight writes in her notebook.)
Sunset: (smiling) Lighten up, Applejack. There’s not always a villain with Equestrian magic out to get us.
Twilight: On a side note, do you have tickets we could borrow? Kinda used ’em all.
(The camera pans slightly away from the trio to frame Flim, Flam, and the waist-high pile now standing between them. The red-haired barkers whistle innocently as Flam tries to push their take out of sight with a foot. Applejack rolls her eyes with the clearest disgust for her friends’ gullibility and the brothers’ utter lack of moral scruples, but still offers up a string that Sunset is only too eager to take.)
Sunset: (icily) I don’t like to lose.
(Cut to a long shot of the park’s main roller coaster, then to one train hurtling down a hill, then to a close-up of a sweating, scared-silly Rainbow staring up at the whole affair. She is only too relieved to notice the approach of…)
Rainbow: Applejack! Hey! I was just about to ride this thing for, like— (laughing) —the tenth time already.
(A younger girl, who has been standing nearby and witnessing the silent freak-out, coughs loudly to get her attention.)
Rainbow: (to her, whispering) Shhhh! Nothing outta you! (The youth gives her a dirty look and departs.)
Applejack: Uh, have you seen Fluttershy anywhere?
Rainbow: Oh, she was with me. Super-scared of this ride. But I think she went off with Vignette.
Applejack: (walking off) Okay. Thanks.
Rainbow: (calling after her) If you see her, tell her she still owes me a roller coaster ride!
(Only after the apple expert is well out of earshot does she allow herself an unnerved little shudder at the train that has just blasted by. Dissolve to a long shot of a bumper-car arena and zoom in as Applejack walks toward the entrance while studying her map. The view shifts to her perspective of the document just before a loud whistle interrupts her concentration and a pink hand reaches up from behind to yank it down. The face of Pinkie is now exposed, an oversized green cap with lighter polka dots and an orange bill nestled atop the magenta curls. A darker green ribbon dangles from somewhere near the crown.)
Pinkie: No frowning allowed!
(Applejack pulls the map away to give herself a view of her friend from the waist up. Short-sleeved, button-down shirt, one side yellow and the other same green as her cap, with white polka dots on both. The collar and front trim on the green side are the same shade as her hair, as is the trim on the yellow sleeve; the yellow side has orange collar/front trim to match that on the green sleeve. The garment bears multiple dark stains and has a half-eaten lollipop stuck to one shoulder, and a glittery, ribbon-marked badge of a yellow star has been pinned on. A longer shot picks out the equally unwashed, white-belted jeans she has donned, with a slice of pizza adhering to one leg, and the white sneakers on her feet. Her cap bears a decoration along the same lines as the badge, and she is not wearing her pendant.)
Pinkie: (officiously, crumpling map and throwing it away) Hmmm…as Fun Inspector, I’m a little concerned about what I’m seeing here.
Applejack: Pinkie Pie? Don’t tell me you’re workin’ for the park now, too!
Pinkie: (laughing) No, silly! Fun Inspectors are free-lance, and don’t get paid, and totally made up by me earlier today when I saw a little girl crying because she dropped her ice cream and I said to myself, “Pinkie Pie, this place isn’t as fun as it could be!” (showing off her clothes) Do you like the uniform? I made it out of things I found in the trash, but you can’t even tell.
(She pulls the lollipop free and prepares to put her tongue to work on it. Applejack can do no more at first than sputter at this total disregard for food hygiene, but she gets herself under control just in time to confiscate the befouled treat.)
Applejack: So, have you seen Fluttershy anywhere?
Pinkie: Nope, but I have seen my Deputy Fun Inspector.
(On the end of this, cut to a close-up of Applejack’s shirt as she reaches into view to pin on a badge matching hers.)
Pinkie: (arm around Applejack’s shoulders) Ta-da! Now you have all access to the entire park… (slyly, pulling a fresh sucker from her hair) …Deputy Fun Inspector.
(After one hearty lick, she offers it to Applejack with a wink; the newly deputized teen just grimaces at this second flouting of who knows how many health and safety rules. Dissolve to the ranks of bottles in the ring-toss booth, one throw bouncing away, another rattling around a neck and then springing off, then a hailstorm of hoops clattering uselessly in all directions. Zoom out to frame Flim and Flam, now—incredible as it may seem—actually growing weary of the flurry of failures.)
Flim: Ugh…wow.
Flam: So close.
(Cut to Twilight and Sunset still at the counter, hair askew as they stare in mute disbelief at just how far a good grasp of physics has not gotten them in their game. Sunset groans softly as they turn their backs, Twilight holding her notebook and Sunset showing bandages on all her fingers, and they crumple to the ground with a double moan.)
Sunset: (hoarsely) I can’t feel my fingers anymore.
(Her brainiac buddy flips pages, arriving at one full of squiggles and question marks that faces a second decorated with a stick-figure drawing of the two holding a stuffed bird triumphantly aloft.)
Twilight: (woozily) It all looks the same. (adjusting glasses) Is this real life? How long have we been here?
(Flim and Flam move toward the counter with great trepidation, Flam holding the very toy from the drawing—of considerable size, no less.)
Flim: Um, hey, listen, lady.
Flam: Uh, how about you just take a parakeet and go home? (Sunset shoots to her feet and faces them with a savage grimace.)
Sunset: (knocking toy aside) It’s not about the parakeet!
(It lands neatly in the arms of the boy whose banana split was ruined a short while ago, instantly cheering both him and his mother up as they walk among the booths. He has cleaned the ice cream off himself.)
Boy: (gratefully) Awww…
(Sunset snatches up the nearest ring and prepares to let fly, but Twilight stands up and touches the opposite shoulder to rein her in. The dark blue ponytail is back in order now.)
Twilight: You said it yourself. It’s rigged. How about we get some ice cream? (Both put their backs to the booth.)
Sunset: (sighing, calming down) You’re right. (smiling) Why didn’t I listen to myself? (walking away, face falling) We never even had a chance.
(The metal hoop is tossed carelessly backward, the action shifting to slow motion for the time it takes to arc through the empty space between the counter and the bottles. Normal speed resumes as it plunks down around one neck—and stays there. Flim and Flam boggle at the dead-solid-perfect throw, and Flim needs a moment to shift his half-laugh/half-shout of total shock into a confident smile and address the passersby.)
Flim: Well, would you look at that!
Flam: A winner every time!
(One teen steps up to have a turn as the view dissolves to a close-up of a discomfited Applejack.)
Applejack: (scratching head) Or maybe I want her to be my prime suspect because she’s Rarity’s new best friend at the park. Am I goin’ crazy over a whole lotta nothin’?
Old man’s voice: (annoyed) What’s that badge you got there?
(On the end of this line, zoom out to frame her sitting alone on a bench and the speaker—a uniformed, elderly security guard—glaring and pointing at her new accessory from close range. Cut to her.)
Applejack: (flustered) I…uh…uh, y-you see, it—it’s just—
Guard: (from o.s.) It’s a crime to fake security badges, you know! (She recoils in fear; cut to frame both.) I’m a fake cop, but I can send you to real jail! (He holds out a hand as she stands up.)
Applejack: (sighing, removing/handing over badge) If you’ll just let me explain, I-I’m lookin’ for my friend, and—
Guard: Shh! Hands on your head! No sudden moves! Got that?
(She follows instructions as he scrutinizes the badge—and is not at all prepared to hear a surprised little whoop.)
Guard: (smiling) Why didn’t you tell me you were a Deputy Fun Inspector?
(The green eyes flick between his face and the item, the brain behind them completely unable to find any logic here. Dissolve to the interior of a room, the camera pointed toward a closed door that opens to admit the guard.)
Guard: I am so sorry about that, ma’am. (Applejack follows him in, wearing her badge again.) Uh, h-h-here’s my workstation.
(Longer shot of the room, his office: desk, bulletin board, map of the park, file cabinets and boxes, computer system with a bank of monitors and a desk microphone. A few snarls of radio chatter are heard in the background.)
Guard: It hasn’t been fun-inspected in years.
Applejack: (impatiently, pinching bridge of nose) I’m tryin’ to tell you, my friend made this badge! I-It ain’t real! It—
Guard: (knowingly) Oh! An undercover Fun Inspector! I get it. (He adjusts his cap.) Anyway, have fun not inspecting my workstation. Wink, wink.
(He adds finger quotation marks on “not inspecting,” winks exaggeratedly on his last two words, then heads out past her after he has finished.)
Applejack: How many times do I have to say it?
(Having stopped at the door, he winks and puts a thumb to the side of his nose before exiting and pulling it shut. The thoroughly confused Applejack turns to the monitors, but she is all business by the time she has sat in the chair and rolled over to the keyboard. Eyes flick from one screen another and settle on Rainbow and Vignette walking together outside one of the hangars. Zoom in on this view and dissolve to the actual scene, Vignette gesturing idly with phone in hand.)
Vignette: Rarity told me you’re the coolest, smartest friend who knows what’s the opposite of down. (hushed; both stop) What’s up?
Rainbow: Heh. True.
Vignette: I have a bold new vision for the Rainbooms that you are going to love.
(Cut to a mildly befuddled Rainbow, then back to Vignette on the start of the nest line.)
Vignette: The Throwbacks! Capital T, hashtag “TBT,” Throwback Today,” or for short, TCTHTBT-bracket-TBT, pronounced “ta-ka-ta-ka-ba-ta.” You are going to represent the touchstones of cool throughout the ages.
Rainbow: (smiling) I like it so far, and I assume I’ll like what you say next. (Vignette throws an arm around her shoulders.)
Vignette: (gesturing expansively) Rainbow Dash—fifties sock-hop sweetheart! (Puzzlement, then vexation on the blue face.) Poodle skirt, adorable blond hair— (mussing her hair) —how do you feel about shaving your head? I only ask because you’ll definitely have to do it for the wig.
Rainbow: Uh…there is no way anyone is shaving my head.
(As she pats the vivid tresses back in place, Vignette shoots her a venomous look that jumps to a shrewd little smile.)
Vignette: BYBB?
Rainbow: BIAATB. “But I Already Am the Best”?
Vignette: (scowling, pacing) Well, if you insist on just— (Contemptuous sigh.) —being yourself or whatever— (smiling, raising phone) —then at least let me take a picture of the real you.
(The ensuing camera click gives Rainbow just enough time to register sudden confusion just before her entire figure goes monochrome and is wiped off the screen. Applejack, in the security guard’s office, has kept her eyes riveted on this particular surveillance video feed; she pulls in a lung-bursting gasp.)
Applejack: Is Vignette zappin’ my friends with a magical phone? (pounding desk) I know [sic] she was up to somethin’! (Scoff.) Just wasn’t expectin’ somethin’ so magic and evil. She makes ’em disappear—but where do they go?
(Fade to white, then in to the near-featureless void in which Fluttershy found herself at the end of Act Two. Rainbow materializes a few inches above the floor and touches down on her feet, full color returning, and the camera zooms out to frame Fluttershy sitting huddled on the floor behind Vignette’s salad.)
* Rainbow: Aw, man! Are we trapped in a magical phone? (Pause; Fluttershy nods.) Typical. (Another.) You gonna eat that stress salad?
(Snap to black.)
Act Four
(Opening shot: fade in to the interior of the hangar. Rarity, Vignette, and other workers are doing a final check on several completed floats.)
Rarity: One hour until wheels up, everyone! (signing a document on an offered clipboard) The light parade waits for no one! (clapping) Tick-tock, tick-tock!
Vignette: Big night tonight, Rare, perhaps the biggest of all time. Definitely the biggest of your life. I’m excited for you. (Wink.)
Rarity: (slowly losing her cool) You’re not worried? Not that I’m worried, unless you’re worried, in which case I’m very, very worried!
Vignette: (arm across Rarity’s shoulders) There’s no room for self-doubt. You’ve got to get rid of it faster than a pleated cargo skort.
(The very idea is enough to make them both shudder audibly for a moment.)
Vignette: (pacing, barely pausing between sentences) So I love everything you’ve done here. (fingering a dress on a dummy) One thought—do we want the costumes to have lights on them? You’ve got time. I think we should start from scratch.
Rarity: Huh?
Vignette: (very giddy, patting Rarity’s shoulder, ruffling her hair) BT-dubs, every amazing fashion vlogger and Snapgab celeb is gonna be here tonight! No presh.
(“BT-dubs” = a shorter alternative for “BTW,” itself short for “by the way”; “presh” = short for “pressure.” Vignette walks off, casually tapping at her phone and leaving an utterly gobsmacked designer in her wake.)
Rarity: (small voice) Really? ’Cause I’m feeling presh.
(She snaps angrily back to herself with a glance across the hangar, her hair shifting back into place.)
Rarity: Why am I seeing neon pink and yellow on that dragon’s tail? Is this a beast of legend or a safety vest?!
(She indulges her pique with a scowling slump as the view wipes to a cloud-themed float that has been rigged with spotlights to serve as a performance stage for the Rainbooms. Twilight, Pinkie, and Sunset are consulting with other members of the design team, with Applejack’s bass guitar, Pinkie’s drum kit, and Rainbow’s guitar visible behind them. Sunset has now fixed her hair and shed the bandages from the ring-toss debacle of Act Three. Pinkie has trader her makeshift “Fun Inspector” outfit for her usual threads and donned her pendant. She giggles over the crew’s attention as Rarity shoots a withering look up at the four-string and voices an exasperated sigh.)
Rarity: I suppose Applejack has better things to do than final fittings and sound check!
Sunset: Don’t be mad at her. She’s still out trying to find Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy— (pointedly) —who aren’t here either, by the way.
Rarity: Do not tell me who to be annoyed with!
(Uneasy looks pass between the three on the float, but Pinkie is quick to shift into a reassuring grin and jump down.)
Pinkie: I know you’re stressed, Rarity— (pulling Rarity’s arms up/down, peeking under/around them) —but I’m sure you’ve got something totally amazing up your sleeve. You did remember to wear sleeves with amazing things up them, right?
(She has, of course, ignored the fact that Rarity’s dress leaves her arms completely bare.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) STOOOOP!!
(A round of gasps from the o.s. employees; cut to them. They back off to either side, exposing her at the roll-up door, and eye her intently during a long silence. She is no longer wearing the badge Pinkie gave her.)
Applejack: Oh! Uh, not everybody stop. I just meant my friends. (walking in) Y’all keep doin’ what you’re doin’… (All zip away to get back on task.) …sewin’ up them, uh, clothes.
(On the next line, cut to Pinkie and Rarity as Applejack approaches.)
Rarity: Where have you been?! (Vignette can be seen through an office window, using her phone.)
Applejack: Nobody go anywhere with Vignette, understand?
(As she speaks, the woman in question throws her a furtive look and pulls down a shade to hide herself from view. The next two lines overlap.)
Sunset: Not really.
Twilight: Nope.
Pinkie: Nuh-uh.
(Inside the office, Vignette turns worriedly from the shade and glances across the room. The sight of a phone undergoing a battery charge on a desk brings a devilish smile to her face. Back to Applejack and Rarity.)
Rarity: (brusquely shifting Applejack’s position) You can explain yourself after the parade. I’m sure—
Applejack: No, Rarity. Vignette is evil!
(Right on cue, Vignette steps out of the office and pulls the door shut; Pinkie hangs down into view from the ceiling to address Applejack.)
Pinkie: (whispering loudly) Applejack, she can hear you! (Up, up and away with her.)
Applejack: (moving toward Vignette; Rarity briefly tries to pull her back) She’s done somethin’ to Fluttershy, and I saw her from the security office when she made Rainbow Dash disappear with her phone!
(Cut to the other four girls, dismay embossing itself clearly on every face, and then back to Applejack/Vignette during the next line. This shot is close enough to frame the switcheroo that Vignette has pulled off with the spare phone.)
Applejack: Ten eggs and a chicken coop says it’s Equestrian magic!
Vignette: Oh, honey, delusional isn’t your color. (tugging briefly at Applejack’s bangs) You’re an autumn.
Applejack: If you’re so innocent— (Swipe the phone.) —then how do you explain this?!? (snapping pictures of dress on dummy) Say goodbye to your mannequin thingie!
(The quick sequence of flashes has no discernible effect on either the garment or its support. A cut to Applejack’s perspective underscores the mundane nature of the phone as she takes one more shot, pulls it aside to see the dress still there, and tries in vain to swipe this last picture out of sight. Cut to the three; she keeps the device aimed at the dress.)
Applejack: Uh…hang on! Watch it… (waving arms) …disappear!
(Its utter failure to do so causes her to deflate where she stands and Rarity to turn away with an expression of unmitigated disgust.)
Applejack: Uh…I think I hash-gabbed my snap-tag or all in the… (Growl; shake the phone.) …I can’t figure out these new-fandangled apps! (A half-choked noise of fright, complete with blush.) I sound just like Granny Smith!
Vignette: (plucking it away) I just saw your friends. They’re in Wardrobe and they’re fine.
(Ending up next to Rarity, she snaps a selfie with the young designer that sets Applejack steaming all over again.)
Rarity: Are you sure?
Vignette: (playfully stroking Rarity’s cheek) And looking good in your costumes, by the way.
(Now the white cheeks tint over a grateful smile, but the mood breaks as Applejack crosses to confront her.)
Rarity: Applejack, the parade is less than an hour away, a—
Applejack: This is bigger than the parade, Rarity!
Rarity: Nothing’s bigger than the parade, Applejack! (A long, knife-edged pause.)
Applejack: (really offended) I know you didn’t just say that about your missing friends!
Vignette: (walking off between them) I’m gonna let you two sort this out amongst yourselves.
(An imperious snap and flapping hand sends the rest of the team running for either cover or something to do.)
Rarity: Applejack, admit it! You don’t care about my parade!
Applejack: “My parade”?!? This isn’t about you! She’s done somethin’ to our friends!
Rarity: Is this about our friends or about you and Vignette? Ever since she gave me this opportunity, you’ve been jealous because she sees my potential but she didn’t hire you!
Twilight: You guys, stop!
Sunset: This isn’t like you!
Applejack: You’re so blind, you can’t even see she’s usin’ you! You only like her because she’s always blowin’ smoke up your chimney! (advancing on Rarity) But that’s what she does to everyone! You’re not special!
(The full impact of what she has just said takes a few seconds to register in her mind, and her features rearrange into an expression of muted horror. She has indeed gone a step too far, and the silent animosity radiating from Rarity’s form would surely burn the blonde to ash if a stray spark were present.)
Applejack: (softly, turning from her) Maybe I should just go.
Rarity: Maybe you should.
(Applejack trudges away, not seeing the tears that start to gather in the wounded blue eyes.)
Sunset: (calling across floor) Applejack, wait! (Rarity runs sobbing for the office.)
Pinkie: Rarity!
(By the time she, Twilight, and Sunset hit the floor to give chase, Rarity has already shut the door behind herself and Vignette has returned.)
Vignette: Waiting is for waiters, ladies. We’re better off without her. (She turns Pinkie around and puts an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.)
Twilight: (puzzled) “We”?
Vignette: (raising her own phone in her free hand) The Throwbacks, formerly known as the Rainbooms.
(A finger pokes at the end of the pink nose sparks all three girls’ faces to harden with instant distrust.)
Sunset: Hang on. (She pulls Pinkie away.) Why does “we” include you?
Vignette: Obviously somebody needs to fill Apple Juice’s spot. (twirling away from them) And since it’s so last-minute, we are lucky to have someone with as much vision and talent as, well…
Pinkie: Uh…you?
Vignette: And not just that, but we’ll be playing a song I wrote.
Sunset: Okay. One, you are not in the band. And two, we are not performing without Applejack. (Twilight nods firmly.)
Pinkie: Which is her name, by the way, not Apple Juice!
Twilight: And you know what? She’s not usually one to make things up, like…ever.
Sunset: So all that stuff she said about you…
Vignette: (casually, fluffing hair) Eh, is true.
(Before the trio can complete a full step toward her, she has fired off a wide-angle beam from her phone’s camera and sucked them all into it.)
Vignette: Now let’s see if this Equestrian magique is all it’s cracked up to be.
(The screen now displays Sunset’s image alongside a range of hair/clothing options, and a few taps/swipes turn her into a princess complete with bouffant, tiara, and exaggeratedly extravagant gown.)
Vignette: Now, then. (Tap.) That’s better.
(A bit more finger work projects still-life holograms of the five missing girls onto the stage, their colors slightly washed out and their personal styles radically overhauled. In order of appearance: Fluttershy as a punk/metal guitarist; Rainbow as a 1950s-era teenybopper with her guitar in hand; Twilight as a rapper, her glasses gone; Sunset in the princess getup and with her guitar; Pinkie behind the drums and wearing a dark business suit and no tie, her hair straightened and tied back.)
Vignette: (enraptured) I wish I’d had this thing years ago! (Rarity emerges from the office with a sigh.) Think how perfect my life could have looked!
(The purple-haired teen has barely shut the door and started walking off before the boss accosts her.)
Vignette: (giddily, pulling her close) Oh! Rare, you’re not gonna believe this!
(Cut to a slow pan across the stage full of ersatz musicians.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) What? What is this? (stepping into view) What am I looking at?
Vignette: Your friends, but better! Now we can make the parade exactly how I want it.
Rarity: (skeptically, backing off) How you want it? You said you hired me for my vision!
Vignette: Well, I needed your vision to bring out my vision. But now there’s an app for that.
(Now good and scared, the fashionista runs a set of fingers across one of the fake Fluttershy’s shins, causing the image to flicker and stutter.)
Rarity: Vignette, wh-what is going on here? Where are my friends?
Vignette: (Valley Girl accent) Like, trapped in the Internet as zeroes and ones, or erased from existence, or something?
(She finishes the thought with a shrug and an “I don’t know” grunt, both of which put Rarity even more on edge.)
Rarity: What?!
