MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS—SPRING BREAKDOWN
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)
Note: This transcript is based on the original airing of this special on Discovery Family,
which ran 44 minutes. It was later released in six segments on YouTube, each
with its own title card; one is shown at the beginning of the Discovery Family
airing as well.
An extended version of the song in Act Two is included at the end of this
transcript.
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the sun shining in a cheery daytime sky almost totally free of clouds. Two seagulls swoop into view for a moment before veering away, and the camera pans/tilts down to a frame a gaily painted cruise ship in a long overhead shot. A stage has been set up on the main deck up near the prow, with a seashell-shaped backdrop. The craft sounds a bellowing blast from its horn as the gulls descend toward it.)
(Cut to a close-up of Rarity reading and taking it easy on a lounge chair. She is wearing a white sundress decorated with a pattern of sparkling violet gems, a pale yellow sash encircles her waist, and her eyes are protected by tinted lenses set in jeweled frames whose color matches the sash. She wears her hair in a ponytail, jeweled violet sandals, and the stone from her magical pendant at her neckline. One hand is occupied with her book, the other with a drink in a hollowed coconut shell, and a travel bag and bottle of suntan lotion rests on the deck within easy reach. One of the gulls perches on an adjacent empty chair, drawing a smile—but the tranquility is shattered by the sight of Pinkie Pie pulling herself into view in the foreground. Seen from the hips up, she is wearing a sleeveless pink sundress with darker polka dots and has gathered her hair into two short, fat pigtails at the base of her neck.)
Pinkie: (shaking camera) SPRING BREAAAAK!!
(Only on the end of this does she tip her head down to the horizontal, showing off a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses. The force of her yell leaves Rarity’s own shades half-capsized, and she peels out fast enough to scare the gull away. Pan quickly to another stretch of the deck occupied by various other passengers on this cruise, many in swimwear and/or students at Canterlot High School. A white-uniformed attendant makes her way among the crowd to offer drinks as the camera roves past the gathering to an onboard swimming pool, on whose diving board Micro Chips is working up his nerve to try a leap. However, the sudden emergence of Pinkie from the water scares him into losing his balance and toppling in with an ungainly splash.)
Pinkie: Spring break!
(Cut to Bulk Biceps at the prow, dressed in a cap, shorts, and sleeveless tunic styled as a sailor’s uniform. He gazes out over the waves, one hand raised to shade his eyes, and is only slightly surprised to find Pinkie popping up behind him and stretching his arms out to either side.)
Pinkie: SPRIIIING BREAAAAAAAK!!
(As she voices her glee thusly, he grins and the camera zooms out quickly to a long shot of the vessel majestically slicing through the surf. Wipe to an overhead shot of the pool area—near the stern, as it turns out—and an elevated lounge deck adjacent to it. Pinkie is hunched intently over a serving counter staffed by a crew member, and all the other Rainbooms save Rainbow Dash have gathered at the railing that overlooks the pool. Zoom in slowly and cut to a closer shot, panning slowly through the crowd and its accompanying buzz of conversation. More of Pinkie’s outfit can now be seen: cupcake-shaped fanny pack shifted to ride on one hip, dark pink trim on the hem of her dress, blue sandals with stacked heels, the stone from her pendant set in the blue bow on her hair band. Rarity, having disposed of her book and drink and righted her eyewear, briefly holds up her cell phone to take a “selfie” photo of herself as Twilight Sparkle and Sunset Shimmer talk at the rail and Twilight shows off a brochure. Twilight: dress in purple and deep pink, with stars of each color appearing on the panels of the other, blue-violet sandals with built-up soles. Sunset: sparkly magenta dress with her cutie mark on the front and a beaded belt, sandals with brown straps and black soles, dark gray ribbon at her throat. Rainbow makes her way toward the group: blue capri pants, sleeveless rainbow-striped top tied off to leave her midriff partly exposed, white/magenta baseball cap sporting a cloud against a trio of red/yellow/green stripes, flip-flops with red/yellow straps and blue soles, one wristband striped in two shades of blue, hair in a ponytail. Hers is the only face showing any unease. Above it all, the sky has advanced a fair bit toward sundown.)
(Cut to the rail, where a green-faced Applejack is clearly in the grip of a bout of seasickness despite Fluttershy’s effort to comfort her. Both are seen from the waist up in this shot. The farmer has donned a sleeveless red sundress with pale green trim, decorated with flowers at the hem, and has traded her hat for a green hair band. As for the animal lover: sleeveless, white one-shoulder top patterned with butterflies and leaves and trimmed in pale green lace, butterfly brooch at the covered shoulder, blue-green shorts.)
Twilight: (reading from brochure) “Welcome aboard the Lux Deluxe, where you’ll set sail for a full week of luxurious luxuriating on our most deluxe luxury liner.”
(This shot is close enough to pick out the lighter pink sash on her dress, the stone from her pendant in a purple star-shaped hair clip over one temple, and the details of Sunset’s belt—red/yellow beads secured by a clasp set with her own magic stone. Rainbow has mounted hers on her wristband. As Twilight reads, Pinkie acquires a beverage from the serving counter and proceeds to chug it down. Fluttershy turns her attention from Applejack, clearly showing the butterflies on her shorts, as the blonde’s cheeks bulge.)
Fluttershy: Ooh! Sounds…luxurious! (Pinkie crosses to Twilight, carrying an armload of fresh drinks.)
Twilight: Did you see there’s a petting zoo on board?
Pinkie: Mmmm! Smoothies! (She passes one to Rainbow.)
Twilight: And an all-you-can-eat dessert buffet you can… (losing steam) …eat all you…can eat…at? (Pinkie lets off an ecstatic scream.)
Pinkie: Twilight, this cruise has everything, and a moving floor!
(Cut to an extreme close-up of the planks beneath her feet, which heave briefly up and down to the creaking of the ship, then cut to Applejack. Now her pendant’s stone can be seen mounted on her hair band, whose green tint very nearly matches the one suffusing her face. After a moment’s intense struggle, she forces her gut to behave itself and slumps over the rail with a weary groan.)
Applejack: I think I may have forgotten to pack my sea legs.
(Zoom out to frame Pinkie now alongside. The perky teen offers one of the many libations she still carries, but the mere sight of it causes Applejack to clap hands to mouth as her gorge bubbles up anew. Twilight and Sunset throw worried glances her way, but smiles quickly come over both faces to brighten the mood a bit.)
Sunset: Thank you for organizing this trip, Twilight.
Rainbow: (to Twilight, smiling) I gotta hand it to you. (gesturing broadly) You really have an eye for climactic battle settings.
Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rarity: Eh? / Huh? (Sunset holds her tongue and gives Rainbow a funny look.)
Rainbow: Imagine, going head to head with a sea monster by the pool!
(The screen fades to white and clears to present a hastily doodled vision of just such a creature rising up from the deeps to menace a bevy of screaming, fleeing passengers at this spot. The action advances in a series of quick freeze frames. It roars and belches a stream of smoke toward the deck, raising further ruckus.)
Rainbow: (voice over) Ka-chow! Evil Equestrian magic blows up the diving board! (She vocalizes a blast; now the ship starts to sink as life-jacketed passengers float in the water.) The boat’s sinking! Everyone’s screaming!
(Zoom in on the upraised prow on the end of this, then fade to white and in to the blue teen with the overactive imagination. Behind her, the other girls are scared at least three-fourths out of their wits.)
Rainbow: And then we save the day!
(Only now does she turn to see just how badly her narrative has rattled the six. This shot picks out the hair clip Fluttershy wears, set with her pendant’s stone. Puzzled/irritated looks pass from one set of eyes to another during the long pause before Fluttershy speaks up.)
Fluttershy: Oh! Is the sea monster okay in this story?
Rainbow: Better than okay. (She slurps down her drink…) She’s our friend now.
(…and, grinning like a loon, plops the glass onto the tray of a passing crew member without so much as a glance in that direction. This earns her a slightly dirty look.)
Rainbow: (pumping a fist) Best spring break ever!
(Her amped-up enthusiasm softens by notches as she takes in the skeptical reactions on the others’ faces. Fluttershy and Rarity have now obtained their own liquid refreshment.)
Sunset: Or we could do…not that.
(Pan slowly across the group, the other listeners except Applejack voicing reactions along this line. Pinkie is now working on a fresh smoothie, and Applejack’s face is back to normal. The blue fist drops as Rainbow grimaces.)
Twilight: (crossing to her, touching an arm) I was hoping we could do something without having to battle Equestrian magic for a change? (Cut to Applejack on the start of the next line.)
Applejack: We couldn’t even spend the day at Equestria World without creatin’ a calamity.
Rainbow: Which we then un-calaminated like literal awesome superheroes!
(Referring to the group’s adventure in “Rollercoaster of Friendship,” but with one error: the amusement park that served as its main setting was named Equestria Land. Twilight shoots her a slightly hairy eyeball before the camera cuts to frame all seven from head to toe for the first time. Fluttershy wears pink sandals with high heels, Applejack pale green ones with flat soles. There follows a long, tense silence, which is broken by Rarity’s airy, casual sigh.)
Rarity: (patting Twilight’s shoulder) Twilight, this is a most deservéd respite. (hugging her, passing her a drink) We’re all very thankful for the chance to relax and do absolutely nothing.
(She props her sunglasses on her forehead as Fluttershy/Pinkie/Sunset concur; cut to a close-up of Twilight’s beaming face and pan to Rainbow’s incredulous one, which shifts to sullenness accented by a crossing of the arms. The buzzing of a phone sparks a surprised yelp from Rarity, and she pulls hers from a pocket and taps at the screen. Fluttershy and Pinkie have put away their drinks by this point. Zoom in on the fashion-conscious girl.)
Rarity: Oh! (Scream and hyperventilate.)
Rainbow: What is it? Evil magic?
Rarity: A GPS alert! We’re in international waters!
(The ace athlete pulls in a long, stunned gasp, only to shift into complete bewilderment.)
Rainbow: What does that mean?
Rarity: (giddily, singsong) Tax-free shopping!
(She races off with a wild giggle, the other five dispersing in a scatter of conversation and leaving a put-out Rainbow to stalk away. Twilight has parked her smoothie on the serving counter. Dissolve to a close-up of a tray of sweets on a table; a hand reaches to take one, and a longer shot frames those fingers as belonging to one of two female passengers engaged in a bit of chit-chat. They are standing inside a dining room whose many tables are loaded with all manner of sugary delectables—the all-you-can-eat dessert buffet listed in Twilight’s brochure. The far wall consists of floor-to-ceiling windows. As guests help themselves to the spread, the camera pans to a pair of closed double doors, which are flung open to frame Pinkie standing just outside in a corridor. She has shed her sunglasses.)
Pinkie: Ooooh! (Cut/pan from one offering to another; she continues o.s.) Honey walnut crisp…candy-coated cupcakes…banana sorbet delight…
(Zoom out to frame several tables as a long gasp is heard from her general direction. One platter has a domed cover and is marked with a card bearing a picture of a cake; she leans into view near this.)
Pinkie: …Triple-Choco-Berry-Blasted Butter Biscuit Bundt Cake?!? (Enraptured squeal; she reaches to the cover’s handle.) I’ve waited my whole life to taste a cake like this!
(Five pink fingers lift it away, only to reveal a whole lot of nothing beneath. The camera zooms in slowly on her face, tilting slightly to frame her at a half-drunken angle as her expression melts into one of horrified disappointment and the lights dim for a moment. Just as quickly, the illumination level and the camera angle return to normal in a longer shot.)
Pinkie: NOOOOOOOOO!!
(And here comes Puffed Pastry, a female chef in white jacket/toque and carrying a new covered platter. She speaks in a heavy, gravelly French accent.)
Puffed: Excusez-moi, mademoiselle. (uncovering dish; it bears a freshly baked, steaming cake) How about one fresh from the oven?
(Once Pinkie’s mental transmission slips back into gear, she utters a huge gasp and beams from ear to ear, her eyes shining like a pair of lighthouses. Puffed throws her a smug smile and holds up a spatula in her free hand, the camera zooming in to catch a glint of light off the metal, and poises it to lift a slice away.)
Rainbow: (charging across at magic speed, tackling her) Heeeee-yah! (The cake goes flying.)
Pinkie: CAKE OVERBOARRRRD!!
(On the end of this, cut to a fellow elsewhere in the dining room, who looks up from his phone just in time to find himself in its growing shadow The dessert comes down squarely on his head, splattering him with gooey deliciousness from the shoulders up and drawing a round of shocked gasps from the patrons. Rainbow and Puffed have wound up in a heap near the far end, the latter giving a yell of disbelief.)
[Animation goof: Rainbow’s wristband is gone until the end of this buffet sequence.]
Puffed: My gâteau!
(She makes a half-choked sound of mingled frustration and fury, and her snarling face goes bright red as the camera zooms in and Rainbow backs o.s. with an embarrassed grin and chuckle. A teakettle sings at full voice in the woman’s head for a few agonizingly long seconds, after which the camera cuts to the corridor, just outside the now-closed doors. These are bashed open from within by the force with which Puffed ejects Pinkie and Rainbow bodily from the buffet. Her face has returned to its normal hue, and the two yelling girls manage to stay on their feet for two or three yards before toppling face-first to the carpet. Without a word, the chef dusts off her hands and pulls the doors shut with a resounding slam. As Pinkie and Rainbow sit up, the latter offers a weak chuckle.)
Rainbow: You saw it. (Pinkie fixes her with a hard glare.) She had a…uh…spatula! So…you’re welcome.
(Wipe to a slow pan across an area outfitted as a petting zoo. Animals and passengers alike are having a peaceful time of it, and Fluttershy makes her way to an enclosure in which a baby goat is clambering up onto a tree branch.)
Fluttershy: A goat on a boat?
(Giggling, she lifts it down and cradles it for a moment before setting it on the floor.)
Fluttershy: Now I’ve seen everything.
(A new noise draws her attention to a hutch populated by a number of small gray rabbits. She crouches down to pet one on the head; close-up of it.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Aren’t you just the softest thing? (It squeaks happily; cut to frame both.) You have forty-two grandchildren? (Squeak.) Wow, Mr. Bouncy, that is impressive! I’d love to meet them.
(Mr. Bouncy makes a “come out and say hello” gesture to the other inhabitants of the hutch, but before they can do as suggested, Rainbow blurs into view.)
Rainbow: Not today!
(Fluttershy can only yelp as she is yanked back and to her feet, while the speedster strikes a fighting stance and gestures toward the rabbits as if to say, “Bring it on.” Mr. Bouncy just shrugs confusedly toward his descendants, who are equally at a loss.)
Rainbow: Sure, he seems cute and cuddly now, but have you ever seen what a magic-infused evil rabbit can do?
(Humans and animals are equally unsettled by this bizarre query.)
Fluttershy: Um…eat carrots?
Rainbow: Yeah. (pointing at Mr. Bouncy) Evil carrots!
(Within seconds, every single critter in the place has bolted for cover and taken all the fun out of the petting zoo. Fluttershy drops her eyes and rubs one temple with an irked hand. Dissolve to a close-up of Applejack making her way slowly and queasily along the length of the deck, one hand pressed to her gut and the other keeping contact with the nearest wall for support. Her face goes green upon getting a whiff of the treats being enjoyed by a couple of passersby, and a brief lurch stops her cold and brings her perilously close to losing her lunch where she stands. As she moves across to lean over the rail, Rainbow steps into view from around a corner and jogs over.)
Rainbow: What’s up, AJ?
(The blonde can only manage a series of grunts through her distended cheeks and tight-locked lips as she tries her best to act casual.)
Rainbow: You can’t talk? (More grunts and a “no” gesture.) Evil magic stole your voice? (More of the same; now Rainbow grabs her and shakes.) Out, evil spirits, out!
(Close-up of the afflicted teen on the end of this, the sloshing of her stomach contents coming through loud and clear now. Pulling herself free, she exerts a Herculean effort and finally manages to compose herself. The triumph is short-lived, though; her digestive system roils anew, sending her back to the rail so she can blow chunks into the ocean. Rainbow cringes as seagulls wheel down to see if there might be anything salvageable in the mess.)
Rainbow: (sheepishly, scratching back of head) Or you’re seasick. (Weak chuckle; then a new, fearful idea hits.) Because of evil magic?
(Applejack’s only response is to scrub the back of one hand across her own mouth and give Rainbow the king daddy of all venomous looks. Her face has cleared now.)
Rainbow: Or not. (Embarrassed chuckle.)
(Wipe to an overhead shot of the pool, zooming in slowly as Rainbow descends the steps leading down to it from the lounge, and cut to her. She stops and runs an eye over the area before addressing the crowd at large.)
Rainbow: HAS ANYONE SEEN BAD MAGIC ON BOARD?
(The festive mood comes to a screeching halt, quizzical eyes turning her way and puzzled voices murmuring among themselves, and the camera pans quickly from one knot of onlookers to another. The last of these is a trio of boys seated at a table, one of whom is Flash Sentry; he nods, stands, and points to a nearby set of closed double doors. Rainbow gasps excitedly at having found a lead, adjusts her cap, and strides across the deck to check it out. Cut to just inside the doors as she pulls one open and puts her head in to scope out the joint; her eyes pop very wide, and the camera swivels quickly to frame another closed door directly ahead at the end of a corridor. She takes a step toward this, mouth curving into a determined smile; cut to the area on its other side—dimly lit and filled with sparkly purple mist. The door swings open to frame Rainbow’s silhouette at the threshold; upon tentatively easing in just a fraction, she is greeted by the sight of a hazy auditorium whose seats are mostly empty. The mist is thickest near the stage, and a close-up of one stretch of seats discloses a few elderly spectators snoozing peacefully. Rainbow gasps in fright and advances toward the stage, on which the vague outline of a top-hatted female figure can now be seen.)
Figure: (echoing weirdly) Prepare yourself!
Rainbow: (bracing for a fight) I’m ready for anything!
(She gets a malicious giggle in reply before the view snaps to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to the face-off in the auditorium.)
Figure: (echoing) Prepare yourself…
(The fog slowly clears to reveal the speaker fully as Trixie, dressed in the performance outfit she wore for the “Street Magic with Trixie!” short. The echo fades from her voice as she continues.)
Trixie: …for the Great and Powerful Trixie of the High Seas! Two shows daily. Tip your waitresses. (Cut to Rainbow, her mind blown.)
Rainbow: Wasn’t ready for that.
(She walks toward the camera, the view fading to black at her approach and then snapping to a longer shot of the stage; she stops a few yards away in the aisle.)
Trixie: Why, hello, Rainbow Dash. (removing hat; Rainbow steps up onstage) If you’re hoping for a glimpse of the ultimate power in the universe, you’ll have to wait until tonight.
Rainbow: Nah, just looking for bad magic.
Trixie: (needled, donning hat) Sorry to disappoint you, but the bad magic of others always follows the amazing magic of moi.
Rainbow: What do you mean?
Trixie: (scoffing, crossing to her) I’m talking about the old grandpas in the audience who see my show and then try to impress their kids with a disappearing-quarter trick on their way home.
(During this line, cut to the two oldsters previously seen in the seats. They are now awake, and one shows off a coin, squeezes his hands together around it, and spreads them wide in an attempt to show that it has vanished. Instead, the coin squirts away and clinks on the floor—David Copperfield he is not. Both men start looking for the money as the camera cuts back to Rainbow, who starts to have a brainstorm.)
Rainbow: Their magic only shows up in response to your magic. Huh. You’re a genius!
Trixie: (dismissively) Well, obviously. (lifting a string of handkerchiefs tied together corner-to-corner) Now, do you mind helping me shove this ten-foot handkerchief down my sleeve?
(Rainbow’s jog for the exit, and the sound of the opening/closing door that drifts back, answer that one clearly enough—so the illusionist begins to wrangle the prop on her own. Dissolve to a busy gift shop; Rarity walks in, checking her phone, and stops upon getting an eyeful of the variegated items up for sale. Grinning widely, she stashes the device and twirls over to a full-length mirror with an article of clothing held up to her chest in order to see how it might look on her. There follows a series of five flashes of white, each of which clears to show her modeling a different combination of accessories, then a run past the sales counter to drop off a shopping bag with a rather bored crew member on cashier duty who is filing her nails. Other items are quickly snatched up—a squeaky starfish, a baseball cap—and two more bags are deposited on the counter in Rarity’s next pass. A keychain, shirt, and dress go next, after which the camera cuts to an extreme close-up of Rarity’s shining eye and zooms out. She is peering into a small glass case displaying immaculately cleaned seashells, and a cut to the counter frames one being wrapped and boxed. It and a fourth bag appear on the counter, quickly followed by two more boxes, the starfish, and one last tiny bag. Finally the cashier rings up the lot, bringing Rarity to a smile when she sees the total. She is now carrying a small purse—one last acquisition, perhaps.)
Rarity: Nine-ninety-nine! (laughing) My savvy shopping smarts strike again! (She produces a bill.) Here’s ten.
(The impassive cashier takes the bill, adds it to her register drawer, and flips a penny back across the counter as change. Rarity tries to catch it, only to see it slide free of her grip time after time. It finally clatters to the floor in close-up; she bends to pick it up, but a crew member’s tanned hand gets in an instant before hers so that her fingers touch those of this new figure. Zoom out to frame it as Ragamuffin, a male not much older than she, with short, tousled blond hair, one brown wristband, and sprinkles of freckles under the outside corners of his bright green eyes. Rarity pulls her hand away as he winks and bites down on the penny, as if confirming it to be genuine. He speaks with a broad Cockney accent.)
Ragamuffin: By golly! That’s real copper, it is! (His perspective of her and the coin.) Bloomin’ delightful!
(Following a moment’s stunned silence on the fashionista’s part, the camera cuts back to him as he stands up.)
Ragamuffin: Uh, penny for your thoughts, miss?
Rarity: (stammering demurely) Oh, you can’t afford my thoughts.
Ragamuffin: (chuckling) Quite right. (helping her up) Lovable scamp like meself. (winking) Ol’ Ragamuffin, that’s me name, innit? (He notices her multiple purchases.) Uh, need a hand?
Rarity: (handing bags to him) Oh…Ragamuffin? I’m Rarity.
Ragamuffin: (puzzled, sounding it out) Uh…R-R-Ra-ri-’ee? (Sheepish grunt.)
(He has applied a glottal stop in place of the T-sound in her name, a common feature of Cockney speech.)
Rarity: No, no, no, no, no. Rari-ty.
Ragamuffin: Ra-ri-’ee? (Long pause.)
Rarity: (slightly deflated) Close enough.
(Dissolve to a long shot of the stage set up near the prow and zoom in slowly. All of the Rainbooms except for Rainbow and Rarity are here, Applejack has fetched up by an amplifier, Twilight paces nervously without the brochure she was studying in Act One, and the other three are looking over their instruments. A pan across the stage clearly frames Applejack’s gastrointestinal distress and the general air of worry shared among the other four girls. Sunset plucks a string on her guitar; Fluttershy taps her tambourine; Pinkie sits slumped over her drum kit, now wearing her sunglasses again.)
Twilight: Hmmm… (An inspiration hits; she turns to the others with a slightly forced smile.) Look at us! Getting ready to play at a pool party! Who knows what hijinks will ensue, am I right? Maybe I’ll fall in the pool fully clothed, and everyone will laugh!
(She laughs gamely as the camera cuts to Fluttershy and Pinkie, neither of whom shows even a flicker of joining in her mirth. Pinkie points up her own deep blue funk by letting her head thump down on her bass drum, and Twilight’s attempt to lift spirits peters out.)
Twilight: Are you not having fun?
Pinkie: (sighing) My whole life, I’ve been taught that you could only berry-blast a butter biscuit on a Bundt cake with two layers of chocolate. But this afternoon, I saw the truth. The buffet has a Triple-Choco-Berry-Blasted Butter Biscuit Bundt Cake.
Twilight: How was it?
Pinkie: (shrilly, viciously) I don’t know, ’cause Rainbow Dash got me banned from the buffet!
Twilight: What?!
Fluttershy: She also scared the animals in the petting zoo, and now they don’t want pets. (whispering, as Applejack stands up with a green face) It’s just a zoo.
Applejack: (weakly) She sure wasn’t helpin’ me not get sick off the side of the boat.
Twilight: But…you’re still having fun…right?
Fluttershy: (trying to sound convincing) Oh, of course!
Pinkie: (sourly, raising a drumstick) Yeah!
(And here goes Applejack’s stomach all over again, sending her sprinting offstage to let one fly over the rail.)
Twilight: (crushed) I’m sorry, everyone.
(Sunset un-slings her guitar, sets it down, and crosses to lay a consoling hand on the bookworm’s shoulder.)
Sunset: It’s not your fault. (They trade a small smile.)
Rainbow: (running up) Hey, hey, hey! (climbing onto stage) Sorry I’m late. So listen. I got an idea for our show tonight. We unleash some awesomeness on the crowd. I’m talking rainbow lasers.
Sunset: (puzzled) Is that a thing?
Rainbow: (laughing) Yeah. When we—
Pinkie: Do you mean when we turn into ponies, or do you mean—
Rainbow: No, th-the other thing!
Sunset: I always called that “pony up.”
Rainbow: (scoffing) The rainbow lasers!
Fluttershy: I don’t think that’s a thing.
Rainbow: It will be after we do it tonight! (raising a fist) Who’s with me?
(She is met with dead silence, and her enthusiasm ebbs as Sunset crosses to her.)
Sunset: Rainbow Dash, can I talk to you for a second?
(Dissolve to a slow pan across the stage, with these two standing together at a distance from the others for a private conversation, then cut to a close-up of them. Sunset lets out a long sigh and takes some seconds to collect herself before speaking.)
Sunset: Twilight worked really hard to plan this trip for all of us, and…oh, how can I say this without being mean?
Rainbow: (groaning) Just say it! I can take it.
Sunset: You’re ruining it for everyone!
Rainbow: (floored) Ouch! Your words just punched my feelings.
Sunset: You said you could take it! Just…stop looking for a problem when there isn’t one. How’s that?
(Rainbow ponders this advice sourly, but is soon distracted by a giggle from the o.s. Rarity. Sure enough, here comes the shopping expert onto the stage, Ragamuffin in tow with her voluminous purchases.)
Rarity: (removing sunglasses) Hello, darlings.
Twilight: Where have you been?
Ragamuffin: (setting his load down; Applejack returns) ’Avin’ a little chat with ol’ Ragamuffin, she was.
(General funny looks from the rest of the gang, except for a nauseated Applejack—her face clear—and a smiling Rainbow.)
Ragamuffin: (dusting off hands, saluting) All right, all right. Thanks for everything, Rari’ee.
(Rarity sighs blissfully, a blush tingeing her cheeks pink. Her shades now rest above her forehead.)
Ragamuffin: (vigorously shaking Applejack’s hand) Good luck for all the music and whatnot. (Her face goes green; hands clap to mouth; he departs waving.) Cheers!
(The blond bassist bugs out in the opposite direction to find a convenient rail over which to give her lunch the heave-ho. Rarity returns the wave with a soft sigh.)
Rarity: It’s like he fell out of a historical romance novel.
Fluttershy: (to Twilight/Pinkie/Rainbow/Sunset) Is that how romance sounds?
(The stares she gets could best be translated as “Your guess is as good as mine.” Cut to a long shot of the ship, the sky darkening first to twilight and then overcast night as it pushes ahead. Lights wink on in the portholes and in strings that line the deck as thunder rumbles in the distance. On deck, tables are being moved and refreshments set out in the area near the stage. Ragamuffin and another crew member set a speaker in place, and Ragamuffin throws a thumbs-up to Rarity, who claps her approval; she no longer carries her purse. A microphone is slotted into its stand by Rainbow, and in short order all the Rainbooms are onstage with instruments at the ready. They have changed into new dresses for this gig, both Pinkie and Rarity have put away their sunglasses. A portion of Rainbow’s hair has been braided and wound around her head, but the rest is still in its ponytail; in addition, she has ditched her baseball cap. Some have attached their pendant stones to new accessories.)
Light electric guitar/synthesizer/percussion melody, fast 4 (A flat major)
(Spots and beams of light shine from the stage backdrop, and someone in the crowd begins to snap fingers in time. In short order, eyes and ears are focusing on the stage.)
Rainbow: Get in the groove, you bring your dancing shoes
I’ll bring the attitude, you bring the crew so we can move
(Stars are projected onto the deck, one surrounding Flash’s feet. He and other spectators raise their arms in celebration, while Bulk tears open the tunic of his sailor-style outfit.)
Light up the floor, turn up the bass
Yeah, let me see that smile on your face
(She glances over to Applejack, who manages to drum up a shaky smile despite her momentarily virescent cheeks.)
Bass guitar, tambourine, full percussion in
(Now the crowd really starts to get into a party mood, cheering and dancing.)
Rainbooms: Come on and go with the flow, gonna steal the show, yeah
Twilight: Let me show you how it goes
Sunset: Repeat after me!