Vignette: See, like, my phone became magique or something, and now it has this power where whenever I take a picture of something and it disappears [sic]. (pacing, increasingly animated) And then I can customize them with a swipe of my finger and make them real again—or real enough. But hey, blah-blah-blah, OMG, I’m boring myself to death just talking about this stuff.
(“OMG” = “oh my gosh.” Cut to Rarity on the end of this, her dander well and truly up.)
Rarity: Bring back my friends this instant!
Vignette: Fine. If you want to be with them so bad— (fiddling with phone) —I’ll do you one last favor. (aiming camera at Rarity) You’re welcome.
(Cut to her perspective, the teen framed on the screen. She has just enough time for one panicked cry before a tap sets off the camera and its flash whites out the view. Snap to black.)
Act Five
(Opening shot: snap to the upper reaches of the featureless white room that has become a prison for Twilight, Fluttershy, and Rainbow. Tilt down to frame a seated Twilight and a standing Rainbow.)
* Twilight: (groaning) I can’t believe we’re trapped in Vignette’s phone!
* Rainbow: We’re no strangers to getting stuck in magical objects.
(A reference to the shenanigans of “Mirror Magic.” Cut to a longer shot, framing all three previous captives and two new ones—Fluttershy and Twilight seated on either side of Rainbow, Pinkie and Sunset standing. Pinkie is looking happily off in a different direction from the others, and Vignette’s salad is still in its bowl on the floor.)
* Sunset: At least Rarity and Applejack are still free. (Pinkie registers mild confusion.) Maybe they can get us outta here.
* Fluttershy: They have to stop fighting first.
* Twilight: (standing up) We can’t just sit around hoping to get rescued. (winking) If we’re in the Internet, we can hack our way out! (Pause.) Well, I can. (Another; she deflates slightly.) Maybe. (Fluttershy is now on her feet.)
* Fluttershy: Oh, I hope Rarity and Applejack are okay. I wish we knew what’s going on out there.
(Eyes turn toward the ceiling, the camera tilting up to follow. The screen flashes white and clears to give a close-up of Vignette just after she has snapped Rarity’s photo.)
Vignette: Sorry, Rare. Guess you’re not so rare after all.
(She glances up from her phone, pale blue eyes widening in total shock, and a longer shot tells the reason: the flesh-and-blood Rarity is still very much present.)
Vignette: Okay, that was your cue to disappear.
(The phone fires off again, but Rarity conjures up a gem shield and lets it be pulled in—she used the magic of her pendant to stop the first strike.)
Rarity: (smirking, circling around Vignette) Hmm. Never underestimate a good accessory. (Vignette tries again; same result.)
Vignette: Stop un-magique-ing my magique thingie! (Again, this time with a snarl.)
Rarity: I can’t believe I listened to you over Applejack!
(Now she goes on the offensive, projecting a stream of smaller gems into the adversary’s face and taking advantage of the distraction to bug out.)
Vignette: Hey!
(Rarity takes cover behind a float.)
Vignette: (scoffing) U-G-H, whatevs. I don’t need you anyway. (addressing room) Attention, people who work for me! (They scramble up.) I am now the lead costume designer, because our former lead costume designer is being HBW—“Herself, but Worse”! Now pretend I just gave you an inspiring speech and GET BACK TO WORK!!
(The subordinates scurry to meet her demand. Wipe to Applejack, pacing worriedly not far from the hangar under a darkening sunset sky. At the sound of a few musical tones broadcast over the public-address system, everyone within earshot hurries away, leaving her alone.)
Applejack: The parade’s about to start! (Groan.) If only I’d done somethin’ or said somethin’ different, maybe none of this woulda happened.
(A moment’s morose reflection gives way to a heavy sigh.)
Applejack: I really screwed things up with Rarity.
Rarity: (from o.s., somewhat distant) APPLEJAAACK!! (Who turns toward the voice with a gasp.)
Applejack: Rarity!
(And here comes the former lead costume designer, badly out of breath.)
Rarity: Don’t go! (Cut to Applejack.)
Applejack: Uh…
Rarity: (from o.s.) You were right.
(Cut back to her for the start of the next line, then to Applejack and finally both as she continues. An understanding smile comes over the apple expert’s face by the time she runs out of words.)
Rarity: I got carried away and let this stupid parade become the only thing that mattered to me, and I let Vignette manipulate me with false flattery into forgetting what really matters—my friends.
Applejack: (touching Rarity’s shoulders) Come on now. Your talent puts you so far beyond the need for flattery. (Cut to Rarity.)
Rarity: (blushing angrily, throwing hands off) Stop flattering me! I’m not finished apologizing! (Deep breath to compose herself.) I’m sorry I lost sight of why we applied for jobs here in the first place. (Cut to Applejack on the next line.)
Applejack: And I’m sorry I got jealous. All this time I thought I was bein’ honest with you about not likin’ Vignette, I-I wasn’t bein’ honest with myself. I felt like I was losin’ my best friend.
Rarity: (taking her hand) You didn’t.
(Blushes stain both pairs of cheeks as the reconciled friends smile at one another.)
Rarity: Caramel apple girls to the end?
(A beaming nod in response is the prelude to a tight hug that lasts and lasts—at least until Rarity backs away with a cry of fright.)
Rarity: Our friends! Vignette has them all trapped in the Internet! (shaking Applejack’s shoulders) She confessed! We have to get them out! We have to save them! (Applejack backs off.)
Applejack: What?! We’ve been wastin’ all this time chin-waggin’ about feelin’s? (socking one hand into other palm) We need to get crackin’ on a rescue plan!
(Strategizing is stopped cold by the ringing of her phone, she fishes it from a pocket and answers, greatly surprised to find herself talking to…)
Applejack: Twilight?
(A vertical panel displaying the bookworm in the white no-space slides in from the right to establish a split-screen view.)
* Twilight: It worked! Applejack, we’re stuck in Vignette’s phone! (Fullscreen view of her and the other four here.) I found a way to hack her Apple Popper app to route a VOIP connection to your IP address.
(Unlike the other acronyms used to this point, “VOIP”—Voice Over Internet Protocol—is spoken as a single syllable. Back to Applejack, who has managed to follow none of this.)
Applejack: Uh…magic. Got it. (Split screen.)
* Twilight: Listen. We’ve come up with a plan to set all this right.
(Full screen on her end, utter confusion slowly taking hold in the others’ minds during the following string of technical jargon. As she continues, the view cuts back to Applejack and Rarity, her words heard over the line; the girl in the brown hat uses her free hand to cover her non-phone ear while moving a few steps away.)
* Twilight: You’ll need to remotely install a virus that creates a backdoor admin account which you can use to reset all the permissions on her phone and make a proxy backup. That should get us out of here. (Applejack lowers the phone and taps the screen to activate the speaker on these last words.) How much coding do you know?
Applejack: Uh…none. I…I can rub two sticks together.
(Twilight’s words now begin to sound as if they are being spoken simultaneously over the phone and by the girl herself, but somewhat muffled.)
Twilight: Oh, boy. Okay. Get a pencil.
Applejack: Uh, hang on. (walking) I think I can hear you talkin’!
Twilight: What? (Stop near a closed door.)
Applejack: S-Somewhere close!
(She notices it and puts a hand to the knob. Snap to black, which splits vertically to frame her incredulous silhouette just outside as the door swings inward. Once normal lighting re-establishes itself, the camera zooms out quickly to frame the very room in which her five missing friends have been trapped.)
Applejack: (dryly) Really, y’all?
*** The echo effect of the occupants’ words ends at this point. ***
Twilight: Ohhhh! The phone just teleported us into some random white room in the park.
(Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rainbow at least have the good grace to look ashamed of themselves, but Twilight slaps on a big stupid grin and adjusts her glasses.)
Sunset: (vexed) We were just sitting in a white room the whole time?
Pinkie: (brightly) So you guys didn’t know that?
(Those six words explain her staring-off-into-space bit at the start of this act—she was the only one to notice the door, but never said anything about it. Rainbow hangs her head out of sheer mortification, while Sunset’s face goes a most alarming shade of red-orange and a teakettle sings in her head. Twilight manages a sheepish little blush as Rarity joins Applejack at the doorway and a flash heralds the sudden arrival of…)
Twilight: Micro Chips?!
(He has cleaned himself up from his Act Two mishap at the caramel apple stand and is holding one of those snacks. Applejack has put away her phone by this point.)
Twilight: (gasping) Did Vignette take your picture just now?
Micro: I was just minding my own business, making perfect caramel apples, when suddenly Vignette saw me and said I wasn’t as cool a nerd as she thought. Then she took my picture and I ended up here, violating all known laws of space and time.
Sunset: (now calm) Guys, this is bad. It means Vignette is on the parade route, and she’s using her phone to change whatever she doesn’t like!
Fluttershy: What happens if she decides she doesn’t like the crowd? (Gasp.)
(The room is seen in full for the first time: squarish, perhaps four or five yards on a side and about half as tall. Twilight has now pocketed her phone.)
Twilight: Everyone in the park is watching that parade. If her phone teleports that many people into this tiny room at the same time…
Pinkie: (gasping deeply) Squish City!
(She mashes Fluttershy’s and Rainbow’s cheeks against her own to drive the point home.)
Rarity: Our friends are in that crowd! Sweetie Belle is in that crowd! We’ve got to stop her!
Applejack: You do realize if we stop the parade, no one will see all your hard work.
Rarity: (smiling) Someone reminded me that none of that matters without my friends.
(The reminder brings a blushing smile to the freckled face.)
Sunset: We’d better hurry. (touching Applejack’s shoulder, walking out past her) I’m sure Vignette’s getting more corrupted by Equestrian magic every minute.
(Applejack steels herself and follows Sunset out. Wipe to a long overhead shot of the parade in progress, with Vignette riding on the cloud float as it brings up the rear. Throngs of cheering patrons line the route on both sides. Cut to a ground-level view of the spectacle rolling by: the four riders from Act One on a candy-themed float, a cowboy roping the Adagio mascot on one styled after the Wild West, the holographic Throwbacks—now jerkily playing their instruments—and the real Vignette on the stage. Twilight’s double has now acquired a keytar, Vignette a microphone, and the sun has fully set.)
Amplified, sung loudly and badly, with no particular regard for pitch or meter
Accompanied by a sloppy rock melody, moderate 4 (G major)
Vignette: Be yourself, but better
Or don’t be yourself at all
(The crowd’s jubilation turns to loud jeers and boos at her atrocious performance, and ears are plugged with fingers.)
Follow Vignette on Snapgab
That’s V-I-G-N-E-T-T-E
(She holds the last letter/”note” until a squeal of feedback drowns her out, looks over the side, and finds healthy degrees of displeasure, disgust, and disgruntlement on every face within her field of vision.)
Vignette: (seething, throwing microphone aside) This crowd isn’t cheering enough for my tastes. (pulling out phone) Luckily, that can be changed with the flick of a finger. (aiming it at crowd) Say cheese, everyone!
(Her perspective of the scrolling faces. Just as all three Crusaders come into frame and the index finger moves to trigger the camera, a mighty crash throws her off balance and the music cuts off sharply. Back to her as the entire front end of the float is tipped up from the roadbed by a tanned arm; a longer shot puts Applejack on the scene, using her magical strength to bring the proceedings to a halt, accompanied by gasps from the crowd. The camera then shifts to just behind Vignette and tilts up on the next line to frame the other six Rainbooms standing dead ahead.)
Rarity: Sorry to rain on your parade!
(Applejack lets the float slam down and gives her an index-finger gun.)
Applejack: Nice one! (Rarity winks in reply.)
Rarity: But I’m afraid this evening is canceled. (holding out one hand, palm up) Now turn off your phone and hand it over!
(Confused murmurings from the spectators.)
Vignette: (straightening up) Are you honestly asking a social media star to hand over her phone? (More murmurs.)
Applejack: Yeah, she is.
Vignette: (gesturing toward Throwbacks) Rarity, this is the version of your friends that will be popular. I have the metrics to back that up.
(Cocked-eyebrow glances pass between the two teens, followed by a double eye roll.)
Vignette: Doesn’t matter if they’re real. It’s what you show people online. This is your chance to be everything you’ve always wanted!
Rarity: No! It’s a chance to look like everything I’ve always wanted! (glancing at Applejack) What I really want has been right in front of me the whole time! (smiling, offering her a hand) My friends.
(Applejack reaches for it. Cut to an extreme close-up as the two sets of fingers wrap around each other, then to each of their pendants powering up in turn. Twilight and Sunset do likewise, then Fluttershy and Pinkie, the pink girl taking Rainbow’s hand. The screen tiles itself with seven vertical panels that slide in from top/bottom, each framing one girl from nose to knees. Tilt up slightly to frame their faces as they turn in unison to present their right cheeks, each of which becomes decorated with an element from that girl’s cutie mark. Fade to white, then in to the linked seven floating in midair, fully ponied up and wearing the hero outfits they gained in “Forgotten Friendship.” Vignette gapes up at them from her spot on the stopped float.)
Vignette: Huh?
Rarity: No amount of online success is worth it without my real-life friends to share in it!
(Crackles of energy work their way in from both ends of the line, arcing from one to the next. Rarity, at the center position, finds the power concentrating itself into her right arm; it forms into a long, glowing whip with a jeweled handle as she pulls her hands free. Vignette has time to voice one small yelp before a mighty crack punches cleanly through the phone in her hand, forcing her to drop it as the wayward Equestrian magic that had enchanted it begins to dissipate. It lands on the float, screen down, and the sticker on the fractured case resumes its original smiling expression as the last of the magic fades away. One by one, the Throwbacks fizzle and vanish.)
Vignette: What have you done? Now how can things ever be perfect? (The Rainbooms settle slowly onto the float, Rarity no longer holding the whip.)
Rarity: I love nothing more than someone telling me I made a perfect outfit. But I’d say you got a bit carried away.
Vignette: (chastened) I—I guess so.
Applejack: (needled) You guess so? You created virtual holograms of our friends and almost sent an entire crowd of people to Squish City!
(Grumbles ripple up and down the route.)
Vignette: (pleadingly) But…BYBB.
Rarity: It’s not a bad thing to want to be better, but not at the expense of other people— (looking to Applejack) —and especially not your friends.
Vignette: Friends? (Sigh.) I have three million followers, but no real friends. (She turns away.) How pathetic is that? (Quiet moan.)
Rarity: You’ve got one… (Vignette raises her head, surprised, as Rarity extends a hand.) …if you want.
Applejack: (offering one of hers) Make that two.
(The crowd goes wild as Vignette clasps Rarity’s fingers n acceptance.)
Pinkie: (to Fluttershy/Rainbow) Why are they clapping? (shrugging; Rainbow checks her phone) Do we even know what’s going on?
Fluttershy: (shrugging) Eh.
Rainbow: Whoa! (showing phone to Pinkie) The Rainbooms are trending on Snapgab!
Pinkie: People are saying that rainbow laser thing was the coolest light parade show they’ve ever seen!
(Fluttershy smiles along with them as they turn to face the crowd, all using their mobile devices in assorted ways.)
Applejack: Hey…maybe the parade ain’t ruined after all.
Sunset: We do still have our real instruments up there.
Rainbow: (to Fluttershy) You’re not too nervous?
Fluttershy: (playfully) I should ask you the same thing. (She adds a wink as Rainbow nudges her in the shoulder.)
Rarity: (to Applejack) If you’re up for it.
(The farm girl nods as cheers erupt from all sides.)
Quiet, sparse electric guitar line, pop feel, fast 4 (A major)
(Rainbow plugs her guitar cord into an amplifier; Sunset sets the dropped microphone back in its stand; Applejack plugs a cord into her bass; Fluttershy picks up Pinkie’s drumsticks from the kit.)
Rarity: A blemish on the surface of a perfect happy pic
(Standing with keytar slung up, Rarity regards it with some unease. She smiles and reaches up to fluff her hair, the camera tilting up to frame the top of her head as the view dissolves to the hangar’s cluttered design area. Her hair is now piled in curls and topped with a miniature pointed hat and strings of pennants that call to mind an old-time carousel. She has donned forearm guards striped in two shades of light orange and is no longer ponied up.)
Just add a fancy filter, and that’s an easy fix
(The shoes are now light blue, the one-shoulder dress orange-trimmed in shades of blue, with a cylindrical skirt patterned as this same ride—ponies and all. A blue-green gem pattern covers the bodice.)
Bass drum, synthesizer in
(She smiles at her reflection in a mirror at first, but her face soon falls. The appearance of several dim silhouettes in the glass surprises her; she turns to find the other six girls smiling her way, all back to their normal selves and clothing.)
Rarity: But behind that perfect snapshot are the people who you love
(A cautious, lip-chewing smile is met by a moment’s pondering from Applejack, followed by a winking grin and thumbs-up, and tan hands pull white ones away.)
Don’t forget those happy moments are because of
(Cut to a photo of all seven whooping it up in the park, a selfie taken by Applejack; Rarity is back to her usual elegant self. This is followed by Pinkie dropping a caramel apple on Twilight’s head as Applejack eyes one of her own concernedly and Rarity smiles over the shoulders of all three.)
Vocals echo slightly
Applejack: Our memories together
Rarity: They can last forever
(Fluttershy and Rainbow ride the monster roller coaster, the former having a ball and the latter freaking out. Next Twilight, Pinkie, and Sunset have a go on a “swing ride”—chairs suspended by chains from the edge of a rotating circular platform.)
Applejack: We won’t let this break us
Rainbooms: We’ll get through whatever
Full percussion in; echo ends
(Fade to white, then in to the stage; the band is in full swing and still ponied up.)
Rainbooms: Side by side on this adventure, our friendship will never, ever end
Side by side, besties forever, we know that it’s more than just a trend
Percussion drops back to a cymbal tapping eight notes
(Cut to Applejack and Rarity in turn.)
Applejack: ’Cause it’s you
Rarity: And me
Rainbooms: This is how it should be
Full instrumentation in
(Fade to white, then in to a slow zoom in on a game booth manned by a sullen-looking Flim and Flam. The girls have gathered here, reverted to their civilian selves, and Rainbow lets loose a salvo of baseballs that knock out every pyramid of three bottles set up on a shelf. The shady brothers can only stare slack-jawed as their would-be marks celebrate in assorted ways.)
Applejack: The whole world stands before you, full of things to see
(A giant stuffed parakeet, identical to the one Sunset angrily rejected in Act Three, is hoisted overhead by Twilight and Sunset as all take their leave. Cut to Fluttershy, face scrunched up with terror, as Rainbow leans into view to gently pull away the hands covering her eyes, and zoom out. The Rainbooms are riding the Ferris wheel, and Fluttershy begins to get into the spirit as they rise toward its peak.)
Pay attention or you’ll miss it, life’s best is always free
(The bumper-car arena, as the girls steer about, Bulk rams Trixie and knocks her back. Pinkie—dressed in her Fun Inspector “uniform,” sans pendant—cruises by and hands her a cone of cotton candy with a wink, instantly cheering her up.)
Don’t lose sight of what’s important, give more than you can take
(Rarity, in her carousel dress, walks a runway on a float and gets a standing ovation.)
Applejack, Rarity: There’s so much to strive for, so many friendships you can make
Instrumentation drops back to quiet guitar, bass drum, synth; vocals echo slightly
(Rarity spots Applejack at the back of the crowd and pulls her joyfully up onto the float for a hug.)
Rarity: All those likes can’t measure
Applejack: The fun we have together
Applejack, Rarity: When we’re in the moment
Rainbooms: Everything is better
Full instrumentation in; echo ends
(Cut to a long shot of a photo booth and zoom in slowly as the girls crowd in, Pinkie and Rarity both back in their everyday duds. Inside, they sit/stand in every available square inch of space and are all set for the flash—until Rainbow loses her balance and sends everyone toppling toward the floor. The results are shown in a series of snapshots: the tumble in progress…a tangle of flailing legs with Rainbow’s head and arm partly visible behind…seven dazed, disheveled, dismayed faces, Applejack with hat in hand… the girls back in order and laughing over the fumble…Rainbow winking and flexing a bicep as Twilight makes a silly face behind her back…Sunset offering an even goofier one for the lens…Applejack winking alongside Rarity…Pinkie wearing a dog mask and Sunset a big red mustache…Fluttershy and Pinkie laughing themselves silly.)
Rainbooms: Side by side on this adventure, our friendship will never, ever end
Side by side, besties forever, we know that it’s more than just a trend
Sustained synth chord only
(A flash brings up one final group shot, with Applejack and Rarity sharing a quiet smile amid the surrounding jubilation. Zoom out slowly to show it as part of the strip of photos taken in the booth.)
Applejack, Rarity: (muted) This is how it should be
Song ends
(Fade to black.)
MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS
Digital Series—Volume Two
Production credits for all shorts are as follows:
Produced by Angela Belyea
Directed by Ishi Rudell
Co-directed by Katrina Hadley
(Writing/story editing credits are listed on each individual transcript)
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.
“X Marks the Spot” through “Friendship Math” take place on the beach that
served as the setting for portions of “Forgotten Friendship.” Refer to that
transcript for details on the girls’ swimwear and accessories.
Background song lyrics are in square brackets; any marked with an exclamation
point are shouted rather than sung.
“All the World’s Off Stage” (CYOE)
Written by Christopher Godfrey; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an extreme close-up of Sunset Shimmer’s mouth. The collar and shoulders of a dark gray T-shirt are visible, her pendant is not, and the business end of a headset microphone is poised by her mouth. A fast electronic tune grows in volume.)
Sunset: Go!
(Longer shot: she stands backstage in the Canterlot High School gym, having traded her usual clothing for the T-shirt and similarly colored pants. One hand grips a clipboard while the other gestures for the Cutie Mark Crusaders to hustle out; they are attired as dirty-faced coal miners and carrying shovels and pickaxes.)
Sunset: Go! And…go!
(The three girls dance their way onto the stage, which is set with a mine-tunnel backdrop, and the camera zooms out slightly to frame Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, and Flash Sentry in the otherwise-empty floor seats. This is a rehearsal for Dazzled, the school play referenced throughout the CYOE shorts in Volume One. Sunset, having traded her previous directorial role for that of stage manager, taps a pencil against her clipboard to keep the beat.)
Sunset: Ten seconds to set change! (pointing) Stage crew ready?
(Cut to the Crusaders, seen in profile, and pan to frame Snips and Snails in the wings at the opposite end of the stage. They have switched their everyday outfits for dark pants and short-sleeved shirts, and have each managed to get several turns of the rigging ropes snarled around themselves.)
Snips, Snails: (grunting, straining) Uh-huh.
Sunset: (flashing countdown on fingers) In five, four, three…pyro!
(A fog machine is switched on, sending out thick billows of mist to blanket the stage as the Crusaders clear out.)
Sunset: And… (pointing) …bring in Shiny City!
(The two boys haul on the ropes, causing a scenery flat to slide in behind a quartet of actors emerging onto the stage. Three are miners, one carrying a cutout of a loaded mine cart in front of herself, and the fourth wears a train engineer’s cap and holds a locomotive up so his face is visible through its side window. The flat, styled as a sparkly, cloud-wreathed metropolis, creaks and lurches across the stage and thoroughly fails to match their speed. The music and the acting both wind to a stop, the flat having barely advanced a quarter of the way across, and Snips and Snails lose their grip on the ropes and thud to the floor with a double groan. Murmurs sound from on and off the stage as Twilight and Pinkie stand up; Sunset puts a frustrated hand to her forehead and blows a lock of hair away from her eyes before crossing to Snips and Snails.)
Sunset: Guys, the effect is ruined if we don’t get the set across the stage in time with the dancers!
Snips: (groaning) But it’s like moving a ton of bricks that’s been built like…like a city! (Sunset grimaces to herself.)
Sunset: There’s gotta be a better way to move this thing. (Cut to Twilight on the start of the next line.)
Twilight: Don’t worry, Sunset. I’ve got an idea. (Zoom out slightly to frame Pinkie.)
Pinkie: (waving) Ooh, ooh! Pick me! Me too! Pick me, pick me, pick me!
(All the lights in the gym go out and the camera pans slightly to frame a single narrow spotlight shining down onto Micro Chips, hunched amid the back rows. Close-up as he stands.)
Micro: Surely brains, not brawns, are the secret formula for backstage success!
(Prompts for him, Twilight, and Pinkie appear around Sunset, accompanied by the ten-second timer that appeared in the opening segment of the Volume One CYOE shorts. She glances pensively among them as the seconds tick down, and the timer fades away once it reaches zero.)
“Choose Twilight Sparkle” ending
(Snap to Sunset standing in front of the stalled-out Shiny City set onstage. Twilight faces her from the floor; full lights have been restored in the gym.)
Sunset: Thanks, Twilight. (turning to it; close-up) Your geode powers’ll make moving this set a cinch. Ready? (pointing to her) Magic, go!
(A great deal of nothing happens, and she is more than a bit surprised to discover that her friend has vacated the premises. She looks around, scratching her head in puzzlement; close-up.)
Sunset: Twilight—
(She trails off into a pained yell and drops her clipboard as something runs into her leg, accompanied by a whine of machinery. Tilt down to her feet, where a cylindrical, one-wheeled device has just collided with her ankle; a circular hatch is set into its side. After it beeps and thuds against her boot again, she sidesteps away from it; now Twilight runs onto the stage carrying a controller. She steers the thing around during the following exchange, including several bumps into the scenery flats and a pivot that exposes a second hatch diametrically across from the first.)
Twilight: This is the perfect chance to test my robotics club project!
Sunset: I would’ve gone with super-amazing, perfect-for-this-specific-problem Equestrian magic, but okay.
Snips: (from o.s., sarcastically) Oh, great! (He and Snails come out from the wings.) There go the robots, taking all our high-paying jobs again!
Snails: Yeah! (confused, to Snips) Wait. We’re getting paid for this?
(Sunset groans wearily to herself in close-up, but is cut off by a string of beeps from the robot. It has made its way over to three actors in the wings, and it bumps into a crate and nearly takes out a shin before veering away. A quizzical stare from the stage manager is met with Twilight’s satisfied smile and thumbs-up. Dissolve to the two girls backstage, Sunset having recovered her clipboard so she can tap her pencil against it in time with the electronic background score. Rehearsals are underway once more.)
Sunset: And…bring in Shiny City!
(This is Twilight’s cue to tap a button on her controller; tilt down to the robot waiting by her feet. It leaps up for a quick midair spin and the upper/lower portions of its housing telescope away from the middle, exposing a camera lens as a pincer-tipped arm extends from each side hatch. One latches onto the leading edge of the Shiny City backdrop, while the other snakes past Sunset’s foot to snag a pipe that runs up the wall as an anchor point. The first arm reels in, pulling the backdrop onto the stage so that it keeps pace with the four actors dancing their way in. Close-up of the device.)
Sunset: (kneeling to it; the pipe is released) Twilight, your robot’s amazing! (The flat is magically lifted away.) Let’s do this one more time from the top!
(It takes her a beat to realize that Twilight is now using her pendant-granted telekinesis to reset the scene.)
Twilight: Ready when you are!
(She beams as Sunset throws her a “yeah, you got me” smile. “Iris out” to black, centered on Sunset’s face.)
“Choose Pinkie Pie” ending
(Snap to Pinkie blowing up a balloon; she stands before the stage, which is now festooned with bunches of them secured to its surface. Sunset pushes her way through them, no longer carrying her clipboard, and full lights have been restored in the gym.)
Sunset: Pinkie Pie, what are these? (Close-up.)
Pinkie: (from o.s., shoving the balloon to her) Party balloons!
Sunset: (setting it down) I’m not sure we have time for balloons. (Pinkie leans hard toward her.)
Pinkie: YOU WILL MAKE TIME, SUNSET!! (normal tone, pulling several from her hair) I mean, there’s always time for balloons.
(She giggles and tosses them overhead; pan/tilt down slightly to frame Snips and Snails. As they tumble down around the two boys, the first catches one happily while the second shudders and cringes away from contact with them.)
Snails: (shakily) I love balloons…they’re not scary at all…
Snips: (blissfully, cuddling his) Little balls of joy!
(One squeeze too many pops it and sends him into an impossible vertical screaming leap, from which he lands gracelessly in Snails’ arms.)
Snips: (shaking fist) Traitor!
Snails: I told you!
Pinkie: (to Sunset) Actually, they’re the set.
Sunset: You mean, they’re for the set.
Pinkie: Nope.
Sunset: I feel like you’re gonna have to explain this. (Long pause.)
Pinkie: Nope.
(Dissolve to a close-up of Sunset in the wings again. The electronic background score kicks up again—rehearsals have resumed.)
Sunset: (pointing) Bring in Shiny City!
(Where the two boys had stood at the opposite end, Pinkie slides a large fan into view. In a movement almost too fast to follow, she has crossed to Sunset’s side; a grinning throw of a wall switch, and the blades whir up to full speed. Out onstage, the four actors advance from the wings and the Shiny City set—now built entirely of balloons sculpted to resemble a city skyline—easily keeps pace with them, bringing a big smile to Sunset’s face.)
Pinkie: See? (arm across Sunset’s shoulders) Balloons can do anything.
(The stage manager laughs and gives her a hug as the view “irises out” to black, centered on their faces.)
“Choose Micro” ending
(Snap to an extreme close-up of Micro’s hands using a tape measure to check the dimensions on a backstage pulley. On the start of the following, cut to frame him, Sunset, Snips, and Snails in the wings; he jots on a notepad, while Sunset does not have her clipboard. Full lights have been restored in the gym.)
Micro: While simple machines do provide a mechanical advantage by multiplying force against a single load—i.e. the set—I’m afraid the net loss of force due to friction in the opposite vector has not been overcome.
(During this spiel, the camera cuts to the two uncomprehending stagehands, then back to the foursome as he tucks his pad away.)
Sunset: (dryly) No kidding.
Snips: Pfft! Your face is an opposite vector.
Micro: (adjusting glasses) Your face is nothing more than a genetically predetermined arrangement of stratified squamous epithelial cells.
(The rotund teen finds himself at a complete loss for words, his eyes flicking helplessly around for any shred of support.)
Snails: Oh, snap, Snips! Burn! (Pause.) I think.
Snips: Harsh. (Micro picks up a rope and tugs on it…)
Sunset: I’m not sure you’ll be able to move that giant heavy set on your own. (…then lets go.)
Micro: I won’t be moving anything. (tapping forehead, then gesturing across gym) This muscle is gonna convince those muscles to move it on their own.
(On the end of this line, cut to his perspective of the area. He gestures toward Bulk Biceps in a chair near the far corner, reading a magazine in one hand and working out with a dumbbell in the other. He is wearing the shorts and barbell-marked tank top he sported in “Best Trends Forever,” as well as his favorite winged red/white baseball cap. Zoom in quickly on him, then cut back to Sunset and Micro.)
Sunset: Bulk Biceps? But I already asked him for help. He’s too busy working out for his part in the play— (rolling eyes) —Lump of Coal.
(Bulk stands up, gesturing dramatically with his weight-laden hand.)
Bulk: This Lump of Coal’s gonna be cut like a diamond!
(He grunts his way through a few more curls as Sunset aims an unconvinced look at the techie, who calmly hooks his thumbs under his suspenders and pulls them out a bit. Letting go after a moment, he shoots a reassuring grin back toward the stage manager. Dissolve to her in the wings, tapping pencil on clipboard as the electronic background score starts up and rehearsals continue.)
Sunset: (pointing) And…bring in Shiny City!
(The first three actors associated with the scene change dance onto the stage, but the train engineer has been replaced by Bulk, rope in hand and uttering repeated cries of “Hut! Hut! Hut!” The other end is wrapped around the Shiny City flat, and he is hauling it in as Micro rides atop the locomotive.)
Micro: Go! (chanting) Muscle! Muscle! Muscle!
(He jumps down to land next to an impressed Sunset, the music and the procession stopping together.)
Sunset: How’d you convince him to stop and help?
Micro: (holding up Bulk’s magazine) Isn’t it obvious? I fabricated a counter-factual, peer-reviewed, pseudo-scientific study in Insane Lats magazine that postulates the only way to make your shirt uncomfortably tight for the summer is battle ropes. (Pan quickly to Bulk.)
Bulk: (flexing; the locomotive bursts to pieces around him) I battled the ropes, and I won!
(Sunset takes cover behind heir clipboard to avoid the flying debris, while Micro in turn hunkers behind her. Even though one chunk ends up lodged in the red/gold strands, she allows him a half-smirk as he nervously scratches as the back of his head over the unexpected fumble.)
Sunset: (tossing it away, walking off) You are a genius.
(“Iris out” to black, centered on Micro’s face.)
“Constructive Criticism” (CYOE)
Written by Jim Martin; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a sequence of extreme close-ups of various tools being wielded by a pair of gloved hands. A wrench tightens a bolt in a wooden framework; a saw cuts through a plank; a hammer drives a nail home. The exposed swatches of skin on the laboring arms point to Applejack as the one on duty, and a cut to her bears this out. She has donned a hard hat, work gloves, and safety goggles and is poring over a blueprint, which she lowers in time with the start of the next line.)
Sunset: (stepping in through a doorway, sighing with relief) I’m so glad we picked you to be the set designer, Applejack.
Applejack: I’m the only one who applied, so… (She kneels to resume hammering.)
Sunset: And the plans look fantastic. (grinning dopily) Just one thing. One little, kinda huge important thing?
(Long shot. They are on the stage of the Canterlot High gym, a half-built scenery backdrop standing behind them. The frame for another one is laid out flat for Applejack to work on, and the blueprint and a toolbox are within easy reach.)
Sunset: Is this gonna be built in time?
Applejack: Absolutely! (Close-up of them.) Construction’s the quick part. Like I always say— (showing two fingers, then one) —measure twice, cut once. (She prepares to strike a nail, but pauses.) But only after you measure it three more times. (Now she resumes hammering.)
Sunset: (voice raised) Glad that’s not my job! I’d be afraid I’d hammer my finger or something!
Applejack: (ditto) What?
Sunset: (still louder) I said, I’d be afraid I’d hammer my finger or something? (Cut to Applejack on the following.)
Applejack: WHAAT?
Sunset: (from o.s.) I SAID—
(The distinctive sound of case-hardened steel meeting flesh and bone, and the ensuing agonized yell from Applejack, cut off her third go-round. Dissolve to an extreme close-up of two white hands wrapping a light tan one in a thick layer of bandages, then cut to a longer shot. Applejack sits on the laid-flat framework, having removed all her protective gear, and is being attended to by the human counterpart of Nurse Redheart. White skin; blue eyes; pink hair in a bun; pale green sneakers, nurse’s cap, and hospital scrubs. Both the cap and the first aid kit she has placed on the stage bear a logo of a purple cross with a lighter-shaded heart tucked in at each outside corner. Sunset watches worriedly from a few steps back.)
Redheart: (soothingly) You’re going to be fine.
Applejack: Phew!
Redheart: Just stay away from lifting, hammering, cutting, anything set-building-related. (She picks up her kit and leaves.)
Applejack: But the play’s this Friday! (She stands up, all determination.) Don’t worry, Sunset. I still got thi— (She smacks her injured hand into her good one.) — owwww! (Sunset hurries over and rests a hand on her shoulder.)
Sunset: How about we get you an assistant set designer?
Applejack: I guess I could use a hand.
(Prompts for Pinkie, Rainbow Dash, and Photo Finish appear around her along with the usual ten-second timer, and the green eyes slip indecisively from one to another. When the timer reaches zero, it fades away and the view snaps to black around the prompts.)
“Choose Pinkie Pie” ending
(Snap to a long shot of the stage/construction zone and tilt down slightly to frame Pinkie in front of it, setting up her drum kit.)
Applejack: (walking into view) Are you sure you have time to help, Pinkie Pie? Don’t you need to practice your drum solo?
Pinkie: I am gonna practice my drum solo, silly.
(In less than a blink, she is seated behind the kit with sticks in hand.)
Pinkie: (banging them together overhead) A-one, two, three, four!
(She launches into a fast rock solo.)
Applejack: (raising voice) So you can’t help me?
Pinkie: I CAN’T HEAR YOU!
(The pink percussionist somehow manages to slip on a hard hat, work gloves, and safety goggles without breaking rhythm, then switches her sticks for a pair of hammers that she holds up. The solo goes on thanks to a foot that keeps operating the kick pedal of her bass drum.)
Pinkie: I’M BUSY HELPING!
(Now she races up onstage and pounds both tools against one spot after another on the set framework, adding new timbres to the frenetic drum line. Cut to a close-up of Applejack’s feet, one boot tapping in time to the impromptu beat, and tilt up; her face shifts from incredulity to enthusiasm, and she runs up among the flats.)
Applejack: (pointing to a spot) Pinkie! Drum over here!
Pinkie: (hammering it) Okay!
Applejack: (pointing to a doorway) And over here!
Pinkie: (banging around its perimeter) You got it!
(Her next move is to work her way down a long beam and pound in all the nails protruding from it, even turning her back and reaching behind herself to get a couple of them just to show off. A few more in other areas get their tickets punched next, and the solo ends with one final thundering strike. Applejack, completely floored, stares around herself as Pinkie slides over without her tools or safety gear and flashes a set of bullhorns with each hand.)
Pinkie: Thank you, Canterlot High School! (lowering them) What d’you think?
(Long shot. The side walls and backdrop depict a dance club decorated with balloons, musical notes, and a mirrored disco ball; cutouts of tables and a city skyline are set up at the rear, and a multicolored dance floor covers the central portion of the stage beneath the girls’ feet. Pinkie retrieves her sticks from her hair and plays a drum roll against one raised knee as Applejack casts a critical eye in every direction.)
Applejack: I’ll be honest. (smiling; roll stops) I think you drummed up one heck of a set, Pinkie Pie.
(A dazzling grin bisects the pink face, and the sticks tap out a quick sting—two strokes in the air, the third against the brim of Applejack’s hat to knock it down over her eyes. Both share a hearty laugh, the blonde tipping her headwear back into place, and the view fades to black.)
“Choose Rainbow Dash” ending
(Snap to a close-up of Applejack’s hands unrolling her blueprint.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Thanks a bushel for helpin’ me build the set, Rainbow Dash.
(On the end of this, cut to both girls on the stage, Applejack having knelt to lay out the plans.)
Rainbow: You got it, AJ! This is gonna be done before you can say, “Take a look at this blueprint.”
(She dons safety goggles and a hard hat, spinning the latter on her head, and whips out a cordless drill. A quick trigger squeeze to make sure the battery is charged, and she barrels around the stage to start using it.)
Applejack: Well, actually, Rainbow Dash— (pulling plans off her face, blown there by Rainbow) —you really should take a look at this blueprint.
Rainbow: Already did. (pointing at her head) Got it up here.
Applejack: Slow down!
Rainbow: No time!
(She flashes down from the ladder on which she has been perched, her wake pulling the document from Applejack’s hands. On every pass, the view shifts to a closer shot of the discomfited blonde’s face and the sound of high-speed work drifts back to her.)
Applejack: But you need to measure more and cut less! (Pause.) You’re not measurin’ enough!
(Once her face fills the screen, she boils over and the camera zooms out slightly.)
Applejack: STOOOOOOP!!
(The clangor stops and the speed demon pops up next to her, no longer wearing/carrying any of the construction gear.)
Rainbow: What’s up? I’m done, by the way.
(Applejack’s eyes widen as she looks around herself and the camera cuts to a long shot of the completed set, which is designed as a dance club with crystalline walls. Clusters of orange facets stand up at the dark purple side walls, matching the red-orange hues of the backdrop, and a dark purple mosaic has been assembled as a dance floor, softly glimmering in the multicolored lights shining onto it from the front corners. Three disco balls hang above a row of cutout tables and velvet ropes. Applejack gathers up her dropped blueprint for a bit of scrutiny.)
Applejack: Hmmm…this doesn’t look like the blueprints. (smiling, turning to Rainbow) It’s…even better!
Rainbow: Oh, heh. I guess I was looking at the green prints?
(What she holds up is a mélange of dance/music/crystal-themed snapshots that form a rough border around a large picture of a purple dance floor and disco ball with a red-orange back wall. The entire assembly is mounted on a green picture frame.)
Rainbow: Is that what these are? (lowering it) Sorry.
Applejack: (crossing to her) That ain’t a green print, that’s…that’s my vision board! On green paper!
Rainbow: Say what now?
(Close-up of the lot, panning slowly from one side to the other.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Green is my power color. I sketched out all this stuff I wished I could build, but knew I’d never have time. (Cut to her.) And you just built it all!
Rainbow: (winking) Only because I followed your amazing ideas. (Applejack takes the board from her.)
Applejack: Where’d you find this?
Rainbow: Oh, I ran to your house while I was building. (Two suddenly panicked green eyes turn to her.) Your room is a mess, by the way, and your diary was unlocked.
(The eyes narrow into a vicious squint as the face attached to them thrusts itself into hers.)
Rainbow: (grinning hastily) I didn’t read it.
(The tension breaks as quickly as it came, both girls having a belly laugh. “Iris out” to black, centered on Rainbow’s face; after a moment, the aperture reopens to frame her now-sheepish visage.)
Rainbow: Okay, I read it.
(Big dopey grin; “iris out” again.)
“Choose Photo” ending
(Snap to Applejack and Photo standing on the stage amid tools and supplies. The shutterbug has donned a hard hat and gloves and traded her usual sunglasses for safety goggles tinted opaque magenta.)
Applejack: All right. So what we got here is a basic disco layout with a light-up dance floor and recessed cans to backlight the performers.
(The camera has shifted to a close-up of her by the time she finishes, after which a gloved blue hand shoots into view and waggles at her. This gesture is accompanied by a shushing noise from the o.s. Photo, the finger goes to the lips, and the camera cuts to frame both again.)
Photo: Mouth closed, please!
Applejack: (muffled, holding up blueprint) But how am I supposed to tell you what to do?
Photo: (backing off, gesticulating grandly) With your heart, Applejack! Open it, and let Photo Finish feel where the light needs to be. Und then the set will be built where the lights are not.
(A snap of the fingers brings her two assistants on the bound to pick her up and carry her off the stage.)
Applejack: Sooooo…what do I do?
Photo: You’re already doing it!
(Lights are swiftly deployed on free-standing tripods and mounted to the set backdrop as Photo rolls across the gym floor, lying on a mechanic’s wheeled dolly. She has the thumb and forefinger of each hand extended and held up before her eyes to form a frame.)
Photo: Yes! Can’t you feel it? (Cut to Applejack, totally bewildered, onstage.)
Applejack: Feel what?
(The camera nut leaps down to her from a giant disco ball as it swings by.)
Photo: The passions!
(One assistant winks from the floor; Applejack starts to comment, but Photo cuts her off with a gloved finger to her lips.)
Photo: Shhh! It is time.
(Zoom out slightly. Except for her and Applejack at center stage, and the other two at the back corners, the area has been completely cleared out.)
Applejack: (sputtering a bit) What? This doesn’t look anythin’ like it’s supposed to.
Photo: (pulling her closer) You are looking with your eyes! Look with your heart!
Applejack: (backing off) You’re makin’ less sense than a jackrabbit on roller skates.
(Photo pivots away from her and lifts a remote control in one hand.)
Photo: Behold!
(One button push douses all the lights and brings the newly placed machinery to life, sending out networks of varicolored laser beams that reflect off banks of carefully adjusted mirrors. Within moments, the shining shafts have traced out walls and a floor to match the outlines of the set pieces Rainbow built in her ending. Applejack marvels at the instant, insubstantial set decoration in close-up.)