Rainbooms: ’Cause it’s all, all, all, all good
I feel abso-absolutely amazing
(Sunset winks at Flash, who blushes and beams.)
’Cause it’s all, all, all, all good
I feel abso-absolutely amazing
(Rainbow starts into a guitar solo.)
Rainbow: (to others) Rainbow lasers!
(The others trade bewildered and somewhat miffed looks, but decide to humor her. The six-stringer’s pony ears emerge from behind her coiled braid, followed by her entire body rising clear of the stage in the magic aura that envelops her. The others gain their ears as well but remain in their places, six pairs of concerned eyes flicking up at Rainbow, whose wings manifest as she continues to play. None of the seven gain their tails. In a long shot of the ship, a wide-angle spectrum of light in the girls’ signature colors blasts toward the clouds.)
Song ends abruptly
(Back onstage, one bulb after another shatters in its socket on the backdrop. Rainbow can only boggle at the electrical failure, which quickly spreads to the lights lining the deck and spurs the crowd into screams of fright, and in seconds the entire ship has gone dead. No porthole lights, no deck lights, no sound system, no engines, nothing except for the anxious murmurs now rippling through the passengers. Rainbow settles to the deck, her ears/wings disappearing, and tosses her guitar aside with gusto. The others’ transformations have already reversed by this point.)
Rainbow: Oh, it’s about to go down!
Voice in crowd: The ship’s going down?
(Those four words touch off a full-scale freak-out.)
Rainbow: Not the ship! The ship’s not going down! (Scoff.) I meant evil! Stop screaming!
(She slumps on her feet, disgusted at their terrified reaction. Fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a long overhead shot of the disabled ship, zooming in slowly, then cut to the deck. Crew members have stepped in to distribute armloads of flashlights and talk with passengers to keep them calm. Onstage, Pinkie has stepped out from behind her kit, and Applejack is fighting to rein in her gag reflex.)
Fluttershy: What happened to the lights?
Rarity: What happened to the engine?
Pinkie: Aw, I hate seeing a party get shut down before its time.
Applejack: The good news is, now that it’s dark, maybe my brain won’t know I’m on a boat.
(That theory lasts until a fresh wave of green-faced nausea hits—perhaps one second.)
Applejack: Oh, no. It heard me.
(She peels out, but gets herself under control and stops half-hunched at the edge of the stage.)
Twilight: (brightly) Let’s not let a little thing like total mechanical and electrical failure ruin our fun.
(Her chipper attitude fails to take root among her bandmates, but she is undeterred.)
Twilight: (running off) Leave it to me!
Rainbow: (to others) She’s wasting her time, because this is… (dramatically, pointing skyward) …Equestrian magic! (Sunset angrily yanks the arm down.)
Sunset: Stop!
Rainbow: You stop! We show off our magic, and literally ten seconds later the power blows? (Applejack trudges back.) We scared whatever’s out there, and it’s fighting back! We should split up and search the ship. Who’s with me?
(Not a one, judging from the averted eyes and lack of vocal response. A close-up of Rainbow and her confidently raised fist dissolves to one of her in a rather worse frame of mind, now walking and carrying an active flashlight. A longer shot puts her on a different section of the deck.)
Rainbow: (groaning, sullenly) That’s the last time I ask, “Who’s with me?”
(The camera tilts down through a “cutaway” view of the deck as the view fades to black. It stops on an engine room crowded with machinery and control panels. Twilight sits on the floor to inspect one stretch of the piping, her only illumination coming from the flashlights held by two of the three crew members standing behind her. She straightens up, exposing safety goggles in place of her usual glasses and the work gloves she has put on. From here on in, each girl will have put away her instrument when seen next.)
Twilight: I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job, but… (Airy giggle.) …may I?
(She accepts a proffered flashlight and sinks out of sight. Cut to an overhead shot of a barely-lit patch of floor amid the pipes and cables. She rolls into view, lying face-up on a mechanic’s dolly, and fumbles around with her free hand while playing the light here and there.)
Twilight: (snarling in frustration) What a mess! (She rolls out.) Did you even read the six-hundred-page online emergency handbook?
(Shrugs pass between two of the crew members—“is this kid for real?”—and she shakes her head disgustedly and slides back in for another go. Wipe to the darkened dessert buffet, through which a hunkered-down Pinkie tiptoes toward the table holding a fresh copy of the cake she had targeted in Act One.)
Pinkie: (straightening up before it) Time to raid the dessert buffet under the cover of darkness. (rubbing hands together eagerly) Triple-Choco-Berry-Blasted Butter Biscuit Bundt Cake, here I come.
(Puffed leans into view in the background.)
Puffed: Who said that?
Pinkie: No one! (She dives behind a table.) Shouldn’t you be upstairs? (The chef slams her hands on the surface.)
Puffed: Somebody has to guard the Bundt cakes! (Cut to Pinkie; she continues o.s.) Stay back! (brandishing spatula into view) I have a spatula!
(The dessert aficionado bolts as the Frenchwoman steps into view, the camera tilting up to frame her suspicious, narrowed eyes. Only after she has moved on does Pinkie straighten up into view, a tablecloth gathered around herself as a makeshift cloak. Satisfied that the coast is clear, she sinks away with a stifled snicker. Cut to Rarity walking along the corridor toward the closed entrance door to the auditorium in which Trixie was doing her magic show in Act One/Two. A fast thumping in a triplet rhythm asserts itself.)
Rarity: Hel-looooo? Ragamuffin?
(Muffled laughter and a jaunty melody can now be heard as well, the latter suggesting an Irish jig. Rarity fearfully steps up to the door and knocks.)
Rarity: Ragamuffin? Are you down here? I was just, uh… (Clear throat.) …in-in the neighborhood and, uh…
(She trails off, her curiosity having gotten the better of her. Cut to just inside the door, the music and voices coming through clearly now. Drums, violin, tin whistle, claps—it is a sure-enough jig—and she eases the door open for a look. What she sees causes her to throw it all the way back, her eyes popping wide.)
Rarity: Whaaat?
(Zoom out quickly to frame the front edge of the stage and a pair of white-clad feet dancing in perfect time. A few onlookers are providing the claps, and a head-on view tells the whole story. Four lanterns have been set on the stage to define the corners of a rectangle, platters and bowls of food are set at the edge—and the nimble legs are attached to none other than Ragamuffin, who dances with arms clasped behind his back.)
Rarity: Oh… (smiling dreamily) …who needs electricity when you have…the… (mumbling a bit) …whatever this is?
(The music ends as a wave of water splashes across the screen. It drains away to frame Rainbow gazing moodily out at the turbulent seas from a deck rail; she has put away her flashlight. Strong winds blow the multicolored tresses this way and that, and thunder booms as she lets out a vexed sigh—standing at the stern rail near the pool, as it turns out. An upward glance informs her that lightning has begun to strike dangerously close to the vessel, and a look back at the water presents her with flickers of light playing across the surface. These gradually coalesce form the twin lightning bolts that served as the emblem of the Storm King when he invaded Equestria—see the transcript of My Little Pony: The Movie for full details.)
Rainbow: Whoa. I knew it! (Zoom in on her.) Evil magic! You guys gotta see this!
(She blazes away from the rail. Cut to the engine room, where Twilight is still hard at work as the three crew members watch, then to a close-up of the young genius. One last grunt of exertion is followed by a smile.)
Twilight: (pulling out a plug on one end of a cord) All that’s left is to hold this lead wire in place while the auxiliary unit cycles— (Close-up of a socket; she continues o.s., plugging into it.) —and everything should be back to normal. (Cut to the crew members.) In three…two…one…
(Here comes Rainbow in a burst of speed.)
Rainbow: No time for that!
(Twilight is unceremoniously dragged out with a yell, hard enough to break the cord she was holding and send out a crackle of sparks. Before any of the crew members can react, Rainbow has her on her feet and is towing her out of the engine room at ludicrous speed. Smoke and sparks billow from the cubbyhole and fill the screen as the effects of the botched restart sequence spread throughout the engine room.)
(The view clears to yield a close-up of the cake of Pinkie’s dreams, still intact on the dessert buffet table and under the watchful eye of its pacing, spatula-armed Puffed. Pinkie, having shed the tablecloth she was wearing and ducked behind a table to do surveillance, fishes a wrapped candy out of her hair and charges it up with a bit of her magic. This is thrown into the clear, its tiny explosion drawing the chef’s attention away from the buffet. In a move almost faster than thought, Pinkie is on her feet and lifting the cake from its platter, hearts rising from her head. Just as she is about to sink her teeth into the mass of chocolaty goodness, Rainbow zips into the dining room and grabs her shoulders.)
Rainbow: No time for that!
(The girl with the insatiable sweet tooth is towed away with a screech, dropping the cake to splat forlornly on the carpet. The chef snarls at the wreckage, then catches sight of the two girls disappearing around a corner.)
Puffed: Banned for life!
(One eye twitches in a most worrisome manner before the view dissolves to the upper reaches of the auditorium and tilts down to the stage. Rarity and Ragamuffin are seated at its edge, everyone else having cleared out.)
Ragamuffin: (chuckling) Well, me pa worked in a coal mine, but I always wanted to dance. (sheepishly, scratching back of head) Huh. A fancy girl like you wouldn’t understand.
Rarity: Oh, no, actually, in the school production of Bedazzled, I played a coal miner’s daughter who danced in bedazzled magical boots from her Fairy Boot-Mother. (chuckling) So…
(A reference to the events in most of the “Choose Your Own Ending” shorts. He smiles at her…she smiles back, the camera zooming in slowly…the two lean gingerly toward one another, both feeling the attraction…and her cry of surprise hangs in the air as she is plowed away in Rainbow’s contrail.)
Rainbow: (now o.s.) No time for that!
(Ragamuffin’s eyes pop after the high-speed exit, his smile staying firmly in place. Wipe to the Rainbooms making their way past the pool and led by a flashlight-toting Rainbow. The other six are in a justifiably foul frame of mind, Twilight having shed her work gloves and traded goggles for spectacles, and AJ’s face is back to its usual color. The thunder and lightning that dominated Rainbow’s last visit to this area have subsided.)
Rainbow: I promise this is more important than all of your things.
(She runs ahead, ignoring their disgruntled mumblings, and stops at the stern rail in close-up. The flashlight is gone.)
Rainbow: (dramatically, gesturing past it) Behold—evil magic!
(Zoom out to frame the other six now standing behind her and murmuring confusedly. Once she catches on, she leans over the rail for a better look and is absolutely thunderstruck by whatever she sees.)
Rainbow: Wh— (Impatient sigh.) —huh?
(A longer shot points out that the water beyond the rail is back to its normally choppy self, with no trace of supernatural emblems whatsoever.)
Rainbow: The whole ocean was glowing a minute ago! I-It went “whoosh-whoosh-whoosh” w-with little ribbon thingies!
Twilight: (coldly) Do you know which sorcerer can conjure up the greatest magic of all? (Rainbow turns to her.) Mother Nature.
Rainbow: What?
Twilight: What you saw was probably nothing more than an innate phosphorescent biochemical property of common algae.
Rainbow: Whaaaaat? I-If that’s what you think, then let’s get in lifeboats and I’ll prove it! (pointing over rail) The magic came from that way. We sail out and find the source.
Twilight: And then?
Rainbow: Then it’s go time!
Twilight: Which means?
Rainbow: We take no prisoners!
Twilight: (dryly) Where would we take them?
Rainbow: Who?
Twilight: The prisoners! That’s kidnapping! Are you even listening to yourself?
Rainbow: (snarling, pointing at Twilight) You don’t want me to be right because you’re scared to be a superhero!
Twilight: (shoving hand away) We’re not superheroes!
Rainbow: (sputtering, sarcastically) Oh, oh, excuse me! We’re just ordinary girls who have saved the world from complete destruction multiple times!
Twilight: Uh, yes.
Rainbow: Keep telling yourself that. But the rest of us aren’t in denial. (pacing past Twilight) Right, everyone? Let’s get to those boats and do what we do best! (raising both fists) Who’s with me?
(The others’ lack of eye contact and sotto-voce grumblings tell it all, and the would-be adventure seeker lowers her arms with a groan.)
Rainbow: Okay. That’s the last time I say that.
(As she walks past them, Twilight is the only one whose face softens, as if wondering whether her reaction was a bit too harsh. Dissolve to a long shot of the stern and pan a short distance to starboard; the lightning that had earlier quieted down begins again, shaking the entire craft as the camera cuts to the dining room. Everyone here has put on a life jacket; the same will be true of all other passengers from here on out unless otherwise noted. Cut to one table at which Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity are sitting with trays of food; Applejack moans woozily and lays her greening face on her forearms, the only one of the three to forgo a meal. Rarity pats her gently on the back before the camera pans to a glum Twilight sitting alone at one end. She listlessly picks at the omelet on her plate with her fork while Sunset brings over a tray of her own and sits across from her. All five have changed into the outfits they wore leading up to the concert, but Rarity is not wearing her sunglasses.)
Twilight: I wasn’t very nice to Rainbow Dash last night.
Sunset: No one’s blaming you for wanting to give us a normal spring break. (Cut to Twilight on the end of this, then back to her.) We’d be having one if it weren’t for me. I brought magic to this world in the first place.
Twilight: I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world—in any world.
(She reaches across the table to lay a hand on Sunset’s.)
Sunset: (smiling) Aw…same here. (standing up, returning the gesture) How about we make sure Rainbow Dash knows that too?
(The violet face mirrors the smile on the yellow-orange one. Cut to just outside the dining room’s closed doors, Pinkie sitting in a dejected little huddle against the wall off to one side. These open to let Twilight and Sunset emerge, their old fire returning, and swing shut again. The frizzy-haired dynamo sighs to herself, brokenhearted over not being allowed to join her friends inside, but brightens with a gasp upon seeing a tray held out to her by Fluttershy. The offering earns a silverware-rattling hug, which in turn elicits a soft giggle from the yellow girl. Pinkie wears her original outfit under her life jacket and, like Rarity, has put away her tinted lenses.)
(Cut to Twilight and Sunset walking the deck.)
Twilight: (voice raised) Rainbow Dash! Let’s have a do-over!
(Turning toward the rail, Sunset finds one of the rubber lifeboats missing from the suspension mounts that protrude from the hull.)
Sunset: You don’t think she went off into the storm, do you?
Twilight: (pulling out her phone) Oh. I’ll call her.
(A tap, and up comes a picture of a winking, smirking Rainbow, accompanied by ringing that gives way to the daredevil’s voice.)
Rainbow: (on phone) What up, nerds? It’s Rainbow Dash, having way too much fun being awesome to answer your call. (Zoom in on the thickening clouds, putting Twilight and Sunset out of view.) So leave a message, if you’re too old to text me.
(A voice mail greeting, then. Fade to black.)
Act Four
(Opening shot: fade in to a thick fog bank, which parts to frame the immobilized ship as the camera zooms in. The remaining six Rainbooms are standing near one end of the row of lifeboats, and a close-up of one shows the supplies being tossed in: towel, first aid kit, life preserver. Cut to the deck; Sunset has been loading up the gear. Fluttershy is holding Mr. Bouncy, the rabbit from the petting zoo.)
Twilight: You’re going after her?
Sunset: She wouldn’t even be out there if I hadn’t brought magic to this world in the first place. (Pause.) What about you? Are you in?
Twilight: Of course I’m in! A hundred percent on board!
(Which evidently means “on board the ship”—at least until Sunset gestures toward the rail.)
Sunset: Then get on board. (She puts a hand to Twilight’s shoulder.)
Twilight: I just said I… (It sinks in.) …“on board.”
(Trepidation spray-paints itself all over her face as she moves toward the boats. A labored huff from Applejack’s general vicinity; pan to her, face normal and hand to belly.)
Applejack: I’ll fix the engine while you’re gone. We’ll be ready to go before that storm hits us.
(She groans groggily and totters on her feet, saved from keeling over only by Pinkie’s supporting arms.)
Sunset: But you’re seasick. Going below deck is the worst thing you could do. (Applejack muscles her gorge down.)
Applejack: Not worse than losin’ Rainbow Dash.
Pinkie: (saluting) I’ll help keep people calm! (under her breath) Get cake. (aloud) I mean, keep people calm! (Cut to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: And I’ll make sure there’s life jackets for everyone— (to Mr. Bouncy) —even grandchildren. (Zoom out to frame Applejack/Pinkie/Rarity.)
Rarity: (melodramatically) And I’ll inform the below-deck crew that even though we’re from two different worlds, one a lonely coal miner— (cradling Applejack’s chin) —the other a sophisticated beaut—
(The soliloquy grinds to a halt at a fresh lurch of Applejack’s gut.)
Rarity: (clearing throat, blushing) I mean…I’ll, uh, I’ll, uh, I’ll help Applejack.
(By now, Twilight is already over the side and in the lifeboat.)
Sunset: (climbing in; Twilight waves to others) We’ll find Rainbow Dash and be back as soon as possible. (to Twilight) Let’s go!
(The bespectacled girl quickly warms up her hands and telekinetically lowers the rig toward the water. Cut to a head-on close-up of the pair, Sunset keeping an intent lookout up front as Twilight guns the outboard motor. Water splashes around the bow, their hair streams wildly backward in the wind—but a longer shot reveals that their boat is still tethered to the ship’s rail by a rope. An over-shoulder glance apprises Sunset of this little boo-boo.)
Sunset: You forgot to untie the rope.
Twilight: (chagrined) Oh, yeah.
(A moment’s work, and she has undone and thrown off the line so the lifeboat can zoom away. The fog gradually clears before them to present a craggy island surrounded by treacherous outcroppings that extend well out from the shore. The two rescuers pilot the craft through the maelstrom, exchanging fearful glances at a lightning strike far too close for comfort, and find a safe course through the jagged rocks toward the beach. Twilight cuts the motor so that they drift to a stop on the sand, and Sunset shades her eyes for a brief look off to one side.)
Sunset: (pointing that direction) There! That’s her boat!
(She hops out and dashes away, tossing her life jacket back, and Twilight fumbles with the buckle securing hers. Sunset soon finds a second lifeboat and discarded jacket, but no evidence of Rainbow; after a quick scrutiny of the item, she lets it drop with a mildly disgusted glare.)
Sunset: (voice raised) Rainbow Dash! (Twilight catches up, her jacket gone.)
Twilight: Any sign of her?
(Sunset shakes her head; after a pensive moment, both pairs of eyes turn toward the heavily forested inland region.)
Twilight: You don’t think she…
(Cut to the dense foliage, amid which several pairs of glowing, unfriendly eyes open in the shadows.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) …went in there?
(Cut back to the pair, who chew this prospect over with clear unease. Their ponderings are cut short by a parrot squawk; cut to an overhead shot that frames this brightly colored bird regarding them from a tree branch.)
Sunset: Where’s Fluttershy when we need her? (It scratches itself a bit and squawks again.)
Parrot: I’m going in that jungle!
Sunset: (puzzled) “I’m going in that jungle”? (to Twilight) The parrot must be repeating what she said! Let’s go!
(The violet girl’s eyes flick between her and the jungle, the rest of her on the verge of total panic.)
Twilight: In there?
(Lightning crashes above the overgrown plant life and malevolent animal eyes, strong winds tear at the vines and fronds, and various beastly silhouettes within the shadows make their displeasure known in their own ways. Zoom in quickly to a close-up of Twilight.)
Twilight: (small voice) Anyone could’ve said that. (Squawk; cut to frame both and the parrot.)
Parrot: Or my name isn’t Rainbow Dash! (Another.)
Twilight: (groaning) Fine!
(Crossing the beach, they begin to push their way into the tropical tangle. Sunset, in the lead, eases a hanging vine up and out of her way as the pairs of eyes gleam from all angles; as Twilight does likewise, though, a bat flutters out of a recess to throw a scare into her. The violet scientist cries out and tries to wave it away, only to give up and flee after Sunset with a scream. Farther along, the red/gold-haired girl pushes a broad leaf out of her own way, letting it snap back just in time to strike Twilight across the face and bring up an annoyed little snarl. Sunset moves steadily along through the trackless terrain, but Twilight trips over a rock in her haste and pitches forward, throwing up a wash of mud that covers the screen. This drains away to frame her measuring at least half her height in a large puddle. She peels her face up with a pained moan, but is back on her feet and catching up to Sunset in fairly short order. The next time that Sunset moves a leaf, Twilight has the presence of mind to duck when it swings back into place; she smirks and giggles at it, only to walk directly into the path of a hanging spider. It ends up holding fast to her nose, prompting her to yell and run wildly ahead while trying to bat it away. A few steps later, she has rid herself of the arachnid and removed her glasses; these go back on with a groan as she closes the gap between herself and Sunset again.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) HEEEEEEELP!!
(That yell freezes both explorers in their tracks for a moment, but they swiftly get their legs back in gear and plow ahead. Cut to another stretch of jungle.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) HEEELP!!
(Pan/tilt down to ground level, showing her immersed to waist level in a pit of quicksand and liberally smeared with the stuff. Enough of her clothing is visible to establish that she, like the others, has taken time to change back into her pre-concert togs.)
Rainbow: HEEEEEEEELP!! (She strains briefly to pull free—no dice—and addresses herself bitterly.) Way to go, Rainbow Dash. You did it again. You had to go off on your own, didn’t you?
Sunset: (from o.s.) Rainbow Dash!
(The trapped teen looks toward the edge of the pit, the camera angle shifting ever so slightly to pick out Twilight and Sunset closing in fast.)
Rainbow: Oh, hey! (catching herself, chuckling casually) Uh…’sup? (Squelch.) Um, just taking a rest in here, you know. Finding evil magic is hard work.
Twilight: (pointedly) Did you find any?
Rainbow: (drawing an arc in the surface) Nah. Just quicksand. (A surprised noise from Sunset.)
Sunset: Don’t struggle! We’ll find something to pull you out. (She begins to search in the undergrowth.)
Rainbow: Struggle? (She does exactly that for a second.) Who’s struggling?
(Twilight responds with a fed-up little shake of her head and a soft grumble.)
Twilight: (walking off, under her breath) Typical Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow: (contritely) I-I’ve had a little time to think. (Blurp.) A lot of time, actually. And I spent most of it wishing I could make it up to you, because you were right
(A squawk; zoom out and pan to frame the parrot now perched on a low branch overhead.)
Parrot: Twilight’s wrong!
Rainbow: (really embarrassed) Anyone could’ve said that.
Parrot: (squawking) Or my name isn’t Rainbow Dash!
Rainbow: (to herself) Uh…gottas stop saying my name all the time.
(The jibe is not lost on its target, who has found a long, thin limb protruding from a tree trunk and breaks it loose with a contemptuous scoff. Zoom in slowly on the half-submerged jock.)
Rainbow: I was a little annoyed at first, but I’ll admit it. I ruined everyone’s spring break for nothing. There’s no magic out here. Nothing magical at all.
(On this last sentence, a broad shadow begins to loom over her from behind and the camera cuts back to solid ground. Sunset’s eyes widen in sudden fear, and she puts a hand out to stop Twilight’s approach with the limb. The purple peepers copy the blue-green ones, the wood falling from nerveless fingers and clattering to the jungle floor, and tentacles begin to creep toward her ankles from the lightless expanse.)
Rainbow: The only villain trying to ruin spring break… (slumping as best she can) …was me.
(A few drops of greenish fluid spatter down on the crown of her baseball cap, jolting her out of this bout of self-pity.)
Sunset: (small voice) And maybe that giant plant monster?
Rainbow: What giant plant monster?
Twilight: (pointing up across pit) That giant plant monster!
(A longer shot of the area frames the cause of her fear: a massive, viny growth topped by a set of growling jaws that call to mind a Venus flytrap after a serious fertilizer overdose. Sunset screams as the dripping maw lowers itself hungrily toward Rainbow, whose own lungs kick into high gear when it goes in for the final lunge. The teeth never make contact, stopped just short by Twilight’s magic.)
Rainbow: GET ME OUTTA HERE!!
Twilight: (straining) We’re trying!
(She extends her hold over the tendrils trying to snatch her and Sunset, while the former unicorn grabs up the discarded limb and drops to one knee at the edge of the pit, holding it out for Rainbow. It proves to be a few inches too short, despite the imperiled teen’s best effort to reach the free end.)
Rainbow: Try harder!
(So Sunset lowers her stance a bit more to close the gap; now Rainbow is able to wrap all her fingers around the limb. As Sunset tries with all her strength to reel her friend in, one of Twilight’s hands loses its power. She gasps in fright, seeing the great beast wrench itself completely free of her aura with a guttural roar, and its strike at the surface of the pit sends up splatters of quicksand and snaps the limb. Motes and beams of golden light flare up from the hit; Sunset throws aside the bit she still holds and kneels at the edge, one hand extended.)
Sunset: Take my hand! (Rainbow, now submerged to the chin, eyes her with a scoff.)
Rainbow: Take your hand?
(A few bubbles pop around her, releasing more gleams of light, and she blows at the surface as if trying to cool it off.)
Sunset: I’ve seen something like this before!
(Brushing some of the muck aside, she is rewarded with a swirling expanse of warm yellow energy just below the surface.)
Sunset: This is definitely Equestrian magic!
(Twilight gets her mojo working again, just in time to stop the great green behemoth from helping itself to an appetizer of Rainbow tartare. The vines think very little of the interruption, coiling in around her as she exerts every molecule of her being to keep them at bay.)
Twilight: (straining) I can’t hold it back much longer!
Sunset: (to Rainbow) I have a way out of this. Do you trust me?
Rainbow: Of course!
Sunset: (reaching toward Rainbow’s forehead) See you soon!
(One hard shove plunges the captive entirely into the pit, producing a gunk-choked scream.)
Twilight: (horrified) DID YOU JUST—
Sunset: I’ll explain later. We jump on three.
(The behemoth breaks Twilight’s hold again and uncorks a jungle-shaking roar of fury; the backlash throws her off balance, but Sunset is there to catch her.)
Sunset: (hastily, toppling backwards toward pit) One, two, three! (A growl drifts down as the action shifts to slow motion.)
Twilight: (half speed) NOOOOO!!
(They splash into the quicksand and are lost to sight. Normal speed resumes, a broad beam of yellow light surging up from the pit, and a long shot of the island shows it lancing up into the bruised and sullen storm clouds. It dissipates after a long blast, and the view fades to black.)
(Fade in to a very dimly lit expanse of natural rock wall. A roughly circular aperture filled with swirls of the incandescent power flares up briefly on this, disgorging a dribble of quicksand, and the camera pans/tilts down through this space to the sound of flowing water. Twilight’s eyes are the first to open, accompanied by the sound of Sunset heaving for breath. The next three lines reverberate slightly.)
Twilight: Where are we? (Rainbow opens her eyes.)
Rainbow: Not about to get eaten. Good enough for me. (Sunset follows suit.)
Sunset: It’s…more complicated than that.
(A unicorn’s horn flares up above the blue-green irises, powered by the red glow of her magic, and builds power to fully illuminate the area. All three are now ponies, standing near the base of a waterfall in a cavern—they have crossed over into Equestria. They have lost their clothes and pendant stones and are clean of the quicksand and plant residue. Twilight and Rainbow are exact copies of their pony counterparts, with two differences on the former’s part: she still wears her glasses and is a standard-issue, non-winged unicorn.)
Rainbow: (awestruck) Whoa…
(She tries an experimental flap of her wings; across the way, Twilight gasps and claps both front hooves to her cheeks, her brain locked solid out of sheer panic. Purple eyes contract to bloodshot pinpoints as a scream of mind-shattering terror rips free of her throat at last. Snap to black.)
Act Five
(Opening shot: fade in to a very long shot of Canterlot—the city in Equestria, that is—during the day and tilt down slowly to the sound of Twilight’s scream. Spooked birds scatter from the treetops in all directions before the camera cuts to a close-up of a pool of water that reflects the frantic face of the newly minted unicorn. She cries out again upon getting a good look at herself, then tacks on another scream just to drive the point home with a jackhammer.)
Twilight: (pulling at cheeks) PONY FAAACE!!
(Longer shot: she is now sitting on her haunches by the pool, and Sunset hurries over to her. The overgrown greenery behind them suggests that they are now in the Everfree Forest.)
Sunset: Twilight, you’re okay. This is supposed to happen.
(The bookish mare manages only stunned half-words as she takes in the not inconsiderable changes to her anatomy.)
Twilight: All my things are horse things!
Sunset: Around here we call them “pony things.”
Rainbow: (plummeting/swooping past) INCOMING!!
(The yelling, headlong flight carries her into a clump of bushes and ends with a thud and grunt of pain. Twilight cringes mightily, while Sunset puts a fed-up hoof to her face.)
Sunset: (to Twilight) That wasn’t quicksand back there. (levitating Rainbow out) The sand was covering a portal to Equestria.