Applejack: Whoa. Thank you so much. (Flash of a camera; Photo races into view carrying one.)
Photo: That look! That is why I do this! (Finger snap.) I go!
(She makes good on that statement by peeling out in a white/magenta blur, and Applejack—now alone on the stage—smiles gratefully after the unconventional team. Fade to black.)
“Opening Night” (CYOE)
Written by Kelly D’Angelo; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an overhead shot of the stage in the Canterlot High gym. Zoom out slowly to show the floor seats filled with students talking excitedly amongst themselves; the lights are out except for illumination that covers the stage from end to end. Cut to a slow pan across the occupants of the front row, then to the stage as the curtains open—a performance of Dazzled is starting. The scene is the kitchen area of a small cabin, backed by crudely painted scenery flats that depict walls and a cast-iron stove. Flash sits at a table: work boots and shirt with rolled-up sleeves, pants with suspenders, white beard. Twilight stands nearby, stirring a pot of food: severe long-sleeved blouse with ribbon tie, high-waisted skirt that reaches to the ankles of her boots, hair in a bun. Both have had touches of makeup applied to add age lines to their faces. Rarity stands facing them: glittery, short-sleeved purple dress with light pink lace trim under a white apron, magenta ankle-length boots with high heels. All three wear hard hats with headlamps, Rarity’s sporting her three-jewel clip. She is portraying lead character Selfie Soot, while the other two are her parents. She and Twilight deliver their lines with Southern accents, Twilight adopting an appropriately crotchety tone.)
Rarity: Ma! Pa! I have got to leave this humdrum, do-nothing, lump-o’-coal town! (shaking hips) I am going to be the best disco dancer that Club Amethyst has ever seen!
Twilight: (ladling coal onto Flash’s plate) Bury those silly dreams in a slag heap, Selfie. Only fools try to make it big in Shiny City!
(She swings the pot for emphasis, nearly whacking Flash upside the head; he ducks just in time, and she shoots him an apologetic sidewise grin. Rarity casts her eyes dejectedly toward her feet in close-up, the background dissolving behind her to the mine-tunnel set seen during rehearsals in “All the World’s Off Stage.” A spotlight picks her out.)
Rarity: (gradually breaking down) How will I ever become a disco dancer when all I know is coal, coal, coal?
(Bulk leaps and pirouettes into view on the end of this, clad in dark tights, ballet slippers, and chunky costume/cap in his role as Lump of Coal—mentioned in that same short. He catches her as she collapses in a sobbing heap; a brief flash from just above their heads, and a put-out Rainbow is lowered into view to dangle above the stage, a second spot following her. She is kitted out in a long, pale blue dress and conical hat, the former decorated with yellow stars and collar bow that match the hat’s sash tied under her chin, and is wearing fairy wings and a large, tattered work boot that covers her midsection. One hand carries a star-tipped wand. Her entrance is greeted by a round of puzzled stares from the audience and one boy’s soft cough.)
Rainbow: Your canary tears have summoned me, my child. It is I, your Fairy Boot-Mother!
(Awed ooh’s and aah’s from the crowd; Bulk sets Rarity upright and dances off the stage.)
Rainbow: Do not despair, for all coal turns to diamonds!
(Close-up of a chunk of coal on the end of this. Sunset reaches into view from behind a set piece, swipes this item, and replaces it with the glittery boots that were the focus of “Rarity Investigates: The Case of the Bedazzled Boot.” A pinch of glitter is tossed up before Rarity retrieves them, voicing a giddy laugh and earning a round of applause. From here, dissolve to the set change to Shiny City as seen in “All the World’s Off Stage,” the electronic dance accompaniment starting up. Rarity, now wearing the magic boots, pink hoop earrings, and a knee-length sleeveless dress striped in vivid pinks and yellows, leads those four actors—two miners, a cart, and an engineer with locomotive—across the stage as the new backdrop is pulled steadily in behind them. Its motive power turns out to be the one-wheeled robot Twilight designed, placed in the wings near a most apprehensive Fluttershy in miner costume. She glances fearfully at the script in her hands as Snips and Snails ease into view behind her, still wearing the dark clothing they adopted for their backstage work in that earlier short. Snails shoves Snips into Fluttershy, only for Applejack’s hands to reach into view, lock onto both boys’ heads, and drag them bodily out of sight. Snips has just enough time for one surprised yelp before he goes bye-bye, and Applejack steps out to rest a hand on her friend’s shoulder.)
Applejack: How’s Coal Miner Number Two doin’?
Fluttershy: Thinking of calling in sick.
Applejack: Don’t be nervous. It’s only one line. All you have to do is ring that bell and say, “The mine is closed.”
Fluttershy: (faintly) “The mine is closed.”
Applejack: Yeah, that, but…maybe a little louder? (Applause; she pushes Fluttershy forward and takes the script.) Heh. Go get ’em!
(The timid teen steps to center stage, now set as a mountain village, and stops by a bell tower. Twilight and Flash have watched Rarity board a bus, miners Apple Bloom and Scootaloo stand across from them, and Fairy Boot-Mother Rainbow dangles from the rafters. The stage lights go out and a single spot shines down on Fluttershy, pinning her in place under a glare that makes one blue-green eye screw up in pain for a moment. She takes a deep breath and reaches for the rope tied to the bell’s clapper—and then a bit of roughhousing between Snips and Snails knocks a rope loose from its peg on the wall backstage. As Applejack grimaces in wordless terror, having put the script aside, the line hisses through an overhead pulley and drops loose, allowing the bell to fall from the top of the tower and embed itself in the stage with a thundering clang. A shocked gasp from the audience, a shudder from Fluttershy, a gasp from Twilight; cut to Sunset backstage, in the dark outfit and headset microphone she used while directing the run-through in “All the World’s Off Stage.”)
Sunset: Oh…
Applejack: Fluttershy needs our help!
(Prompts for her, Twilight, and Sunset and the ten-second timer appear around Fluttershy. She shivers in place during the countdown and looks from one to another as if wishing she could dive through one of the panes and get out of this living nightmare. After the timer reaches zero, it fades away and the view snaps to black around the prompts.)
“Choose Twilight Sparkle” ending
(Snap to the frozen stage tableau, Fluttershy whimpering and shaking in the throes of fear with feet riveted to the boards. Sunset skids into view in the wings at her end of the stage and waves frantically for attention, having donned her pendant now. Establishing eye contact with Twilight, she wiggles her fingers in a “make with the magic” gesture but gets only a puzzled head shake in return. Her next idea is to hold up an imaginary bell and pull its rope, but this too gets her nowhere. Finally she settles on the direct approach and points at her own pendant; the purple eyes pop in sudden comprehension, and a shimmer of power surrounds the violet fingers as they surreptitiously levitate the bell out of the wreckage. The clapper swings to and fro to ring it in the process, eliciting a chorus of confused murmurs from the audience, and the spotlight shifts to Rainbow.)
Rainbow: Just using my magic here! (tossing glitter, waving wand) Classic Boot-Mother!
(The tone of the murmurs shifts to one of awe, and one last flick of Twilight’s fingers bonks the bell against the side of Fluttershy’s head. She cries out, hard hat knocked askew.)
Twilight: Sorry, sorry!
(Fluttershy grins and waves her off, headwear again on the level, and pulls the rope tied to the clapper to ring the bell.)
Fluttershy: The mine is closed!
(Vigorous cheering and applause sound throughout the gym as all the lights come up, and the view “irises out” to black, centered on her face.)
“Choose Applejack” ending
(Snap to Applejack as she whirls to face Snips and Snails, the latter in a headlock by the former.)
Applejack: Quick! I need a costume!
Snails: (pointing to the side) Uh, we only have one.
(A look of distinct unease comes over the freckled face as the green eyes turn in the direction he has indicated, and she groans and slaps a hand to her face. Cut to the stage; she makes her way in past Bloom and Scootaloo, the spotlight swinging over to pick her out. She has ditched her hat and is now wearing a full-body apple tree costume, her head and arms protruding from the trunk.)
Applejack: Oop, pardon me. Talkin’ apple tree comin’ through. (trying to sound casual) Oh, hello, coal mine! Just me, the magical talking apple tree. R-Remember, Fairy Boot-Mother? You enchanted me?
(The spot pivots to a thoroughly flummoxed Rainbow, who does a little fast thinking of her own.)
Rainbow: Oh…y-yeah! I certainly enchanted you. Heh. That.
(The light shifts back to Applejack and the bell tower. She tries to reach down for the bell without bending her knees, but the height differential and her costume’s bulk make this impossible. After a couple of failed attempts and frustrated groans, she gives up the effort to stay in character and bends over to hoist it back up with one hand.)
Applejack: Well, would you look at that. The bell’s back where it needs to be. (holding it out to Fluttershy) Someone should really ring it. (Long pause; Fluttershy is rooted in place.) Just flutter on over. Don’t be shy.
(The spotlight shifts to Fluttershy as she latches on to the prompt; she smiles and seizes the rope tied to the clapper, shaking it to deliver a series of rings.)
Fluttershy: The mine is closed!
(Vigorous cheering and applause sound throughout the gym as all the lights come up, and the view “irises out” to black, centered on her face.)
“Choose Sunset Shimmer” ending
(Snap to Sunset, who grimaces and runs out onto the stage; the spotlight shifts to her.)
Sunset: (a bit stilted) Oh! (Cut to the audience; she continues o.s.) Coal Miner Number Two! (Back to her.) It is I, the assistant director, um, of the play…of life!
Fluttershy: (aside, to her, gasping softly) This isn’t in the script!
Sunset: (aside) Follow my lead! (aloud, pacing) You’re a genius!
(Cut to a slow pan across the hopelessly confused spectators.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) You crashed this bell on purpose! (Back to her.) For this bell is a metaphor, is it not?
Fluttershy: It is? (The audience again, then back on the start of the next line.)
Sunset: (dramatically, pacing) Whether it’s our families’ expectations to work in the coal mine, or if it’s a fear of the spotlight— (The audience; they start to come around as she continues o.s.) —we all need to let go of what’s holding us back.
(Back to her, now holding a chunk of coal.)
Sunset: (squeezing it in both hands; it crumbles) The pressures of life turn us all into diamonds!
(She accentuates this last work by raising a gem-quality stone in one hand for all to see—either placed within the coal as a prop, or formed on the spot by sheer force and pressure. The sight of it brings appreciative reactions from the crowd.)
Sunset: Come on, everybody! Join in! (waving free hand overhead) Ding-dong, ding-dong!
Twilight, Rainbow, Rarity, Flash: (joining in) Ding-dong!
Applejack / Snips and Snails: (ditto) Ding-dong! / Dong-ding!
Audience: (ditto) Ding-dong, ding-dong! (Back to the stage on the end of this; Sunset has ditched the diamond.)
Sunset: (whispering, to Fluttershy) You got this! (Wink.)
Fluttershy: (grinning jubilantly) The mine is closed!
(Vigorous cheering and applause sound throughout the gym as all the lights come up and bouquets of flowers are tossed onto the stage. In the wings, Snips and Snails have both teared up at the impromptu catharsis.)
Snips: Do you believe in me, buddy?
Snails: (sobbing, hugging him) I do!
(Both of them break down crying as the view “irises out” to black, centered on them.)
“Happily Ever After Party” (CYOE)
Written by Whitney Walls; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an overhead shot of the stage in the Canterlot High gym. The performance of Dazzled seen in “Opening Night” has just ended, and the cast members have lined up to take their bows in front of a wildly enthusiastic audience. Applejack is wearing the apple tree costume from her ending to that short, and Rainbow stands with the others instead of dangling above them in her harness. All the lights are down except for the ones that illuminate the entire stage. A close-up of the group reveals that Twilight and Rarity are already holding flower bouquets given by the audience, and Fluttershy catches one of her own as the camera pans slowly to the Crusaders at the other end. The smiles fade from the three young faces, replaced by expressions of deep dejection.)
(The view shifts to backstage, most of the cast members going their separate ways to leave Applejack, Rainbow, and Rarity standing together. Twilight is still carrying her bouquet, but Fluttershy is not.)
Applejack: Hoo-wee! What’s the lowdown on the after-party hoedown? (The Crusaders enter through the curtains.) I’m ready to throw down!
Rainbow: Is it gonna be the best night ever or what? (Next three lines overlap, all delivered listlessly.)
Bloom: Suppose so.
Scootaloo: Eh.
Sweetie Belle: Perhaps.
Rarity: Whatever is the matter, girls? I thought you were excited for this soiree.
Sweetie: We were. We even put together a super-special slide show of all the great memories we made while doing the play.
(Cut to Applejack and Rarity as she finishes; a warm smile passes from one face to the other.)
Scootaloo: (sourly) But Mr. Cranky Doodle says parties are not an… (making finger quotes, imitating him) …“appropriate appropriation of his expensive projector.”
(A calculating look makes its way onto Rainbow’s face.)
Rainbow: (to Applejack/Rarity) Maybe one of us can turn that heart of coal into a diamond!
(Dissolve to the Crusaders. Prompts for the three older girls appear around them, accompanied by the ten-second timer, and the six puzzled/skeptical eyes rove from one to another. At zero, the timer fades away and the view snaps to black around the prompts.)
“Choose Applejack” ending
(Snap to a close-up of Applejack, seen from behind and back in her everyday clothes and peering through the window of a closed classroom door from the hall. Cranky Doodle sits grading papers at the front desk within.)
Applejack: (turning away from door) If he’s gonna be stubborn about it, so can we!
(These last three words are accompanied by a longer shot that puts the Crusaders on the receiving end of her words; they are also back in their civvies. Cut to inside as she opens the door and strides brightly in.)
Applejack: Hey there, Mr. Cranky Doodle! I heard you won’t let us borrow your projector for our party. (The Crusaders peek in.)
Cranky: You heard right.
Bloom: (to Scootaloo/Sweetie) Ooh, she’s gonna have a good old-fashioned stubborn-off!
(Scootaloo gasps excitedly and points upon glancing off to one side; cut to the trio’s perspective and zoom in on the back wall. Here, on a countertop, is the overhead projector they are after—a compact model, easily small enough to fit under one arm. Back to Applejack and Cranky.)
Applejack: I’m askin’ nice. (To the doorway; the Crusaders slip/crawl in.)
Cranky: (from o.s.) The answer’s no. (The front desk.)
Applejack: Not leavin’ without it.
Cranky: You’re gonna be here a while. (The girls, now crawling to the projector.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Fine by me.
Cranky: (from o.s.) Talkin' overnight. (Up front on the end of this.)
Applejack: Got a sleepin’ bag.
(At the back, the Crusaders quickly tape a flashlight to the top of a cardboard box that is roughly the same size and shape as the projector.)
Cranky: (from o.s.) Floor’s not comfortable.
Applejack: (from o.s.) Air mattress, too. (Scootaloo grabs the loot and plants the decoy.)
Cranky: (from o.s.) You’ll hyperventilate.
Applejack: (from o.s.) Got an air pump. (They start to tiptoe out, watching the face-off intently.)
Cranky: Won’t let you plug it in.
(Scootaloo’s knee jostles a chair; she freezes and Cranky leans over the desk for a closer look, but Applejack positions herself to cut off his direct line of sight.)
Applejack: Foot-powered.
Cranky: You’ll get a cramp.
Applejack: (straightening up) Eat bananas for potassium. (The Crusaders make their escape.)
Cranky: They’re—not—in—season!
(Satisfied that he has delivered the last word, he stands to full height with arms crossed and tilts his nose into the air. As a result, he misses the wink and thumbs-up that Bloom gives her older sister from the doorway.)
Applejack: You’re right. I can admit when I’m beat.
Cranky: Ha!
(He sits down to resume his grading, and Applejack takes her leave of him. Dissolve to one of the school’s music practice rooms, fully decked out for this after-party: plenty of guests, balloons, banners, snack table, and so forth. The Crusaders and all the Rainbooms save Sunset have congregated at the risers, all in their normal clothing and Fluttershy holding Spike in her lap. Like the yellow girl, Twilight is no longer carrying the bouquet she received at the play’s end.)
Rainbow: (to Crusaders) Great party, you guys!
(Cut to a rolled-down projection screen on the opposite wall; now Sunset can be seen among the crowd.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Yeah…good times.
(Zoom in slightly as the lights dim and a slide is shown: Bulk holding a swooning Rarity as Rainbow dangles overhead. They are in character as Lump of Coal, Selfie Soot, and the Fairy Boot-Mother, respectively. Assorted squeals of delight are heard as two more images come up: Twilight nearly clocking Flash in the head with her cooking pot during the opening scene…Tree Applejack trying unsuccessfully to get hold of the dropped bell without bending her trunk. The view then cuts to a long shot of the room’s closed doors, which are thrown open from outside by an irate Cranky.)
Cranky: Hey!
(Instant dead silence throughout the whole gathering. Cut to an extreme close-up of his glowering mug, then zoom out quickly as he breaks into a big smile and holds up the flashlight that the Crusaders used as part of their decoy—now detached from the box.)
Cranky: Thanks for findin’ my flashlight.
(He aims it into his own eye and flicks it on and off a couple of times to make sure it works.)
Cranky: (wistfully) I’ve missed this.
(And off he goes, the doors slamming shut behind him. Following a round of confounded “did that just happen?” looks, Applejack, Rainbow, and the Crusaders break into a gale of laughter. Fade to black.)
“Choose Rainbow Dash” ending
(Snap to an extreme close-up of one of the papers Cranky is grading.)
Cranky: (from o.s., marking red X’s) Wrong…wrong… (Cut to him, at his classroom’s desk.) …right, but… (Sound of the door opening.)
Scootaloo: (as the Crusaders rush in, wearing everyday outfits) Mr. Cranky Doodle, come quick! There’s a full-blown math emergency backstage!
Cranky: A math-mergency?!? (Door closes.)
Bloom: Sweetie Drops fixin’ to take the square root of negative one!
Cranky: It’s worse than I could have imagined!
(All four cross to the door, Sweetie opening it for him as Bloom and Scootaloo push him out.)
Cranky: I say “I” and “imagined” because…
(Sweetie is the last to exit, the door swinging toward its frame behind her—but a soccer ball is pushed into view from the hall to wedge it open. With the teacher well distracted, Rainbow jumps into the room, lands in a crouch, and proceeds to roll to the back and up to the front desk. She has changed back into her regular outfit. Taking cover beneath the desk’s edge for a split second, she stands up to do a fast bit of recon and spots a television set and videocassette recorder on/in a cabinet at the front corner. She pulls open the drawer beneath the VCR but finds only a partially eaten donut; this is examined in extreme close-up, the view briefly contracting to a horizontal bar around the wary red-violet eyes. Darting back to the desk, Rainbow goes into another roll and comes up behind it. She tries a drawer, which yields a handheld gaming device and an assortment of dice for role-playing games, and stands up for another look around. A moment’s head-scratching leads into a gasp of realization; she flashes across the room and opens one of the cabinets under the countertop at the back wall. The same compact overhead projector seen in Applejack’s ending rests inside.)
Rainbow: (picking it up) I’m just gonna borrow this.
(Dissolve to the music practice room, where the after-party is in full swing and everyone has donned their everyday threads and put away any congratulatory bouquets as in the “Choose Applejack” ending. Snips and Snails are having fun stuffing cookies into each other’s mouths, Pinkie and Sunset are at the far end, and the rest of the Rainbooms are hanging out at the risers, Spike sitting in Fluttershy’s lap. The lights dim and an image comes up on the room’s projection screen, showing the two inept stagehands tangled up in the rigging ropes, and gives way to Pinkie’s balloon-based design for the Shiny City set with the four actors from that scene dancing in front of it. Next: Applejack and Rainbow laughing it up, the former with her hand bandaged from her mishap in “Constructive Criticism.” Rarity sighs happily and turns to Rainbow as Pinkie crosses past them, eating a cupcake from the tray she carries.)
Rarity: Looks like they threw a splendid party after all.
Rainbow: They just needed a little coaching. (Both laugh, but cut themselves off with sudden concern.)
Rarity: Where are those girls, anyway?
(Nowhere to be found at the party, if the long shot of the room is any indication. Dissolve to a close-up of the Crusaders, standing backstage in the gym and looking very, very uncomfortable.)
Scootaloo: Uh, we gotta get back to—
(A longer shot tells the rest of the story: Cranky has set up a rolling blackboard for their perusal and chalked it thick with equations.)
Cranky: Ah-ah-ah! Here’s where the problem really shifts into high gear.
(He turns to the board, talking more to himself than to them as he resumes working—giving them the ideal opportunity to slip away during the next line.)
Cranky: Take that solution and plug it into this function, and the square root of the sum of the second prime number divided…
(His words fade away in time with the view fading to black.)
“Choose Rarity” ending
(Snap to Rarity and the Crusaders standing outside Cranky’s classroom, all back in their street clothes.)
Rarity: Don’t worry, girls. In the fashion industry, there is no room for compromise— (donning her orange-framed reading glasses) —and I happen to be an excellent negotiator.
(This last word is spoken with a “see” sound on the third syllable as in British English, rather than the “she” used by American speakers. Cut to just inside the room as she opens the door and strides up to face Cranky, the Crusaders heading for the desks; the compact overhead projector seen in the other two endings sits on his own. She adopts her best high-handed, lawyerly tone of voice.)
Rarity: Good evening, Mr. Cranky Doodle.
Cranky: (groaning) Hello, Rarity.
(She begins to pace as the younger girls watch from the front row, adjusting her glasses to peer over them from time to time.)
Rarity: I am here representing the Cutie Mark Crusaders. I understand you are denying them the use of a projector.
Cranky: (pulling it toward himself) Yes! My projector!
Rarity: Uh, let the record show that Mr. Cranky Doodle has identified the projector in question.
(Cut to the Crusaders on the end of this; Sweetie writes furiously in a notebook as Bloom and Scootaloo trade knowing nods.)
Rarity: (pacing) So, if I am understanding you correctly, this is your projector.
Cranky: Yes.
Rarity: And you take it home with you when the school day ends.
Cranky: Well…no, I can’t do that. I—
Rarity: Mmm—that’s right. You can’t do that, can you? (Cut to Cranky, off guard; she continues o.s.) In fact, this projector cannot leave the school premises— (Zoom out to frame her pointing into his face.) —because it isn’t your projector at all.
(Cut to the Crusaders.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) It is the property of Canterlot High School— (Collective gasp; back to her and Cranky.) —a public school funded by hardworking taxpayers such as Applejack and myself! (leaning toward him, tapping projector) So technically, is this not the taxpayers’ projector? (tapping his forehead, then it) My projector! Applejack’s projector!
(This argument earns her a three-way of triumphant smiles from the audience.)
Cranky: (barely audible) Uh…
Rarity: Therefore, did you not lie under oath when you identified it as your own?
Cranky: (sputtering) I didn’t take an oath! (He indignantly stands up.) You’re out of order!
Rarity: This whole projector situation is out of order! (snatching it off desk) I’m confiscating it as evidence. (All four students head for the door.)
Cranky: Wait! It’s expensive, and it could be damaged if not cared for properly. (Pause.) Also, I pay taxes too!
(Rarity pauses in her exit, shooting him a sly look as the Crusaders continue with theirs.)
Rarity: Mmm—you think you’d feel more comfortable if someone were there to supervise it?
(Dissolve to the music practice room, the after-party going in high gear as in the other endings. The Crusaders are sitting at the far end of the risers, and everyone is back in casual wear; as before, Fluttershy has Spike in her lap.)
Sweetie: We did it! (All three trade high fives; Rarity crosses to them, having shed her specs.)
Rarity: Ah! Delighted we could reach a settlement. (She sits.) In exchange for the projector, he could attend the party to supervise said projector.
(On the end of this, she gestures across the room and the sound of its slide-changing mechanism is heard in time with the lights dimming. Cut to the projection screen on the opposite wall, showing Pinkie about to start her combined drum solo and set-building spree in “Constructive Criticism.” Cranky dances in front of it, alternately donning and removing a lampshade as students clap to keep the beat. Rarity smiles as the Crusaders giggle at the spectacle, and the view fades to black.)
“Road Trippin” Written by Gillian M. Berrow
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a close-up of a pile of musical instruments and storage cases. They are resting at the back of the Rainbooms’ tour bus as seen in “Get the Show on the Road.”)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Instruments?
(Zoom out quickly to the front, framing the other six girls belted into the seats. Daytime sky is visible through the windows.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Check. Band members?
All others: Check!
(A clipboard is raised into view, held in the bookworm’s hands, with two items checked.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Directions to Cousin Goldie’s party? (marking off a third) Check.
(Cut to her at the front, seen from the waist up; the top of Granny Smith’s head is just visible to her right.)
Twilight: Perfect! (checking her cell phone, adjusting glasses) We’re a little behind schedule, but if we get on the road in the next thirty-seven seconds, we’ll make it just in time to go onstage for Goldie’s party.
(She is met with a round of cheers and whoops as she moves to take a seat and buckle herself in, the camera panning/tilting down slightly to frame the Apple matriarch in the driver’s seat. The wrinkled green face sports a pair of eyeglasses with flip-up sunglasses attached. After a bit of fumbling with the seat belt, she gets it fastened and starts the engine.)
[Note: Except where indicated, everyone wears a seat belt while on the bus.]
Granny: Buckle up, Rainbooms!
(She pulls the darkened lenses over her eyes with a devilish grin and peels out, while Twilight aims a satisfied glance at her phone, whose screen shows a ticking clock. Almost immediately, though, the bus screeches to a halt behind an unmoving car; to the sound of discordant honking, the camera pans ahead to put them on the wrong end of a monster traffic jam. Inside, Sunset undoes her seat belt, stands up for a better look, and flops back down with a moan once she sees the extent of the congestion.)
Twilight: Don’t worry. The GPS has accounted for traffic. (Cut to Granny, shades flipped up.)
Granny: GP-what now? I don’t need that ninny new-fangly thing-a-ma-jig-a-bee. I know me a shortcut!
(A hard spin of the wheel sends the bus into a lurching turn; the girls’ seat belts the only thing keeping them from being flung against the windows. To the sound of a lot of panicked yells—with a “Whee!” from Pinkie mixed in—the brightly painted vehicle veers off the highway and through a gate that gives onto a forested dirt road. It is a bumpy ride indeed, made even more severe by Granny’s outrageous speed, and the girls’ lungs get a good workout as several of them brace themselves against the seats to avoid being jostled too badly. Pinkie, of course, is enjoying it no end.)
Pinkie: Woo-hoo! Step on it, Granny!
(The pop of a punctured tire, the squeal of brakes, and a noticeable sinking of the bus all occur at nearly the same moment. Cut to just outside the windows; Pinkie peeks out, the camera tilting down to the offending flat just before Twilight’s telekinesis grips it and the entire bus rises a few inches. A zoom out shows Applejack lending her super strength to the job, having stepped out, and a longer shot frames Twilight with her. The flat is quickly exchanged for a spare, the bus is lowered, and both girls hop in as Pinkie closes her window. Once the trip has resumed, cut to Twilight inside; she eyes her phone with concern at first, but quickly smiles—just before another sudden stop.)
(Long shot of the bus, its path blocked by a herd of lazily grazing cattle; Fluttershy has stepped out to address them.)
Fluttershy: Um, excuse us. Sorry to interrupt your lunch, but do you mind?
(The bovines quickly disperse, Applejack and Rainbow having leaned out from one side to watch; on the other, Twilight gestures frantically at the phone in her hand. Fluttershy boards, the windows close, and the bus zooms off down the dirt road. Inside, real worry starts to take hold on Twilight’s face as the clock continues to count down, but a new problem soon asserts itself in the form of a fallen tree blocking the way. Almost as soon as Granny has skidded to a stop, Pinkie leans out the window, goes into the windup for a pitch, and lets fly with a magically souped-up piece of candy. It detonates on contact with the trunk, blowing away a wide enough section for the bus to hurtle through. Inside, Pinkie settles back into her seat and addresses Rainbow.)
Pinkie: If a tree falls in the woods and then gets sprinkle-blasted to bits, did it ever really exist?
Rainbow: Pinkie, I love your riddles, but— (pointing frantically ahead) —BRIIIIDGE!!
(Cut to her perspective, framing a barricade closing off the road dead ahead, and zoom in through the windshield to give an all-too-clear view of the collapsed bridge beyond this. Back to Granny.)
Granny: (flipping sunglasses down) Hold on to your horses, girls!
(A shift of gears, a stomp on the accelerator, and the camera cuts to a close-up of one rear tire as the kick of horsepower causes it to throw up curtains of dust. The bus goes airborne off the top of a ridge, terrified screams from within ripping the air, and the sound and view both shift to slow motion. As before, Pinkie is the only one of the seven passengers to actually get a rise out of this motoring madness, as seen when the camera briefly cuts to them. Outside again; the bus clears the barricade and hurtles toward the bridge-out—and then the view shifts to a profile of it and a scenery flat that has been painted to resemble the road hazard. A movie crew is set up on the solid ground just beyond it, and normal speed and audio resume as the bus smashes through and barrels past them. Pinkie has her window open.)
Pinkie: Sorry! (fading out) I love your work!
Stagehand: (to crew) Tell the props department we’re gonna need another bridge!
(Inside, Twilight checks her phone once again.)
Twilight: Only thirty more seconds!
(Its clock is about to run out, and she has barely lifted two freaked-out purple eyes from the display before the bus slams to a halt in front of a log cabin in a clearing. Set up next to it are a star/rainbow-decorated stage and a dance floor festooned with hay bales and strings of lights. People, cows, and cats have congregated on both the floor and the surrounding grass. A figure stands on the stage; in close-up, it proves to be this world’s counterpart to Granny’s elderly cousin Goldie Delicious. The sun is now setting.)
Goldie: Please welcome…the Rainbooms!
(The seven girls begin hustling onto the stage, instruments at the ready, as she descends from it and crosses to Granny. The highly unorthodox driver has seated herself on a bale, flipped up her shades, and procured a bottle of soda. A cat is perched on Goldie’s shoulder by the time she makes her way over.)
Goldie: How was the drive, dear? (She sits.)
Granny: (picking up another cat) Aw, pfft! Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy.
Goldie: (taking it away, setting it down) Don’t you go squeezin’ my Lemon Squeezy. That’s my favorite cat.
(The two oldsters give each other a hairy eyeball for a moment before bursting into laughter. All seven Rainbooms are now onstage and ready to play, and Pinkie taps her drumsticks together to count off a beat. Fade to black as they start into a tune.)
“X Marks the Spot” Written by Kara Lee Burk
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a close-up of a cell phone whose screen displays a pirate game as it is carried along a beach. Taps and swipes carry the swashbuckler along an obstacle-strewn seashore and into a cave, and a longer shot discloses the user as Sunset, strolling the sand on a sunny day. Toes strike against a half-buried bottle, bringing her up short with a surprised grunt and causing her to lose the game. She regards it curiously; a close-up picks out a parchment that has been rolled up and stuffed inside, and she kneels to pick it up.)
Sunset: What the…?
(An intrigued smile crosses her face. Cut to Twilight and Pinkie elsewhere on the beach, the former touching up a sand sculpture of Spike, the latter relaxing on a towel under a beach umbrella with radio and MP3 player at hand.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) Check this out! (running to them, phone put away) I found an actual, real-life message in a bottle!
Pinkie: (standing up) Ooooh! Is it a love letter? A secret recipe? Or wait! (getting worked up) Someone’s trapped on a deserted island! WE HAVE TO SAVE THEM!! (Sunset extracts the sheet and shows it to them as Twilight stands.)
Sunset: It’s a treasure map!
Twilight: It looks just like this beach!
Pinkie: Amazing! Let’s go!
(Wipe to an overhead shot of the beach, styled as a map with gridlines and various landmarks and obstacles drawn in—lifeguard booth, rocks, logs, and so on. The camera pans to follow tiny figures of the three girls as they are variously waylaid—Twilight by a stray dog, Pinkie by several wandering crabs, Sunset by stumbling through the logs. Varied yelps and cries of discomfort accompany their travails, which end with them hopping across a patch of hot sand and scrambling toward a pier. Wipe to a close-up of this structure as they reach the base of its support timbers; Sunset is no longer carrying the parchment.)
Sunset: (slightly winded) Look! There it is!
(They stop at a barnacle-encrusted chest that juts from the sand beneath the pier.)
Sunset: I wonder if it’s filled with loot!
(She is quick to kneel over it. Two yellow-orange hands eagerly swing the lid back, lift out a second bottle, and extract the document it holds.)
Pinkie: The treasure is a treasure map!
(Cut to Sunset’s perspective of the sheet, panning slowly from left end to right; it shows a dotted-line path interspersed with foreign characters.)
Sunset: (reading) “Follow the trail to the top of the M-F-B-O and look for the X at the end of the…” (Back to her; she gasps happily.) It’s a code! (fishing in chest) If only we had a… (She pulls out a…) …decoder ring!
Twilight: (to Pinkie) Well, that’s convenient.
(It is flat, with a rotatable disk mounted to an outer housing, and Sunset holds it alongside the map so she can sort it all out.)
Sunset: (reading) “Follow the S-H…shells…to the…pier…and look for the X at the end of the R-A-I…rainbow!”
Pinkie: (pointing past her) Look!
(Cut to a close-up of the shadowed sand across from the three and tilt up slowly to show that…)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) There’s a trail of shells!
(They end at a set of steps leading up from the beach; cut back to the girls, who laugh and beat feet. Within seconds they have made it up to the boardwalk that runs along the shore and slowed to a walk, Twilight bringing up the rear and Sunset no longer carrying the map.)
Twilight: This is the pier. Now where’s the—
Pinkie: (pointing off to one side) Rainbow!
(All three charge off in the indicated direction. Cut to a close-up of a multicolored snow cone mounted on the roof of a truck; behind it, a happy fish holding a pair of chopsticks lounges in a bowl of rice atop a second vehicle. Zoom out to frame both parked side by side as the girls approach; the snow cone truck pulls away to fully expose the sushi vendor. Hanging among the menus is a sign of a fish framed by two large X’s; a mat emblazoned with an X covers the patch of pavement in front of the counter. A rather bored-looking young woman in a chef’s short-sleeved white jacket, eyepatch, pirate hat, and one gold hoop earring lounges among the wares.)
Twilight: (puzzled) X Marks the Sushi? (They approach.)
Sunset: Excuse me. Do you know anything about a treasure map? (The vendor perks up.)
Sushi vendor: (exaggerated pirate inflection) Arrrgh! Con-garrrgh-ulations! Ye mateys followed ye map to find the bounty of X Sushi!
Sunset: Yes! What’s our treasure?
Sushi vendor: Twenty parrr-cent off any hand roll, plus all-ye-can-eat wasabi! Arrr!
(Sunset grimaces at the distinctly underwhelming nature of the prize in close-up, Twilight framed alongside her.)
Twilight: (squinting, adjusting glasses) That’s it? (Pan to frame a giddy Pinkie.)
Pinkie: The treasure is a sushi truck! That’s amazing!
(Cut to a long shot of the truck and pan slowly to follow the trio walking away from it. Each is carrying the promised hand roll, which consists of a piece of seaweed rolled into a conical shape and filled with sushi ingredients. Twilight is munching away at hers, but Sunset is more occupied with wrapping her head around this one-off treasure hunt. Close-up of these two.)
Twilight: Mmm…mmm! I like it!
(The last member of the triumvirate lurches toward them—face flushed a deep red, eyes watering, tongue hanging out, fanning madly at her mouth to cool it off from the liberal dose of wasabi on her food.)
Pinkie: Ahhh…ahhh…so spicy!
(The hand roll hits the deck as green flames blaze up in the eyes and from the mouth, and she races across the lot and plunges her entire head into the nearest fountain to put out the fire. A little girl regards her with some bafflement as she lifts her sodden head from the water with a shudder of profoundest relief. Twilight and Sunset share a giggle over their friend’s comical discomfort, and the view fades to black.)
“Aww…Baby Turtles” Written by Kara Lee Burk
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow and Rarity having their own brands of fun in the sun during the day. Fluttershy and Rarity snooze on side-by-side beach chairs, the latter shaded by an umbrella and wearing her dark sun hat, while Applejack and Rainbow toss a beach ball back and forth. Rainbow’s pet tortoise Tank sits by her feet, all his appendages pulled into his shell. A brief, faint whimpering causes Fluttershy to snap out of her blissful indolence with a gasp.)
Rarity: Is everything okay, Fluttershy?
Fluttershy: I don’t think so. I hear crying!
(Cupping a hand to one ear allows her to focus on the disturbance. Pan quickly to the source: a very young sea turtle emerging unsteadily from a hole in the sand to collapse face-down. A second one only gets its head and front flippers into the clear before running out of steam. Back to the four girls; the game of catch has paused.)
Fluttershy: (standing up) From a bunch of baby sea turtles! (hand to ear again) They just hatched and are trying to find their way to the water, but they’re lost!
Rarity: Oh, no!
Fluttershy: Ooh…how could I ever find a bunch of teeny-tiny turtles on this great big beach?
(Cut to an overhead close-up of her on “great,” then cut to a longer shot on each of “big” and “beach” to frame all of it. The camera then cuts back to her as Rainbow blurs over with Tank in hand.)
Rainbow: Tank here is a tortoise. Maybe he could help us? (The wrinkled green head peeks out at Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: Hmm…that’s not exactly the same, but it’s worth a try.
(Dissolve to a close-up of a patch of sand as Tank is set down, then cut to Fluttershy and Rainbow behind him.)
Fluttershy: Lead the way, Tank!
(A still-longer shot frames all four girls lined up and watching the slowpoke expectantly. The action and sound shift to ridiculously high speed, with the sun and clouds scudding across the sky and beachgoers blurring past in all directions. The frenetic pace only sharpens the glacially slow speed at which Tank shifts one stumpy foot forward, then another, and normal speed resumes as Rainbow voices an exasperated groan at her pet’s behavior, snatches him up, and disappears in a vivid blaze.)
(Dissolve to a close-up of him being carried along; he shades his eyes to peer across the beach, then points to one side with a smile. He has brought the girls to the shelter of an overhang and the hole from which the baby turtles were surfacing; it is now empty, and six of them are clustered fearfully together.)
Rarity: There they are!
(One pulls its head free of the sand and sneezes out a few grains.)
All four: (tenderly) Awww… (Rainbow sets Tank down; Rarity squats and reaches toward one.)
Fluttershy: You did it, Tank!
Rainbow: So…what do we do now?
Fluttershy: We just need to help them get to the water safely. (pointing aside) Just…
(Pan quickly to each of the following four impediments in turn.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s., with growing unease) …over this sand dune, past those rocks and crabs… (One of which is brandishing a plastic knife.) …beyond that abandoned sand castle city…
(The biggest castle of this lot is overgrown with seaweed, flying a tattered banner, and occupied by an irate crab.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) …and around that dangerous shipwreck!
(Half-buried among the dunes and cocked at a crazy angle. Back to the group once she finishes; Rarity straightens up.)
Fluttershy: (gasping deeply) Oh, boy.
Rainbow: (bending down to turtles) Don’t worry. We’ll just carry them to safety.
Fluttershy: We can’t!
(On the end of this exchange, cut to a close-up of one reaching blue hand—which gets stopped by a set of yellow fingers as the baby beneath it squeaks in tiny fright—then back to the four. Fluttershy has knelt alongside Rainbow and the turtles.)
Fluttershy: They have to make the journey on their own so they can imprint— (Close-up of the turtles; she continues o.s.) —and return to this beach when they lay their own eggs someday. (All four again.)
Rainbow: (standing up) Well, then, the least we can do is help clear a path for them.
(She jogs off, leaving Tank behind and grabbing up a discarded toy shovel, and is followed by the other three in short order. A magic speed boost allows her to rip a passage clear through the sand dune, but a click of plastic against plastic brings her to a puzzled stop on the other side. At her feet, the crab with the knife has procured a plastic shaving razor as a secondary weapon. Rainbow jinks left and right almost too fast to follow, scooping up all the belligerent crustaceans on the shovel blade and bulldozing them away.)
(Meanwhile, Applejack has found the precariously stacked rocks that had Fluttershy so worried; she lifts one tower with her super strength and pitches it aside. Rarity conjures a gem construct and brings it down horizontally on the biggest of the abandoned sand castles to mash it flat, only for the crab that had been occupying it pop out and give her a piece of its mind. The shipwreck turns out to be only a broken model, small enough for Fluttershy to pull free with one hand and toss over her shoulder. Behind her, the sky over the ocean is beginning to darken toward sunset.)
Fluttershy: (wiping hands) That’s it! The path is clear! (spreading arms wide) Go, baby turtles! Be free!
(There follows a long moment in which exactly none of said turtles follow her prompt, due to the fact that they are nowhere to be found.)
Fluttershy: Um...adorable tiny turtles?
(The girls hurry back to the overhang from which they emerged, but find only a string of footprints leading away from their nest hole and no sign of…)
Rainbow: Tank? (noticing trail) Fluttershy, look! The trail in the sand!
(Close-up of some of the prints, tilting up from them to a mass of reeds that blocks the view.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Tank?
(Her hands push through from behind and part the vegetation to give everyone on that side a good view of events. Cut to their perspective: the prints lead to Tank, who has ushered the infants to the water’s edge.)
Fluttershy: Tank led the babies! (Back to the group.)
All four: (tenderly) Awww…
(All four step out to the shore, Fluttershy patting the grown turtle’s shell as the six young ones chitter happily among themselves.)
Fluttershy: Well done, Tank!
(He beams as best he can at the babies’ attempts to overwhelm him with hugs.)
Fluttershy: (giggling) They think Tank’s their mommy.
Applejack, Rainbow, Rarity: (tenderly) Awww…
(Five of them are soon in the water and swimming away, and he noses the sixth in after them. A tear courses slowly down from one shimmering black eye as they paddle their way toward the sunset, and the view “irises out” to black while staying centered on his wizened face.)
“Lost and Found” Written by Kate Leth
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to Applejack and Rainbow resting on side-by-side beach chairs under an umbrella during the day. Each has an appropriately decorated surfboard planted front end up in the sand, Applejack’s hat is tilted over her eyes, and Rainbow has donned sunglasses. Pan slowly across the pair.)
Applejack: (contentedly) Ahhh, summer. (Close-up; hat and shades are tipped back.) You know, there’s nothin’ like kickin’ back and enjoyin’ the—
(Her perspective of the cheery sun on the end of this; it is swiftly blocked out by the arrival of a distraught Rarity. The two white hands are initially clapped to the temples, but come down for a panicked wave that exposes an earring with a small violet bow dangling from only her left ear.)
Rarity: Complete disaster! (The sunbathers again; Rainbow removes her shades.)
Rainbow: Are you okay, Rarity?
Rarity: (sobbing) My earring’s gone! A one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable work of art! (calmly) I should know. I made it.
(Back to the audience, whose combined patience quickly starts to wear thin as she continues.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) I was reapplying my SPF when I realized— (Back to her, pointing to her right ear.) —my ear was…
(A few choked little sobs escape through her grimacing, locked teeth as the frightened blue eyes above them dart from side to side.)
Rarity: …naked! I don’t know what to do! (crying, mascara running) It meant so much to me, and…and…
Applejack: (smiling, rolling eyes) If you want our help, just ask. (Rarity darts to her, face clean and instantly all smiles.)
Rarity: Oh! Would you mind? (hoisting up three metal detectors) I took the liberty of getting some equipment.