(Once on the turf, the novice pegasus sullenly shakes her head clear and clean of debris.)
Sunset: I thought there was only one, from school to Celestia’s mirror, but…who knows how many there are and where they might lead?
(During this line, Rainbow tries and fails to nail down the basics of hovering, instead doing a backwards flip so that she lands flat on her back. Cut to a suddenly calm Twilight and Sunset.)
Twilight: Sorry, I wasn’t listening— (shrilly, grabbing Sunset) —BECAUSE WE’RE PONIES!! (Cut to frame Rainbow, now standing, on the next line.)
Rainbow: You know, Twilight, since I kinda messed things up on the boat, maybe this could be your vacation. (Back to Twilight and Sunset.)
Twilight: (smiling, calmly) Hm.
Rainbow: (from o.s.) We’re here— (Back to her.) —we’re ponies— (winking) —let’s have some fun!
(She rises to her hind legs, holding a front hoof out as if for a high five.)
Rainbow: Pony style!
(Not being used to this body, she loses her balance and lurches forward with a shout to get four on the floor again.)
Sunset: Uh, that’s not a thing we say.
Twilight: This would be a fantastic opportunity to study the physical laws of a novel dimension.
Sunset: Shouldn’t we be getting back?
Rainbow: It’s just a little rain. I’m sure our friends are fine.
(Cut to a long overhead shot of the stranded ship, a fork of lightning lancing into the water at close range. Screams drift up through the night; cut to Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rarity on the deck. They scream and recoil from a spark that ricochets off the planks, barely missing their feet and leaving a large, smoking scorch mark. The next shot is of the engine room, where Applejack has taken Twilight’s place on the wheeled dolly to work on the underside of the equipment. Ragamuffin has joined the three stewards who were already assigned to this spot; all four are wearing safety goggles, and they work with hand tools and check the panels as puffs of smoke drift up from floor level. The apple expert straightens up, kitted out in her own goggles and work gloves and liberally smeared with oil, and wipes her forehead with a groan before picking up and activating a walkie-talkie. She is not jacketed.)
Applejack: Breaker, breaker four and a half, this is Red Delicious requestin’ a storm status update. Over.
(A blat of feedback from the device; cut to the trio on the deck. Rarity has the other handset.)
Rarity: Ahoy, uh, matey. This is Rarity. Please repeat…the words you said.
(Another flash across the sky sets them to squealing in fear and grabbing at one another. This one takes the form of the Storm King’s insignia before pouring itself into a jagged bolt that caroms crazily along the walkway, forcing the girls to hit the deck. Sandalwood, a short distance away, runs for it after nearly getting fried; now Rarity goes for the walkie again.)
Rarity: I’m beginning to wonder if—
(She screams upon nearly getting her head blown off by a new blast and reflexively loses her hold on the device, which goes flying over the rail and splashes into the ocean.)
Rarity: —this is no ordinary storm! (Long pause.)
Pinkie: I don’t think she heard you.
(Rarity just gives her a very funny look, but cuts it short when the next one comes within yards of deep-frying her face. All three girls scream and duck behind the rail.)
(Dissolve to a long overhead shot of Ponyville and zoom in slowly. It is a peaceful day, and a cut to one particular street points up just how ordinary that day is. The camera pans slightly to frame the corner of one house, from which the three visitors furtively peer down the block.)
Sunset: (whispering) We’d better keep a low profile. Follow my lead.
(She ducks out of sight, Rainbow hot on her heels; Twilight, though, takes a second to catch on and follow them. In a trice, they are peeking out from a shrub in front of one business, drawing the puzzled attention of a passing colt before they drop out of sight again. Just as quickly, they are galloping along an elevated bridge that connects this structure to the next one in line, then popping their heads up from two full barrels of apples minded by Big Macintosh. He does not spot them due to having his head turned elsewhere, but is very puzzled indeed to find some of the fruit tumbling onto the road and bouncing off his head—displaced by the mares’ sudden emergence. By the time he turns to run a puzzled eye over the barrels, they have bailed out and are hustling away.)
(Close-up of the three coming to a stop; Rainbow runs into Sunset from behind, prompting a neigh of combined irritation and surprise. Zoom out quickly to put Pony Rainbow in the fore a short distance away; she has her back to them and thus pays no mind, but the stallion with whom she is talking has a clear view of the doppelganger and is staring bug-eyed and openmouthed. The three retreat out of sight as he tries to point them out but faints, leaving one very baffled flyer alone. Finally she glances back over her shoulder toward the group’s former location, only to catch sight of Pony Applejack hauling a cart down the street. The two wave greeting to one another, neither spotting the trio hunched down among the supplies.)
(As Pony Applejack travels past the Castle of Friendship, Sunset climbs out of the cart and uses her magic to hoist Twilight and Rainbow clear and hide them in a bush. Having drawn a puzzled and mildly annoyed glare from Twinkleshine, she offers a big goofy grin and hastily backs up into the shrubbery so that all three are out of sight. An instant later, they peek out from the rooftop of a house closer to the royal residence, then duck away and pop up from a still-nearer bush. After hunkering down again, the whole thing rises on twelve hooves and gets walked toward the front door as mobile camouflage.)
(Cut to the throne room, its central map table bare, and pan slowly to one side where a tall ladder has been set up at the wall. Spike is standing at its peak to hang a painting, while Princess Twilight supervises from ground level and is lending her field to the effort. The little dragon struggles and heaves to follow her directions.)
[Note: The School of Friendship is not visible near the Castle in this sequence, and Spike does not have his wings. These two details suggest that this special takes place sometime between My Little Pony: The Movie and the start of Season 8.]
Princess Twilight: A little higher on the left…now on the right… (The doors behind her open, revealing mares and bush at the threshold.) …a little more…
(Turning away from the work, she notices Sunset among the leaves and voices a happy little gasp. Cut to the doorway.)
Princess Twilight: (from o.s.) Sunset Shimmer!
Sunset: (galloping in) Twilight!
(Twilight and Rainbow get their heads clear and trade a smile, knowing that they are in friendly territory. Up top, Princess Twilight’s magic fades from the painting—limp, deflated pony forms amid a surreal landscape of fruit slices and drinks—and Spike has to put every bit of his muscle into keeping it aloft. Sovereign and student-at-large race to each other.)
Princess Twilight: It’s wonderful to see you. (They embrace.) What are you doing here?
Sunset: It’s a long story.
Princess Twilight: (puzzled) Wait. How are you coming in the front door and not up from where I keep the mirror? (Huge gasp.) You found another portal between our worlds! (Twilight and Rainbow enter the throne room, free of the bush and brushing off leaves.)
Sunset: I guess it wasn’t that long.
Twilight: Oh, I like her!
Princess Twilight: Rainbow Dash!
Spike: Whoa! (He drops the painting.)
Princess Twilight: Other me! Good to see you both again. (concernedly) What about the others?
Sunset: Oh, they’re back home waiting for us, but they’re fine. (Twilight and Rainbow nod.) No reason to hurry back.
(The glare of lightning plays over the three commuters and subsides to show that he view has changed to a terrified Fluttershy aboard the ship. A life-jacketed pig sits next to her.)
Fluttershy: Oh, I hope they hurry back!
(Overhead shot of the area, zooming in: the lounge overlooking the pool. Pinkie runs up to her and Rarity, seated on couches and looking after both the pig and a similarly attired sheep—two refugees from the petting zoo. Close-up of the new arrival.)
Pinkie: Applejack said to tell you she’s about to reconnect the engine and we might feel a little jolt.
Fluttershy: Oh! When?
Pinkie: Eh, she didn’t say.
(All is quiet for a moment until the ship instantly buzzes up to a patently unsafe speed. The sheer acceleration prompts a yell from all three, dumps Pinkie on her rump, and nearly hurls Fluttershy and Rarity off the couches. Pan quickly ahead of them and cut to a long profile shot of the speeding vessel, a babel of screams drifting across the unfriendly sea. In the engine room, Applejack pulls her head out of the enclosure where she has been working.)
Applejack: I can’t slow it down! (Lightning strike; she holds up her walkie-talkie.) And we just lost steering!
(A jolt causes her to drop it, and the ship continues its uncontrolled charge. Cut to a close-up of a merry Spike in the throne room of the Castle.)
Spike: And that’s the last time I ever went to a dragon wedding!
(Zoom out to frame him standing on the map table. Seated around it, his boss and the visitors laugh heartily at the conclusion of this yarn as he takes his small seat. Princess Twilight is on her own throne, while Sunset has commandeered Pony Applejack’s.)
Princess Twilight: (to the trio) Oh, you have to try Ms. Cake’s [sic] chocolate fondue. It takes twenty minutes, though.
(Cut to Twilight/Rainbow on their side of the table—in Pony Pinkie’s and Pony Rarity’s places, respectively.)
Twilight: Eh, we have all the time in the world.
(Cut to Pinkie, running madly along the deck with hands to head.)
Pinkie: WE’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!!
(She catches up to Fluttershy and Rarity near the pool, the latter holding the pig.)
Pinkie: (grabbing Fluttershy’s shoulders) Watch out for rocks! (The deck tips backward; they go sliding and Fluttershy and Rarity scream.) WATCH OUT FOR EVERYTHING!!
(She adds her own scared-out-of-her-wits vocal part when the camera shifts to the starboard rail, riding along with the ship toward the island. This scream hangs in the air as the view cuts to Sunset and Rainbow in the throne room, whose table is now littered with souvenirs from the Equestria contingent’s past adventures. An intrigued Rainbow toys with a torch used in the Equestria Games, but Sunset turns her head as if trying to perceive the source of the phantom sound.)
Sunset: Did you hear that? It sounded like Pinkie Pie yelling.
(Rainbow puts her ears to the task, but gets only the faint sound of squeaking wheels. Zoom out quickly to frame Princess Twilight across from them as the closed throne room doors swing open to admit Pony Pinkie and the loaded snack cart she is pushing—the cause of the squeak. The bush that Twilight, Rainbow, and Sunset used for cover has been cleared away.)
Pony Pinkie: I was yelling, silly—standing at the front door yelling, “Fondue delivery!”
(She holds up a small bowl of melted chocolate on these last two words; only afterward does she take notice of Twilight and Rainbow.)
Pony Pinkie: Oh, hey, Rainbow Dash, pony with glasses who I don’t recognize. (sliding bowl across table) Here.
(Cut to the trio and the bowl.)
Pony Pinkie: (from o.s.) You have to try this.
(Three handles protrude from the surface. Sunset pulls one free with her magical hold, finding a coated marshmallow skewered on the other, and chows down. Rainbow flips another one free and gets it pinned between her front hooves.)
Pony Pinkie: (from o.s.) It’s a fresh batch!
(A bite leaves the sweet stuff smeared across Rainbow’s lips and brings a twinge of pain to the blue face. She sets her skewer down, and Sunset returns hers to the bowl on the next line.)
Rainbow: (grunting, sounding as if she has burned her tongue) Ow! Hot! Too hot! It needs to be like, twenty percent cooler.
(Twilight fires up her horn and maneuvers the last unused skewer toward herself, but actually getting marshmallow to mouth proves a bigger challenge than expected. First she nearly bites down on the shaft; next she pokes the treat against her cheek, then her glasses; finally—and very messily—she puts it on target and eats.)
Twilight: Mmmm! I love this!
(A lightning strike changes the view to a close-up of Rarity sliding across the deck on her belly, having let go of the pig.)
Rarity: I HATE THIS!!
(Zoom out quickly; she, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and the porker fetch up against the rails at the prow to the sound of yells and grunts. The three girls pull themselves up with some effort.)
Fluttershy: I can’t take much more of this!
Pinkie: (staring fearfully ahead) You might not have to!
(The ship is bearing down on the jagged outcroppings that surround the island; all three gasp at the impending peril.)
Pinkie: (pointing) Rock ho!
(The ship grazes one of them, sustaining a long gash in the hull, and they scream while fighting a losing battle to keep their footing. In the engine room, Applejack—now wearing a life jacket—and Ragamuffin are the only ones still on duty; she has cleaned the oil off herself, and she yells as the area goes into a funky cha-cha. The damage done, the ship begins to sink among the rocks; passengers in the corridors scream and flee before the inrush of water. In the auditorium, though, Trixie has taken the stage to do her magic show for a new audience. A vase stands on a small table next to her, and the paraphernalia from the impromptu jig jam session in Act Three has been cleared out.)
Trixie: Behold! The vase is now empty. The question is, can the Great and Powerful Trixie bring the water back?
(She wiggles her fingers intently over the container, but is genuinely surprised to hear a growing rumble. A quick mental gear change, and she is playing it off as part of the act—but showmanship goes out the window when the entire room shakes and water starts to pour in from the corridor. The spectators run screaming for their lives.)
Trixie: Oh, no. I’m too powerful. (running) I’M TOO POWERFUL!!
(Cut to Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rarity gathering at the rail.)
Fluttershy: (gasping) We’re…sinking!
(Zoom out quickly to a long shot of the foundering ship as lightning rips the sky, then cut to an overhead shot of the four mares and one now-napping dragon in the throne room. Zoom in slowly; Pony Pinkie and the fondue equipment are gone, the doors are closed, and Twilight and Rainbow have cleaned themselves up. Rainbow’s voice will be back to normal when she speaks next.)
Princess Twilight: And that was the time I was rescued by my own pupil! (Giggle; close-up.) Which really gave me some perspective on the importance of mentoring.
Twilight: You ponies are like superheroes! (Rainbow throws her a calculating grin.)
Princess Twilight: Oh, we’re not superheroes.
Twilight: (slyly, but deflating little by little) Sure. Just ordinary ponies who save the world from complete destruction multiple times.
Rainbow: Sound familiar?
(The grin gets bigger and more insufferable, and Twilight cringes a bit at having resorted to using the words she dismissed so easily in the pair’s Act Three argument.)
Princess Twilight: Here’s a good one.
(She conjures up a long, slim parcel and sets it to floating vertically above the table. As she speaks, the camera zooms in slowly on it and she lets her field undo the wrappings to reveal the Staff of Sacanas—the artifact with which the Storm King had intended to rule the land.)
Princess Twilight: This is from our battle with the Storm King. He stole our magic and used it to create the most powerful storm in Equestria.
(Twilight and Sunset watch the show with visible appreciation, but Rainbow’s attention is focused on the discarded cloths—and the Storm King insignia plainly visible on one free end. In a close-up of this and slow zoom in, her mind’s eye briefly overlays the ocean and the glowing sigil she saw; on the end of the next line, the real thing flares pale blue and she gasps softly in recognition.)
Princess Twilight: (from o.s.) But luckily my friends and I were able to work together to drain his magic and seal his power…
(Cut to frame the entire table; she indicates the Staff.)
Princess Twilight: …into this.
Twilight, Sunset: (awed) Whoa… (Rainbow pulls the cloth-end to herself.)
Rainbow: (thoughtfully) That symbol looks familiar.
Princess Twilight: You’ve…seen this before?
Rainbow: (setting it down) It’s just… (Sigh.) …that symbol. It looks exactly like what I thought I saw in the water when we were back on the boat. But…we decided the magic glow was just Mother Nature.
Princess Twilight: (slightly rattled, floating cloth-end up) When you saw the thing that looked exactly like this thing, there wasn’t any thunder or lightning accompanying it… (Nervous chuckle.) …right?
Sunset: Uh, there was definitely thunder.
Twilight: Affirmative on the thunder. (Rainbow grimaces and says nothing.)
Princess Twilight: Okay.
(She lets the wrappings drop, vanishes the Staff, and flies to the others. On the next line, she lands alongside them and the camera zooms in to a close-up.)
Princess Twilight: (increasingly unnerved) Nopony freak out, but I think maybe there’s a chance when we destroyed the Storm King, we didn’t capture all his magic and maybe a bit found its way into your world. It might be turning into a giant magic storm and threatening your friends as we speak! NOPONY FREAK OUT!! (One eye twitches alarmingly; Sunset stands up on her seat.)
Sunset: Our friends! (Twilight follows suit.)
Twilight: We have to go back! (Rainbow ditto, more calmly.)
Rainbow: Ladies…
(A couple of leisurely flaps bring her to the center of the table, where she settles into a confident stance.)
Rainbow: …it’s hero time!
(Snap to black.)
Act Six
(Opening shot: snap to the helpless ship, caught on the rocks and battered by the relentless onslaught of wind-driven water. The engine room begins to flood, sending its three crew members scrambling for an exit; Applejack has already cleared out. The door leading to the auditorium flies open so the audience members can keep ahead of the torrent gushing after them. Near the pool, Flash has seized a stair banister to hold his place on the tilting deck and ends up in the perfect position to grab the arm of a woman sliding past. The whole area is now awash, towels and furniture drifting lazily this way and that. Cut to Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rarity at the prow.)
Fluttershy: We’re sinking!
Pinkie: TO THE LIFEBOATS!!
(Lightning tears through the clouds; close-up of one suspended boat as it is struck and drops off its hooks, reduced to a charred and smoking derelict. A longer shot reveals that every remaining craft has suffered the same fate and is being swallowed up by the waves.)
Pinkie: And there go the lifeboats. (scared) That was a very specific lightning strike.
(Which is promptly followed by a real boomer…and another…and another. Passengers shuck and jive in every conceivable direction to avoid the bolts now lancing into the deck. A midair flare of light resolves into the Storm King’s emblem, sending a jolt of fear through all who see it even though they know nothing of its origin. Cut to the shore of the island; Twilight, Rainbow, and Sunset emerge from the jungle as humans, their clothing and pendant stones restored, and get a good look at the offshore mayhem. Twilight is carrying the Staff.)
Rainbow: No time to lose! Let’s do this!
Twilight: (holding Staff with crystal end up) Everybody grab on!
Sunset: Right.
(Yellow-orange fingers wrap around the gnarled wood beneath the violet ones, light blue above, and the crystal flares to life and emits a broad beam of golden light into the sky. Crackling tendrils of dark power are drawn to it from the clouds, dragging the tyrant’s mark with them, and the threatening thunderheads above the ship begin to clear in favor of a tranquil afternoon sky. Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rarity step to the rail for a better view of the action on the island, where the three dimension-jumpers are maintaining an iron grip on the Staff. Slowly but surely, the raging magic is pulled into the crystal, and the whole place goes quiet as the clouds break up here as well. Rainbow and Sunset let go, leaving Twilight holding the artifact.)
Twilight: Weather update—sunny.
Rainbow: With a chance of awesome.
Sunset: I can’t believe how easy that was.
Twilight: I think we all learned a valuable lesson today. (Distant screams from the sinking ship.)
Rainbow: (not noticing) I learned we don’t have to go looking for trouble. (A distress flare is launched, bursting in a shower of sparks.) We just have to be there for each other when it finds us.
Twilight: But I guess if you hadn’t run off, we wouldn’t have what we need to go back and save our friends.
Rainbow: All part of the plan.
(The parrot that tipped her rescuers off in Act Four voices a squawk to get their attention.)
Parrot: (gesturing out to sea with a wing) The ship is still sinking!
(It pulls the appendage in with another squawk; cut to an uncomprehending Twilight and Rainbow.)
Sunset: (from o.s., panicked) Guys! (Zoom out to frame her; she points ahead.) The ship is sinking!
(Cut to a long shot of it and zoom in quickly, the passengers’ screams coming through with great clarity now as it slowly descends.)
Twilight: Oh, no!
Sunset: (running toward shore) We gotta help them!
(Twilight plants the Staff upright in the sand and gets her feet in gear, leaving Rainbow to hear one last interjection from the bird. In perhaps one second flat, Twilight and Sunset have boarded one lifeboat and donned life jackets, and Twilight pulls the cord on the motor but is unable to get it to turn over.)
Twilight: It won’t start! (The stone on Rainbow’s wristband flares blue.)
Rainbow: It’s hero time!
(A tap, and her super speed kicks in. Sunset has taken over for Twilight in the fight against the recalcitrant motor; both get a big shock when the speed demon begins pushing them out to sea herself.)
Rainbow: Yeah!
(Water gushes over the screen, kicked up by their abrupt departure, and clears to show her providing the motive power for the trip. Applejack catches up to Fluttershy/Pinkie/Rarity on deck; she has done away with her work gloves and safety goggles and scrubbed off the oil stains, and Fluttershy cradles the sheep she and Rarity were looking after in Act Four. The ship shakes, rattles and rolls as the lifeboat and its three screaming passengers arc up over the rail and make the world’s worst landing. Relieved smiles come over every face, punctuated by a gasp from Pinkie; Twilight and Sunset have remained upright in the lifeboat, but the impact has thrown Rainbow forward so that her head is stuck under one of its plank seats.)
Twilight: (climbing out with Sunset) Are you guys okay? (Rainbow extricates herself, the other four run to them.)
Pinkie: Oh, you’re back!
(She demonstrates her joy by laying a crushing, squealing hug on the brainiac.)
Pinkie: (rapid fire) While you were gone, we fixed the boat, but then we crashed into a rock and we’re sinking, so… (Deep breath, then normal speed; she starts crying.) …WE RUINED YOUR SPRING BREAK!!
(She sobs heartily, but falls silent as Twilight pushes her back gently.)
Twilight: It’s not your fault. The storm was Equestrian magic. Rainbow Dash was right all along. (Cut to a slow pan across Applejack/Fluttershy/Pinkie/Rarity; she continues o.s.) Whatever the seven of us are facing, however our lives are changing— (Back to her.) —we’re going through it together. So let’s get everyone off this boat, like the superheroes we are.
(Her last words are delivered with an over-shoulder glance and conciliatory smile aimed at Rainbow, whose face says it all about how eagerly she accepts this unspoken apology. Twilight tips her a wink to seal it.)
Twilight: Who’s with me?
Other Rainbooms: WE ARE!!
Rainbow: (scoffing) See how easy that was?
Twilight: You thinking what I’m thinking?
Twilight, Rainbow: Pony up! / Rainbow lasers!
Sunset: I thought we were calling it—
Rainbow: No, we agreed on “r—”
Pinkie: LIGHT IT UP, LADIES!!
(The stone in her hair clip blazes white to fill the screen. Twilight takes Rainbow’s hand, clip and wristband building power, and Applejack/Fluttershy/Rarity link up. Pinkie and Sunset copy the gesture, after which the screen divides into seven vertical panels that each show one girl’s image sliding in alternately from top or bottom. Stones glow as they turn to present themselves in profile, cutie marks appearing on cheeks; fade to white, then in to a fullscreen view of the fully “ponied-up” team in the hero outfits they wore at the end of “Forgotten Friendship” and “Rollercoaster of Friendship.” They still have on their life jackets, and Fluttershy has kept hold of the sheep. Her mark fades from her face before she speaks.)
Fluttershy: I’ll get the animals! (She glides away; cut to Pinkie/Sunset, their marks vanishing.)
Sunset: AJ, Dash, Pinkie, and I will make sure the decks are cleared.
(These two get moving, followed by Applejack with an also-unmarked cheek. The same happens to Rainbow and Rarity when the camera cuts to them.)
Rainbow: Oh, yeah! (She flies off, revealing Twilight behind her with no facial mark.)
Rarity: I’ll make a new lifeboat.
Twilight: I’ll help!
(They dive away, a giant copy of her mark floating across the screen. Wipe behind it to the prow, where she has already arrived; Rarity comes in for a landing, conjures up several gems, and fashions them into a flat-bottomed boat. Once it is in the water, Twilight levitates one passenger over the side and down toward it. A swarm of butterflies flits up past the screen; behind them, wipe to Fluttershy outfitting a scared little goat with a life jacket. She is no longer holding the sheep. The goat is one in a long procession of animals, the last of which are Mr. Bouncy’s many grandchildren. He has already been fitted. A terror-stricken little squeak draws his attention to a toppled planter holding a palm tree; two of his kin are huddled down next to this and too scared to move. Mr. Bouncy chitters an entreaty to Fluttershy, who whimpers quietly at the danger; before she can even think about moving, though, Rainbow streaks in and carries the pair back to their grandfather. The three rabbits hug, the younger two scamper to the line, and Mr. Bouncy glances uncertainly up at the high-speed hero. This gives way to a smile as they tap a fist and paw together—“no hard feelings.” Mr. Bouncy rejoins the line, and Rainbow rockets away.)
(Cut to the lounge, now filled with unnerved passengers. Sunset lands among them.)
Sunset: Head for the lifeboat! (pointing) That way!
(They follow orders, except for a little girl some distance back who cries while squeezing a stuffed turtle doll as if it were a life preserver. The sound freezes Sunset in her tracks as she brings up the rear, and she kneels to the youngster with a gentle smile and takes hold of one arm. Her eyes go white, and a flash marks the onset of her telepathy-by-touch. In this flashback, the girl’s mother has taken her hand to lead her along the upward incline of the tilting deck. The turtle is under her other arm, but it slides free and plops on the boards; not wanting to leave it behind, she yanks away from her mother’s grip and hurries to recover it amid the tumult of the evacuation. By the time she has it back, however, her mother is nowhere in sight; she stands frozen with panic among the mad rush.)
(The flashback ends as Sunset removes her hand, her eyes returning to normal; she gathers the girl into her arms and lifts off. Down the way, the mother is pleading for help from a crew member, who suddenly smiles and points past her into the sky. Down comes Sunset to hand off the missing girl, who joyfully runs into the woman’s embrace. A hail of apples tumbles past the screen; behind them, wipe to a corridor filled with ankle-deep water. Applejack sloshes along, but stops short at the sound of pounding from behind a closed door. An ear to the wood confirms that her mind is not playing tricks on her; she backs off a few steps.)
Applejack: (voice raised) Stand back!
(Ten orange-tan fingers wrap around opposite edges of the doorframe and begin to pull, the veneer and paneling cracking under the sheer force of her exertion. A man and his young daughter are on the other side of the door, in a half-swamped cabin. The door is ripped off its hinges and thrown aside, and the two wade out into the corridor, prompted by Applejack’s smile and beckoning wave.)
(A mass of balloons now passes the camera. Behind these, wipe to the dining room, now full of water to tabletop level. Standing smack in the middle is Puffed, who grunts and heaves but is unable to move from her spot. The doors are flung open to admit Pinkie.)
Puffed: I thought I told you never to come in here!
Pinkie: (smiling grimly) Good thing I’m a slow learner. (She splashes in; the Frenchwoman relents.)
Puffed: I am trapped. My foot is stuck.
(The pink hero beams and offers a yellow-gloved hand, which the Frenchwoman takes with a small smile after a moment’s indecision—but the added muscle is still not enough to get her loose. Pinkie does a quick bit of thinking, then snaps her fingers as an idea comes to her; taking a deep breath, she pinches her nose shut and plunges into the water. Cut to a close-up of her, eyes widening in surprise, and zoom out to put Puffed’s legs in the fore. One foot has become caught in a table centerpiece and the…)
Pinkie: (bubbly) Triple-Choco-Berry-Blasted Butter Biscuit Bundt Cake!
(She wastes no time in chomping into the sodden dessert. A thick cluster of bubbles rises past the camera, the view wiping behind them to a set of closed doors. These are thrown open from the other side to frame Pinkie and Puffed, who wade out of the dining room side by side—the rescue-by-gastronomic-silliness has worked like a charm. Pale blue gems rain past the camera to change the scene to a shot of the ship and its new, now-full lifeboat. All the Rainbooms have boarded except for Rainbow, who hovers to keep watch as Twilight floats the last few passengers down to safety.)
Pinkie: (calling up to Rainbow) Is that everyone?
Rainbow: All clear!
Applejack: (giving a thumbs-up) Okay, let’s shove off!
(The girl with the multicolored hair darts down and puts her speed to work in propelling the lifeboat toward the island, sparing one last regretful glance toward the ship before it slips below the water for good. Dissolve to a close-up of a young goat happily wagging its tail from atop the side of the crystal vessel. It gathers its nerve and jumps down; cut to the beach, where the lifeboat has run aground, and pan to follow it across the sand. The passengers, crew, and Rainbooms are all in one piece and talking among themselves; the Rainbooms have powered down and are back in their original outfits and accessories, and everyone has shed their life jackets. Fluttershy has stripped them off all the animals except for this goat, which leaps into her arms for a nuzzle and sets her to giggling.)
(Elsewhere, the downhearted Puffed is sitting by herself on a log to brood over how her career could have gone so far off the rails. Pinkie sits alongside, digs a cupcake out of her hair, and presents it as a peace offering—only for the chef to remove her toque just long enough to produce one of her own. The treats are tapped against each other in a silent toast. On the beach, Ragamuffin strides up behind Rarity as she and Applejack stack up the life jackets.)
Ragamuffin: Well, I s’pose this is goodbye.
Rarity: Take care of yourself. (Close-up of Ragamuffin.)
Ragamuffin: You too, Rari’ee. (He turns to leave…)
Rarity: (from o.s.) Ragamuffin… (…and stops; cut to frame both.) …don’t let anyone tell you you can’t be a dancer. (exaggerated Southern accent) For all coal turns to diamonds!