(No points for guessing who gets to use the one studded with tiny blue gems. Wipe to a slow pan that follows the three-teen procession along the beach, detectors at work and with the attached headphones socked over ears to listen for the signal of buried objects. Of the three, Rarity is the only one now bareheaded. Close-up of Applejack.)
Applejack: (voice raised) Any luck? (Zoom out; she is addressing Rainbow.)
Rainbow: (ditto) Not so— (She gets a squeal and stops; normal volume.) —wait! I got something!
(She sets her detector aside as Rarity zips over with an expectant smile and gasp.)
Rarity: Could it be?
(A quick turn of a shovel, a blue hand plunged into the hole, and the jock finds herself holding up an ice skate by its laces. Applejack goes back to scanning.)
Rainbow: (standing up from hole) Close, but not quite. (She drops it back in; Applejack’s detector sings out.)
Applejack: Hold your horses! Now I’m beepin’!
(She pitches the gear aside and stabs the shovel blade into the sand, using her magic strength to excavate a considerably larger hole. Rainbow drops to her knees at its edge and puts a hand in as the farmer slings the sand away.)
Rainbow: Now that is definitely a—
(Rarity is there in an instant with a giddy gasp, but again it turns out to be a bust—a horseshoe, which Rainbow holds up with a deflated sigh.)
Rainbow: —false alarm. (Tap impatiently at the iron.)
Rarity: (sighing, smiling shakily) Well, not to worry. We’ve got plenty of time.
(Dissolve to a mélange of items piled haphazardly on the beach—the results of the girls’ search, including a chest filled with gold coins. Two dissolves grow the collection in steps and advance the sky into late afternoon, adding such oddities as a wrecked flying saucer and a quantity of gold bars.)
Rarity: (from o.s., throwing her headphones into the pile) I can’t believe this!
(Zoom out. All three stand before the lot, none carrying their detectors; the other two still wear the headphones for theirs, though. Rainbow has ditched the horseshoe Applejack unearthed.)
Rarity: We’ve combed the entire beach and found nothing! Nothing! (dejectedly) I’m sorry I’ve wasted your entire day.
Applejack: (brightly) Are you kiddin’? We haven’t even done half the beach.
(Both glance down the shore, Rarity with considerably less enthusiasm; cut to their perspective, panning slowly across the untouched, unoccupied expanse.)
Applejack: Who knows what else we’ll find?
(Back to the three. After a bit of rummaging through the castoffs, Rainbow digs up a decrepit cell phone that is several years out of date and regards it with amused curiosity.)
Rainbow: What even is this? (Chuckle.) The sand is full of mysteries!
Rarity: But the sun’s going down. (sighing, tearing up) I guess it’s a lost cause.
(A piteous sniffle and whimper spark a brainstorm under the wild-colored tresses.)
Rainbow: Oh, hold that thought! (She zips over and hands Rarity the phone.) And this.
(Farmer and fashionista can only stare in utter bewilderment as the speedster begins to circle the junk pile fast enough to become only a striped blur. One item after another is flung free, missing their heads by the thinnest of margins, and after several seconds Rainbow stops and lifts a triumphant fist. Rarity has done away with the phone by this point.)
Rainbow: Hah. Got it! (crossing to them, holding up an earring) How’s that for service?
(Well and good, except that this bit of jewelry is a dangling hoop set with small gems.)
Applejack: Uh, that’s not it. (to Rarity) Is it?
Rarity: It’s…not. (touching Applejack’s arm) But thank you—both of you. (Rainbow scrapes at the sand with a toe and drops the earring in the hole.) I had a wonderful day just the same. (picking up her headphones) I’ll just take one last sweep.
(Something falls away from the right side of her head as she settles them over her ears. Her breath catches in her throat, and a close-up of it landing at their feet picks it out as the missing earring. Applejack and Rainbow regard it and then her with combined disbelief and annoyance at what has just proven to be a colossal waste of time. Rarity is now wearing her sun hat over the headphones.)
Rarity: (picking up earring) Ooh! Found it!
(She offers a weak, placating chuckle before the view “irises out” to black, centered on her face.)
“Too Hot to Handle” Written by Laura Hooper Beck
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the sun in a bright blue sky. Tilt down to frame several crabs within a makeshift pen whose walls are built up from the beach sand. Rarity stands with her back to the camera, working on something at a table set with brochures, while Rainbow is on duty at a desk covered with telephones. Both are shaded from the sun, as is a nearby chair with a cooler in easy reach, and strings of pennants run from one to another. Fluttershy is presiding over the tableau, and Pinkie has donned her everyday outfit and covered it with the crab costume she used while babysitting Lily Pad in “Pinkie Sitting.” Cut to a close-up of Fluttershy and Rarity on the next line, revealing a few miniaturized pieces of jewelry on the table at which the designer is doing her thing.)
Fluttershy: Thanks for helping with the crab adopt-a-thon, everyone.
Rarity: Oh, not a problem. My whole life has been leading up to this moment.
(She spins to face her friend, holding up a crab in a frilly new frock.)
Rarity: Voilà! (Close-up of it; she continues o.s.) Crustacean couture! (Back to her; Pinkie slides over.)
Pinkie: Oo-la-la! (picking up a tiny tiara) Let me help!
(She kneels to crown one of the penned critters, but gets an angry pincer nip on the hand.)
Pinkie: Ouch! (Close-up of it; she tries again—a near miss—and continues o.s.) Ow!
(After a third retaliatory strike, she stands up without the tiara.)
Pinkie: (backing off) Actually, how about I help away from the crabs? (Idea.) I could get us a snack. There’s still an hour until the shaved ice stand closes. (Next two lines overlap.)
Fluttershy: Oh, yum!
Rainbow: Sounds great!
Pinkie: Cool! I promise I’ll be back before it starts.
(She exits the scene by scuttling sideways and adding the sound of the skittering legs for good measure. Wipe to her, out of costume and back in her swimsuit, plunking down a few bills at a vendor’s counter to buy a tray of four rainbow-striped snow cones.)
Pinkie: (enraptured) So sparkly.
(Away she goes. A longer shot picks out her bare feet and establishes the vendor as the snow cone truck that appeared briefly in “X Marks the Spot.” She happens across a woman and her son, whose treat falls out of its cone as he licks at it. He has barely enough time to start whimpering before a pink hand offers him one of the four fresh ones, instantly lifting his spirits. Mother/son and Pinkie go their separate ways, but the latter is almost immediately beset by a flock of pesky seagulls.)
Pinkie: Hey!
(One of them swipes a snow cone, leaving two on the tray; after an irked glare skyward, she shrugs and smiles.)
Pinkie: Still works.
(She descends the steps to the beach, the soles of her feet instantly flushing deep pink upon contact with the scorching sand. Extreme close-up of them, starting to jitter madly.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Ow! (Back to her.) Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot!
(A backward hop takes her to the relative safety of the steps, from which she snarls and shakes a fist at the treacherous stretch of silica. She finds herself at a loss for ideas on how to traverse it until a runaway beach ball bounces to a stop right in front of her.)
Pinkie: Ahhhh!
(The party enthusiast jumps to balance on it and nimbly maneuvers along with her feet to reach a forest of beach umbrellas.)
Pinkie: (jumping from one to another) Boingy, boingy, boingy!
(Now she vaults up to grab hold of an airborne kite and ride a gust of wind.)
Pinkie: (laughing) Whee! (It falls apart; she drops like a rock.) Wha—?
(Cut to the other three girls and the ongoing crab adopt-a-thon. All the little snappers in the enclosure have been kitted out in Rarity’s high fashion, as has the fifth on the table before her. Pinkie’s rising yell of panic makes itself heard an instant before a crash shakes the camera and she slides into view on her face. One hand still grips the tray with its remaining two snow cones, but a close-up pegs them as lost causes due to the sand now embedded in them. She has fared no better.)
Pinkie: Nailed it!
Rainbow: You made it! (Pinkie stands up.)
Pinkie: Barely! You’ll never believe what I had to do to get these back un-melty.
Rarity: (wiping forehead) Right on time. I hate to say it, but these crabs are getting awfully…
Rainbow: (warningly) Don’t.
Rarity: …crabby! (Cut to Fluttershy, now standing over the pen.)
Fluttershy: Aw, they’re hot, poor things. (Close-up of two, steaming and sweating; she continues o.s.) If only we had a way to cool them off.
(Back to Pinkie, who has brushed herself off and tamed the errant strands of her hair. Those big blue eyes flick between the ravaged treats and the pen a few times until she gathers her resolve with a heavy sigh.)
Pinkie: (setting one cone in the pen) Do you…want this?
(All four crabs scuttle across and eagerly start chomping down pincer-loads of the sweet stuff.)
Pinkie: I’m sorry, everyone. (Rarity returns the crab she has been outfitting to the enclosure.) I wanted to have enough to share.
(Close-up of the last cone on the end of this, then cut to the girls.)
Rainbow: (patting Pinkie’s shoulder) No worries, Pinkie. I got this.
(A split second is all it takes for her to clear out and return with a fresh tray of snow cones, the sight of which causes Pinkie to gape and let her last one hit the sand with a wet plop. However, she quickly brightens up and helps herself along with everyone else. All share a laugh as the view “irises out” to black, the aperture pausing briefly to frame one crab that digs into the dropped snack before closing altogether.)
“Unsolved Selfie Mysteries” Written by Nina Daniels
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a slow pan along the beach and the people taking advantage of the fine day. Twilight, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Sunset have clustered in together, Pinkie holding her cell phone aloft and aiming it at the group in preparation to take a “selfie” photo. Close-up of them.)
Pinkie: Say “Cheese Sandwich”!
(A click and flash, and the image is framed on the screen.)
Pinkie: Okay, once more with Gruyère! (Twilight peers intently at the display.)
Twilight: (tapping at it) Wait! What’s that splotchy thing in the background?
(Cut back to the screen on the end of this and zoom in on a vague dark shape floating in the water behind them, near a jutting horse-head rock formation. It bears a vague resemblance to a seahorse’s head. After a long moment, the camera cuts back to the four as they pivot to train their eyes out over the breaking surf.)
Sunset: It’s a sea monster! We just caught it on camera!
Twilight: (patting her shoulder) Hold on. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.
Pinkie: A sea monster? I gotta see it to believe it— (gleefully, leaning out from behind Sunset) —but I already believe it! (Big squeaky grin.)
(A pulse of light from Fluttershy’s pendant prompts her to wrap one set of fingers around it and cup the other to one ear, extending her animal-communication power as far as it will go.)
Fluttershy: But I don’t hear anything.
Sunset: Something’s out there, and I’m gonna find out what it is. Who’s with me? (Fluttershy holds her diving mask and snorkel behind her back.)
Pinkie: (waving) Ooh, over here!
Fluttershy: (donning the gear) I’ll go. Maybe I can hear it better underwater. (She sets the mouthpiece in place.)
Twilight: (walking away) You guys go ahead. I’ll do some investigating of my own around the beach.
(Wipe to a close-up of her, elbows propped on a railing and with binoculars raised to eyes.)
Twilight: Hmmm…
(Zoom out. She is standing outside a lifeguard’s lookout booth manned by Timber Spruce—red swim trunks, white shirt marked by a life preserver, gray baseball cap with a four-point compass rose overlaid on two laurel boughs.)
Timber: (playfully) Whatcha looking for?
Twilight: (scowling, lowering binoculars) Answers.
Timber: Huh?
Twilight: (smiling, patting his shoulder) Don’t worry. (peering through binocs again) I’ll let you know when I have them.
(His hand movements during this exchange reveal that he still wears his original leather bracelets even while on duty. Deciding to humor the inquisitive teen, he shrugs with a smile and walks away. Cut to Pinkie and Sunset, the former donning swim fins and the latter wearing a diving mask and snorkel of her own. The mask is up on her forehead, and she has added a string bracelet to her right wrist and stripped off her beachwear skirt to reveal a swimsuit bottom in the same dark gray as her top.)
Sunset: Hurry! We have to move quickly so it doesn’t get too far away!
Pinkie: (putting on a mask/snorkel) I’m ready!
(Sunset starts toward the water, only for a pink arm to shoot out with no warning and bar her way.)
Pinkie: I’m not ready! Where’s my floatie?
Sunset: There’s no time!
(Pinkie’s response is a lung-bursting gasp, prompted by the slow approach of the seahorse-looking bulk. Cut to Twilight’s perspective of it through her binoculars, which re-focuses in time with her soft gasp, then to her.)
Twilight: Oh, no! (She lowers then and straightens up at the rail.) My friends! Sunset Shimmer! Pinkie Pie!
(Passing them hastily off to Timber, she sprints down the ramp from the lookout’s platform with him close behind.)
Twilight: Watch out! (All four gather on the sand.)
Sunset: We saw it! We saw the monster again!
Twilight: I know! I saw it too! (Pinkie stares out to sea.)
Sunset: See? I told you! It was real!
Pinkie: It’s not only real— (pointing) —it’s right there!
(Now it is only a few yards out, in the shallows, and Timber capitalizes on his lifeguard training by voicing a scream of terror and cowering behind Twilight. The unknown life form rises slowly from the surf to the sound of hissing, labored respirations—and a head-on shot frames it in full as Fluttershy, standing upright with water streaming off her hair and wetsuit. Balanced on her head is a deflated floating ring with a duck’s head and a liberal draping of loose seaweed; she removes the lot and shifts her snorkel away from her mouth.)
Fluttershy: I think I caught our monster. (Pinkie shifts from panic to all smiles.)
Pinkie: My floatie! (chuckling smugly) Foiled again.
Sunset: (shrugging, to Twilight) Eh.
(The bookworm’s puzzled glance back at Timber turns to an annoyed one when he steps away from her with a blush, scratching at the back of his head and whistling as innocently as he can. Pinkie takes the toy back from Fluttershy with a joyful shudder and lets all the gunk fall away from it.)
Pinkie: (petting it) I knew you would come back to me.
(“Iris out” to black, centered on its face.)
“The Salty Sails” Written by Whitney Ralls
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a sailboat moored at the end of the beach’s pier during the day. A flight of steps leads down from the elevated structure to a small dock platform where the boat rests. Twilight is astern at the wheel, Pinkie stands at the bow, and a sun-hatted Rarity is pushing a large trunk alongside, stuffed so full that the lid will not close. A slow zoom in picks out the life jacket that Twilight has donned over her swimsuit, and a close-up on the start of the next line shows that Rarity is wearing one as well.)
Twilight: Life vests, on. (pulling out a map) Nautical dictionary, memorized.
(Her perspective of it, tracing a route that weaves through assorted hazards to stop on one of several islands.)
Twilight: And course, set. (Head-on view of all three; Pinkie wears a life jacket and is checking a mooring rope.) Smooth sailing ahead. Ready about!
Pinkie: (lifting a basket of pastries, holding one out) I’m about ready for a snack. Care to try a caramel cream puff?
Twilight: (shaking head, waving her off) Mmm-mmm.
(Stepping aboard, Rarity creates a flat gem platform beneath her trunk, floats it onto the deck, and sits on it as she speaks.)
Rarity: Oh, it is serendipitous that we’re setting sail— (removing hat, fanning herself with it) —because I am winded. (Pinkie crosses to her.)
Pinkie: What’s in the trunk, Rarity?
Rarity: (putting hat on) Hm? Oh, just a change of clothes and a coat in case it gets chilly. (Pinkie eases away, whistling idly.) Also a small folding table, various tools, a fashion reference library, and a bag of gems. (hopping off trunk) You know, the essentials.
(Only now does she realize that she has lost her audience.)
Twilight: (putting map away, rolling eyes) The essentials, right. My calculations accounted for the weight of the boat, but I forgot to account for Rarity.
(A telekinetic twinkle shifts the full-past-bursting luggage back onto the dock, much to the pale girl’s surprise.)
Rarity: Hmph!
(Pinkie is at the bow again, one foot propped on the railing and without her load of goodies.)
Pinkie: (dramatically) At sea, nothing’s accounted for. Its tides are fierce, but sublime—as beautiful as they are chaotic.
(The somber mood evaporates in a blink as she climbs down, unties the mooring rope, and tosses it aside.)
Pinkie: Cast away! (The boat drifts slowly forward.)
Twilight: (to Rarity) Don’t worry. I checked the weather. (counting down on fingers) We should expect a strong westward gale in three…two…one…
(It comes right on cue, sending the craft surging backwards and prompting her to yell in fear. A glance beyond the stern informs her that they are within seconds of running aground.)
Twilight: We’re going the wrong way! Ready about! (Cut to the others, flailing/grabbing each other to stay upright; she continues o.s.) Tack! Jibe! (Back to her.) Am I the only one who memorized the nautical dictionary? (adjusting wheel) TURN!
(The two passengers pull apart as comprehension hits.)
Pinkie, Rarity: Ohhh!
(With a weak laugh, they hurry to the stern and seize hold of a cable that runs from the sail’s boom to a pulley mounted on the rail.)
Twilight: We’re way off course! (pointing to one side) Tack north!
(They haul the cable as indicated, slowly pivoting the boom and causing the vessel to shift its heading; close-up of one lower corner of the sail near the bow.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Almost back on track. (Back to her.) If only we could get a little more power…
(A gust yanks Rarity’s hat clean off her head; she gasps and rushes after it, making the catch just short of going over the bow. The wind inflates it to ridiculous proportions in her hands, with the effect of greatly smoothing out the boat’s course—at least until a wave begins to grow directly in their path. The screen tiles itself with three panels, each of which gives a close-up of one girl yelling in fright, then cut to Pinkie in the lurching stern, accompanied by another round of shouts. The map is torn from Twilight’s hands and swept away in the high winds.)
Twilight: (gasping, reaching futilely after it) My meticulously plotted chaaaaart!
Pinkie: (dramatically) Surrender to the sea!
(Cut briefly to the bow on the end of this—bearing down on the horse-head rock formation that appeared in “Unsolved Selfie Mysteries”—then back to the hapless mariners, now all tumbled to the stern. Rarity has recovered her hat and plunked it back over the violet curls.)
Pinkie: (gasping, pointing) A rock! (standing up) I mean, rock ho!
(The bow again on the end of this, followed by the girls’ terror-stricken screams and a cut back to Twilight and Rarity hugging each other. Pan from them to Pinkie, who gets a sudden burst of inspiration and acts on it by hoisting her basket of treats. She snatches one, charges a bit of magic into it, and lets fly, it splashes down just ahead of the boat and explodes underwater, creating a wave that pushes them back hard just before they can smash on the rocks. Dissolve to the dock, where the wave peters out and deposits the boat and its waterlogged crew. Wooziness gives way to a round of good-natured laughter at the absurdity of the day’s travels. Rarity’s trunk is right where Twilight dumped it.)
Twilight: (removing glasses) Whichever way the wind blows, I guess it’s not off course— ((putting them back on) —as long as you’re with your friends.
Rarity: (reaching into trunk on dock, fishing out towels) Especially if your friends have towels.
(Cut to the bow. Pinkie has tied one around her neck for a cape, and she lets it stream behind her with a foot propped on the railing and her basket in one hand.)
Pinkie: (dramatically) The ocean—vast, mysterious, wide. We may never fully understand her, but nonetheless she commands respect.
(Biting into a snack, she gives up the old-salt shtick in record time.)
Pinkie: Ooooh! Salted caramel!
(The rest of it goes down the hatch, and she licks her chops as the view “irises out” to black, centered on her face.)
“Blue Crushed” Written by Kate Leth
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rainbow standing on the beach during the day. Applejack and Rainbow are barefoot and have their surfboards propped up in the sand, as seen in “Lost and Found.”)
Rainbow: You sure you don’t want to try it, Fluttershy? You can use my board.
Applejack: You’ll be hangin’ ten in no time—twenty, even.
Fluttershy: Oh, no, no, no, no. I’ll leave that to the experts like you and Ra—
(The rest of that sentence dies on her lips as all three faces stare straight ahead, dumbfounded. Cut to an approaching, shirtless male figure, seen from the chest down and silhouetted by the sun. Patterned orange trunks, bare feet, a surfboard tucked under one arm and showing a seashell at its nose and a lick of flame at its tail, and skin in a familiar shade of green. The feet stop, the board is planted into the sand, and the camera tilts up as the figure becomes fully illuminated. It is Zephyr Breeze, wearing the beaded bracelets and cutie-mark medallion as seen in “Overpowered” and a pair of sunglasses.)
Zephyr: Who’s ready for a lesson in the fine art of the crush? (propping shades on forehead) Afternoon, ladies. (Back to the girls on the next line.)
Fluttershy: My brother?! (Rainbow chuckles scornfully.)
Rainbow: Zephyr Breeze? Since when do you surf?
Zephyr: (chuckling) Since always! (pointing out/hugging board) I mean, look at this deck, Gladys. She’s my pride and joy. She and I have been together for what seems like a lifetime.
Fluttershy: (skeptically, crossing to him) No, you haven’t. You only just—
(He cuts her off with a finger to her lips. Applejack has her own board under her arm by this point.)
Zephyr: —waxed her this morning? Yes, it’s true. (The board gleams in the sun.) See that shine? She’s ready to seize the waves, so to speak. (Applejack groans softly to herself, then smiles calculatingly.)
Applejack: Let’s quit hollerin’ and hit the water, then!
Zephyr: (suddenly unnerved) What’s that now?
Rainbow: (hefting her board) Come on, Zephyr! Show us what you and Gladys can do!
(She races toward the waves, followed closely by Applejack, and the two leave Zephyr chuckling sheepishly in their wake.)
Zephyr: (small voice) Okay.
(Lifting his board overhead, he hurries after them; his older sister rolls her eyes wearily and lets her lips curve into a smug smile. Cut to a pan across the water and stop on a long shot of the three paddling out, each kneeling on his/her own board, as a swell starts to build.)