(She is channeling Selfie Soot, the character she portrayed in the Canterlot High production of Bedazzled.)
Ragamuffin: (no accent whatsoever) That’s the best advice I’ve ever heard! (He walks off.)
Rarity: Thank y—wait. What?
(So he was faking a Cockney accent the whole time—and she fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Applejack walks up to put a chummy arm across her utterly confounded friend’s shoulders. Twilight gazes out at the rocks as the seven gather on the sand, Pinkie having dispatched her cupcake.)
Fluttershy: So…now what?
Sunset: I might have a way home— (glancing at Staff, still planted upright) —but it’s kinda weird.
(Wipe to an extreme close-up of a picture frame, seen from behind, as it is lifted in a magic aura. The bottom edge rises far enough to frame Princess Twilight and Spike in the throne room of the Castle, once again trying to get that surreal painting properly hung with a combination of ladder, brawn, and horn-power. Behind them, the central table has been cleared of all the mementos of mayhem past.)
Princess Twilight: A little more on the left. (Close-up of the painting being tilted; she continues o.s.) A little more… (It stops, level.) …perfect!
(Tilt down slightly to the little guy, who turns away and wipes his forehead as she cuts her spell.)
Spike: Phew!
(The artwork chooses this moment to come free of its mooring and crash to the floor; he slumps atop the ladder with a “why me?” groan as Princess Twilight glances across the room. She turns away, surprise instantly registering on her face, and finds a very large number of very tired ponies standing/hovering/collapsing at the doorway. All of the Rainbooms have taken advantage of the portal hidden under the quicksand, as have quite a few of their classmates, and Sunset’s dopey smile is all it takes to fill in the details of her plan—come to Equestria via that route, then use the magic mirror in the Castle to return to the Canterlot High campus.)
Sunset: (singsong) We’re baaaack!
(Cut directly to the closing credits.)
“All Good” (Extended Version)
Light electric guitar/synthesizer/percussion melody, fast 4 (A flat major)
Rainbow: Get in the groove, you bring your dancing shoes
I’ll bring the attitude, you bring the crew so we can move
Light up the floor, turn up the bass
Yeah, let me see that smile on your face
Bass guitar, tambourine, full percussion in
Rainbooms: Come on and go with the flow, gonna steal the show, yeah
Twilight: Let me show you how it goes
Sunset: Repeat after me!
Rainbooms: ’Cause it’s all, all, all, all good
I feel abso-absolutely amazing
’Cause it’s all, all, all, all good
I feel abso-absolutely amazing
(shouted) Hey!
(sung) Throw your hands up higher, turn up the amplifier
Watch me, I’m on fire, fire
’Cause it’s all, all, all, all good
I feel abso-absolutely amazing
Guitar solo, followed by a drop back to light percussion and synth chords only
Rainbow: ’Cause it’s all, all, all, all good
I feel abso-absolutely amazing
Rainbooms: ’Cause it’s all, all, all, all good
I feel abso-absolutely amazing
Full instrumentation in, backed by guitar riffs
’Cause it’s all, all, all, all good
I feel abso-absolutely amazing
’Cause it’s all, all, all, all good
I feel abso-absolutely amazing
(shouted) Hey!
(sung) Throw your hands up higher, turn up the amplifier
Watch me, I’m on fire, fire
’Cause it’s all, all, all, all good
I feel abso-absolutely amazing
End of last line is sung a cappella, after which the song ends
MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS
Digital Series—Volume Three
Production credits for all shorts are as follows:
Produced by Angela Belyea, Colleen McAllister
Directed by Ishi Rudell, Katrina Hadley
(Writing credits are listed on each individual transcript)
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Note: Background song lyrics are in square brackets; any marked with an exclamation
point are shouted rather than sung.
“Reboxing with Spike!” Written by Gillian M. Berrow
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an extreme close-up of Spike reaching toward the camera and adjusting it. He is sitting on the bed in Twilight Sparkle’s room at home, and a sealed carton rests off to one side on the mattress. A bone features prominently on the logo emblazoned across the cardboard, suggesting pet supplies. Once Spike has the camera just so, he backs away a few steps.)
Spike: Hey, paw pals! Welcome to this month’s Fancy Fetch Unboxing with Spike.
(The title is delivered in voice over, the camera cutting to a close-up of one suavely smiling pooch and a paw-marked box that opens on its own so a bone can float up. After he tips a wink, the view returns to him on the bed.)
Spike: I love pampering myself, and of course putting it on the Internet for you, my fans, first.
(So this is an online video, then. He squishes his cheeks on the start of this line and adds a wink to end it. As he continues, a graphic briefly appears in midair by his head, showing his own face topped by a halo and alongside a pound sign.)
Spike: Hashtag “puppy self-care.” I decided to splurge a little this month and get the deluxe package.
(Teeth nip onto the corner of the carton so he can drag it toward the center of the bed. Cut to close-ups of it from various angles.)
Spike: (voice over) Let’s get a better shot.
(The graphic, minus the pound sign, materializes at screen center and zooms toward the camera as the view fades to black. Snap immediately to a close-up of the now-open carton, filled with an assortment of dog toys and goodies.)
Spike: (voice over, awestruck) Whoa! (pointing to a sack) Look at this!
(Zoom in quickly on it, then cut to him lifting it out and using his teeth to extract a gem-studded Frisbee.)
Spike: (voice over) Fabulous Fido’s Fabergé Flying Disc. (He sets it down and addresses the camera.) Of course, you can’t actually throw it. (holding it up) Far too delicate.
(A tender kiss to the surface is met with four jewels flicking into view above it; these disappear as he puts the bauble aside and begins rooting around in the carton.)
Spike: Hm…what other gems do we have here? (Eyes pop.) Oh!
(What he produces this time is a tricked-out purple slipper covering a paw.)
Spike: Slippers to make your paws feel plush!
(He cuddles it to a cheek. Cut to a slow pan across his form—sprawled on his belly, wearing a full set of four as satisfaction oozes from every square inch of his face.)
Spike: (voice over) They’re encrusted with locally sourced amethysts.
(Five gems pop into view for a moment before the camera cuts back to him digging around some more, having shed the slippers. Cut to a closer shot of his face on each of the next three words, ending with an extreme close-up.)
Spike: (giddily) Oh, my goodness! (Longer shot; he laughs.) This is why I started vlogging in the first place! I’ve been waiting for a sniff like this.
(A bit of drool escapes his lips; close-up of the items, zooming in slightly. Front and center is a worn, dirty, greenish sock that begins to glow with a heavenly light. A pair of wings pops in around it, and the screen quickly tiles itself with jewels before the view returns to Spike holding it proudly—and the wisps of malodorous vapor that have begun to rise from the fabric.)
Spike: It’s a classic white ankle sock. (Close-up of it and him; slow pan.) Cotton-nylon blend, two hundred wears deep, never washed. This ain’t no dry-wick. This baby is as absorbent as they get!
(He takes a lungful of the funk and backs out of view.)
Spike: (from o.s., contentedly) Ahhhh…
(Back to the indulging puppy, whose reverie comes to an abrupt end at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps.)
Spike: Huh?
Twilight: (from hallway, testily) Spike!
(He turns to face the room’s open door, rising to his hind legs and clasping his front paws innocently behind his back, as she enters holding a receipt.)
Twilight: Did you spend two hundred dollars on a box with a dirty sock in it? (She fixes him with a glare.)
Spike: (laughing nervously) Can’t put a price on “hashtag ‘puppy self-care’ ”?
(A brief blip of sound and light fills the screen; when it clears, the carton has been sloppily repacked and taped shut and Twilight is gone.)
Spike: (deflating slightly) And now for my new show—Reboxing and Returning Stuff.
(Fade to black.)
“DIY with Applejack” Written by Laura Beck
Note: Throughout this short, all lines marked with one asterisk (*) are spoken by a
character holding the camera.
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a close-up of Applejack standing in a room with a bare wood floor. The walls are unadorned, inset with alcoves directly behind her and to both sides. Visible in the bottom right corner of the screen is an icon consisting of a wooden apple in a matching frame—like Spike, she is making an online video. Her image is slightly fuzzy at first, but comes into focus before she begins to speak.)
Applejack: On today’s DIY with Applejack— (holding up a hammer) —we’re gonna build my friend Rarity a dream dressin’ room, in just seventy-three easy steps.
(The image jitters briefly, followed by a quick swivel that frames an extreme close-up of the fashionista’s features, her cheeks all but mashed against the lens. Evidently she drew camera-operator duty for this endeavor. The apple icon remains on the screen.)
Rarity: Hello, darlings. I can’t wait for my fabulous new dressing room and—
(A loud, impatient throat-clearing from Applejack’s direction brings her up short.)
Rarity: (blushing) Oh. Sorry. (Laugh.) Promise I won’t make another peep.
(The camera swivels back to the hands-on teen, who has put away the hammer.)
Applejack: Let’s get started!
(Snap to black, a flicker of static blinking across the screen, then immediately to a brief, shaky zoom out from her standing among a clump of trees on the Sweet Apple Acres grounds during the day. The apple icon is gone from the screen now. She has donned a hard hat in place of her usual one, safety goggles, and work gloves and is leaning against an axe whose head rests in the grass. The tool is lifted into a two-handed grip.)
Applejack: First, you need wood. So for step one, I’m gonna cut down one of my trees.
(Here comes the swing—but the following words startle her into slamming on the brakes just before the blade can make contact with the trunk.)
* Rarity: Ooh, just a dash of peep. How many trees are we going to need?
(Mildly vexed at the interruption, the farmer pulls the axe back for another go. The entire image freezes just short of a hit, a “pause” symbol within a circle superimposing itself on the screen. Now the camera backs up to put the entire scene within the viewing window of a computer World Wide Web site, complete with running time display, volume control, and progress bar. A mouse cursor clicks on the slider control affixed to this last and drags it to the right, instantly advancing the video through a series of still shots. Standing over the now-felled tree and wiping her brow…carrying a plank…measuring the height of one alcove in the room…using a power sander on the top of a crate…sawing a plank…and the cursor clicks to resume the playback as she is sanding it.)
Applejack: (slightly tinny) Step eight. (Zoom in until the viewing window fills the screen again; normal audio resumes.) Gettin’ rid of splinters.
(The shift in the sound quality reflects a transition from watching the video online to being on the scene again.)
Applejack: Now you have to give each square foot of the surface thirty clockwise strokes with the buffer—
* Rarity: Thirty! (Applejack shuts it down.) Darling, that seems a bit excessive.
Applejack: (needled) Yes, thirty. (smiling, restarting) And then you have to double-check those strokes by… (Shut down again.) …aw, shoot! I lost count. Well, I have to cut down a new tree. (She walks out.)
* Rarity: (yawning; camera wobbles slightly) This is positively electrifying.
(Snap to staticky black, then in to Applejack holding a paint roller. She is no longer wearing her work gear and has put on her cowboy hat again. Behind her, a door has been fitted up and decorated, a splotch of paint marks the wall above this, and a fringe of fabric trim hangs from the upper edge of the wall alcove to her right. Lumber and rolls of fabric are scattered about, through which Rarity’s cat Opalescence enters the workspace.)
Applejack: Step twenty-nine—paintin’ your room. (lifting a can of paint) I chose this practical brown color—
(The fussy feline chooses this moment to voice her opinion in a loud hiss. The camera focus shifts briefly to her and back, throwing a mild scare into Applejack, then swings briefly from side to side as if Rarity is shaking her head. A “you’ve got to be kidding me” look comes over the freckled face, followed by a quick snap to black and in to the room again. Now Opal is much more content, while Applejack has stitched on a slightly forced grin as she holds up her roller and a different can.)
Applejack: Step twenty-nine-point-five—paintin’ your room with this, uh, very bright purple.
(A pale hand reaches into view to give her a big thumbs-up, after which the view undergoes a “diamond wipe” to frame Applejack regarding one back corner of the room. That is, the new image expands from the center of the screen and takes on a diamond shape as it grows until the transition is complete. The walls have been fully painted in the Rarity-approved shade.)
Applejack: (tossing roller into a can) Step forty-two—adding tufted button walls.
(Close-up of a patch of floor, fabric being unrolled to cover it.)
Applejack: (from o.s., reaching briefly into view to measure) You’re gonna want to be careful, measurin’ the satin at least twice…
(As she says this, Opal darts in to work the textile over with her claws and shoot the camera a slightly dirty look. There follows a split-second blip of black, which clears to show the floor again bare; as a new length of fabric is rolled out, the mouse cursor appears and clicks to pause the video. As before, the view zooms out to frame the entire computer screen and the slider on the progress bar is dragged right to skip ahead. Stills flash by of Applejack repeatedly measuring again, first with a tape measure and then with additional tools, followed by a close-up of her face, mouth open to speak and index finger raised to drive home a point. Zoom in until the viewing window fills the screen again; the cursor clicks to resume the playback, then drops out of sight.)
Applejack: Now that you’ve measured five times— (hefting a pair of hedge clippers) —we can begin to cut the samples.
(A less-than-amused throat-clearing from behind the camera stops her cold, and after a staticky flash of black, the blonde smiles sheepishly while holding up a pair of scissors more suited to the task at hand. Her test snips are frozen by a click of the cursor, which drags the progress bar slider ahead to frame her standing at the trimmed alcove. Stacks of fabric swatches fill both hands and litter the floor; she regards these with no small degree of confusion as the mouse and controls drop away.)
Applejack: We just have to figure out which of the sixty-two samples work best.
(These words are punctuated by a yawn from Rarity and a slow droop of the camera until it frames the booted feed and a napping Opal. At the sound of Applejack’s annoyed throat-clearing, though, she snaps awake with a little yelp and trains the lens ahead once more.)
Applejack: Now the real fun begins!
* Rarity: (sourly) Oh, now the real fun begins. (Camera starts to tilt and fall again.) I’ve been having so much fun the whole time. (Weary sigh.)
Applejack: Rarity! (now o.s; a yawn from Rarity) Wake up!
(The camera is now pointing into the pale girl’s own shadow, which grows to fill and black out the screen to the sound of a hearty thud—she has carried it to the floor while passing out from sheer boredom and exhaustion. On the start of the next line, the view fades in to an extreme close-up of Applejack’s hand, which pulls away from the lens to expose the finished room. Racks for shoes and accessories fill the alcove at the far wall; the trimmed one now holds a bed in which Rarity and Opal are sleeping peacefully; across from it; a third niche houses a vanity counter and mirror. Furniture and carpets are present in the appropriate opulent style, including a chandelier hanging over the low central table, and all the materials and tools have been cleared away. The camera is now in Applejack’s hands.)
* Applejack: Step seventy-three— (The apple icon appears at bottom right.) —the big reveal!
(Opal meows grumpily at the disturbance, the camera panning slightly to frame the bed and its occupants.)
* Applejack: (softly) Oh, yeah. Good night, you two.
(The cat settles back down to sleep before the view cuts directly to the closing credits.)
“The Craft of Cookies” Written by Laura Beck
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to Pinkie Pie standing at a kitchen counter. She is wearing a pink-frilled white apron over her usual clothing, decorated with a blue sash and three hearts—one large and pale blue, the others small and pink—and her magical pendant is not around her neck. On the counter are her stuffed alligator Gummy and Rainbow Dash’s pet tortoise Tank, both sporting white chef’s toques; daytime sky is visible through the window behind Pinkie. Zoom in slowly.)
Pinkie: Welcome to The Craft of Cookies with me, Pinkie Pie!
(She puts her hands together with thumbs/fingers curved to form a heart, and two bright pink ones pop briefly into view to flank her grinning visage—an online video in progress.)
Pinkie: In just one class, you too can become a certified cookie master!
(Close-up of Tank on the end of this, the wrinkled green face ever-so-slowly creasing into a smile. She leans down into view with a happy little gasp.)
Pinkie: Let’s get started.
(Big squeaky grin; double thumbs-up, accompanied by three gold stars winking into view around them both for a moment. From here, cut to a series of close-ups of cabinets being opened and ingredients being snatched up.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Yum! Ooh! Yes, please! Tasty! You’re gonna be delicious!
(On the end of this, she leans into view next to Tank for just long enough to deposit the lot on the counter. She stands over a mixing bowl as the leathery head stretches toward a particular container.)
Pinkie: Now, step two—making cookies!
(The sweet stuff is plucked out of reach, leaving his beak to clack shut on nothing but air. Close-ups of ingredients being measured up and added to the bowl.)
Pinkie: (voice over) Cup of sugar…tablespoon of baking powder…dash of vanilla…pinch of salt. And for our final ingredient…
(Tank once again extends his head to get in range of the mix during this line, but is unceremoniously picked up and held over it as Pinkie finishes.)
Pinkie: …two Tank kisses!
(She plants two big smooches on his cheek, a pink heart materializing and dropping into the dough after each one to turn it that color, and gets a dab on a finger for a taste test.)
Pinkie: Mmmm! (Gasp.) Cotton candy! This is ta-a-a-asty!
(She leans down over Gummy and affects a slightly altered voice to “speak” for the toy.)
Pinkie: (as Gummy) You’ve really outdone yourself, Pinkie! (own voice) Aw, thanks, Gummy! (rooting around in her hair) Now for the not-so-secret ingredient…
(The follicular foraging yields a bowl piled high with morsels of…)
Pinkie: …CHOCOLATE!!
(This is set down on the counter, prompting Tank to begin reaching his jaws eagerly toward it, and Pinkie pops one bit into her mouth.)
Pinkie: Mmmm! (She takes another.) Mmmm!
(The height of the chocolate begins to drop with remarkable speed as she wolfs it down; close-up of Gummy.)
Pinkie: (from o.s., as it) Don’t eat all the chips!
(All three again; after swallowing her latest mouthful, she begins to look more than a bit ill.)
Pinkie: (own voice, queasily) Whoa…my tum-tum! (Cut to Tank, head nearly in the bowl; she continues o.s.) I didn’t think there was such a thing as too much chocolate.
(The shelled critter’s snapping beak again gets a whole lot of nothing when she pulls the bowl out of reach. He grumbles to himself; her cheeks go an unappetizing shade of green as she burps her discomfort. Her face quickly resumes its usual shade of pink, though, and her gut settles as she dumps the remaining chocolate chips into the bowl of dough and sets to mixing them in.)
Pinkie: Now, to bake our creations!
(A cookie sheet is laid out and two balls of dough are transferred onto it, after which ten more pop into place on their own to form three rows of four. Pinkie loads the sheet into the oven and closes the door; cut to her, Gummy, and Tank sitting on a row of stools. The baking time quickly ticks down on a floating graphic of a kitchen timer.)
Pinkie: (pulling a cupcake from her hair) Mmm-mmm-mmm!
(The timer rings and disappears before she can bite down on it.)
Pinkie: (gasping, tossing it over shoulder) They’re ready!
(The treat splats down across Tank’s carapace, but the mess is positioned just right to leave him completely unable to snag even a particle; even extending his tongue to full length does him no good. His face falls as two oven-mitted pink hands bring out the cookie sheet, whose dough has become a dozen sparkly goodies, and Pinkie’s eyes become twinkling red hearts for a moment once she gets a lungful of the aroma. The blue irises pop wide in surprise after they have returned to normal; she turns to direct a sly over-shoulder glance toward Gummy, who is back on the counter.)
Pinkie: What’s that, Gummy? You think I’ve just invented the perfect cookie? (cheerfully self-deprecating) Awww… (Close-up; she addresses the camera and digs in her hair.) And now, for the final and best part…
(She has shed her oven mitts at this point, and the camera zooms out as she extracts a shaker can of…)
Pinkie: …SPRINKLES!!
(This shot puts Gummy, a cleaned-up Tank, and the cookies all on the counter. The baked goods get a load dumped over them, which detonates in a burst of magenta smoke; when the view clears, the cookies are now piled on a plate and framed in a close-up and slow pan amid bright yellow flecks of light.)
Pinkie: (voice over) Et voilà! Two dozen ultra-scrumptious cookies—
(The kitchen again; the blast has splattered dough all over her, Gummy, and most of the room and flipped Tank upside down. She is holding up the plate.)
Pinkie: —for a sophisticated snack time. (setting it down) Until next time on The Craft of Cookies— (pulling a cookie from her hair, picking up Tank) —this is Pinkie Pie, bidding you a sweet evening and a most delicious morrow.
(His mood instantly brightens when she holds it close so he can chomp down and get the sugary happiness he has been chasing this entire time. “Iris out” to black, the aperture pausing briefly to frame his blissful face before closing altogether.)
“Street Magic with Trixie!” Written by Laura Beck
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to Trixie standing on the sidewalk outside the Carousel Boutique. She has switched her everyday outfit for a deep blue dress and matching top hat, the latter sporting a yellow band and blue-violet feathers. Over the dress is a formal coat, lighter in hue, whose tails reach down to the hem. Both its trim and the epaulets at the shoulders match the hatband, and the sleeves are bedecked with pale yellow stars. Blue-violet stockings reach up past her knees, and she wears blue high-heeled shoes set with lighter bows marked by yellow stars. Resting on the concrete around her are five items: a bouquet of roses, a deck of playing cards, an upended black top hat, a wand, and a box all set up on a table for the “saw a person in half” trick. Spike’s head protrudes from one end.)
Trixie: (sweeping hat off, donning it again) Today, the Great and Powerful Trixie is here to blow your feeble minds with some serious magic.
(Cut to a long shot of her on the end of this, seen from across a busy street, then cut to Spike.)
Spike: (uneasily) Yeah…uh, Trixie, everyone believes that you’re great and powerful. (Zoom out quickly; Trixie now stands behind the box.) You don’t have to prove it!
Trixie: (lifting a sword) Don’t worry, I got this.
(She poises the blade halfway down its length, preparing to chop it in two.)
Spike: I’m worrying! I’m worrying!
Trixie: Magic, don’t fail me now. Abraca—
(The camera cuts briefly to a slowly thickening knot of baffled spectators during this line, then back to the young illusionist on its end as she brings the sword down. Before metal can touch wood, though, a sparkly aura brings it to a sudden halt. Trixie can only boggle at the feat, and her perplexity grows as the weapon is lifted away, taking her arms with it, and all her props except for the box float up from the sidewalk. Awed murmurs drift from the o.s. audience, the items following the movements of the sword as it shifts here and there.)
Trixie: (smiling) —dabra? Ah! (waving sword overhead; items spin in a circle around her) Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on the Great and Powerful Trixie’s astounding power of telekinesis!
(The box rises and floats away unnoticed on the end of this, and the murmurs turn into full-blown cheers. Cut to the onlookers—with Twilight now standing at their rear and smiling to herself as one upraised, glowing index finger describes small circles. She smirks across the way, having decided to liven up the show and get her dog off the firing line with her powers, but Trixie catches on to exactly none of this.)
Trixie: You’re welcome. I am all-powerful.
(Her satisfied little giggle gives way to a look of surprise due to the camera flashes that begin to pop, but she strikes a confidently smiling pose with the sword before the view snaps to black.)
“Sic Skateboard” Written by Gillian M. Berrow
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to Rainbow at a skateboard park during the day. Wearing knee/elbow pads and a purple helmet marked by multicolored lightning bolts to match the ones on her pants, she jumps her board onto a rail, rides it sideways from one end to the other, and hops off to roll through a few more turns and jumps. A handstand at the top rail of a half-pipe—one hand on the rail, the other on the board—and she cruises down to jump clear and catch the rig under one arm. The deck bears a design of a rainbow issuing from a cloud at the nose. Her words are directed toward the camera, marking this as an online video.)
Rainbow: Hey, everyone! I’m super-stoked because today is the day! This skateboard trick is gonna blow your mind!
(Each of these last three words is delivered from a different camera angle, the last in a zoom in from overhead with one blue index finger pointed emphatically toward the lens. From here, cut to her riding up one quarter-pipe, flipping over the rail at its top, and riding down an adjacent one.)
Rainbow: (voice over) It’s been a super-intense four weeks of training. Nothing but grinding, claw stretches, shredding—
(Close-up of each activity as she names it. “Grinding”: riding with the tail of her board tilted back to scrape the ground and throw off sparks. “Claw stretches”: with fingers interlaced and palms facing away from her body, she stretches her arms forward to pop and loosen the joints. “Shredding”: she rides while squatting down to let one set of fingertips graze the concrete. Finally the camera cuts to a close-up.)
Rainbow: —and shredded lettuce!
(She holds up a fistful of said produce, bites down, and chomps noisily. The next shot is of a group of younger skaters murmuring excitedly among themselves.)
Rainbow: (voice over) Some say it couldn’t be done—
(She blurs into view among them, drawing on the power of her pendant and no longer carrying her board or the remains of the lettuce.)
Rainbow: —but get ready, ’cause today you’re going to witness…the first-ever Tortoise Kicker Ramp Ollie!
(On the end of this, she points off to one side and the camera pans quickly in that direction to stop on Tank at the top of a ramp. He inches up to the edge, having been kitted out with his own board and safety gear, and cringes away from it in a panicked sweat upon getting an eyeful of the drop.)
Rainbow: Time to bust out of that shell, Tank.
(Finding his owner’s palm extended toward him, he touches the sole of one stumpy foot to it in a slow-motion high five and smiles at the encouragement. In a blink, Rainbow has whisked back toward the spectators.)
Rainbow: Let’s do this! (A calm nod from the tortoise; she addresses the group.) Wait ’til you guys see this!
(Pan quickly back to Tank, who raises a foot from his deck. The young skaters gasp excitedly…he begins to push off…two direct worried looks at each other, then toward him…Rainbow grins from ear to ear, eyes shining as a giddy little squeal finds its way out…sweat dribbles down the wizened green face…two skaters clutch fearfully at each other…and finally, in extreme close-up, gravity pulls Tank and the board over the edge. Almost at the same moment, the camera zooms out quickly to reveal that this ramp stands only up to about Rainbow’s waist. Tank goes airborne for a moment off the raised lip at the lower end, then plunks back onto solid ground and almost immediately comes to a stop. There follows a long, stunned silence, broken by the stripe-haired daredevil.)
Rainbow: Awesome! (Cheers from the others; she picks Tank up.) Don’t worry. I’ll add some sick special effects later.
(Her wink is followed by a brief flash of white and blip of sound, which give way to an extreme close-up of Tank lifting his head. The wrinkled features are set in stern concentration and thrown into relief by the sunlight glinting off his helmet. Next is a shot of him launching into the trick, the camera aimed at him from the ramp’s lower end. The descent is then seen from two additional angles, the second of which frames him rolling directly toward the camera. Fade to black, then snap immediately to a close-up of his wheels arcing through the air in slow motion, framed by glitter and an icon of a trailing fireball. This is followed by a normal-speed close-up of Tank and his board being held up by Rainbow’s hands and raised/dipped to simulate a dramatic trajectory—“sick special effects” on no budget, perhaps—and finally the takeoff and ending jump are seen again. Slow motion on the latter, one green foot lifted in triumph as icons fill the surrounding air—fireballs, stars, a thumbs-up, a dragon’s head breathing fire—then “iris out” to black, centered on his face.)
“Street Chic” Written by Laura Beck
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to Rarity outside the Carousel Boutique. Two wheeled racks loaded with clothes stand within easy reach on the sidewalk, while a passing boy pulls up his jacket collar to shield as much of his face and neck as possible.)
Rarity: (twirling) Hello, darlings! Welcome to Street Chic with Rarity.
(Another online video, then. A scatter of fallen leaves blows past on a strong breeze—autumn has arrived, and with it the dropping temperatures that explain the boy’s jacket. The wind will reassert itself from time to time throughout the remainder of this short.)
Rarity: A show that keeps you ahead of the curve, so you’re always the first girl on your block to wear the most glittering and glamorous frocks in fashion.
(Two girls exit the shop during this line; now Rarity slips between the two racks.)
Rarity: This week, I am bringing you the latest in summer flair, so let’s get started!
(Here comes Applejack, sipping from a cup of hot tea and wearing a short orange scarf over her usual outfit as he only two concessions to the cold. The free ends are decorated with red apples.)
Rarity: (showing off Applejack for the camera) As you can see, Applejack has a simply scrumptious country style that really works for her. So I will just make some simple tweaks.
(Said tweaks are triggered by spinning the blonde in place, so fast that she loses hold of her cup and becomes a blur as a flare of white envelops her for a split-second. She is more than a little stunned to find her scarf gone, her shirt replaced by a sleeveless white top with the same red apple, and her skirt switched for a pair of rolled-up denim shorts. Shivers quickly set in as Rarity gasps in surprise and smiles.)
Rarity: Oh, sometimes I just shock myself with how good I am. (A jacket/scarf-clad teen passes.)
Applejack: (now shivering badly) Uh, don’t you think it’s a pinch chilly for this getup?
Rarity: (patting her shoulder) Nonsense! You look gorgeous, and oh so summer. (Close-up of Applejack, from the waist up.)
Applejack: (teeth chattering) C-c-c…cold…
(Now Fluttershy arrives on the scene, having topped her sundress with a fluffy scarf in white and pale violet, secured with a bright pink heart brooch. The honking of geese from somewhere overhead draws her attention.)
Fluttershy: (pointing upward) Oh!
(Tilt quickly up the sky, so completely filled with gloomy gray clouds that it is impossible to tell the time of day. A flock of these very birds is winging over the rooftops.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) They’re starting to head north for the winter!
(Back to street level, now framing her fully; the straps of her butterfly sandals have been removed, and she wears knee-length pink stockings with white trim and pink bows at their tops.)
Rarity: It may be fall, darling— (Applejack snatches a pair of pants from one rack and wraps herself in them like a shawl.) —but we in the fashion world are in summer mode. And now, so will you [sic].
(She works her mojo on Fluttershy as she did with Applejack, leaving the animal lover in a pale green sundress with white birds along the hem. The scarf is gone, and the stockings have been replaced by the sandal straps. The wearer of this new finery reacts by wrapping her arms around herself and shivering like mad as the wind whistles down the block.)
Rarity: (to camera) She’s sporty, she’s stylish—
(Rainbow strolls up, earphones socked in and connected to an MP3 player in her pocket. She pulls one free as Applejack tries to wave her off.)
Rarity: —and she needs a sensational summer look to dazzle all the other sports…people? (Clear throat; grip Rainbow’s shoulder.) Anyway…
(A third spin and flash, and the star athlete finds herself tricked out in a deep pink tank top, marked with a yellow lightning bolt and tied off at the waist. Her pants are now blue, unmarked and stopping below the knee, and she has been relieved of her tunes. The shivers start up almost immediately.)
Rarity: It’s elegant, yet still sporting. She’ll be bringing drama, along with the summer sun. (Close-up of Rainbow.)
Rainbow: (pointing upward) That doesn’t look like the sun to me. (Pan to Rarity.)
Rarity: Ignore the nature, Rainbow Dash. Summer chic is a state of mind. (to camera) We’ll see you next time on Street Chic with Rarity! Until then, don’t forget to strike a pose!
(The inviting hand that she stretches toward her friends is met with nothing but full-body shivers and clacking teeth. Only after she throws them a slightly panicked nod do they smile and follow her instruction—and an instant later, enough snow thunders down to blanket all four and the racks and bury them up to the waist. Winter has come with all the grace and subtlety of a twenty-car pileup on the freeway. Eight eyes blink confusedly through the frigid layers for a long, silent moment until Rainbow speaks up. The next two lines are slightly muffled by the snow.)
Rainbow: Uh, Rarity? You got anything for winter?
Rarity: (shivering) Remind me to do our photo shoots indoors from now on.
(Fade to black.)
“Game Stream” Written by Katie Chilson
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a screenful of greenish symbols and glyphs streaming down like rain. An icon styled as a simplified picture of Sunset Shimmer’s head appears and offers a grinning wink, after which the view dissolves to her and Fluttershy sitting on the couch in the former’s room. Both are wearing headphones with attached microphones, the sort favored by online gaming enthusiasts, and Sunset is sporting the dress/jacket/tights ensemble she wore throughout Friendship Games. One notable change, though: instead of the short boots, she has put on a pair of black/orange sneakers with white toecaps and magenta stars on the tongues. An untidy pile of game titles rests between the two as she addresses the camera.)
Sunset: Welcome to Shimmercode, my game channel! I’ve decided to take a break from racking up crazy high scores to introduce my friend Fluttershy to gaming.
(An online video, then. The timid teen reacts with a bit of a jjolt when her name is said, but comes around to a small smile and fist pump.)
Fluttershy: Yay, games.
Sunset: Okay, Fluttershy, your pick. What’ll it be? (Fluttershy picks through the pile briefly, then lifts one with a smile.)
Fluttershy: Oh! The squirrel one!
(As she says this, a “picture-in-picture” image appears at bottom right, showing this particular rodent scattering varicolored nuts in all directions. This vanishes in time with Sunset’s slightly resigned yet humoring shrug.)
Sunset: Yeah, sure! (She takes the game, stands, and moves toward the camera.) I usually play more advanced games, but… (Kneel, fiddle with the o.s. game console; focus shifts to her.) …what my guest player picks, we play. (aside, smugly) This will be…easy. (Focus on Fluttershy again.)
Fluttershy: (clapping) Time to press some buttons! Whee!
(Her host returns to the couch with a pair of controllers and passes one over. Cut to their perspective of the room’s television set, whose screen comes to life with an image of the happy little squirrel and nuts going airborne. Fluttershy is holding her controller upside down. Daytime sky is visible through the window adjacent to the setup.)
Sunset: Here we go.
(A rain of nuts tumbles down over the view; behind these, wipe to a lower-resolution, vertically split screen—the game in progress. Each half shows a tree, one of whose branches supports a small house with a bucket hanging down, as well as an empty meter with space enough for six acorns. Icons for the two girls’ faces are on opposite sides of the dividing centerline, Sunset at left and Fluttershy at right. Both halves tilt quickly down to ground level, where a basket has been set by the base of the tree; a gray squirrel stands on Sunset’s side, a blue one on Fluttershy’s, and an acorn rests before each. The avatars and meters remain in view.)
(Cut back to the two girls; Sunset notices her guest’s incorrect grip on the controller and turns it over.)
Sunset: The gameplay here is actually very simple. (The screen; she continues o.s. as her avatar smiles.) Get your squirrel to climb the tree…
(Gray snatches its acorn and begins to scamper up the bark, only to slide back down after a few feet and anger Sunset.)
Sunset: (from o.s., vexed) …climb the tree…
(Gray tosses the nut up and tries for a bounce off its head and into the basket; the attempt falls short, leaving the animal dazed and Sunset even more peeved.)
Sunset: (from o.s., through gritted teeth) …climb the tree…
(Jumping does no good; back to the girls.)
Fluttershy: Like this?
(The screen, on which Sunset has shifted to sadness. Blue nimbly scales the trunk, the camera tilting up to follow it to the house. The acorn is thrown into the hanging bucket, filling one spot on Fluttershy’s meter and causing her to beam as rainbows lance among the leaves. The couch: she is now really enjoying herself, while Sunset has assumed a popeyed expression of shock, the controller in her hands all but forgotten.)
Sunset: Uh…yeah.
(The screen: as Gray keeps fumbling to hold its acorn, Blue hops up to grab a newly materialized peanut out of the air and climbs the tree.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Huh? Oh!
(Into the bucket it goes, raising the meter another notch and bringing out more rainbows; she beams and Sunset seethes as Blue drops back to the turf.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s., giggling) Oh!
(The couch: the red/gold-haired gamer manically works her controls as her opposite number continues to cruise.)
Fluttershy: Oh!
(The screen: now Sunset has calmed down since Gray is actually keeping hold of its prize—that is, until a falling twig knocks squirrel and acorn alike off the tree. Gray sails gracelessly through the open space to smack face-first against the “camera lens” and slide down o.s., to Sunset’s considerable dismay. Blue, on the other hand, makes a pair of midair catches and scurries up to score them—rainbows and all. Delighted giggles and frustrated snarls accompany the exhibition, followed by a cut back to the couch—Fluttershy still having a grand time, Sunset bouncing up to stand on the cushions as if that might improve her chances.)
Fluttershy: Oh!
(The screen: Gray and the dropped acorn sit dejectedly by the infuriated Sunset’s tree, while Blue has made it up to the house in Fluttershy’s and dropped one more nut into the bucket to top off the meter, setting off yet another iridescent light show. Back to the couch: Fluttershy sitting cross-legged, Sunset on her feet and ready to blow every gasket she has.)
Sunset: What do you want from me?!? (running toward camera) Tell me what you need!
(The screen—both squirrels on the ground, Gray repeatedly running into its tree trunk as Blue easily dodges a hail of twigs. The couch: Fluttershy has shed her headset, and Sunset has hunched down into the cushions to voice her rage in a loud, muffled, groaning sob, which turns into a feral scream when she straightens up. The screen: Gray tosses its acorn up only to get hit on the noggin by it and knocked silly, while Blue avoids the falling twigs and climbs up. By the time it reaches the bucket, it has collected no fewer than three nuts—enough to fill Fluttershy’s meter a second time and set off the rainbows when they are dumped in. Sunset’s meter, meanwhile, has remained empty this entire time.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Yippee!
(The rainbows fill her side of the screen, accompanied by Blue’s ecstatic visage. Sunset’s half, on the other hand, is filled by a wash of purple paint and Gray’s teary countenance. One winks, the other cries, and the camera returns to a very happy Fluttershy and an utterly gobsmacked Sunset on the couch. Fluttershy has donned her headset again, and she sets her controller aside.)
Fluttershy: Did I do it right?
Sunset: That was… (grinning widely) …amazing! (She hands over her own controller.) Can I watch you play it again?
(An enthusiastic nod from the yellow girl, and both have trained their attention straight ahead for the next go-round. Cut directly to the closing credits.)
“Best in Show: The Pre-Show” Written by Gillian M. Berrow
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a long shot of the Canterlot High School gym. Most of the floor is covered with carpet or synthetic turf, on which various playthings appropriate for a pet show have been set up—seesaw, hoop, fences/walls to jump over, and so on. Several dogs sit/stand/lie here and there, a row of snack tables is set up to one side, and a few students occupy the bleachers opposite these. Lengths of bunting in assorted colors are strung in the rafters, the basketball goals have been swung up out of the way, and banners adorned with a logo of a gold crown superimposed on a blue paw print hang from walls, ceiling, and the stage at the far end of the room. Blue/yellow paw-shaped balloons have been added as a final touch, and the stage itself is set with a three-level medal podium. Zoom in slowly on Applejack and Fluttershy, standing in front of a table near the stage; the paw print appears and zooms up to the camera, the crown drawing itself in, before the screen fades to white.)
(Fade in to a close-up of the two girls, each holding a microphone. The logo appears on these and also in the bottom right corner of the screen—an online video in progress. Fluttershy huddles fearfully behind Applejack, a long sheet of paper gripped in her free hand as if wishing it could transport her away from this place.)
Applejack: (as Fluttershy keeps trying to hide completely) Howdy! And welcome to the first annual Canterlot Pet Show. (pulling her fully into view) Sure is great to be here, ain’t it?
Fluttershy: (woodenly, reading from sheet) Sure is, Applejack. Can’t wait to see all the wonderful contestants. (She cowers behind it.)
Applejack: (chuckling) All righty, then. You heard the lady. (walking away) Let’s meet ’em!
(Her most reluctant co-host scrambles to catch up, still keeping the paper up to block every square inch of her face she can. A moment later, they are walking past a long row of tables, where various teens are looking after their pets; one improbable addition to the group is Micro Chips, wrenching on a home-built robot. A wall of curtains forms the backdrop, through which the gym can be seen through a gap. Throughout the rest of this short, the view will wobble slightly from time to time, as if the camera were not being held entirely steady.)
Applejack: This is the backstage area, where the pets get fresh and spiffy before the competition. (Stop; Fluttershy runs into her.) Right, Fluttershy?
(The latter responds by backing out of view, only for the farmer to grab one yellow arm and reel her in with a slightly strained grin. The sheet of notes is now gone.)
Fluttershy: (faintly) Mmm-hmm. (Slow pan across the area; she continues o.s.) Fresh and spiffy.
(The camera motion brings Pinkie into view, playing with Gummy, as well as Flash Sentry with a small dog dressed in a sweater. He reacts with some surprise upon finding the lens trained on him.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Well, look at this handsome feller! (Close-up; he grins/waves as both girls cross to him.) Tell us about your pooch. (Fluttershy leans down to hear it bark.)
Flash: Oh! The dog’s a Boston terrier named—
Fluttershy: (with new enthusiasm) Banana. (Four stunned eyes turn her way; she addresses the dog.) Anything else to share?
(Banana yips a bit more, prompting a soft giggle.)
Fluttershy: Banana’s favorite snack is bananas, he loves his banana toy, and his favorite pastime is—
(The powers of her magical pendant are coming in handy, no doubt. She is cut off by a different round of barking from o.s.)
Fluttershy: (darting away, as Flash pets Banana) Aww, what a cutie.
(Cut to a close-up of a very small, very fluffy dog cradled in Bulk Biceps’ brawny arms; it sounds off happily into the microphone Fluttershy has extended into view toward it. He has tied sushi-patterned kerchiefs around both its neck and his own for the occasion.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Oh, really? (A bit more; zoom out to frame her.) She loves daytime TV, is a great listener, and— (Applejack hustles over to her.)
Applejack: Uh, I think the show’ll be startin’ soon, so we should wrap this up.
Fluttershy: I think we have time for one more quick interview.
(She hurries away on the end of this, not catching the look of mild bemusement on Applejack’s face. Cut to Apple Bloom, brush poised over the back of Applejack’s dog Winona.)
Applejack: (from o.s., flabbergasted) Winona? (Bark; she crosses to these two, already joined by Fluttershy.) What are you doin’ back here? (Another one.)
Fluttershy: (giggling) Oh, Winona only said that she wanted to surprise you by competing today.
Applejack: Huh. Yee-haa! (hurrying off with Bloom/Winona) We gotta get ready to win that gold!
(Fluttershy is ever so slightly puzzled to find herself working without a partner as owners and pets begin to file past her and an electronic chime rings out. She is quick to smile and address the camera.)
Fluttershy: That’s the signal. It’s time to enjoy the cutest show in Canterlot!
(The blue paw print zooms up from the center of the screen and is crowned, just as at the beginning of this short. A flare of white fills the view, followed by a snap to the closing credits.)
“Best in Show: The Victory Lap” Written by Katie Chilson
Note: This short is a continuation of the preceding one.
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a blurry close-up of Applejack and Fluttershy in the Canterlot High gym. They have equipped themselves with headset microphones to go with their handheld units. A quick equipment/hair adjustment, a grin from the freckled blonde, and the blue paw print of the Canterlot Pet Show’s logo zooms up to the camera and receives its gold crown. The completed logo shrinks down into the bottom right corner of the screen as the image comes into focus and Applejack dusts herself off before addressing the camera.)
Applejack: Giddyup! What a show! So many surprises, and one too many jugglin’ acts, if you ask me. And now for the victory lap. Here comes [sic] our participation winners!
(Comes now a steady procession of students carrying their pets; the former wave to the crowd, while a ribbon has been bestowed on each of the latter—including Gummy, being towed along the carpet by Pinkie on the end of a leash.)
Fluttershy: I have such a hard time reading that Gummy. (Close-up of the toy; she continues o.s.) He’s a pet of mystery.
(This assessment leaves Applejack at a momentary loss for words.)
Applejack: Next up, our third-place partners…
(Cut to a close-up of Micro, waving sheepishly and walking the circuit, and zoom out on the next line to frame his robot, which stands about as high as his waist and is wearing a green ribbon. The body is constructed from flexible hoses and various bits of hardware, including a toaster from which a nicely browned slice of bread pops up as a smiley-faced head.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) …Micro Chips and JVJ-Two-Four-Six-Oh-One!
(It bleeps happily and waves a pincer-tipped arm under this last, after which the camera cuts back to the two hosts.)
Applejack: (aside, hushed) Uh…hey, Fluttershy. Does a robot count as a pet?
(The yellow girl just stares ahead, her mind temporarily locked solid—and the smiling piece of toast ejects itself and is promptly replaced by a burnt one decorated with a face on the verge of a full crying jag, marked by a spatter of dejected beeps from JVJ.)
Applejack: (forcing a smile) Uh…I mean, over to you, Fluttershy!
Fluttershy: Thank you, Applejack! JVJ-Two-Four-Six-Oh-One really wowed the judges with their super-shiny coat.
(Cut to Micro and his gleaming creation on the end of this, he patting its shoulder, then back to Applejack—her badly unsettled expression broadcasting one thought: “This is not what I signed up for.” In an instant, though, she is all business and back on the job.)
Applejack: Our second-place team sure knows how to put a game face on durin’ a tough competition. (Pan to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: Couldn’t agree more, Applejack.
(Cut to said team—Rainbow pulling Tank along on a skateboard via a rope tied to its nose and loving every bit of attention from the crowd. The tortoise is decked out in helmet and pads, and a red ribbon is affixed to his shell.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) And Tank kept his focus— (Rainbow stops and picks him up.) —despite the distraction of being totally in love.
(This last bit throws the soccer ace for a loop, and it takes her a second to realize that her wrinkled green buddy has started making goo-goo eyes at Bulk’s little dog.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Bravo, Tank!
(Hearts burst upward from the fluffy canine’s head, prompting its owner to beam and Rainbow to recoil in sheer disbelief at the implausible attraction.)
Applejack: Huh…you sure do have the inside scoop, Fluttershy.
Fluttershy: Well, Tank is a very talkative tortoise.
Applejack: And our big winners!
(Cut to Bloom and a leashed, ribbon-less Winona. The redhead bends down to pet the pooch as Cranky Doodle trudges past, accompanied by an equally sour-faced dog dressed in a sweater that matches his.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Huh. I don’t know about you, Fluttershy, but I can’t think of a more deservin’ duo. (Cut to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: Yes. Despite being in a horribly cranky mood during the personality round, Fluffersnuff really turned on the charm for the win.
(During this line, the camera cuts to a close-up of Cranky, pans/tilts down to his dog, then cuts back to her. Following a sotto-voce grumble from the animal, all three winning pets take their respective places on the stage’s medal podium, with their owners and a few other human/animal competitors off to both sides. Applejack and Fluttershy are now up here as well, Applejack pinning a blue ribbon on Fluffersnuff’s sweater.)
Fluttershy: You guys did great!
(Cheers erupt from the onlookers as the pup snags JVJ’s overcooked “head” in its teeth and begins to gnaw; a new, smiling replacement immediately pops up to the sound of electronic happiness. The show logo fades away from the bottom right corner of the screen, its paw print zooming up at center screen and being re-crowned; the background fades to black, and it does likewise a moment later.)
“Schedule Swap” Written by Gillian M. Berrow
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to an overhead shot of Canterlot High during the day. Zoom in slowly and cut to Principal Celestia in her office, seated behind her desk and speaking into the intercom microphone she holds.)
Celestia: Welcome to another exciting school year at Canterlot High.
(Cut to a slow pan across an art studio, in which a toga-clad Bulk has struck a pose on a central podium. Around him is a circle of easels, some of which are being used by students paying various degrees of attention—or lack thereof—to sketch him. The camera motion brings a noticeably confused Applejack into view at the far side of the room.)
Celestia: (over intercom) As you settle into your new classes, please make sure everything’s in order.
Applejack: (angrily, standing up) Everything’s not in order! Where’s Pinkie Pie?
(Cut to a long shot of the stage in the gym and zoom in slowly. A single broad spotlight casts the only illumination, shining down on a group of students seated on mats in a circle. Fluttershy and Photo Finish are among their number, while another teen has risen to one knee as if to act out a scene—a drama class in progress. Cut to the two girls.)
Fluttershy: (to Photo) Um, isn’t Rarity in this class?
(A noncommittal shrug is the only reply she gets. From here, cut to a classroom occupied by variously attentive/excited/bored students, one of whom is a rather perplexed Twilight. Zoom in as a paper airplane loops lazily through the still air, then cut to a close-up of the budding genius. She runs a worried eye over the schedule printout lying before her.)
Twilight: But I thought Sunset Shimmer was in advanced physics with me. (The plane lodges in her hair; Sandalwood addresses her from the next desk back.)
Sandalwood: This is regular physics, dude. (Twilight shoots upright, the plane falling away.)
Twilight: What?!?
(She hustles for the door, schedule clutched tightly and a breath hitching in her throat. The start of the next line is heard over the intercom, but finishes normally once the camera cuts to Celestia in her office.)
Celestia: All final schedule changes must be made by the end of the day.
(She has barely enough time to set the microphone back on the desk before six girls—all of the Rainbooms save Sunset—burst in to wedge themselves in the doorway, all waving schedules and complaining at full voice. The logjam ends with them tumbling to the floor in a heap; Applejack is the first to rise, the others following suit as she speaks.)
Applejack: I was supposed to be in wood shop with Pinkie Pie, not frou-frou paintin’ time with nobody.
(An idea occurs to Celestia, prompting her to smile and begin taking notes.)
Fluttershy: (stroking hair nervously) I only signed up for drama to be with Rarity, but she wasn’t there—which was very dramatic, but for all the wrong reasons.
Celestia: (still jotting) Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out.
(A flurry of pale pink fingers on computer keys, and her printer cranks out one new schedule after another. These are held out to the group in a stack, bringing a cacophony of relieved chatter. Wipe to a close-up of Rarity standing in a wood shop classroom and studying hers incredulously; she has donned safety glasses, work gloves, and earmuffs. On the net line, zoom out to frame the entire space as the sound of power tools underscores her words; the other students, including Zephyr Breeze, are hard at it on assorted projects.)
Rarity: (groaning, propping glasses on forehead) This is the strangest math class I’ve ever been in.
(Close-up; Zephyr crosses to her, carrying a small wooden flute he has made.)
Zephyr: That’s ’cause it’s wood shop.
(The flurry of notes he plays is all the impetus she needs to cringe mightily and bug out. Cut to a pan through the home economics classroom, now the site of a long string of student-initiated culinary disasters, and stop on Rainbow slumped over a table. Her feet in a puddle of spilled batter, she pours something into the mixing bowl resting before her, straightens up, and pulls her befouled schedule partway out of it.)
Rainbow: Huh…Sunset should be in here.
(A furtive look around informs her that no teachers are watching, so she puts on a burst of super speed and clears out of the ravaged cooking space. Cut to a full classroom in which Pinkie is standing and working at a blackboard chalked thick with equations; Twilight enters, no longer carrying her schedule.)
Twilight: Pinkie Pie, have you seen Sunset? (peering closely at board, smiling, adjusting glasses) Wait. I didn’t know you were taking advanced physics.
Pinkie: Advanced physics? (Laugh.) Thank goodness! I thought they had ruined PE. (running out) Rainbow Dash, I’m on my way! (voice fading) DON’T CHOOSE TEAMS WITHOUT ME!!
(Physical education, that is—also known as gym class. Twilight utters an exasperated sigh and puts a hand to her face, having experienced the glory of a fresh bureaucratic foul-up. Cut to Celestia’s office, once again playing host to a half-dozen irritated teens clamoring for her to make sense of this craziness. This time, though, her smile has given way to a stern expression and she stands up from her chair, instantly silencing them. Rarity no longer wears her protective equipment from wood shop.)
Celestia: Girls, I think I can arrange for you all to have one class period together. (sitting) But this is the final change, okay?
(Mollified, the girls voice happy agreement, accompanied by a tip of Applejack’s hat. Wipe to the cafeteria during lunchtime and zoom in on the six eating at one table, the farmer sitting with her chair turned backwards.)
Applejack: Well, she wasn’t lyin’. (Close-up.) Lunch technically is a class period.
Pinkie: Best class to have together ever!
Rainbow: (amid laughs from the others) Sure is!
Fluttershy: Um, has anyone seen Sunset?
(Cut to Celestia at her office desk, typing on her computer. The heretofore-missing seventh Rainboom walks up, schedule in hand.)
Sunset: I think I’m supposed to have lunch this period?
(To which the harried principal responds with a weary sigh and a hand over her face. “Iris out” to black, centered on Sunset’s confused expression; the aperture pauses briefly so she can turn it toward the camera, then closes altogether.)
“Twilight Under the Stars” Written by Gillian M. Berrow
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an extreme close-up of a fruit tray on a table. Twilight reaches into view to take a piece; on the start of the next line, cut to a longer shot of this area—one of the exhibit halls within the planetarium to which Timber Spruce took her in “Star Crossed.” She and Pinkie are at the table, helping themselves to fruit and cupcakes respectively, and a lively crowd has gathered for an event. Flash, Sunset, and Timber are talking among themselves amid the buzz of conversation, and everyone is kitted out in formal wear and dresses of various calibers. None of the three Rainbooms is wearing her pendant, and Pinkie has traded her usual blue bracelets for a pair of pale orange ones on each wrist.)
Twilight: Thank you so much for helping me with tonight’s Canterlot Celestial Society Member Social, Pinkie Pie.
Pinkie: (adding sprinkles to a cupcake) No trouble, space rubble. (Set it down.) Stars are like the glitter of the sky!
(A tiny poof of purple smoke drifts up—the result of her explosive-sweets ability—and Twilight’s good spirits instantly give way to a world-class case of nerves.)
Twilight: I’m so nervous! (pulling out a brochure) My favorite astrophysicist, Rosette Nebula, is here!
(Close-up of the paper on the end of this; prominently featured is a woman with pale blue-green skin, dark purple hair gathered into a bun, and medium green eyes behind black-framed spectacles. It is quickly pulled away from the camera.)
Twilight: She’s so smart, and cool, and probably very funny. (Wince.) Do you think she’ll like me?
Pinkie: (pulling Twilight close) Of course she will!
(There follows a general rush off to one side, prompting Twilight to gasp in surprise; pan quickly in that direction and stop on Rosette Nebula and the attendees flocking to her. The guest of honor is clad in an off-white turtleneck with a white collar, magenta skirt suit with lighter lapels, and dark purple high heels.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) There she is! (Close-up of the woman, autographing one fellow’s book.) Rosette Nebula! (Pan quickly back to Twilight and Pinkie.) I just have to meet her!
Pinkie: (winking) And I have to get this celestial celebration into orbit! (She drops out of sight, then pops up in extreme close-up.) WOO-HOO!! (shaking camera) SPACE PARTY!!
(When she plunges o.s. this time, the view wipes behind the top edge of her hair to a long shot of the hall. Zoom in slowly for a moment, then cut to Rosette chatting with a couple of women at the snack table. Twilight watches her from several feet back, frozen in silent panic with her lower lip caught in her teeth; here comes Pinkie, about to dig into a fresh cupcake, but she stops and smiles slyly upon seeing her friend’s unease. In a move almost too fast to follow with the naked eye, the party lover has ditched the dessert, whisked over, and pushed Twilight across the floor to stop just behind Rosette. The eminent scientist eats a morsel from her plate...Twilight relaxes and taps Rosette’s back for attention...and then two pink hands reach down to plop a balloon hat styled to resemble Gummy on the ponytailed head. The green eyes swivel to take in this bit of unorthodox millinery, and Rosette’s amused little grin is met by Twilight’s huge stupid one and furious blush. The girl backs away as a woman steps up to speak to Rosette and Pinkie stands up into view in the fore.)
Pinkie: (to herself) Hmmm…
(Elsewhere in the hall, a now-hatless Twilight catches sight of Rosette in conversation across the way, gathers her nerve, and goes into a slightly jerky approach. Pinkie nips in to watch her from behind, a fresh sneaky smile taking root on her face, and an instant later she has jumped onto the snack table to plant a…)
Pinkie: PARTY CANNON!!
(Twilight has no time to move before it goes off, caking her in confetti from top to toe and leaving her to blink the mess out of her eyes in close-up. Pinkie’s satisfied little hum is heard from o.s., followed by Rosette and the guests stepping away from the pair in a longer shot as Pinkie’s glee evaporates in the face of her blunder. Cut to the woman and three guests, laughing lightly as they move off to one side, and zoom in slowly on two figures near the planetarium’s statue of Starswirl the Bearded. Timber, standing, gives a cup of punch to a seated, cleaned-up, downhearted Twilight and pats her shoulder consolingly before walking off. Twilight sighs heavily in close-up, after which the camera tilts up quickly to Pinkie gazing concernedly down at her from the statue’s shoulder. The pink teen glances toward the sculpted face and thinks hard; after a moment, her eyes pop and a brightly glowing light bulb winks into being next to her head—a brainstorm has struck under the magenta curls. This vanishes as she whisks down with a shiny-eyed grin; cut to ground level, where the squeaky front wheels of a food cart pull into view and stop. The camera shifts to frame its cargo—a stack of plates and a large, two-tiered cake iced with white and dark blue to resemble a starry sky and topped with model suns and planets. Pinkie stands up into view in the fore.)
Pinkie: ATOMIC CHOCOLATE CAAAAKE!!
(Long shot of the hall on this last word, zooming out as eyes and feet turn her way, then cut to the cart as the guests eagerly help themselves. Pinkie carries two loaded plates over to Twilight and passes one over, earning a small smile of gratitude, and the latter takes a bite in close-up.)
Twilight: Mmm!
Older female voice: Did you know the smell of chocolate increases brain waves and contains—
(Zoom out quickly. The speaker is Rosette, who has a plate of her own and is addressing herself in Twilight’s general direction. Twilight is quick to stand and continue the sentence with gusto, paying no mind whatever to Pinkie standing behind her or Timber behind Rosette. The Camp Everfree counselor flips a grin and thumbs-up to Pinkie before backing out of view on the next line—evidently these two joined forces to bring Twilight out of her funk. Pinkie has disposed of her cake and plate.)