Applejack: Whoo! (Close-up; she and Zephyr get upright.) Looks like a big one! (to him, challenging tone) How would you tackle it?
Zephyr: Me? Uh, well, to be honest, I think it’s best to start smaller. (Applejack rolls her eyes.) You girls probably aren’t ready—
Rainbow: Here it comes!
(She surprises him greatly by darting ahead. Applejack’s evaluation is quickly proven correct, as the wave has built up a considerable height, and she and Rainbow waste no time in surfing to the top of its crest and doing a midair flip to ride down it again. Their exclamations of wild joy are mingled with a yell of panic from Zephyr, who barely avoids being flung from his board by grabbing madly at its tail. He is no longer wearing his sunglasses.)
Rainbow: (to Applejack) Isn’t this great? The waves today are just killer!
Zephyr: (as he is thrown free) That’s what I’m afraid of!
(He disappears into the tunnel created by the top of the breaking wave as it curls in on itself; meanwhile, Applejack and Rainbow cruise smoothly out of it.)
Rainbow: Zephyr?
(Dissolve to the beach, where he sits drenched and miserably huddled under a towel. His board stands over him, as do Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rainbow—now all wearing their flip-flops. A few other spectators have gathered, including a rather irked female lifeguard who evidently got the job of rescuing him. Zoom in slowly.)
Applejack: Why on earth would you try to hack it out there without knowin’ how? You coulda got hurt!
Zephyr: I did! (Pause.) My pride, that is. Wounded.
(His weak attempt at a suave grin is met by a three-part disgusted groan.)
Rainbow: Zephyr…
Zephyr: (overwrought, standing, taking her hand) I know. I’ve shocked you all. (The towel falls from his shoulders.) But, Rainbow Dash, if you could find the strength to forgive me, and the courage to keep from hopelessly falling for my m—
(She yanks her hand back with a revolted grunt.)
Zephyr: (humbly) Maybe you could give me some tips?
(He lets his eyes go big and soft and shiny to reinforce the effort.)
Rainbow: (sighing wearily) Fine! (patting his board) But I’m only doing this for Gladys. (whispering to it, caressing surface) He doesn’t deserve you.
(Fade to black.)
“Turf War” Written by Laura Hooper Beck
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title screen, then in to the busy beach during the day. Timber is on lifeguard duty, and the camera pans to frame his elevated booth fully as Applejack runs over. She has traded her usual swimwear for a high-collared, short-sleeved green crop top and a pair of deep red trunks, both emblazoned with a life preserver, and has shed her flip-flops. Stopping by the platform’s ramp, she begins a series of limbering-up exercises.)
Timber: Ahoy, Applejack. Whatcha doing?
Applejack: I’m the substitute lifeguard today. I’m ready to dive in headfirst. What’s the plan?
Timber: (descending ramp) Well, there’s not much to do so far, so just take a load off.
Applejack: That’s not my way. Gotta be prepared.
Timber: Oh! (Chuckle.) Me too. It’s just that my time at Camp Everfree taught me to trust in myself and be confident—
(A protracted young cry gets him to stop tooting his own horn in a blink.)
Timber: Someone in need! (running across sand) Timber to the rescue!
(By the time he gets within five yards of the water, though, Applejack is stepping out of it and carrying a soaked little girl, whose mother is overjoyed at the rescue.)
Mother: My baby! (She takes the child.) Oh, how can I ever repay you?
Applejack: (tipping hat) Just doin’ my job, ma’am. (to Timber, as mother/child leave) I got here first, so I just took care of savin’ that kid for you. (thumping his arm) You’re welcome.
Timber: (rubbing it) Ow! Heh. You didn’t have to.
(He cuts his eyes away with a trace of resentment, only to have his sulk turn into a grunt of surprise when a scream issues from the direction of the waves.)
Timber: (running out) I’ll handle this!
(The source this time is Lyra Heartstrings, flailing to keep her balance on a surfboard in the shallows. Timber wades out and pulls her upright with ease.)
Timber: See? This is the kind of lifesaving instinct I developed at Everfree.
(On the end of this, zoom out to frame Applejack, who looks away with a measure of disgust before yet another cry rings out. The topmost scoop of a woman’s triple-decker ice cream cone slips its moorings and goes overboard.)
Applejack: (removing/throwing hat) Giddyup!
(The camera shifts to ride with it as she says this—upside down and skimming low over the sand. It slides to a stop in just the right position to catch the falling scoop; the woman boggles as the apple expert steps over, picks up the headwear, and flips the ice cream back into place. Applejack gives the hat a deft twirl and puts it back on, totally missing the woman’s revolted expression at the sight of a long blond hair now matted into the treat.)
Applejack: (as she pulls it free) See, this is what hard work can do.
(Challenging smiles steal onto both lifeguards’ faces and they move in to face each other down at close range. Before the face-off can escalate, though, a male voice grabs their attention.)
Bulk: (from o.s., spluttering) HEELLLP!!
(Cut to just behind them on this word; the muscle-bound youth is floundering several yards out, the inflatable “floaties” on his arms doing not a lick of good. Improbably, he is still wearing his winged baseball cap.)
Bulk: HEEELLLP!!
Applejack, Timber: Got it! (Both break into a run; Applejack is first to reach him, grabbing one arm.)
Applejack: I’ve gotcha! (Timber gets the other.)
Timber: I’ve got you!
Bulk: Huh?
(He finds himself being used as the rope in a tug-of-war as the two try to pull him to safety in opposite directions. The disagreement sends him into a crying jag.)
Applejack: Why are you cryin’? We’re savin’ you!
Bulk: (between sobs) It’s just, I hate to see you fight!
Timber: (straining to pull him) We’re not fighting!
Bulk: (smiling) Really?
Timber: You’re right. We’re kinda fighting—but we’re also saving you!
Applejack: (also straining, but stopping/smiling) Yeah. With my elbow grease and Timber’s know-how, we actually make a pretty good team.
(All three have now come to rest among the breakers.)
Timber: Yeah. I guess we do.
Applejack: Let’s…do this together?
Timber: Deal.
(Bulk, now completely placated, surprises the pair by hoisting them bodily off their feet and sloshing to shore under his own power. He sets them down once they are clear of the water, having exposed a pair of short red briefs as his swimsuit.)
Bulk: Thanks, guys! (A cry from o.s.)
Timber: (to Applejack) Race you? (Both sprint off.)
Applejack: Yee-haa! (fading out, as both laugh) Ah, can’t catch me there!
(Bulk wipes happy tears from his eyes as the view fades to black.)
“Friendship Math” Written by M.J. Offen
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a pair of side-by-side beach chairs amid the sand and sun. Twilight occupies one and reads as Pinkie crosses to the other, barefoot and drinking a soda, and a man in the fore chases after a seagull that has just stolen his snow cone. Pinkie stops short, having noticed a magazine lying open and upside down on the chair.)
Pinkie: Ooooh! (picking it up, dropping soda, sitting down) Rarity left her Canterlot Beat magazine here.
(After a moment’s perusal, she thrusts it toward Twilight to show a certain page.)
Pinkie: Ooh, look! It even has a pop quiz!
Twilight: (alarmed, closing book) A quiz? On what? But I haven’t studied! (She turns to face Pinkie.)
Pinkie: (reading) “Score your friendship levels. Are you BFF’s for life?”
Twilight: (smiling) Okay, I’m in.
Pinkie: “Question one. What’s your best friend’s favorite food?”
(After the bookworm ponders for a moment, both deliver their responses at the same time.)
Twilight, Pinkie: Cotton candy? / Books?
Pinkie: That’s only my third-favorite food, behind cupcakes and regular cakes.
(She produces a cupcake from her hair and chomps it down, to Twilight’s surprise.)
Pinkie: No points. Oh, well. Next question. “Favorite part of school.” It’s—hmmm…
(A bit of hard thought on both sides before they speak up.)
Twilight, Pinkie: Lunch? / Library? (Result: mutual bewilderment.)
Pinkie: Nope. It’s helping the janitor refill the snack machines. Okay, the score is still zero-zero. (leaning briefly sideways toward Twilight) Cool! Samesies! Last question. “What is your friend’s biggest fear?” Is it…
Twilight, Pinkie: Uh…ice cream without sprinkles? / Clownfish?
Twilight: Uh-uh.
Pinkie: Actually, mine is clownfish. But I don’t even want to think about undecorated desserts. (Shudder, then close the magazine cheerfully.) We flunked! (Pitch it over a shoulder; Twilight shoots to her feet.)
Twilight: Flunked?! (bounding over, picking it up) That can’t be right! Are there no more questions? (Pinkie pops up next to her.)
Pinkie: Aw, it’s just a silly quiz.
Twilight: (resolutely, adjusting glasses) You’re right. It’s deeply unscientific. I’ll do my own calculations to empirically prove we’re best friends!
(The view contracts to perhaps a third of its usual height, framing her face in sharp relief.)
Twilight: (hissing, intensely) Forever!
(Pan slightly to bring a thoroughly flabbergasted Pinkie into view, then cut to a fullscreen shot of Twilight back on her chair with a stack of books and a printing calculator. As she studies its output and wipes her brow, a pink hand reaches into view to offer a glass of lemonade. She takes it with a smile and begins to sip from its straw while Pinkie flops down into the other chair to enjoy a drink of her own. Wipe to Pinkie and Lily Pad swatting a beach ball back and forth as Twilight continues her research; the bespectacled girl bats it back to them without missing a word when Pinkie sends it her way.)
(The seagull that stole the snow cone at the beginning of this short flies past, chased by the victim of its theft; behind him, wipe to a close-up of a technical drawing scratched in the sand at Twilight’s feet. She wipes it away with the sole of one flip-flop and stands there cogitating, stick in hand and poised to resume sketching, but Pinkie’s finger snakes into view and daubs a blot of sunscreen onto the violet nose. She turns to her fellow beach bum with a grateful smile.)
(Now Pinkie lies on her beach chair, poking drearily at the sand and flipping from belly to back as Twilight stands reading intently. A loud grumble from the bored teen’s gut is countered with a cupcake offered by her friend, and Pinkie opens her mouth wide so the treat can be inserted whole. Cut to a slow ground-level pan just behind Twilight’s feet, framing a new and considerably more sophisticated diagram to which she is applying a few last touches with her stick, then cut to a head-on close-up.)
Twilight: I’ve got it!
(But the tide chooses this very moment to come in and obliterate her work. A sharp gasp from the o.s. Pinkie; after which she runs over.)
Pinkie: Twilight! Your friendship equation!
Twilight: That’s all right. Our friendship is unquantifiable.
(The pink face’s big frozen grin and mechanical nod swiftly give way to a confused head shake.)
Twilight: (laughing) It just means it can’t be measured.
Pinkie: Oh! (laughing, hugging her) I coulda told you that.
(“Iris out” to black, the aperture shaped like a heart and centered on their faces.)
“The Last Day of School” Written by Kate Leth
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to the domed roof of Canterlot High, the camera aimed up at it from the ground during the day. Tilt quickly down to Twilight and Rainbow facing the front doors as the bell rings, the former clutching a textbook.)
Twilight (panicked), Rainbow (eagerly): It’s the last day of school!
Twilight: NOOOO!!
Rainbow: Yeah!
(Books, sheets of notes, and a clock tumble down past the camera; behind them, wipe to the egghead seated at a cafeteria table and working madly over stacks of papers and envelopes.)
Twilight: (slipping sheet into envelope, closing it) It’s okay, Twilight. You’ve still got four more hours of classes. That’s plenty of time to do extra credit work.
(Rainbow strolls up, lunch tray in hand and sunglasses propped on head.)
Rainbow: (slamming tray down on table, messing up Twilight’s work) Four more hours?!? (slumping into seat) Oh, man!
(She produces a soccer ball and spins it briefly on one finger as Twilight gathers the spilled stationery.)
Rainbow: Might as well be a hundred years!
Twilight: It’s barely enough time to write all my thank-you cards to the teachers! (Rainbow leans casually against her.)
Rainbow: Take it easy, Twilight. (nudging her) We’ll be back in three months. (Zoom in quickly on the violet face, eyes shrinking to points.)
Twilight: Three months??!?
(Clock wipe to Cheerilee, seated behind the front desk in her classroom. Her writing is interrupted by the sudden arrival of both girls, Twilight carrying a stack of papers and Rainbow without the ball.)
Cheerilee: (dryly, clearing throat) Ladies? (Cut to just behind her, framing the pair.)
Twilight: (placing a greeting card on desk) Uh, sorry, Miss Cheerilee. It’s just, Rainbow Dash was—
Rainbow: (leaning toward Cheerilee) Why don’t we watch a movie for the last class of the day?
Cheerilee: (smiling) Oh! That’s not a bad idea, Rainbow Dash.
(Her perspective: the blue face goes slack with shock at this reaction before breaking into a huge grin while the brainiac backs off and sits at her desk with a look of mute horror.)
Cheerilee: No use getting you started on a project this close to the finish line. (Close-up of Twilight as she finishes.)
Twilight: But I still have letters to finish and a collage to make! And maybe I should just rewrite my final exams just in case!
(A vertical panel slides in from the left side of the screen to fill half of it and then some. Within it, Rainbow is at her desk and pushing at the dividing line between her section and Twilight’s as if it were a sliding door, the latter straining to move it back.)
Rainbow: Daring Do Versus the Swamp Monsters! (Twilight shoves her out of view.)
Cheerilee: Great suggestion!
(Leaving her desk, she shuts off the room lights, slots a cassette into a VCR, and presses the play button while Rainbow lowers the tinted lenses over her own eyes. A static-distorted image of Daring Do—as played by actress Chestnut Magnifico, who figured in “Movie Magic”—fills the screen; she stands at the edge of a swamp and brandishes a machete at three slime creatures emerging from it. This can only be an extreme close-up of the television screen on which the movie is running. Twilight pays no mind, writing as if the world might spin off its axis at any moment; meanwhile, Rainbow has put on a set of red/blue 3-D glasses over her shades for good measure. She removes both pairs to throw a worried glance up at the wall clock, which ticks ahead from 2:05 to 2:06, as Twilight works double-time to assemble a collage. Her own look at the clock informs her that minutes are clicking by at an impossibly fast pace—at least in her mind’s eye. Back to Rainbow, who has donned only the 3-D glasses and looks dangerously close to falling asleep at her desk from sheer boredom. The clock snaps ahead from the twenty-fifth minute to the twenty-sixth with agonizing deliberation.)
(On the staticky screen, Daring has lost her machete and found herself surrounded by the slime creatures. Dissolve from her to Twilight, now trying her very best to speed-read two books at once; to her eyes, the clock is rapidly closing in on 3:00. Rainbow, for her part, is now within an ace of conking out altogether and trying not to spill the bag of popcorn she now cradles. Another minute ticks away…Twilight reads a book in one hand and scribbles notes with the other, a tortured little whimper escaping through locked teeth…another minute goes…she whimpers again, eyes and attention wholly on the book…another…Twilight cries out in anguish, her constricted pupils framed in extreme close-up…and the clock hits 3:00 to set off the bell at last.)
(The view splits down the middle and both halves slide away to either side, yielding a split screen of Twilight and Rainbow. The former stands up as the latter wakes up and falls sideways, scattering chair, popcorn, and red/blue lenses all over the room.)
Twilight: (agonized) NOOOOOOO!! (Sit down; Rainbow comes up to her knees.)
Rainbow: Yes!
(As the lights come up and the other students leave, she stands and crosses to the defeated Twilight, who has huddled back into her seat to continue her mad rush of work. A book goes flying over her shoulder as bits of gibberish slip through the clenched teeth.)
Rainbow: (waving hand before Twilight’s eyes) Twi…Twilight…
(No go; the intellectual resorts to hugging her stack of books like a life preserver, one step too far for the blue jock.)
Rainbow: TWILIGHT SPARKLE!! (Who snaps to with a startled squawk.) You know that summer break means you can read whatever you want, right?
Twilight: (slowly catching on) I…can!
Rainbow: (playfully goading tone) Anything. We could even take a trip to… (with great reluctance) …the…public…library.
(Those three words bring a happy gasp to Twilight’s lips, and she allows her friend to pull her up from her chair.)
Rainbow: Come on!
(They charge for the door. Cut to just outside the front doors as all seven Rainbooms burst out.)
Twilight: IT’S SUMMER VACATION!!
(Freeze frame and fade to black.)
“Outtakes” Written by Whitney Ralls
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to Fluttershy setting up a video camera on a tripod. Her rabbit Angel and several other small animals are gathered around her on the floor and in midair, playing with one another.)
Fluttershy: Okay. All set up to make the cutest, most cuddly adoption video ever. (Cut to several of them; she continues o.s.) Once everyone sees what good pets you are— (kneeling to pick up a puppy) —you’ll find your forever homes in no time.
(Cradling it in her arms, she straightens up facing the camera and takes a deep breath to gather herself. The hamster habitat she cleaned out in “Hamstocalypse Now” can be seen in the background, marking this facility as the animal shelter at which she has volunteered in the past.)
Fluttershy: I know exactly what to say. I just have to say it to the camera nice and clear. Yep, just me, Pup-Pup, and the camera.
(Her nerve begins to fail her as she regards her distorted reflection in the lens and swallows hard.)
Fluttershy: (softly, fearfully) Plus the hundreds of people who will watch the video. (Whimper.)
(A flick of static fills the screen and clears to frame her and the dog, Pup-Pup, framed through the camera’s viewfinder.)
Fluttershy: (almost inaudibly) Are you an animal looking for a home? (startled, reaching toward camera) Whoops! Oh…I mean…take two!
(Another burst of static, which subsides to frame her again.)
Fluttershy: Is your home furry? (shaking head angrily, reaching to camera) No, no, no, start over!
(This time, Pup-Pup ends up close enough to the lens to give it a hearty lick.)
Fluttershy: Take three!
(Static, then she stands in view again; the little guy’s drool has been cleaned away.)
Fluttershy: (slowly crumpling to floor, still holding him up) Pets…friend…you…happy…take…t-t-take, take, take…
(Cut to her amid the other prospective pets.)
Fluttershy: (miserably) Ohhh… (lowering Pup-Pup) …maybe I’ll take an entirely different approach—off camera.
(Clock wipe to the rig in her hands and zoom out; she has removed it from the tripod.)
Fluttershy: You guys should be the stars of the video anyhow. I’ll just get some super-cute shots of you guys being your well-behaved, perfect pet selves.
(On the end of this, cut to a slow pan across the floor; Pup-Pup and a gray dog pull a chew toy back and forth, while a kitten rides atop a turtle’s back.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s., thrusting camera toward kitten/turtle) Aaaand…action!
(The sudden move spooks the feline into peeling out, the shellback into pulling in its head and legs, and both pups into clearing off. The gray dog scampers back into view.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) That’s it, Mr. Puppy! (It barks; cut to her, kneeling.) Oh…but where did Kitty run off to?
(She stands, the camera rising to follow her and framing the missing cat atop a storage cabinet. An over-shoulder glance tips her off, and she pivots to it with the camera ready.)
Fluttershy: Come down and play! (Close-up of it; she continues o.s.) Pleeeease? (It shoves a book off the edge toward her.) No?
(Back to her; now a mouse is riding Mr. Puppy across the floor.)
Fluttershy: Okay.
(Every time she shifts position to get a better shot, though, the animals seem to take off on a whole other tangent. One dissolve later, the entire office space is littered with spills of food and water, paw prints on the walls and furniture, scratches where they have no business being, and general critter-induced devastation at all levels. In the midst of it all lies Fluttershy on the floor, utterly spent and with the camera resting near one flung-out hand. The front door opens to admit Twilight and Applejack, the former uttering a soft, surprised gasp when she takes it all in.)
Twilight: What happened?
Fluttershy: (dazedly) They heard the call of the wild. (normal tone, opening eyes) There’s no way I’m gonna finish this video!
(Cowboy boots and chunky-heeled purple shoes step over to her; Applejack picks up the camera, and she and Twilight laugh at what they see on its built-in playback screen.)
Applejack: I think you’ve captured the fun of havin’ a pet perfectly.
Fluttershy: (gasping) You do?
Twilight: (adjusting glasses) Certainly! With a little editing magic, this will make a great adoption video.
(The screen distorts with static and snaps to black, against which a spot of light fades into view to show a close-up of a pitiful-looking Angel.)
Fluttershy: (voice over, sadly) Shelter pets…
(He fades away and is replaced by a spot on Kitty, then Mr. Puppy. This last one expands to fill the screen as the little fellow bounds up to all fours and pants happily.)
Fluttershy: (voice over, brightly) …are the best!
(Flowers rain down to fill the screen; the mouse pops its head out through the center of one, framing itself with the petals. Stars drift past on the next line, the view wiping behind them to show Angel bounding ahead of the turtle, on which another mouse is hitching a ride.)
Fluttershy: (voice over) If you’re looking for a pet, these pets are looking for you.
(Pup-Pup brings up the rear as a bright red heart swells to fill the screen and subsides to show the hamster habitat. Kitty’s face pops up behind a large, transparent spherical junction in the tubular paths, frightening one of the little rodents into bailing out. Close-up of Pup-Pup held by Fluttershy, close enough to the camera to give its lens another tongue bath, then a flash that frames her standing and waving with a bird perched on her head. The lens is clean again, and she is no longer carrying the dog.)
Fluttershy: Come on down to the Canterlot Animal Shelter—
(Zoom out slowly; she stands on its front lawn during the day, turtle tucked under one arm and popping head/legs from the shell. Kitty purrs next to Pup-Pup at her ankles. The exterior is painted in a cheery cloud/sky motif with paw prints trailing along the walls, the orange roof sections are angled to evoke the idea of a doghouse, and the upper story and a sign in a flowerbed bear a logo of a paw print within a white heart. The facility is topped with a weather vane accented by a dog instead of a rooster.)