Twilight: —the neurotransmitter serotonin, which triggers relaxation and contentment. (She freezes up slightly upon realizing whose thought she has finished.)
Pinkie: (pushing her toward Rosette) Mmm, science-y.
Rosette: (shaking hands with Twilight) I’m Rosette Nebula.
Twilight: (smiling, relaxing) Oh! I’m Twilight Sparkle. It’s such an honor to meet you. (fading out, as the two walk off) Oh, I’m so interested to hear about your theories about—
Pinkie: (knowingly, to camera) Cake fixes everything.
(She winks as the view “irises out” to black, the aperture star-shaped and centered on her face.)
“Five Stars” Written by Gillian M. Berrow, Kate Chilson
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the exterior of the 1950s diner where Pinkie works, as seen in “Coinky-Dink World” and “Pinkie Pie: Snack Psychic.” It is daytime, and the camera zooms in slowly before cutting to a slow pan across the busy interior. During the next line, stop on Pinkie and two of her coworkers standing behind the counter; she has her cell phone out and is watching it intently.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Best diner in Canterlot, ladies! Not a single bad review. Five-star rating on Screech!
Waitress 1: (picking up a plated pie slice) Let’s keep it up!
(Pinkie roller-skates to deliver it to a booth where Octavia is sitting and using her own phone.)
Pinkie: Super-happy with your flavor selection? (Octavia smiles and nods.) How about a review?
(Five white stars appear in front of the giddily grinning waitress and wink to gold one at a time, symbolizing a top-tier review of the experience.)
Pinkie: (savagely, lifting phone overhead) Yeah!
(The stars vanish, and she rolls across to a booth playing host to two Crystal Prep Academy students, one of whom is Fleur. The other one speaks up. Pinkie has now pocketed the device.)
Student: We’ll both have the club sandwich— (Pinkie darts away and instantly returns with two orders of this dish, one with fries and the other with salad.)
Pinkie: I thought you might.
(The food is served up, Fleur receiving the fries with hers. She speaks with a Valley Girl accent, rather than the cultured British one of her pony counterpart as heard in “Sweet and Elite.”)
Fleur: Wow, that was, like, so fast.
Pinkie: (pulling out phone) That’s what I like to hear! Care to Screech about it?
(Both patrons bring out their phones and tap at the screens, and as before, the five white stars appear and go gold; this time, Pinkie grins as her own baby blues change to match them. In the time it takes her to skate past the counter and high-five the other two waitresses, the stars and her phone are out of sight and her eyes are back to normal. Her next stop is to refill the coffee mug of an elderly, hard-faced woman with pale grayish-violet skin at a corner booth. The latter blows across the surface to cool it; cut to an extreme close-up of her lips as she lifts the mug. On the start of the next line, zoom out quickly to frame Pinkie leaning cheerfully down to her level.)
Pinkie: Can I get you anything else?
(The interruption freezes the mug just short of the target and startles its holder into almost sloshing the coffee into her own lap.)
Woman: (lifting a newspaper) Nah. Just gonna enjoy my paper.
Pinkie: (saluting) Okey-dokey-lokey!
(She is gone in a blink, and the woman sips from her mug and settles down to read—but Pinkie returns just as quickly, spooking her into another near-spill.)
Pinkie: Hope you’re enjoying your paper! (refilling mug) If you’re enjoying your service too, feel free to leave a Screech!
(The woman brings up her phone and taps away; here come the white stars, going gold one by one—but now the rightmost one remains unchanged. Watching the progression on her own screen, Pinkie reacts to the less-than-perfect score by voicing a shuddery sigh as her fluffy hair deflates into a lank magenta mass. Her spirits crushed, she wheels slowly back to the counter; the stars wink out, and the other waitresses gasp in shock upon seeing her downcast expression. She has stashed her phone again and put the coffeepot aside.)
Pinkie: We just got our first-ever four-star review! (sobbing, covering eyes) We’re doomed! (A full-bore crying jag follows.)
Waitress 2: Four stars doesn’t seem so bad.
Waitress 1: Gosh darn, it’s still a good review. Our streak was bound to end sometime. (Pinkie straightens up, fresh fire in her eyes.)
Pinkie: No! (showing them a full handful of fingers) We are a five-star diner! (Zoom in to a close-up.) I have to fix this!
(Back at the booth, she peeks up over the edge of the table, her hair restored, and stands up with a fresh mug. Extreme close-up of the woman’s face; the one she is drinking from is switched out for this one almost before she can react.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Just in case the first one gets cold!
(Zoom out slightly; a nasty look, an irked drink, and the customer goes back to catching up on the news of the day. Pinkie’s next trick is to lower herself from the ceiling, a rope tied around her waist.)
Pinkie: (pulling a plated pie slice from her hair) Complimentary piece of pie?
(The paper is swiftly rolled up and smacked against the treat, and Pinkie offers a sheepish grin and lets herself be reeled up, up and away. The woman has barely had time to unfurl the newsprint before an entire pie is held up to her from somewhere below table level. Up comes the overeager waitress, free of the suspending rope, to displace the paper.)
Pinkie: Complimentary whole pie?
(Another harsh glare as the pages are lifted to block her line of sight. A moment of intense thought on Pinkie’s part yields to a smile of fierce inspiration; within moments, she has put her skates into overdrive and begun to load the table with one culinary offering after another By the time she finishes, the spread consists of two pies, a stack of pancakes, a three-tiered cake, two extra mugs of coffee, Sunset’s magic journal, Bulk’s small dog—as seen in the “Best in Show” shorts and pulled from Pinkie’s hair—and a hopelessly flummoxed Twilight standing alongside the lot.)
(A dissolve frames the booth and its impassive occupant now sitting amid a proliferation of additional food, items, and party paraphernalia. Twilight is eating one of several cupcakes that have been dropped off.)
Twilight: Mmm! (She walks away; Pinkie whips over to the booth.)
Pinkie: Ugh! What am I doing wrong?!? (Pause; she becomes sullen.) Fine! (skating away; pan to follow) I’ll just leave you alone!
(She does not get more than a few feet away before her phone begins to vibrate in her pocket. Out it comes, the four-star review display appearing below her—but now that last star flicks from white to gold and she brightens with a huge gasp. She pivots back to the booth, the camera panning quickly back to the woman; she lowers her paper.)
Woman: (half-smiling) All I wanted was some peace and quiet.
(Her face goes slack as the camera zooms out to frame Pinkie now alongside with a coffeepot at the ready, and she is quick to roll up and brandish her paper. The perky teen takes the hint and slowly backpedals out of view with an innocent whistle, whereupon the woman smiles and reopens it to carry on with her perusal. Cut directly to the closing credits.)
“FOMO” Written by Gillian M. Berrow, Kate Chilson
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a Canterlot High hallway during the school day. Rainbow closes her locker and starts into a magic-powered sprint that takes her past Rarity, who has a backpack slung up.)
Rarity: Oh! (Rainbow slams on the brakes.) Rainbow Dash! Would you like to come over after school today to—
Rainbow: Oh! Uh, that sounds really cool, but I can’t. I have, uh, plans.
Rarity: What sort of pla—
Rainbow: (rattled, rapid fire) Just chores and stuff! Gotta go!
(The ensuing high-speed peel-out leaves the fashionista properly perplexed. Cut to one of the school’s side doors, from which she emerges to the sound of an engine sputtering to life, and zoom out to frame the edge of the parking lot. Rainbow is sitting astride a sky-blue motorcycle striped in all the colors of her hair and has donned a helmet, and Twilight fastens one of her own in place while standing alongside.)
Twilight: I’ve always wanted to do this! It’s gonna be so much fun!
(She takes the seat behind Rainbow, and both laugh as the jock feeds gas to take them toward the street. Neither of them spares even a moment’s notice for the thunderstruck Rarity, who glowers mightily to herself and hurries after them. By the time she reaches the curb, though, they are zooming away.)
Rarity: (waving, calling back the way they departed) Taxi! TAXIII!!
(One pulls up in a screech of tires and she climbs in the back seat.)
Rarity: (to cabbie) Follow that motorbike!
(As she says this, she sets her backpack on the seat, fastens her seat belt, and points ahead. The cabbie pulls away in another shriek of rubber on pavement and a screen-filling cloud of exhaust fumes. This last drifts up and out of view, the image wiping behind it to a retail area somewhere in Canterlot. Rainbow’s motorcycle is parked at the curb, but neither rider is present. The taxi pulls up on the opposite side, and one rear window rolls down to frame Rarity—now wearing a purple scarf knotted over her hair, matching sunglasses, and a highly suspicious expression. The tinted lenses go up on the forehead, the seat belt comes off, and a pair of binoculars is brought into play. Cut to her perspective, panning to Twilight and Rainbow as they step out of a grocery store with several full shopping bags; both have shed their helmets. The view passes them, but swings back to follow their movement in time with a soft gasp from Rarity.)
Rarity: (softly) They’re shopping without me. (Back to her; another gasp and she lowers the lenses.) I’ve never felt so betrayed in all my life!
(Up they go; back to her perspective. Now Fluttershy and Sunset leave the store and join the pair, each hauling her own load of goods. Back to a flabbergasted Rarity as she lowers the binoculars again.)
Rarity: No!
Sunset: (to Twilight/Fluttershy/Rainbow) We’ll see you guys there!
(The four shoppers begin to disperse; cut to inside the taxi. Rarity, in close-up, pulls her head in and hunches down to avoid being seen by Fluttershy and Sunset as they pass.)
Sunset: (as Fluttershy giggles) ’ll have plenty of time to think about that.
(The style-conscious teen sits up and stares after them, struggling mightily to keep her composure.)
Rarity: (removing sunglasses, setting binoculars aside) I guess their plans don’t involve me. (buckling seat belt) Driver, take me home! (Zoom out to frame the cabbie on the start of the following.)
Cabbie: Uh, lady, I need an address.
(Rarity slumps in her seat, face clearly broadcasting her self-aimed disgust at having forgotten this rather important bit of protocol in using a taxi. Wipe to a stretch of road in a residential area; the vehicle pulls up and Rarity climbs out, carrying her backpack and no longer wearing the head scarf.)
Rarity: I guess I’ll just…be alone…by myself.
(She approaches a pair of front doors marked with blue gems that match the ones favors—this must be her home.)
Rarity: (increasingly overwrought, opening one door) While all my friends are having fun together.
(She topples backwards across the threshold. Cut to the interior of a dimly lit room, the camera placed just inside the closed door. It swings open to frame Rarity, no longer hauling the backpack.)
Rarity: Without… (The lights snap on.)
Other Rainbooms: (from o.s.) SURPRISE!!
(She is completely unprepared for both this and the gentle rain of confetti that begins to patter down around her. Zoom out quickly to frame the area as her bedroom, tricked out for a celebration and populated by the gang, Spike in Fluttershy’s lap, and Rarity’s cat Opalescence.)
Other Rainbooms: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RARITY! (Close-up of Rarity.)
Rarity: Wha—? (Cut to the others on the next line.)
Rainbow: You didn’t think we’d let you spend your birthday alone, did you?
(The others’ furtive behavior is now explained—they needed to stay clear of her in order to plan out this soiree. They gather in around their friend, Pinkie plopping a party hat atop the elegant purple coiffure. Rarity, now wearing her backpack, stammers for quite a few moments before finding her way up to a smile and a coherent word.)
Rarity: Of course not, darling! (as Pinkie giggles) I knew you had something up your sleeve from the very beginning.
(As completely divorced as these words are from reality, the others humor her with a laugh and a group hug. A blush steals over the white cheeks, the mouth under them stretching into a tremulous smile, and the view fades to black.)
“I’m on a Yacht” Music/Lyrics by John Jennings Boyd, Lisette Bustamante
Hip-hop synthesizer line with growing electronic percussion, fast 4 (B major)
Only lyrics marked with an asterisk (*) are sung; all others are delivered as a rap
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a long shot of the Lux Deluxe, the ship that served as the setting for the bulk of “Spring Breakdown,” pushing on through the ocean during the day. The camera shifts to frame it from various angles, finally rising past the bow to frame the deck in a long overhead shot. The figures of the Rainbooms can just be perceived at this distance; cut to a jittering close-up in time with a stuttering airhorn blast. They are wearing the vacation attire from the special and grooving to the beat.)
Rainboomss: Hey, hey
Sunset: Check our new ride
The wind is blowing and we’re feeling real fly
Me and my girls are pumped up
Others: That’s right
(Four dolphins wearing sunglasses leap from the sea.)
Rarity: Gonna see some dolphins ’fore the end of the night (dolphins)
(Water drains over the view, changing it to a close-up of Applejack holding a tube of sunscreen.)
Rainbow: Hold up, pass the sunscreen
Can’t nobody stop us from doing our thing
We flossing on ’em with our bling-bling
Fluttershy: Pinkie Pie’s on deck, and it’s fire she’ll bring
(The others sing the last three words in time with Fluttershy.)
Double-time feel
(Pinkie tips her heart-shaped sunglasses down, a moment later, she has changed into her “Forgotten Friendship” swimsuit and back.)
Pinkie: We hotties on a yachtie, it’s a special kind of party
Setting sail so we can play because it’s anchors aweigh
(Fluttershy wiggles her bare toes while floating in the pool.)
We got floaty-woaties, beach toties, queens of the sea
We’re fabulous, phenomenal
* Rainbooms: Don’t you agree?
Double-time feel ends
Hey, hey, hey, hands in the air
(Twilight and Sunset shake hips and hair, respectively.)
Oh, oh, oh, wind in our hair
We’re hopping on, so float along
’Cause EG’s on this yacht
(Rarity enjoys a drink from a crew member’s tray, while Fluttershy dances with a knot of Canterlot High students.)
’Ey, ’ey, sipping on lemonade
Shining bright, but we’re throwing no shade
(Pinkie, in swimsuit and shades, dangles her feet in the pool with Derpy Hooves and Lyra Heartstrings. In no time flat, though, she is back in her dress and has regrouped with the other six.)
Exclusively, we’re VIP
’Cause EG’s on this yacht
(A flare of white washes over the screen and clears to present an overhead shot of Applejack, dozing on a beach towel spread out on the deck. Zoom in to a close-up that gives a clear view of the reddish tint on every exposed inch of skin—sunburn ahoy.)
Rainbooms: Oh, no
Sunset: The sun’s beating down
AJ fell asleep when no one was around
Pinkie: What?
Sunset: Now she’s got a burn and a serious frown
(She comes up smiling and tries a dance step, but winces at the pain.)
Applejack: That won’t even stop me from really gettin’ down
(DJ P0N-3 mans the turntables that have been set up in the lounge overlooking the pool as students get down on it.)
Rainbooms: Hey
Rainbow: DJ, drop that beat
She knows what we need to make us move our feet
(Several jump into the pool.)
Diving in the pool to escape the heat
(The screen flares white and clears to show the dining room. The female chef who faced off against Pinkie lifts the cover off the tray she holds to reveal a live lobster with a bright blue-violet shell. Twilight and Pinkie are shocked at the sight, but Fluttershy is ecstatic.)
Rarity: Now we’re getting hungry and it’s time to eat
Double-time feel
(The animal lover scoops the crustacean into a hug, bringing smiles to her friends’ faces while leaving the chef at a loss.)
Pinkie: Lobster on a silver platter ’cause the cost don’t even matter
All expenses are paid, EG crew
Rainbooms: Got it made
(A few students sail small boats past the bow as seagulls arc lazily overhead and the seven watch from the rail.)
Pinkie: Little boats are drifting by, seagulls up in the sky
We’re a picture of perfection as we wave to them
* Rainbooms: Hi
Double-time feel ends
(Twilight and Sunset show “jazz hands”; Fluttershy takes her new “pet” for a walk on the deck, earning cheers and a few pictures snapped on cell phones, and Twilight uses her own to get a shot of the septet.)
* Rainbooms: Hey, hey, hey, hands in the air
Oh, oh, oh, wind in our hair
We’re hopping on, so float along
’Cause EG’s on this yacht
(Sunset, about to enjoy a cold drink, shows great consternation at a gull helping itself.)
’Ey, ’ey, sipping on lemonade
(A race in the pool: Twilight, Pinkie, and Rainbow paddle inflatable floats as onlookers cheer them on.)
Shining bright, but we’re throwing no shade
(Rarity blows a kiss; Twilight points excitedly over the rail at a pair of leaping, sunglasses-wearing dolphins. Slow motion for only the duration of their jump.)
Exclusively, we’re VIP
’Cause EG’s on this yacht
Half-time feel
(Cut to a darkened stage and tilt down slowly. The figures of the girls and Spike can barely be made out in the dim light, and the backdrop is a large electronic sign displaying the heart-shaped pink horseshoe that has been used as part of the Equestria Girls logo since the franchise began. Pulses radiate outward over this item as the lights come up to frame the ensemble The girls wear their performance outfits from “Spring Breakdown,” while he has donned sunglasses, a baseball cap turned backwards, an unbuttoned vest, a collar with gold spikes and matching paw medallion, gold bracelets on one foreleg, and sneakers for the hind legs on which he is now standing.)
* Rainbooms: We’re living our life like
This moment never ends
Sun shines on us so brightly
When we’re chilling with friends
Spike: (over previous, spoken normally) Worldwide, y’all! Equestria Girls crew! Keeping it hot on a yacht! (lowering shades) And it’s aaaaaaaaall good!
Half-time feel ends with a stuttering airhorn blast
* Rainbooms: Hey, hey, hey, hands in the air
(Twilight shakes her hips; Fluttershy tosses her hair.)
Oh, oh, oh, wind in our hair
We’re hopping on, so float along
’Cause EG’s on this yacht
Airhorn
(Spike takes a pull at a drink.)
’Ey, ’ey, sipping on lemonade
Shining bright, but we’re throwing no shade
Exclusively, we’re VIP
(Long shot of the vessel, cruising on as the sun sets at the horizon and the girls watch at the rail.)
’Cause EG’s on this yacht
Song ends
(Zoom out and fade to black.)
“Run to Break Free”
Music/Lyrics by Jessica Vaughn, Jess Furman, Dan Whittemore
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a scatter of birds flying up past the roof of Canterlot High during the day. The camera cuts/pans here and there through the busy hallways as students go about their usual school-day business, and finally arrives at Rainbow, backpack slung up and stowing a volleyball in her locker. The moment she shuts the door and begins to walk away, her surroundings take on a bluish tinge and shift to blurry slow motion. She, however, retains her normal hues and speed. These effects last until further notice.)
Quiet electronic percussion/handclap line with occasional vocal accents, slow 4 (D flat major)
Rainbow: I have so much more to say
But I live in slow motion, from moment to moment, hey
Synthesizer in
(She passes a collision between Snips and Trixie that has caused a deck of cards to spray from the latter’s hands, while Snails has let fly with a paper airplane.)
Holding back from day to day
The clock’s ticking slowly, but time cannot hold me down
Percussion builds
(She picks up her pace and pushes the front doors open.)
Rainbow: Find myself in the rhythm of my feet [Hey!] Feel it in my heartbeat
(Stop; adjust one sneaker.)
The time is now and I won’t hold back, hold back [Hey!]
Handclaps out
(A burst of magic speed carries her off the steps and across the lawn, leaving a rainbow contrail behind herself as her image drifts lazily across the near-frozen tableau.)
Rainbow: Gonna break free, yeah, I’m running
(Normal motion resumes for her; she weaves past a kid riding a bicycle on the sidewalk and disappears around a corner.)
Watch me, yeah, yeah, I’m running
(Finding a tractor-trailer squarely in her path at an intersection, she “ponies up” and hurls herself upward. She moves in slow motion until her feet hit the ground on the opposite side, then accelerates back to normal speed.)
I let it go in this moment, all roads open
Gonna break free, yeah, I’m running
I was born to break free
Percussion drops back; handclaps in
(Fade to white, then in to a different stretch of sidewalk and its near-frozen denizens. She whisks into view, hooks a lamppost with one hand, and spins to a stop among them. Her transformation has now reversed itself, and she brushes herself down before setting off at a leisurely pace.)
Rainbow: I choose my path, I choose my dreams
(Run a hand along a skateboarder’s helmet; throw a few punches at the air.)
My spirit’s a fighter, a passion igniter, yeah
Percussion builds; handclaps out
(Assorted calamities catch her attention: a boy about to lose the ice cream from the cone he holds, a cat-chasing dog that has caused Pinkie to trip and inadvertently hurl a tray of cupcakes toward a bike rider, Fluttershy stopping short and jerking back so that the coffee she carries is sloshing toward Twilight.)
All I need’s inside of me
A light shining brighter, a spark to a fire now
(The speedster kneels to check her laces, casually sets the ice cream back in place, and licks her finger to check the taste.)
Rainbow: I find myself in the rhythm of my feet [Hey!] Feel it in my heartbeat
(She stands, removes her backpack to leave it hanging in the air, and limbers up.)
The time is now and I won’t hold back, hold back [Hey!] [No-o]
Vocal harmonies behind lyrics
(Off she goes across the street toward her friends, the multi-hued contrail marking her path. Gather up the cupcakes; tip Pinkie back to vertical and put the reloaded tray in her hands; pick up the dog and give it to a bystander; hand the cat off to Fluttershy; scoop the coffee back into its cup and settle it firmly in Twilight’s grip.)
Rainbow: Gonna break free, yeah, I’m running [yeah]
Watch me, yeah, yeah, I’m running [I’ll really run away]
(She ponies up and zooms away as normal speed and color resume for everyone and everything else, leaving no trace of her presence except a rapidly fading contrail. All five are more than a little surprised to find that disaster has been averted on every front.)
I let it go in this moment, all roads open
Gonna break free, yeah, I’m running
I was born to break free
Song ends
(In time with her last word, she launches herself triumphantly into the sky to set off a Sonic Rainboom. Twilight, Fluttershy, and Pinkie smile and wave from the sidewalk as the view fades to black.)
“Camping Must Haves” Written by Katie Chilson; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a close-up of Applejack and Rarity sitting in the latter’s bedroom at home. Rarity reaches out to straighten the camera a bit—this is an online video in the making—and leans back in her chair once she has it to her liking. Applejack is not wearing her hat.)
Rarity: Hello, Internet darlings! It’s your music festival muses, Rarity and Applejack here— (Applejack flips a salute.) —presenting our camping must-haves.
(On these last three words, she touches her thumbs and forefingers together to form a triangle, then pulls them apart. A tent, heart, and pair of exclamation points appear between the splayed digits, then vanish in a sudden cut to the two with slightly altered postures.)
Applejack: Now you’re gonna be out in the hot sun all day long. (picking up a spray bottle from the floor) So be sure to bring plenty of sunscreen.
Rarity: Of course, your SPF won’t be complete without a chapeau.
(Sun protection factor, that is. The end of this line is delivered as a voice over when the camera cuts to her standing near the window and showing off a sun hat she has donned. In a trice, she is bounding back across the room with a rolled blanket under one arm and a parasol in the other hand, to Applejack’s considerable surprise.)
Rarity: (deploying both items) And it should match your parasol and your blanket, of course. (She darts o.s.)
Applejack: But you don’t really need all that.
Rarity: (from o.s.) And maybe a scarf.
(One is flung into view from her direction to tangle around the blond head; Applejack snatches it away and shoots her a dirty look.)
Applejack: (showing two fingers) I can think of two must-haves for makin’ an outhouse feel like an in-house.
(Close-up of two rolls of toilet paper and three bottles of green gel.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Bring your own TP and plenty of hand sanitizer.
(A pale finger hooks the camera and drags it around to face Rarity, who shows off two bottled products in quick succession.)
Rarity: (voice over) Be sure to include one or two all-natural moisturizers.
(Cut to her, pointing out a few other beauty items stacked on a side table.)
Rarity: It never hurts to have a whole set. (She puts them on the floor by Applejack’s supplies.)
Applejack: (irked) You can’t go three days without ’em?
Rarity: (hustling back and forth, adding items to the pile) Oh, I’ll fit them in, darling. I’ll just tuck them in next to the cushioned seat cover, air-freshening candle set, and four-panel privacy screen.
(This last is unfolded to present an image of Opal, prompting Applejack to voice an irritated sigh and pivot herself and the camera away from her friend.)
Applejack: And finally— (rummaging under chair, hefting a rolled sleeping bag) —you’ll need a sleepin’ bag for a few hours of shut-eye. (Rarity leans into view, in extreme close-up.)
Rarity: (singsong) Plus pillows!
(Cut to her sitting on the couch over by one wall; she shows off each type as it is mentioned.)
Rarity: (voice over) Travel pillows, body pillows, accent pillows, throw pillows, bolster pillows—(Cut to Opal making herself comfortable on one.) —hypo-allergenic pillows… (Back to Applejack, now supremely fed up and no longer holding the sleeping bag.)
Applejack: And where are you plannin’ to put all them pillows?
(She is not a bit prepared to hear her opposite number grunting with exertion and dragging the room’s four-poster canopy bed inch by inch across the floor.)
Rarity: (between grunts) Just… (After a few more heaves, she stops to catch her breath.)
Applejack: Excuse me! What happened to bringin’ only our must-haves?
Rarity: This is a one-of-a-kind bespoke four-poster bed. (grabbing one of its posts, sliding pitifully down) I absolutely must have it!
(Applejack manages to limit her exasperation to a pinch at the bridge of her nose.)
Applejack: (pivoting away, pulling camera along) Campin’s about makin’ do with what you got. It’s about breakin’ off a stick to roast marshmallows, or rustlin’ up pine needles for deodorant!
(Rarity stands on up the end of this tirade, then moves up to sit next to her and drape an arm across the T-shirted shoulders.)
Rarity: But, darling, we’re not camping.
Applejack: Huh?
(Now the fashionista’s fingers spin the camera to put them out of view and point out the window. Parked on the lawn is a motor home of some magnitude—white walls, purple roof, blue/gold trim.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) We’re glamping!
(A portmanteau of “glamour” and “camping,” that is. One side panel flips up; tree stumps fall out to create a circle of seats and a flattop grill table lands in their center. Skewers are next to fall, leaning against the edges so that the marshmallows spitted on their upper ends are in a perfect position to start toasting when the grill switches itself on. The vehicle’s horn plays a merry tune as multicolored lights play over the bodywork, after which Rarity whips the camera back to herself and Applejack. There follows a long silence, during which the farmer’s startled air shifts to one of smiling acceptance.)
Applejack: Well, I think I’m gonna like glaimpin’.
(Rarity winks. “Iris out” to black, the aperture shaped as a lozenge-cut gem and centered on her face. It pauses for a split second before closing entirely in a gleam of light.)
“Festival Filters” Written by Katie Chilson; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a long shot of the Rainbooms congregating near a wall that runs around the perimeter of a grassy outdoor area during the day. They have switched their everyday outfits for more festive duds, and a couple of hairstyle tweaks are in evidence as well. Zoom in slowly as the other teens in the vicinity disperse and Sunset raises her phone to get a picture of the seven. After the digital shutter clicks, the view cuts to a close-up of Rarity and Sunset hunkering down over the screen, the other five spreading out.)
(These two shots pick out details of the girls’ new duds. Twilight: short-sleeved, deep pink shirt with white collar/cuffs and a circular logo in white and light blue; purple skirt and boots; darker purple tights; fanny pack turned sideways; the stone from her pendant mounted in a purple star-shaped hair clip. Applejack: white dress with flowered hem and red apple clip at the neckline; brown boots marked with red apples; sunglasses with transparent green apple-shaped lenses; brown hat edged with green puffs; short denim jacket with rolled-up sleeves and yellow fringe at the pockets. Fluttershy: long-sleeved, light blue dress trimmed in pale green lace and decorated with butterflies; beaded belt; white/pink/blue-violet sneakers with thick soles, blue laces, and ankle-length pink/white-striped socks; cluster of blue-violet flowers in her hair; pendant stone in a blue-winged butterfly clip on her dress. Pinkie: short-sleeved, balloon-marked blue dress with three layer blue/yellow/pink skirt cut high in front; tights with one yellow and one blue leg; yellow-laced pink sneakers similar to Fluttershy’s; short, fluffy yellow socks; small belt pouch; pendant stone at her neckline; part of her hair gathered into two loose bunches at the back of her head. Rainbow: white T-shirt with a red/orange/yellow rainbow across the chest; short jacket in varied shades of blue three-quarter-length sleeves; dark blue shorts with multicolored splotches around the hem of each leg; long rainbow-striped socks; dark blue sneakers; transparent green sun visor; hair in a ponytail. Rarity: short-sleeved bolero jacket in light blue fur; medium pink tights; sparkly dress in zigzag stripes of pink, blue-violet, blue, and blue-green, with a gold panel on the blouse decorated by a cluster of gems in assorted blues; light blue high heels with stacked soles, hair in a ponytail. Sunset: dark gray leather jacket with magenta trim and a yellow-orange chevron stripe on each sleeve; sparkly, dark magenta pants with her cutie mark down one leg and rolled-up cuffs; shirt shading from yellow-orange at the collar down to deeper orange at the waist and marked by a grid of red triangles; magenta/yellow-orange hiking boots; pendant stone serving as a belt buckle. Bracelets and wristbands of varied hue, style and quantity are in abundance among the seven.)