Fluttershy: —where we have the furry friend that’s purr-fect for you!
(Fade to black.)
“Pinkie Pie: Snack Psychic” Written by Laura Hooper Beck
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the exterior of the 1950s diner that served as the setting for “Coinky-Dink World.” It is daytime, and the camera zooms in and cuts to a pan across the busy interior before stopping on Twilight, Rainbow, and Rarity in a booth.)
Twilight: Whoa! This place is packed! (Pinkie, on waitress duty, skates over with menus in hand.)
Pinkie: Welcome, girls!
(She cuts three deft spins, sliding a menu to a different member of the trio on each.)
Pinkie: Be back soon!
(The wheels carry her over to Flash, sitting alone in a booth and biting moodily into a grilled cheese sandwich.)
Pinkie: Big test?
Flash: Yeah. How’d you know?
Pinkie: (pulling up one slice of bread, letting it drop) When you’re stressed, you always order grilled cheese. (Gasp.) Be right back!
(Off she goes, only to return pushing a very puzzled Twilight just as quickly and abruptly.)
Pinkie: Here! Twi can help you. She’s basically a genius at everything, especially math.
(Said genius puts hand to forehead, having figured out what she is being roped into.)
Flash: (hastily, trying to wave them off) Oh, no, it’s no big deal, heh. (as Pinkie seats Twilight across from him) I mean…only if you have time. (The hyperactive waitress skates away.)
Twilight: So, uh…what are you working on?
(He brings up a textbook and slides it bashfully across the table. At the counter, a girl sits with her face turned partially away from the camera and bites into a burger. A few globs tumble loose just before a pink hand reaches into view to tap her shoulder; she turns her head to take notice of Pinkie standing behind her.)
Pinkie: Hi! (pulling Rarity into view) I want to introduce you to my friend Rarity.
(The customer pivots on her stool to face the pair, exposing blots of ketchup on her clothing.)
Girl: (as Rarity gasps deeply) Uh, why?
Pinkie: (pointing at stains) That’s why!
Rarity: Don’t worry, darling. (Pinkie rolls off.) I can fix this. Do you have glitter on you?
(Gliding to a stop, the human dynamo waves a hand toward her own nose to stir up the air and takes a sniff. Her nose registers the smell as…)
Pinkie: Chlorine! (Sniff again; face falls.) And soup. (slumping, rolling slowly away) Aw, candy corn!
(Four Crystal Prep Academy athletes are in a corner booth, staring dully at the bowls of soup before them as she pulls up tableside.)
Pinkie: Eating soup after the big loss at the swim meet today?
Boy: Yeah. Losers don’t deserve nachos.
Pinkie: That’s not true! (Smile.) Hold on. I know just what you need.
(She blurs away and back, now carrying a tray of nachos which she sets among the bowls; there follows a general lifting of spirits.)
Pinkie: First, you totally deserve nachos for trying. And second… (Out and back again, this time towing Rainbow.) …this is Rainbow Dash. She’s the captain of every single team at Canterlot High. (All four customers murmur their admiration.) She’s the best at turning today’s loss into tomorrow’s win!
Rainbow: (moving toward table) Okay. Here’s the game plan for next week.
(Pinkie cruises down the counter and stops facing a waitress stationed behind it.)
Waitress: How do you do it, Pinkie?
Pinkie: Do what?
Waitress: You always know exactly what everyone needs.
(Over by the jukebox, Rarity is tossing pinches of glitter from a jar over the girl who ruined her own dress. She is now kitted out in a strapless violet ball gown trimmed in yellow and loving every stitch of it. Twilight is carrying on an impromptu tutoring session with Flash, who thinks for a moment before jotting on a sheet of paper and showing it to her. Its display of charts and graphs earns a thumbs-up from Twilight, and both laugh brightly at his success. Rainbow has taken a seat among the Crystal Prep squad and is demonstrating a bit of swimming technique.)
Pinkie: It’s just a gut feeling, you know?
(And hers chooses this very moment to sound off loudly; she giggles over it, and her coworker fishes around under the counter.)
Waitress: Mmm-hmm.
(She sets out a monster of a banana split, enough to push any competitive eater’s stomach to the ragged edge of its capacity.)
Waitress: I know.
Pinkie, Waitress: (high-fiving) Yeah!
(They produce spoons and dig in, voicing a triumphant whoop, and the view fades to black.)
“Five to Nine” Written by Gillian M. Berrow; composed by Mason Rather
Sparse acoustic guitar line backed by swelling synthesizer
Chugging country feel, moderate 4 (A flat major)
Drums/violin/bass enter after two bars; acoustic guitar replaced by electric banjo
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a long shot of the main house and barn of Sweet Apple Acres. The sun is rising over the homestead as the camera cuts to a window inside and pans to a chicken-shaped alarm clock on a nightstand by a bed. It emits a clucking ring, the hands showing 5:00, and Applejack’s pajama-clad arm reaches out to shut it off. She sits up and climbs out of bed for a good stretch.)
Applejack: Before the sun comes up, you gotta start your rocket boosters
(Outside; she opens the window and watches a rooster crow atop one of the chicken coops.)
Rise and shine, I’m feelin’ fine, wake up, Mr. Rooster
(Close-up of her feet as she pulls her boots on, then tilt up. She has traded her usual outfit for a long-sleeved, white-speckled red shirt tied off at the waist and a pair of jeans, and she knots a red kerchief with white polka dots through her loose bun of hair in place of her hat. Pushing her sleeves back to the elbow, she picks up a broom.)
The early bird gets the worm, the sunrise makes me squirm
Double-time feel; vocal harmonies in behind lyrics
(Swing it toward the camera, throwing out clouds of dust that clear to show her hard at the task of sweeping the floor. A spot on the doorframe gets a quick polish with a cloth.)
Oh, keepin’ busy is keepin’ good, keep on goin’ just like you should
(Downstairs; she slides along the banister and hustles out to the porch, barely avoiding a collision with Big Macintosh. He just smiles and shrugs.)
Call me crazy, misunderstood, but you won’t hear me complain
(Scrub the rails and posts; water the flowers; feed the chickens at the coops behind the house. The sky has shifted into the blue of morning.)
Harmonies out; each set of background lyrics is sung under the preceding line
’Cause I got time to spare, fun to share
[Time…Fun…]
My friends along
[Friends…]
All instruments out except bass drum and handclaps
A job well done by the break of dawn
Picking guitar in for four beats as she holds the last word, then full instrumentation
Double-time feel and handclaps end
(Applejack starts sweeping the driveway.)
Applejack: So many things need gettin’ done around the neighborhood
So get to work and get it done before the gettin’ goin’ gets good
(Toss the broom aside; open the barn doors to reveal a scramble of hay, cobwebs, farm and hand tools, boxes, and random junk. Adjusting her sleeves again, she eagerly charges in.)
A cappella for second half of next line only
Most people dread the grit and grime, but elbow grease works every time
Double-time feel; harmonies in
(She sweeps a window clear of dust, then lifts one box with her left arm and a stack of three with her right and hauls them away.)
Keepin’ busy is keepin’ good, to keep on goin’ just like you should
(Now having loaded a wheelbarrow full of hay, she gets ready to wheel it out but is surprised by the emergence of three chickens from the heap. Her next move is to grab up old tarps from three different locations, startling a hen perched on one of them.)
Call me crazy, misunderstood, but you won’t hear me complain
(A hose with a spray nozzle is used to strafe a wall and instantly clean a filthy window, after which she skates across the floor with soapy scrub brushes strapped to her boots and then runs a mop along the ceiling.)
Harmonies out; each set of background lyrics is sung under the preceding line
’Cause I got time to spare, fun to share
[Time…Fun…]
My friends along
[Friends…]
A job well done by the break of dawn
Double-time feel ends; handclaps in
(She nails a banner into place over a window, through which the night sky can now be seen.)
Applejack: (spoken in rhythm) Count my chickens, milk the cows
(A few squawks make themselves heard; next she sets up strings of pennants and hanging candle lanterns among the rafters, with bunches of flowers for accent, and wipes dust from her hands.)
Hang those lights, I’ll show you how
(Now back at ground level, she strings up smaller multicolored lights, having already set tubs of apples and flowers on some hay bales and laid a plank across others to make a refreshment table. Long streamers in pastel colors hang down into the barn’s main doorway, and Macintosh nudges his way through to give her a thumbs-up as a limousine pulls up to the curb. All six of her friends spill out, sporting the Western-themed outfits they wore during Applejack’s mental picture of a music video concept in “Dance Magic.”)
Invite my friends, clean the barn
(setting a pie in place) This is so excitin’!
A cappella
(removing head kerchief) Strum guitar and sing this yarn
Banjo/bass/handclaps/bass drum in
(She lets the cloth wave past the camera lens; behind its trailing edge, wipe to the doorway, where the other six girls enter with expressions of surprise and delight. The barn has been cleared of all the detritus and tools, flower tubs stand on tables covered with plaid cloths, and the side table is set up with pies and a cooler full of cider. Applejack proves to be wearing her original hairstyle and her own “Dance Magic” ensemble when the camera pans to her, standing at the opposite side of the space. A string of tiny lights has been added to a ladder rising into the rafters.)
Applejack: Keepin’ busy is keepin’ good, keep on goin’ just like you should
(As the guests spread out, she picks up an acoustic guitar and stands on the hay bale against which it was propped to start playing.)
Harmonies/violin in
Call me crazy, misunderstood, but you won’t hear me complain
[Yee-haa!]
Handclaps replaced by full percussion; double-time feel
Harmonies out; each set of background lyrics is sung under the preceding line
(The others groove in their own ways.)
’Cause I got time to spare, I got fun to share
[Time…Fun…]
(Several other Canterlot High students are now present; she leaps off the bale and slides past them on her knees.)
My friends along
[Friends…]
A job well done by the break of dawn
(As the hole in its body fills the screen, the darkness within dissolves to Pinkie trying to pull the end cap off a cardboard tube. She grins and Rainbow laughs at the burst of confetti that erupts when she finally pops it loose. Across the way, Fluttershy is feeding bites from a slice of apple pie to a couple of curious chickens.)
Harmonies in
Applejack: Keepin’ busy is keepin’ good, keep on goin’ just like you should
(winking) Call me crazy, misunderstood, but you won’t hear me complain
(The whole crowd is deep into the hoedown now; cut to the exterior of the barn, doors closed and windows glowing warmly.)
Harmonies out; each set of background lyrics is sung under the preceding line
’Cause I got time to spare, I got fun to share
[Time…Fun…]
(Inside, Pinkie is first to notice something is amiss—namely, the fact that Applejack is crashed out and snoring loudly by a bale.)
My friends along
[Friends…]
All instruments out except bass drum and handclaps
A job well done by the break of dawn
Picking guitar for four beats as she holds the last word, then song ends
(Rarity pulls out a blanket and drapes it gently over the blonde, who cradles her guitar a bit closer in her sleep as the view fades to black.)
“So Much More to Me” Written by Kate Leth; composed by Mason Rather
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the exterior of the Canterlot Animal Shelter during the day. Fluttershy and Sunset stand at the front doors, Angel down by Fluttershy’s feet, while the other Rainbooms wait on the sidewalk near the curb. Zoom in slowly, then cut to the pair on the next line.)
Sunset: Are you sure you don’t want to come to the karaoke party, Fluttershy?
Fluttershy: (stroking hair nervously) Oh, no, Sunset. I can’t. The thought of singing in public makes me…
(A choked little noise escapes her throat in lieu of any further words; Sunset lays a comforting hand on her shoulder.)
Sunset: No worries. (walking off, waving) See you tomorrow.
(The volunteer quickly scoops Angel up and ducks through the doors; cut to inside as she slides down against them to the floor.)
Quiet, sustained synthesizer chords, slow loose 4 (E major)
Fluttershy: Do you think the coast is clear?
(setting him down) No one to see, no one to hear
Me sing out my song
(grasping a broom) I think we’re all alone
Poppy synth melody with bass drum, moderate 4; Fluttershy’s voice slowly builds power
(The overhead fluorescent lights begin to pulse in time to the music.)
Fluttershy: I don’t need my name in lights
That’s not where I’ve set my sights
(Sparkles float up around her ankles as she sweeps a bit.)
No-o, oh, no, not me
I don’t need a stage to sing
(The motes build to a flash of pink light that wreathes her form and subsides to leave her in a very different outfit: high-collared, pale green dress with translucent fabric in a slightly different hue covering shoulders and arms and a scattering of pearls down the front, white tights, pale green high heels with pink flower trim, a ruffled, pale green clip amid tumbling, pearl-studded waves of hair. Her broom has become an old-style radio microphone on a pole, its transducer element mounted within a vertical ring frame and displaying a grinning cat’s face.)
Full percussion in; hold last word under next line
Fluttershy: I like the quiet, I like the calm
(Another burst of sparks, and Angel—in a dapper hat and bow tie—and other critters are now riding atop a set of pulsing equalizer signals.)
To turn it up, to sing along
(winking) I’m not just shy, look close and you will see
Percussion out for next line only
There’s so much more to me
(A flash, and she is her normal self surrounded by the shelter’s residents in the grooming area. She picks up Pup-Pup and sets him on a counter.)
Fluttershy: I’m just fine rehearsing on my own
(Twirl a brush, raise it to her lips.)
My hairbrush is my microphone
(Spin the pooch on the counter; he winds up with his shaggy fur neatly groomed and a ribbon tied into it between his ears.)
Look out now, I’m in the zone
(spoken in rhythm) Yeah, can you feel it?
(One quick change later, she carries her microphone to center screen amid a flutter of birds.)
Fluttershy: I like the quiet, I like the calm
(Angel and other fuzzy-wuzzies ride the equalizer bars again.)
To turn it up, to sing along
(winking) I’m not just shy, look close and you will see
There’s so much more to me
Synth chords and bass drum only
(Flash to her normal self, carrying a bag of trash out the back door as two teens converse by a pickup truck parked at the curb.)
Fluttershy: (softly) I speak soft out in a crowd
(She puts it in a waiting can as quietly as possible and hustles back inside.)
I whisper—am I being too loud?
(building power) But when I close that door
(The sound of a cheering audience fades up as one sandal-clad foot taps the floor.)
The crowd, it just wants more and more and more
All instruments in; hold last word under next line
(She bounds joyfully through the hall, a flash filling the screen and subsiding to reveal her translucent image superimposed first on her green-dressed counterpart and then over the animals on the equalizer bars.)
Fluttershy: I like the quiet, I like the calm [Oh, whoa, whoa]
To turn it up, to sing along
(The two yellow girls circle around each other, holding microphone and broom, and end up standing back to back as they sing together.)
I’m not just shy, look close and you will see
There’s so much more to me
Hold last word under next line
(Both items are tossed away; the other Rainbooms and a group of animals bounce on opposite sides of the pair.)
Fluttershy: I like my friends, I like my pets [Oh, whoa, whoa]
(They twirl away from each other…)
I like to rock, do pirouettes [Oh-h]
(...then step up side by side with real and pretend microphones in hand. The normally dressed Fluttershy vanishes into her glamorous opposite number.)
I’m not just shy, I’m more than you can see
Percussion out
There’s so much more to me
Song ends
Sunset: (from o.s.) Hey, Fluttershy.
(The fantasy shatters into a rain of sparks, a panicked grimace instantly taking root on the yellow face. She stands, normally dressed and holding her broom, as the camera pans slightly to frame Sunset stepping in through the front doors.)
Sunset: I came back to say we decided to go to a movie instead, but… (puzzled) …were you playing music?
Fluttershy: (half-squeaking) No!
Sunset: Okay. Well, do you want to come?
Fluttershy: (smiling, calming down) I guess so.
(She follows Sunset out as the view fades to black.)
“The Other Side” Composed by John Jennings Boyd, Lisette Bustamante
Quiet guitar melody with echoing synthesizer chords, slow 4 (E flat major)
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a series of alternating slow pans across a sunrise and the cluttered design area that Rarity used while working at Equestria Land during “Rollercoaster of Friendship.” The view dissolves from one scene to the other, until a final tilt down from the sunlit sky frames a long shot of Rarity on a beach, walking calmly away from the lapping waves. Her outfit is done in deep shades of blue and grayish-blue—sleeveless bodysuit, wrist-length gloves, ankle-length boots, cape streaming in the breeze—and is accented with light blue gems, matching bracelets, and a brooch that covers the left shoulder. Glitter and more gems are dusted onto the gloves and into the loose, windswept purple hair. Dissolve to a close-up of Rarity’s calmly smiling face, the eyes popping wide with surprise in the same moment that the background changes to her design area and she resumes her normal appearance and clothing. She sits drawing at a cluttered countertop as the camera pans slowly through the space.)
Acoustic percussion in; synth out
Rarity: Sitting here with my head in my hands, ideas, they come and go
Sketching my heart out, nothing will turn out, everything seems so-so
(She stands and crosses to a bulletin board covered with sheets.)
I’ve been here before, and I know that I can do it if I try
(pulling one down, then sweeping the board clear)
But why, oh, why do you stumble before you fly?
Percussion out; piano/synth in
(The pages swirl past the camera, the scene wiping behind them to show Bodysuit Rarity struggling to climb a steep, unforgiving mountain slope. The view fades to black several times, then in after each to frame her from a different angle.)
Rarity: My wheels keep turning [Oh,oh!] my fire’s still burning [Oh, oh!]
(She trips and pitches forward, arms thrust out to break the fall, and swiftly finds herself back on the workshop floor. The spilled drawings and a few loose gems lie scattered before her.)
’Cause right now I’m learning [Oh,oh!] how to get to the other side
Snare drum in
(Eyes widen; hands curl into fists; a flash, and Bodysuit Rarity nears the peak and a gleaming mirror that stands waiting for her.)
It’s a game of waiting [Hey, hey!] anticipating [Hey, hey!]
(Dissolve to the workshop; she stands, approaches the mirror at the far end, and joyfully launches herself toward it.)
But I keep creating [Hey, hey!] so I can get to the other, get to the other side
Synth and electronic percussion only
(Instead of shattering the glass, she passes through it and emerges into orange-tinted space amid a shower of blue crystals. She is now attired in the carousel-themed ensemble she briefly sported during the Rainbooms’ song at the end of “Rollercoaster of Friendship,” but the camera cuts to Bodysuit Rarity in time for a wink from one blue eye. The latter has shed her cape and brooch, revealing the strapless design of her garment.)
Rarity: (muted) Get to the other side
(Cut to Carousel Rarity on the beach, a series of dissolves shifting her from one pose to another.)
Hey
(Dissolve to Bodysuit Rarity, who gently blows glitter from her gloved palms toward the camera, then cut to a slow pan across the cylindrical skirt of Carousel Rarity’s dress. A dissolve shifts her expression from confident to playful.)
Hey, get to the other side
Hey (normal volume) So I can get to the other, get to the other
Guitar and acoustic percussion only, with echoing synth
(Now she walks the beach.)
Rarity: Keep on believing, I’ll be achieving, the harder that I go
(Bodysuit Rarity lounges on a cluster of giant gemstones that jut from the sand, a pair of headphones over her ears; dissolve to a close-up of her winking countenance.)
Don’t really know how, I won’t give up now until I steal the show
(Cut to Carousel Rarity, ringed in by pole-mounted crystalline pony statues that cycle up and down as they circle around her, then to Bodysuit Rarity propping herself on one half-bent knee and without the headphones.)
With time it gets better, I’ll be a trendsetter, doing it my own way
(She drapes herself over the massive jewels again, a telephone receiver pressed to one ear as she lies on her back, then stands on the beach with her cape and brooch on again. The garment is flung open dramatically as a dolphin leaps from the water behind her.)
Hey, hey-hey, won’t stop ‘’til I seize the day
Percussion out; handclaps, piano in
(A flare of white light fills the screen and subsides to black it out, followed by a series of fade-in/fade-out transitions that each fill only a portion of the screen and frame her from various angles. The first two are of Carousel Rarity, the last of of Bodysuit Rarity without her cape.)
Rarity: My wheels keep turning [Oh,oh!] my fire’s still burning [Oh, oh!]
(Fade to white, then in to Carousel Rarity at the center of her crystalline merry-go-round.)
’Cause right now I’m learning [Oh,oh!] how to get to the other side
Snare drum in
(She tosses a double handful of necklaces in slow motion; cut to Bodysuit Rarity on the beach, cape on and back to the camera, then flash to a profile close-up. Another flash as the accessories fall toward her neck, and she has become Carousel Rarity and is wearing them.)
It’s a game of waiting [Hey, hey!] anticipating [Hey, hey!]
(Bodysuit Rarity, now on a cliff overlooking the beach, pulls her cape off and lets the brooch drop from her shoulder.)
But I keep creating [Hey, hey!] so I can get to the other, get to the other side
Synth and electronic percussion only
(Cut back and forth between Carousel Rarity, twirling in place, and Bodysuit Rarity, regarding the seascape with arms spread and cape discarded.)
Rarity: (muted) Get to the other side
Hey
(A longer shot of her gem-themed lounging spot by the waves. A gold sculpture of an eagle rests on a perch hung with jewels; an open treasure chest is to one side; a colossal oyster to the other, its shell opened to expose a pearl; the phone she used is on a pedestal; the ground is littered with assorted small valuables. Zoom out slowly, then cut to one of the crystal merry-go-round horses, then to Carousel Rarity standing within a circle of blue gems that match the ones in her cutie mark.)
Hey, get to the other side
(She stands on the beachside cliff.)
Hey (normal volume) So I can get to the other, get to the other side
Song ends
(On this last word, the camera cuts to a long shot of her and zooms out slowly as fireworks burst in the early-morning sky and a dolphin leaps up into view. From here, dissolve to a close-up of Bodysuit Rarity lying on her back and pan slowly toward her face. The blue-shadowed eyes open halfway over a serene little smile, and the view fades to black.)