Rarity: Ooh! What filter are you going to use, darling?
Sunset: I was thinking about going “hashtag ‘no filter.’ ”
(Zoom out quickly to frame the entire group save Pinkie, who has already cleared out. Sunset finds herself on the receiving end of four stunned gasps, Applejack being the only one not to register any shock.)
Applejack: Uh, not to sound like Granny Smith, but… (Cut among the others; she continues o.s.) …why do y’all care so much about a filter? (Back to her.) All it does is make a new picture look…old.
(Rarity crosses to her, exposing a string of blue gems on a gold chain in her hair and a wristband set with her pendant’s stone.)
Rarity: (laughing, patting her shoulder) Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, sweetheart, no! (reaching out with free hand) They are so much more.
(Cut to Sunset on the end of this, a bit caught out as her phone is plucked away, then back to the pair.)
Rarity: (aiming it at herself and Rarity) You can model the latest trend with Shape Chic…
(Its screen projects a live image of them, and a tap frames each girl’s head in a different king-size gem. This angle picks out Applejack’s pendant stone in one of her own wristbands.)
Applejack: (dryly) I’d never wear a dodecahedron.
(Another tap switches them out for hearts before Fluttershy commandeers the phone.)
Fluttershy: (tapping, aiming it at herself) If you’re missing your friends… (Camera-eye view of her, a bed of grass/flowers superimposed on the bottom edge.) …try Flora-slash-Fauna. (Images of birds and a hamster pop into view around her.) Oh!
(She giggles merrily; now Rainbow snags the device with a laugh.)
Rainbow: Check it out!
(Now the screen presents a close-up of her face amid a scatter of musical instruments, spotlights, and cheering concertgoers. She holds the phone at arm’s length, throwing the bullhorns with her free hand as an unimpressed Applejack watches from the background.)
Rainbow: (laughing) We’re in a band!
Applejack: Uh, we do that already. (All six girls again; Fluttershy takes the phone.)
Fluttershy: Fisheye!
(Click; she and Twilight are captured with googly eyes overlaid on their own. Next Rarity holds it high, trained on herself and Sunset.)
Rarity: Bird’s Eyes!
(Now these two appear with large, shiny, pupil-less eyes in their respective colors as Sunset flashes a peace sign. Rainbow seizes it for a shot of herself, Twilight, and Applejack.)
Rainbow: Normal Hair!
(This picture starts off looking ordinary enough, but her bangs quickly replace those of the other two subjects.)
Rainbow: You guys look great!
(Twilight’s turn; she gets herself and Sunset in the viewfinder.)
Twilight: Watson!
(Both girls acquire mustaches in this photo, Twilight gaining a monocle and Sunset a bubble pipe; magnifying glasses swing back and forth at either side. Now Fluttershy steps in.)
Fluttershy: (tapping screen) Bigfoot Blurry in the Background!
(Twilight raises the phone and snaps, getting a shot of all three—and an indistinct, brownish humanoid shambling out of the undergrowth behind them. Zoom in on this to a freeze frame, accompanied by laughs and squeals from the girls, then cut to all but Pinkie and Rainbow gathered around the phone.)
Fluttershy: Looks just like him! (Rainbow shoulders her way through.)
Rainbow: (tapping screen) Po-neigh!
(The next shutter click gets them all in view, with the heads of their pony counterparts—in the style of an earlier generation of My Little Pony toys—overlaid on their own. All six recoil from the sight; the next two lines overlap, accompanied by a scoff of disgust from Rarity.)
Twilight: Hmmm…
Rainbow: (uneasily) Uh… (Pinkie chooses this moment to return to the group.)
Pinkie: Ooooh! (She brings up her own phone.) Party picture!
(Close-up of the screen, displaying a lounge tent liberally bedecked with decorations and treats for the festival-goers to enjoy. A party cannon is parked in front of the lot.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) This one is awesome! (Back to the seven.)
Fluttershy: That cake looks delicious!
Applejack: I’ll say. What’s this filter called, Pinkie Pie?
Pinkie: (puzzled, lowering phone) What filter?
(With the high-tech hardware out of their line of vision, all can now see that her camera has delivered an accurate representation of the area—right down to the cannon. Pinkie whisks over, points it skyward, and pulls a rope attached to the breech to set off a mighty blast of confetti and streamers. The other Rainbooms approach laughing as the view fades to black.)
“How to Backstage” Written by Katie Chilson; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a long overhead shot of Sunset on a covered outdoor stage and zoom in slowly. She is alone except for a security guard, and a couch stands near the entrance to the backstage area on one side. She is wearing the same outfit as in “Festival Filters,” establishing that both this short and that one are occurring at roughly the same time and place, and she kneels over a drone to make a few adjustments. Once done, she stands up and the device rises toward her eye level; cut to its camera-eye perspective of her, which frames the badge hanging on a lanyard around her neck. She waits to speak until the autofocus has kicked in.)
Sunset: (waving) Hey, everybody! Sunset Shimmer here, your MVP with the BTS look at the VIP life. Translation? (holding up badge) I got a backstage pass!
(“BTS” = “behind the scenes.” The drone follows her past staff members as she approaches a lounge area well back from the hubbub.)
Sunset: Need a break?
(Zoom in quickly on some of the hanging light fixtures, then out to frame the entire space as she walks in. Tables and chairs, a few of them occupied with people taking a break; U-shaped counter set with snacks, drink dispensers, giveaway items, and decorative plants. Sunset grins to the camera before it shifts to highlight the bags and boxes; she pops up in the fore.)
Sunset: First perk of the VIP treatment? Swag, swag, swag, swag, swag! (Slow pan across the items; she continues o.s.) I’m talking foreign chocolate, instant cameras, noise-canceling headphones…
(She reaches into view and takes a bag on this last; cut to her reaching inside, eagerness slowly giving way to befuddlement.)
Sunset: (pulling out a pair of socks) …or…socks. (Drop the bag; drum up enthusiasm.) Rock on! They must be to keep bands from getting cold feet. (Lame chuckle.) I guess I’ll just, uh…put them on!
(Another chuckle precedes her lurching, off-balance attempt to do so while standing up.)
Sunset: VIP coming through!
(And then she says hello to the floor. Cut to her walking through a different passage and toward a doorway, still seen through the drone’s camera.)
Sunset: Check it out! The world-famous green room where all the bands hang out before the show! Any guesses on who we’ll see?
(The view shifts away from the drone’s view to within the entrance as she steps in—now wearing the socks she swiped and no boots/shoes—and it hovers behind her to capture the moment. A few bits of gear are laid out here and there, along with a couch off to one side, and a road crew member is keeping an eye on the proceedings. Sunset stops short, mouth falling open in shock; cut to her perspective, panning slowly across the area. More roadies are attending to instruments and lighting setup.)
Sunset: Are you kidding me? (Back to her.) This…is…amazing!
(Camera-eye perspective; she steps into view as one fellow adjusts a microphone.)
Sunset: You’re looking at the guy who invented pickup-only reverb! (He gives her a thumbs-up; now she steps toward a lighting technician on a ladder.) Ever wonder who does Post Crush’s light show? (Focus shifts to this one.) She runs a four-gel hot swap!
(The focus returns to Sunset in time for an excited scream.)
Sunset: This is the best day of my life! (The tech again.)
Lighting tech: Did you want to meet the band?
(The yellow-orange teen turns wonderingly away from the ladder. Cut to a close-up of the bottom of a flight of steps, not seen through the drone’s camera, as three pairs of legs descend. A zoom out frames one man and two women looking on with cocked-eyebrow smiles—the band has just entered the building. One of the women, a blonde, speaks up with an unusually deep voice.)
Blonde: Cool socks.
(Sunset laughs as the lighting tech climbs down and the drone circles around the group.)
Sunset: Thanks. (slightly embarrassed, holding up her cell phone) Can I get a picture?
(All three members strike poses, but are not quite prepared for her to hand the phone to the male member and back up. They laugh, and she lets out a giddy little squeal while clustering in with the roadies—four in all—and the drone. A shutter click and flash, and the camera zooms out slowly from the resulting photo, rotating slightly at the same time.)
Sunset: (voice over) And that’s how you backstage.
(Fade to black.)
“Festival Looks” Written by Katie Chilson; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a close-up of a computer monitor. The mouse cursor clicks on an icon at the left edge, bringing up a contact list headed by a picture of Rarity. A click on her entry within the list, and it is replaced by a window and sound effects to indicate that a video call is being placed. Zoom in until the window fills the screen; after a couple of rings, it gives way to a shot of the fashion-conscious teen sitting at a keyboard in her bedroom. She is wearing the outfit she sported in “Festival Filters”; the same will be true of the other Rainbooms when they appear next. However, she has removed her furry blue bolero jacket and set it on a headless mannequin, exposing the sleeveless design of her dress. A few control icons line the bottom edge of the screen.)
Rarity: Some say the best part of a music festival is the music. But to me…
(She puts hands to mouth as if trying to hold in a giddy outburst, but soon gives up the effort and rises to plant one foot on her chair and spin where she stands. The jacket is whisked away and pulled on in the same motion.)
Rarity: …it’s fashion!
(The image shrinks into the top left corner of the screen, replaced by one of Applejack leaning back against a fence on the grounds of Sweet Apple Acres. A passing pig eyes her curiously as Rarity gets herself under control and sits down. It is daytime here.)
Applejack: An old pair of cowboy boots’ll keep you from steppin’ in a steamin’ pile of… (Rarity cringes.) …uh…fashion emergency.
(A grunt from the porker, and her window shrinks into an apple icon at bottom right. Now Fluttershy is seen in her bedroom, touching up a garland of leaves and flowers in her hair that has replaced the blue-violet blossoms she wore in “Festival Filters.”)
Fluttershy: If you’ve got hang-ups with hangers— (setting a bird’s nest filled with eggs on her head) —look for style right outside your window.
(The eggs hatch and the emerging baby birds start cheeping.)
Rarity: (tinny, as if heard through a computer speaker) Oh, I believe they’re famished for fashion.
Fluttershy: (crestfallen) Well, actually, they do want me to regurgitate worms into their beaks.
(Rarity, horrified, hammers at the keys until her window fills the screen again and Fluttershy’s end of the call is minimized as a butterfly icon above Applejack’s.)
Rarity: (hastily) Innovative. Who’s next?
(Shrink into top left; Rainbow appears on the Canterlot High soccer field, bouncing a ball from one knee to the other. This shot picks out the placement of the stone from her pendant in a wristband, which had been hidden by the camera angles in “Festival Filters.”)
Rainbow: Make sure you can move, whether you’re dancing at the festival or after a hat trick.
(A backwards-flipping kick sends the black-and-white spheroid into the goal behind her, and she springs upright almost as soon as it has landed.)
Rarity: (tinny) TOUCHDOWN!!
Rainbow: Uh, that’s not what it’s ca—
(A tap by Rarity minimizes the jock’s end into a cloud/lightning-bolt icon above Fluttershy’s. Up next is Sunset, sitting on her couch at home and wearing a pair of headphones in addition to her festival threads.)
Sunset: Can’t go wrong with a classic.
(Shrink to a sun icon at bottom left; Pinkie gets a turn now, leaning toward the camera and adjusting it in extreme close-up.)
Pinkie: Classic? You mean like…
(She backs away, showing her own bedroom—with a party cannon sitting in the middle of the floor. A hard yank on the rope extending from the breech tilts its barrel up toward the ceiling.)
Pinkie: …confetti?!? (Fire off a blast, surprising Rarity; stand up to full height.) Confetti everywhere! (Contented sigh.) Classic Pinkie Pie.
(Her purple-haired friend lets out an alarmed squeak as the paper bits unexpectedly rain down on her end, leaving her with a badly disheveled coiffure that she has to pat back into place.)
Pinkie: Oops! Sorry!
(Now her end drops back to a three-balloon icon above Sunset’s, yielding to a shot of Twilight standing in a lab.)
Twilight: You know what’s always in style? (opening her belt pouch) Personal responsibility. (pulling out items as she names them) Earplugs for high-decibel situation, a water bottle, flashlight and compass in case you get lost, the other kind of compass in case you need to draw—
(“The other kind” being the sort used in drafting and navigation to draw circles and arcs. Rarity’s growing puzzlement leads her to cut the brainiac off with a keystroke, and her own window expands to fill the screen as Twilight is reduced to a star-cluster icon above Pinkie.)
Rarity: Aaaand there you have it, my loves. At the end of the day, it’s always in fashion to be utterly yourselves.
(All six icons suddenly expand into small windows to tile both sides of the screen. The main window contracts slightly and every girl waves to the camera.)
Rarity: (tinny) See you at the festival!
(The mouse cursor clicks on the X at the top right corner to close the window, and a tap on an icon at the bottom left corner shuts off the monitor and blacks out the screen.)
“Five Lines You Need to Stand In”
Written by Katie Chilson; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an overhead shot of a paved lot set up as an entrance checkpoint for the music festival described or referred to in the previous four shorts. It is daytime. There are three gates, each staffed by a security guard, and quite a few ticket-holders have queued up at each one. Pinkie stands apart from them, wearing her brightly colored festival outfit from the previous shorts, and fiddles with something as the camera roves over the scene. A close-up picks out the item as the drone Sunset used in “How to Backstage,” and after one last switch flip, it hovers out of her hands and rotates to aim its lens at her. Cut to its camera-eye perspective as she backs away from it.)
Pinkie: Hello, computer net friends! Pinkie Pie here, bringing you the list you’ve all been waiting for.
(On the next line, she proceeds to pop up all over the place: at a line, hanging upside down from a ticket booth, in front of the overarching sign, one foot propped on a picnic table near the well-appointed motor home Rarity showed off in “Camping Must Haves.”)
Pinkie: Because anybody who’s anybody knows that music festivals aren’t about the music or the scene, or even the camping—
(The camera cuts closer to her by steps as she continues, ending with an extreme close-up of the grinning pink face.)
Pinkie: —which is why we’re counting down the five lines you need to stand in!
(Zoom out quickly; she is now standing on the table, and bystanders are looking at her askance.)
Pinkie: Oh, yeah!
(She inserts herself into one of the lines waiting at the gates.)
Pinkie: First up, the security line.
(At its head, the female guard on duty is sifting through the contents of attendees’ bags.)
Pinkie: If we play this right, we might just make a new friend. (Grin; she is next up.)
Guard: Bag, please.
(In a trice, Pinkie has moved up to the inspection station and passed over her ridiculously tiny belt pouch. It is so small, in fact, that the guard can barely fit one set of fingers inside.)
Pinkie: You can show off all the cool stuff in your purse!
(The impassive adult’s eyes widen in surprise as she pulls out a handful of strings that are in turn tied to an impossibly large bunch of helium balloons.)
Guard: How in the—?
Pinkie: I know, right?
(She grins for the camera. Cut to an extreme close-up of her.)
Pinkie: The only thing that tastes better than nachos…
(The camera pivots quickly away from her and slows down to pan across a row of food trucks and the hungry music lovers waiting to patronize them.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) …is nachos you waited two hours to get! (She leans into view in front of one line.) Besides, how else would I ever decide what I want on them?
(One customer receives a loaded tray and clears off, only for Pinkie to zip up to the counter so abruptly that the vendor ends up squirting cheese sauce all over herself. This shot reveals that Pinkie has stuck the pouch back on her belt.)
Pinkie: Which is everything!
(The vendor shoots her a dirty look. Cut to an extreme close-up of an order of nachos brimming with cheese and a range of most unorthodox toppings—including watermelon, broccoli, and a chocolate chip cookie. It is pulled back from the camera in Pinkie’s hands and lowered to frame her eager grin.)
Pinkie: (shuddering blissfully, grabbing a handful) Delicious!
(Down the hatch they go, leaving cheesy smears across her face. From here, cut to her standing next to a different line; she is fully cleaned up, and the nachos are gone.)
Pinkie: (gesturing to it, moving aside) Up next, the photo booth line!
(The step discloses just such a booth behind her.)
Pinkie: (dragging a teen close, aiming her phone at herself) Let’s practice a pose!
(Cut to her phone camera’s perspective of the pair—one smiling broadly, the other too stunned to speak, no points for guessing which is which. The latter manages a grin and flashes a peace sign.)
Pinkie: Say cheese! (Click; she holds up a handful of nachos.) Say, cheese?
(The other teen’s face goes green at the profusion of flipped-out toppings, and she claps both hands to her bulging cheeks and ducks away with remarkable speed and agility. Cut to the drone’s camera-eye perspective; Pinkie stares confusedly as she crawls away in search of a quiet place to vomit.)
Pinkie: (shrugging) Eh, your loss.
(She wastes no time in chomping down the snack, again besmirching her cheery visage. Cut to a couple of students standing in yet another line; she leans into view behind them, face/hands clean and phone stashed.)
Pinkie: Why not take a chance on a mystery line? It could lead to the coolest place you’ve ever seen! (The boy ahead gives her an odd look; she addresses him.) Do you know where this line goes?
(He offers nothing beyond a bewildered shrug and grunt as the line begins to move.)
Pinkie: Ah! Me neither! But if it’s this long, it’s gotta be good, right?
(A zoom out answers the question she put to the boy—and that answer is “nowhere,” as the line is actually a circle around a broad tree trunk. She giggles; cut to a close-up of her on the move.)
Pinkie: Last but certainly not least is the bathroom line.
(Longer shot of it as she finishes. She has just joined its end, and all are waiting at a row of portable toilets and jittering in place under the strain of overfull bladders.)
Pinkie: Or as I like to call it… (grabbing the shoulders of the girl ahead of her) …the conga line! (shaking in rhythm) Ah-ch-ch-cha, everybody!
(This girl—who happens to be Fleur—finds her arms being raised so she can put her hands on the shoulders of the next one up. Pinkie’s good mood quickly spreads all the way up the line, turning it into a smiling, laughing, dancing procession.)
Pinkie: This is the best line ever!
(They stop at the nearest stall, which opens to disgorge a very relieved girl an instant before the frizzy-haired dynamo whips up to toss a handful of confetti.)
Pinkie: Congratulations! You made it!
(She throws a double thumbs-up, paying no mind to the attendee’s justifiably bewildered reaction. “Iris out” to black, the aperture centered on the pink face and pausing briefly before it closes altogether.)
“Find the Magic”
Written by Whitney Ralls; story editing by Nick Confalone
Music/Lyrics by Jessica Vaughn, Jess Furman, Jarl Aanestad
Quiet synthesizer chords, moderate 4; lyrics echo slightly (C major)
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a close-up of two of the spotlights hung above the closed curtain of a stage at the music festival. The detailing above them indicates that this stage is different from the one that figured in “How to Backstage.” The spots flick on one at a time, their pale blue and violet beams crossing in midair as the camera tilts down slowly to a thick bank of sparkly greenish fog at stage level. Adagio Dazzle sits among the haze in profile, leaning back in her chair so that her mass of curly hair cascades down its back. As she raises the hand farther from the camera to her forehead, two more arms swing up on that same side--gray-violet for Aria Blaze, pale blue for Sonata Dusk. The three Dazzlings, all sporting festival-themed outfits that are markedly different from the ones they wore in Rainbow Rocks, begin to sing as they face front and the other two step out to either side of Adagio. The mist obscures most of the details of their new clothing.)
Dazzlings: Where do we go? Every day’s the same
(Longer shot: they have drawn a fair crowd, seen only as immobile silhouettes.)
Did we lose the magic, magic, magic?
(Adagio jumps down from the stage and faces the onlookers, now visible as dim, faceless figures under a starry night sky.)
So ordinary, stuck on repeat
(All three move self-consciously through the audience.)
Gotta find the passion, passion, passion
(The following particulars become visible during this verse. Adagio: knee-high boots in purple and dark gray, with stacked heels and marked by spikes up the back and the yellow gem she used to wear on her belt and the hem of her shorts; dark gray leather jacket with spikes on arms; dark-collared violet shirt set with a pattern of darker triangles and split in front to show off purple shorts; gold crescent-moon necklace and matching belt buckle; one gold bracelet and one studded leather band on each wrist. Aria, seen from the waist up, short jacket of yellow-green fur over a long-sleeved top in deep pink with white polka dots; purple kerchief at the throat. Sonata, also from the waist up: sparkly, short-sleeved dress in shades of magenta and displaying a large taco on the chest; left arm covered by a long, deep magenta sleeve with lighter stripes, two gold bands encircling the right upper arm. None of them are wearing any trace of the red-gem pendants through which they channeled their power in Rainbow Rocks.)
Closed hi-hat cymbal on every second beat; soft synth melody in
(They stand in a star/moon-decorated archway set in a broad wall of hedges. A nimbus of pinkish light surrounding them and illuminating a double row of colored lanterns set on the ground as filaments flick on, sketching out trees and paths. Tacos can now be seen on the sides of Sonata’s skirt, and she wears magenta/pink-striped socks and sneakers in varied shades of pink. Aria wears close-fitting pants in deep purple with lighter green patches running down each leg and lighter purple, chunky-soled boots with fur running down the backs to match her jacket.)
Dazzlings: The days go ’round and ’round, ’round and ’round
Gotta break away, find a great escape
(They move in a loop, following each other out of one archway and in through a second.)
’Round and ’round and ’round, ’round and ’round and ’round
(Stop; Adagio at one portal, Aria and Sonata at the other.)
Oh-h
Cymbal roll; bass synth in; vocal harmonies behind lyrics
(Fade to black, then snap to a close-up of Adagio rising from the green fog on the stage as the multicolored spots pop on overhead. The others join her here, but the crowd remains impassive even as they raise their arms.)
Dazzlings: Let’s find, let’s find
Let’s find the magic
(More lights blaze up from the archways; Aria and Sonata emerge smiling, and all three lie down facing upward with heads near one another. Zoom out slowly overhead.)
Let’s find, let’s find
Let’s find the magic
Bass/melody synths out, vocal harmonies out
(Dissolve to a close-up of a tea leaf floating in a full cup held by Adagio. She sits on a couch in the lounge tent seen in “Festival Filters.”)
Adagio: Can I find the beauty in the simple things?
(She pulls out her pendant; to her great surprise, its gem is no longer shattered, but whole and glowing warmly. The others marvel at giant flowers traced in light.)
Dazzlings: Can I learn to see it, see it, see it?
Synth melody in
(Extreme close-up of the jewel, now fractured and missing a sizable chunk as it reflects multiples of Adagio’s uncomprehending face. It is whole again in the next shot, and she cradles it blissfully to her cheek.)
The days go ’round and ’round, ’round and ’round
Gotta break away, find a great escape
’Round and ’round and ’round, ’round and ’round and ’round
(The pendant is clasped to its owner’s chest.)
Oh-h
Cymbal roll; bass synth in; vocal harmonies behind lyrics
Background lyrics sung by Adagio
(Fade to white, then snap to a slow tilt down toward ground level as the Dazzlings walk slowly toward the stage, now clear of fog. Each has a repaired, glowing pendant laid across one palm, and waves of light in their signature colors ripple across the grass from every footfall. They touch spectators as they move, restoring full color.)
Dazzlings: Let’s find, let’s find
Let’s find the magic
(Three pairs of feet climb the steps to the stage.)
[Let’s find the magic] Let’s find [Hey] Let’s find
(The crowd comes to cheering life as they stand in the spotlight beams.)
Let’s find the magic
Cymbal roll; bass/melody synths and hi-hat out; vocal harmonies only
(All three girls smile gently down at their pendants. Zoom in slowly on Adagio, the other two and the background fading nearly to black around/behind her The glow from her gem slowly dies away.)
Song ends
(As the final chord subsides, the screen goes entirely black except for the gleaming scarlet stone. This explodes into a miniature starburst, which slowly fades away.)
MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS—SUNSET’S BACKSTAGE PASS
Written by Whitney Ralls
Produced by Angela Belyea
Story editing by Nick Confalone
Directed by Ishi Rudell, Katrina Hadley
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Note: This transcript is based on the original airing of this special on Discovery Family,
which ran 44 minutes. It was later released in six segments on YouTube, each
with its own title card; one is shown at the beginning of the Discovery Family
airing as well.
This special premiered while Volume Three of the Digital Series was in
progress. Refer to the transcripts of “Festival Filters” through “Five Lines You
Need to Stand In” for details on the girls’ outfits.
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a long overhead shot of a broad forest meadow set up for an outdoor festival. Performance stages, tented stalls for a range of activities, a cluster of motor homes parked to serve as overnight accommodations for their owners, and so on. A stream threads out from the trees and along one side of the grassy expanse. Night has fallen. Tilt down slowly from the plethora of preparations to frame the paved lot and entrance gates seen in “Five Lines You Need to Stand In”—this is the site of the music festival seen/described in that short and its kin. Rarity’s motor home—see “Camping Must Haves”— rumbles along the street that runs past the area, then turns onto a side road whose signs mark it as the path for campers to follow.)
(Cut to a slow pan through a campground, in which attendees are hauling/setting up gear and amusing themselves in a number of ways. The camera stops on Sunset Shimmer as she steps into view.)
Sunset: Starswirled Music Festival, we have arrived!
(The vehicle has now parked, and the other six plus Spike are out; Applejack sets a cooler on the ground as Fluttershy pets the pooch. Rainbow Dash has a gym bag slung up.)
Applejack: Two days and nights of cool music, hot food, and sleepin’ under the stars! (Pinkie Pie jumps excitedly over to Sunset.)
Sunset: To Pinkie and me, this festival’s about one thing only.
Pinkie, Sunset: POST CRUSH!
Applejack: (chuckling) We know. Y’all won’t stop talkin’ about ’em.
Pinkie: (rapid fire) Who, Post Crush? That’s only because Post Crush is the craziest, most amazing-est pop duo ever! Post Crush, Post Crush, Post Crush!
(Recall that the band was briefly mentioned in the “How to Backstage” short. Pinkie relents upon getting an eyeful of the blonde’s smirk.)
Pinkie: Oh. I see your point.
Sunset: After they canceled their last tour to go on indefinite hiatus— (Finger quotation marks on these last two words.) —we thought we’d never see them live.
Pinkie: (singsong) But we thought wro-o-ong! Roll call!
(Cut to a background of pink hearts streaming against streaks of pink and yellow; Sunset drifts into view, crossing her arms.)
Sunset: Kiwi Lollipop— (A speech bubble containing Pinkie’s face appears.)
Pinkie: —a.k.a. K-Lo— (Gone again.)
Sunset: —is the cool one.
(The streaks shift to blue and white, Sunset vanishing so her opposite number can drift into view, adopting a pose with one arm extended and the other hanging at her side.)
Pinkie: While Supernova Zap— (A bubble pops in, housing Sunset’s face.)
Sunset: —a.k.a. Su-Z— (Disappear.)
Pinkie: —is the zany one!
(She lets her eyes counter-rotate to make the point; now both girls float into view against a rotating pink/yellow/blue sunburst and lean back to support their weight on one another’s shoulders while holding their respective poses. During the next line, the backdrop dissolves to the campground.)
Pinkie: (slyly) Not unlike another certain dynamic duo I know.
(The others giggle over the pair’s display of unbridled enthusiasm.)
Applejack: All right, less laughin’ and more gaffin’.
(She bends to pick up the cooler; cut to Pinkie and Sunset, who grin as a pink arm drapes itself across the leather-jacketed shoulders.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) We got an early mornin’ tomorrow.
(These two head in, accompanied by Pinkie’s bubbly giggle, as the camera tilts up into the sky and stops on the crescent moon among the stars. A dissolve turns it into the sun and changes night into day, and a cut to the interior of the motor home frames Sunset sleeping soundly in a sleeping bag on a bunk that stretches the length of one window. Hearty snores reverberate through the space, which is bereft of any other living being; sleeping bags and pillows for Twilight, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rainbow are laid out on the floor, and those for Applejack and Rarity are set up on bunks at a different wall. Sunset shifts not a particle as the camera zooms in slowly. Cut to a close-up of her cell phone lying on her pillow, its screen dark at first but lighting up with a photo of two brightly outfitted teenage girls standing and posing as Pinkie and Sunset did during their “roll call” the previous night. The phone begins to vibrate and play a clip of peppy music as an alarm, jolting Sunset awake.)
Sunset: Huh?
(Shutting it off, she sits up in bed with a giddy laugh and picks it up. Jump to the floor and dart o.s., throwing back into view the pajamas she had been wearing, and in no time flat she is fully dressed and heading out the door with phone back in pocket. Cut to the area immediately outside the motor home; Rarity, sitting at a picnic table, tweaks a glittery, gem-studded, purple peaked cap on Spike’s head before he jumps down to the grass. Twilight, Applejack, and Fluttershy are enjoying breakfast as they sit on a circle of stumps, and the bespectacled girl giggles softly as Sunset circles around to them.)
Rainbow: (running into view) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it!
(She is carrying a wooden paddle painted with the Rainbooms’ logo on the end of a long pole—the sort of thing one might hold up during a live show. As she finishes, she swings it around herself with reckless gusto, scoring a glancing blow on the red/gold-haired girl’s rump.)
Sunset: (screwing up one eye, rubbing spot) Hey!
Rainbow: Oh! Uh, sorry. (walking off) I’ll be more careful from now on.
Sunset: Ah, not gonna let a little thing like intense pain ruin this perfect day!
Applejack: (to Fluttershy) So I says to Big Mac, “Get your own chicken coop!”
(A surprised mouthful of orange juice is spat all over her by the animal lover as Sunset crosses to them and Twilight.)
Applejack: Hey!
Fluttershy: (giggling) Sorry! That one has animals in it. (Pinkie whips into view and over to Applejack.)
Pinkie: What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes?
(Hold up three fingers on the end of this, with thumb and forefinger joined to form an A-OK sign, then hop over to Sunset.)
Pinkie: Pinkie Pie! (She hustles her fellow fan away.)
Fluttershy: (to Twilight/Applejack) Um, I don’t get it.
(Applejack just shoots a mildly exasperated squint in her direction. Dissolve to the Rainbooms and Spike merrily walking/bounding/chatting their way along a forest path marked to lead them toward the main event. Applejack has cleaned herself up now, and Rainbow is still carrying her Rainbooms sign. One of Sunset’s hiking-booted feet comes down squarely in a mud puddle, throwing her off balance so that she has to grab at Twilight to keep from measuring her height on the turf.)
Sunset: Whoa!
Twilight: Whoa! Are you okay?
Sunset: (holding up dirty foot) Just a little mud. Heh.
(She hangs back as Twilight continues on, but Pinkie leans into view before she can even get another step along.)
Pinkie: Sunset, Sunset! Look! (She whisks Sunset away in a blur of crimson and yellow.)
Sunset: Whoa!
(Cut to the three admission lines in the paved lot outside the gate.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) So many lines to stand in! (Cut to her and Sunset.) This day’s already amazing! Let’s go!
(The dimension-hopper finds herself being dragged by the wrist into the center queue, and Pinkie lounges against the barricade dividing it from the next one over. The mud on Sunset’s boot is now gone.)
Pinkie: (casually, to the girl in front of her) You come to this line often? Any other sweet lines we should hit up?
Rainbow: (waving to them from another line) Heeey!
(Twilight and Fluttershy, with her, add waves of their own, and Twilight chips in a giggle that prompts a good-natured eye roll from Sunset. However, the latter’s mood shifts to one of mild impatience as she trains her gaze to her right; the line containing the other three begins to advance at a decent clip.)
Sunset: Hmmm. That line’s moving fast.
(Vexation grows at the sight of the bunch to her left—which includes Applejack and a waving Rarity—stepping ahead at speed. Throughout all of this, the center line has not moved a lick.)
Sunset: Hmmm. They are too.
(After several frustrated seconds of watching the other two lines roll on, she cups hands to mouth and calls toward the gate.)
Sunset: CAN’T THIS THING MOVE ANY FASTER?
(On the end of this, zoom out quickly to frame an older male security guard behind a table at the gates, checking a boy’s backpack. He leans out to address her in close-up: pale blue-gray skin, dark gray mustache and buzz-cut hair, sunglasses.)
Guard: Security is an art. It cannot be rushed.
(His inspection complete, he hands the bag over, lets the teen enter, and waves the next attendee up to the table. Zoom out quickly to frame Sunset, who voices a weary groan as Pinkie strikes a pose in readiness to take a picture of herself with her phone.)
Pinkie: Aw, cheer up. (She throws her arm around Sunset’s shoulders and aims the phone at them.) Lines fly when you’re having fun.
(A wink, and she clicks the shutter to capture both their smiling faces. Dissolve to a close-up of a bag being handed over, opened and checked; the guard’s features scrunch ever so slightly, but the possessor gets a band around a wrist and is cleared to enter on the man’s phone. Another bag is submitted, another patron approved, and in short order Pinkie is thumbed through the checkpoint.)
Pinkie: (winking to Sunset, aiming index-finger guns) See you in there, Sunset!
(She sprints through the gate, and her fellow traveler is issued a wristband and approved after a brief, tense delay. Yellow-orange cheeks split into a huge smile as she hurries in after Pinkie and catches up to the other Rainbooms; Spike is not with them, and Rainbow is waving her sign. Sunset uncorks an exhalation of loud relief as Pinkie bounces in place.)
Applejack: Welp, y’all have fun seein’ Post Crush. We’ll see you back at camp tonight.
(Pinkie and Sunset wave goodbye as the other five head off, followed by the latter whipping a map out of a pants pocket.)
Sunset: (nudging Pinkie) Main objective—get front row for Post Crush. (Unfold.) Mission procedure—
(Close-up of the map, her finger tracing from area to area as she names them.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) —if we cut around the Neon Garden to the main stage and rush the front during Ponnyvare’s set— (Back to her and Pinkie.) —we can camp there until showtime. (Pinkie glances away, her attention caught and held.)
Pinkie: Secondary objective—win a tandem bicycle!
(She is gone in a pink/magenta blur before Sunset can even think about voicing a response, and is soon running up to a stand at which this very item is on display. On the counter next to the attendant is a jar filled with jellybeans, also depicted on the signs that flank the tableau. She leans in to scrutinize the container in close-up.)
Pinkie: All I have to do is guess how many candies are in the jar. And my sugar senses say… (Zoom out quickly to frame the attendant.) …three hundred and five!
(The smirking worker hits a button to set off a buzzer—wrong answer—and Pinkie utters a crushed groan and stands as Sunset catches up, having stashed her map.)
Sunset: What about seeing Post Crush together?
Pinkie: Uh, this bike has two seats, Sunset. That’s one more than usual! (Long pause under Sunset’s disapproving glare.) Fine. I’ll focus.
(That attitude lasts for the split second it takes her spot something else interesting o.s.)
Pinkie: Oh, look! The Neon Garden!
(She peels out, leaving Sunset to slump on her feet and moan in helpless exasperation. Cut to an arched entrance cut into a neon-lit wall of hedges.)
Pinkie: (running toward this) Whee!
(She trails off into blissful giggles as she enters, the camera cutting to within a passage cut through the greenery and lined with the same type of lights. Sunset slides to a stop at the entrance and charges in after her. A merry chase ensues, ranging through a network of passages whose walls, floors, and ceilings are liberally bedecked with glowing strings, dots, and floral figures. Sunset is eventually forced to stop and catch her breath.)
Sunset: The Neon Garden is a maze?
(Zoom out quickly to a long overhead shot of the area on the end of this, proving her right. The immense hedgerows divide the area into four major chambers, with tunnels bored through them and into two corners at the perimeter. One chamber is further split into two by walls. Cut back to Sunset, who stops within one passage to do a little pondering and moves on, not seeing a laughing Pinkie peek out from a connecting branch and duck away again. The searcher steps back toward the source of the sound but can find no trace of her friend; she steps o.s. again and ends up missing her target’s giggly dangle into/out of view from above. Next Sunset steps in from a side run farther back and stops with an irked groan.)
Sunset: Where is Pinkie Pie?!
(Close-up of her feet backing slowly up along one route as wrapped candies fall to form a trail, then cut to her. She has procured a bag of the sweets and is working her way through the maze, while Pinkie scuttles along to pick them up and stow them in her hair. Cut to just outside one entrance, Sunset drops one more piece, then plants the whole bag and ducks away to keep watch from behind a corner. Here comes the girl with the insatiable sweet tooth, scooping up the last of the loose candies; before she can snatch the bag, though, Sunset pops out and seizes one wrist.)
Sunset: Come on! (dragging her away) We’re gonna miss the show!
Pinkie: Aww…
(They pass a young man with curly red hair, a flower tucked above one ear, and a water balloon in each hand; an easel stands at a short distance, near the trees. He gives an exuberant cry, speaking with a German accent, and his words mark him as an artist.)
Artist: Who wants to be part of an art show?
(In close-up, Pinkie stops with a happy gasp and drags Sunset back toward both this easel and a second one that has been set up next to it.)
Pinkie: Ooh, ooh, ooh! I do! I do!
(Here comes the wind-up, then the pitch—and one girl recoils in horror and throws up both arms to cover her head as the other beams from ear to ear. No points for guessing which is which. The balloons burst against the blank canvases, splattering Pinkie with pink paint and Sunset with blue. The former raises her arms in triumph, while the latter looks ready to administer a thorough beating to the first target she can lay hands on.)
(Cut to an extreme close-up of a paper towel dispenser as Sunset jerks a sheet away, then to her standing at a bathroom mirror and gloomily wiping herself clean. Pinkie’s laughter rings out from one of the closed stalls, and she opens its door just enough to peek out as Sunset pivots to face her.)
Pinkie: Guess what! I spilled paint, and it looks exactly like Rarity with a pirate mustache!
(She opens the door fully on the end of this, revealing on its inner surface a decent likeness of the fashionista—accented by a thick, curling crop of hair on the upper lip. The “artist” adds a chirpy giggle, having fully cleaned up except for her fingertips, but gets a long, searching stare from her now-clean audience of one.)
Pinkie: What? It’s washable.
(Cut to an extreme close-up of two wrists, Pinkie’s right and Sunset’s left, being tied together with a piece of curd by Sunset. Zoom out to frame them both, the pink fingers now scrubbed free of paint.)
Sunset: There! Now, no more getting separated— (leading her away) —and no more distractions!
Pinkie: (saluting with free hand) You got it, Suns— (yanked along) —whoa!
(Cut to a long shot of the main stage, seen from the back of a sizable crowd, and tilt down slowly. Night has fallen.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) They’re about to go on! (She drags Pinkie into view.) We’ll have to push to the front row! Come on!
(The party lover stops dead to inhale a lungful of the aroma drifting up from a nearby snack cart and gasp in delight. Pan slightly to put her o.s. and focus on the proprietor—Puffed Pastry, the French chef she antagonized in “Spring Breakdown.” Zoom in quickly to a softly focused close-up of the snack being handed over.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Puffed Pastry’s exclusive star-crusted, cinnamon-dipped churros!
(The “stars” are tiny, sparkling sugar crystals. After one churro is lovingly snapped in half, the view returns to the two girls, seen in normal focus; Pinkie has fallen into a drooling trance, but snaps out of it with renewed determination.)
Pinkie: No! I will not give in!
(She squeezes her eyes shut against the temptation, but resolve crumbles into an ecstatic squeal as soon as she cracks one lid open.)
Pinkie: (dragging Sunset toward cart) I can’t resist!
Sunset: (trying/failing to reel her in) This is the worst possible time for churros, Pinkie!
(Cut to the cart on the end of this. Pinkie snaps to a stop at the counter, but inertia carries a yelling Sunset ahead to crash into her; their combined impact bashes the cart out of view but leaves both Puffed and the customer she was about to serve completely untouched. The dust clears to expose the two girls lying badly dazed amid a scramble of smashed cooking equipment and spilled ingredients, the cord having fallen away from their wrists. A broad shadow falls over the wreckage, and the camera tilts up toward its source as Pinkie, the only one with a free eye at the moment, gets her wits about her and turns to see. The guard from the front gate has arrived and is not a bit happy about either the wipeout or the sugary aftermath that now covers his entire head and most of his shirt. Pinkie manages a chagrined laugh, while Sunset grimaces in mute horror at the thought of what he might do to them.)
Pinkie: Our bad.
(The other half of the wrecking crew shoots her a silent snarl. Cut to a closed door, which is thrown open from the other side by the now-clean guard to frame all three. Sunset’s wristband is cut off with a pair of scissors in extreme close-up, and a cut back to him shows that he has done the same to Pinkie’s band. Both are dropped to the grass, Sunset trying futilely to snatch them out of the air, and the big man pulls the door shut behind himself to shut them out of the event. Blue-green eyes fire off a venomous, sidewise glare at the blue ones that turn guiltily away, but the silent recrimination is cut off by the glare of multicolored lights spilling over them from within the wall. A female announcer’s voice comes in over a loudspeaker, underscored by chants by an energetic crowd, and spotlight beams flick through the sky.)
Announcer: Let me hear three big cheers for two best friends who got back together for one incredible night—POOOST CRUUUSH!!
(Both girls withdraw into their respective private anguishes, Pinkie reaching tentatively toward Sunset’s shoulder but stopping short. Dissolve to the other five girls sitting around the flattop grill table included in Rarity’s motor home, as seen in “Camping Must Haves,” and zoom in slowly. They are roasting marshmallows on skewers above the heated surface and talking/laughing animatedly, and Rainbow removes and eats a nicely browned treat as Pinkie and Sunset trudge up to the gathering. The athlete is no longer carrying her Rainbooms sign.)
Rainbow: There they are! Two peas in a pod. How was it? Rad-tacular? Amaze-magic?
(Sunset responds with a fed-up groan, pointedly refusing to make eye contact with Pinkie.)
Applejack: Uh, what’s wrong?
Sunset: (dejectedly/bitterly) We missed Post Crush. Someone wanted to win a bike, then got us lost in the maze, covered in paint, sidelined by churros, and finally kicked out!
Twilight, Applejack: (uneasily) Uhhh…
Pinkie: (touching Sunset’s shoulder) I’m really sorry. I wish we could do the day all over again. I’d do it different. (Sunset scowls and throws the hand off.)
Sunset: Me too. (to herself, stalking off) I’d do it alone.
(Dissolve to a hilltop that overlooks the stage and activity areas at a considerable distance. Having climbed up here, the ejected fan sits down into a miserable huddle as cheers and spotlights drift through the night. She moans sadly in close-up, letting her head flop forward onto her knees while traces of tears gather in her eyes; seconds later, a beam of brilliant pink light lances upward through the trees, yielding to a shock wave that spreads through the forest and washes over Sunset. By the time she looks up, the energy has faded and the last eddies of wind from its passage are dying away. Bewildered and despondent, she looks from one side to the other as the camera tilts up to the moon and stars.)
(Dissolve to the interior of the motor home, once again devoid of life except for a zonked-out, snoring Sunset in her sleeping bag on the window bunk. In close-up, her phone’s alarm goes off as it did before.)
Sunset: (from o.s., drowsily) Huh?
(She shuts it off and regards the thing with two bleary eyes before sitting up with a deflated moan. The pajama-clad teen shows none of her previous vigor this time around, instead leaving her bunk and plodding across the space. Cut to the area outside the vehicle, Twilight/Applejack/Fluttershy/Rarity/Spike disposed as they were on the previous morning, and Twilight giggles as a fully dressed Sunset circles to them. It is again morning.)
Rainbow: (running into view with sign, swinging/hitting Sunset in the rump) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it!
Sunset: (screwing up one eye, rubbing spot) Ow!
Rainbow: Oops. Heh. Sorry. (walking off) I’ll be more careful from now on.
(Zoom in quickly to a close-up of the yellow-orange face, the brain behind it having ground to a sudden halt.)
Sunset: “Starswirled, day one”?
Applejack: (from o.s., under previous line) So I says to Big Mac, “Get your own chicken coop!”
(Cut to her, Twilight, and Fluttershy; the pink-haired girl spits juice all over Applejack and giggles as Sunset moves up.)
Fluttershy: Oh, sorry. That one has animals in it. (Sunset turns away, horrified.)
Sunset: (softly, to herself) What?
(Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: snap to Sunset standing frozen amid the four girls and Spike, who carry on with their morning activities and pay her no mind—that is, until Pinkie zips up next to Applejack.)
Pinkie: What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes? (Back to Sunset on the end of this; Pinkie hops over to her.) Pinkie Pie!
(She hustles the gobsmacked girl away, not noticing the puzzled glances coming her way from Twilight and Fluttershy. Dissolve to the sun in a clear blue sky and tilt down to the girls walking the trail that leads to the festival site. As on the previous day, Sunset steps in a puddle and topples forward with a cry, stopped only by her grab at Twilight’s shoulders, and Applejack has cleaned the juice off her clothing.)
Twilight: Whoa!
Pinkie: (now o.s.) Sunset, Sunset! Look!
(Cut to the other five girls, now gathered at the edge of the front gate.)
Pinkie: (waving wildly) So many lines to stand in! This day’s already amazing!
(She flashes away, drawing a smile from Twilight and an utterly confused look from Sunset; the egghead starts toward the lines, but pauses for a look back.)
Twilight: Are you okay?
Sunset: I’m…not sure.
(The seven join the admission lines and Pinkie sidles up to the girl she spoke to on the first pass.)
Pinkie: (casually) You come to this line often? Any other sweet lines we should hit up?
(Pan away on the end of this, putting her out of view and framing Twilight/Sunset as they step in. Rainbow is now between them and Pinkie.)
Sunset: What’s going on?
Rainbow: You said it, Sunset. (calling ahead, hands cupped to mouth) What’s with these long lines, man?
(Up at the bag inspection table, the guard is running a metal-detector wand over an old woman.)
Guard: Security is an art. (Back to Sunset, popeyed.)
Sunset (softly), Guard (from o.s.): It can’t be rushed.
(Her feeling of being stuck in a rerun rises another notch. Cut to the sun shining above the gate; a dissolve shifts it ahead in the sky by a considerable amount, and she regards her new admission wristband with visible trepidation while crossing the grounds. The other six are waiting for her as before, Pinkie bouncing with barely contained glee.)
Applejack: Welp, y’all have fun seein’ Post Crush. We’ll see you back at camp tonight. (Clear out, leaving Twilight/Pinkie/Sunset together.)
Pinkie: What do you want to do first, Sunset? There’s so much we could do, liiike… (She turns Sunset’s head to follow the direction she is looking.) …win a tandem bicycle?!?
(Cut to their perspective on the end of this, zooming in quickly on the contest stand where it is on display, then back to her.)
Pinkie: (running ahead) All I have to do is guess how many candies are in the jar! (Sunset grimaces and claps a hand to her forehead.)
Sunset: Anyone else having serious déjà vu?
Twilight: Nope, just déjà v-you. (Giggle; Sunset is unamused…) Get it? ’Cause it’s just you— (…and walks off.) —with the déjà v…
Sunset: I-I don’t know how to explain it, but…I did all of this yesterday. (Twilight catches up.)
Twilight: You were at school yesterday.
(Sunset stops short, eyes widening, and Twilight runs into her from behind and ends up having to straighten her glasses. They have arrived at the stand, but there is a noticeable absence of…)
Sunset: Pinkie Pie? (sourly) I know where she’s headed.
(Cut to just inside one of the entrances to the Neon Garden. Twilight and Sunset run in, the latter toting a bag of candies which she begins to lay down in a trail as before—this time facing forward instead of walking backward, however. Twilight brings up the rear, doing likewise with a bag of her own and facing back the way they came; as a result, neither girl spots Pinkie in between them, picking up the candies and stowing them in her magenta curls. As Sunset rounds a corner, the excitable teen pokes her head out from the hedges making up one wall, scoops up every piece within reach, and ducks away in time to avoid being spotted. Sunset boggles at the disappearance of the sweets, but soon comes across a trail of discarded wrappers and shows one to Twilight with a fierce smile. The remaining contents of their bags are quickly formed into a large pile, which Twilight situates under a simple trap consisting of an open, upside-down box with one edge propped up on a stick. Sunset inspects Twilight’s setup as Pinkie wanders in, now eating from her own bag of candy.)
Pinkie: What are we waiting for?
(Both hunters deflate at having been so easily outfoxed, and all three emerge from the Neon Garden without their candy.)
Sunset: Pinkie, focus! If you keep running off like this, we’ll be late for the concert!
(They reach the easels set up by the red-haired artist; on the next line, zoom out to frame him with paint-filled water balloons in hand.)
Artist: Who wants to be part of an art show?
Pinkie: Ooh, ooh, ooh! I do, I do! (He zeroes in on them.)
Sunset: No!
(Accompanied by the pink girl’s delighted squeal and laugh. Twilight and Sunset recoil as the projectiles fly, spattering them with multiple colors rather than only pink and blue, and Twilight removes her befouled glasses in time with Sunset’s weary groan.)
Pinkie: Awesome!
(Extreme close-up of the paper towel dispenser in the bathroom as Sunset yanks one sheet free, then cut to her sullenly wiping herself off at the mirror. Twilight’s reflection steps into view with clean lenses, and she voices a groan.)
Twilight: If this already happened, couldn’t you have warned us about the paint?
(Wild laughter from the o.s. Pinkie; both turn from the mirror toward the closed stalls.)
Sunset: (flatly) Pinkie Pie just splattered paint and it looks exactly like Rarity with a pirate mustache. How’s that?
Twilight: Well, that would prove it for sure.
(Right on cue, the stall door opens to frame the last member of the trio and the sloppy, mustachioed Rarity face across the inner face. She laughs and shows it off.)
Twilight: Seriously?
Pinkie: What? It’s washable.
(Dissolve to a slow pan through an eating area and stop on the three, all clean of paint. Sunset sits on one table to face Twilight and Pinkie, the latter eating fries from a basket she has acquired. It is nighttime.)
Sunset: So what do you think, Twi? Any scientific explanation for this?
Twilight: It’s possible that yesterday a snag in the fabric of space-time could cause a temporal point—i.e. today—to fold in on itself and thereby repeat. Quite fascinating, really.
(During this spiel, she swipes a fry and the camera cuts to a close-up of it as she bends it into a circle, framing Sunset’s confounded expression. Zoom in slowly.)
Sunset: Time loop! (Back to Twilight and Pinkie.)
Pinkie: Time loop! (laughing) Classic Sunset. (Twilight eats the fry.)
Sunset: But why only me? The only time I was alone was on the hill when I wished— (Pinkie whips over to her.)
Pinkie: —for more wishes? (flashing A-OK sign) Solid choice.
Sunset: This might sound crazy, but… (smiling) …I think Equestrian magic is giving me another chance to see Post Crush. (Mildly confused looks pass between the other two.)
Twilight: Eh, not that crazy.
Pinkie: Eh, seen crazier. (Pause.) Wait! Why didn’t you see Post Crush?
Sunset: Mistakes were made.
Pinkie: (arm around shoulders) Aw, don’t beat yourself up. I promise we’ll see them together tonight, or so help me, I… (Sniff.) …what’s that smell? (Again.) Could it be?
(Deep gasp; cut to her perspective of Puffed at her intact churro cart, offering a platter to a customer. Zoom in to a softly focused close-up of the food as she continues.)
Pinkie: Puffed Pastry’s exclusive star-crusted, cinnamon-dipped churros! (Back to her and Sunset, normal focus; she gets a dirty look and reels herself in.) Now’s probably not the best time to go get one.
(She offers up her batch of crispy starchy goodness with big dopey grin.)
Sunset: It’s not! (Push it back with a sudden forced smile.) Let’s get moving so nothing goes wrong for Post Crush. (Away she goes, followed by a pensive Twilight.)
Pinkie: (to herself) On the other hand, if I get two, then Sunset could have one with me. (resolutely) No! No! I will not give in!
(She squinches her eyes shut and covers them with her free hand, but as before, willpower evaporates with her first look toward the cart. There follows a softly focused, extreme close-up of Puffed loading churros into a paper carton, then a regular-focus shot of the girl whimpering and licking her chops as the conflict rages in her mind. The customer breaks a churro in half…Pinkie whines and bites her fingernails…teeth sink into the dessert…and Pinkie gives up the fight with a moan, the camera zooming out from her face as she throws her fries aside.)
Pinkie: But I can’t resist! (She sprints toward the cart.)
Sunset: Okay, this is the worst possible time for churros!
(Booted feet pound across the grass, and both Puffed and her next customer wisely vacate the cart to make room for Sunset to plant herself in front of it.)
Sunset: Pinkie, stop!
(The order has no effect whatsoever on the sugar connoisseur barreling toward her. Cut to Twilight, who cringes at the sound of both girls’ yells and the camera-shaking crash that marks the destruction of the cart, then to the slowly clearing dust and the guard’s shadow casting itself over its rubble and the dazed teens. He has fared just as badly as the first time around, and Pinkie’s weak giggle shifts his attitude not at all.)
Pinkie: Our bad.
Sunset: (jerking a thumb at her) No, her bad. You saw whose bad it was. Right, sir?
(The exit door is kicked open and both are roughly shoved out, having lost their wristbands—which he has cut away and proceeds to drop on the ground. He returns to his duties, clean and slamming the door shut, and once again the spotlights and cheers/chants assert themselves.)
Announcer: Let me hear three big cheers for two best friends who got back together for one incredible night…
Pinkie: (over end of previous; Sunset glares at her) Maybe you’ll get another another chance.
Announcer: …POOOST CRUUUSH!!
(Tilt up to the moon, which becomes the sun as night dissolves into day, then cut to a close-up of Sunset’s phone on her pillow as it sounds off. She flicks a pair of sleepy eyes toward it; cut to the area outside the motor home, where Twilight/Applejack/Fluttershy/Rarity/Spike are doing the same thing as the last two times around. Sunset, now dressed, emerges and circles to them in time with Twilight’s giggle. She slowly works her way up to a smile.)
Rainbow: (running into view with sign, swinging/hitting Sunset in the rump) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it!
Sunset: (strained, but still smiling) Thank you—ow!—thank you!
Rainbow: Oops. (Chuckle.) Sorry. I’ll be more careful from now on.
(She moves away; cut to the three breakfasters on the start of the following.)
Applejack: So I says to Big Mac— (Close-up of Fluttershy, drinking juice; she continues o.s.) —“Get your own chicken coop!”
(The nature buff chokes on her mouthful and sprays it all over the apple expert; cut to the latter as Fluttershy’s giggle drifts to her and Pinkie zips in.)
Pinkie: What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes? (Show A-OK sign, then dart to Sunset.) Pinkie Pi—
(The time-hopper claps a hand over her mouth to cut her off.)
Sunset: No time for jokes. I’m gonna head out on my own today. (running off) Laters!
Twilight: (calling after her) You okay?
Sunset: (pausing, calling over shoulder) Keep Pinkie Pie busy! (running, waving) Thanks!
Fluttershy: (to Pinkie) But…weren’t you supposed to see Post Crush together?
(The recipient of these words can only stare forlornly off down the trail. Wipe to a close-up of a self-satisfied Sunset approaching the head of one admission line, fresh wristband in place as she is checked through, then zoom in quickly to the other Rainbooms. Dismay and annoyance are present in different proportions on each face; Rainbow has put away her sign, and Applejack has cleaned herself up. Now the loner takes a moment to unfold her map and focus on the main stage.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) SUNSET!
(A panicked glance informs Sunset that the others have made it through the checkpoint, and the sight of Pinkie’s cheery wave sets her running.)
Pinkie: (racing after her) Hey! Wait up! (The chase curves past the contest booth.) Hey!
(She skids to a stop with a long gasp.)
Pinkie: (reading sign) “Win a Tandem Bike”? (She ignores it and continues running.) Sunset!
(Cut to just inside one entrance to the Neon Garden, the camera aimed out at the open space as Sunset pelts by.)
Pinkie: (chasing) SUUUNSEEET!!
(Who slams on the brakes after ducking around one outside corner and gasps for breath, only to have her pursuer pop out from the leaves.)
Pinkie: You found me! (Sunset yelps and rushes away.) Oh, okay! Now I’ll find you!
(As the artist works on setting up one of his two easels, the fugitive charges by and jumps over the other—lying face-down on the grass.)
Pinkie: (chasing her) I’m having fun with my friend! (Trip and fall on her face.) Whoa!
(The two girls sprint past Puffed’s cart, where the chef is mixing up a bowl of batter.)
Pinkie: Sunset!
(She stops and reaches a finger toward the bowl for a taste, but Puffed snatches it away indignantly and shifts herself well out of reach. Pinkie looks around herself, suddenly baffled, and a long overhead shot of the clearing reveals that Sunset is nowhere to be seen.)
Pinkie: Sunset? (Close-up; awful realization begins to set in.) Sunset! Are you…
(All ten fingers clap over her mouth to stifle a gasp; zoom in to an extreme close-up of her face and its two big, shiny, sad eyes.)
Pinkie: …ditching me?
(A nearly inaudible whimper escapes her lips before the camera cuts to the area immediately in front of the empty main stage. Sunset arrives here and drops to her knees with a relieved sigh as a couple of roadies drag in a speaker.)
Sunset: Universe, I promise to make the most of this do-over do-over.
(Snap to black, against which a bank of overhead spotlights flicks on, then cut to another set above the stage being energized. The camera shifts to a point near the back of a considerable crowd that has gathered to see the show and tilts up slowly. An electric guitar and drum kit have been set up against a backdrop of three giant video screens and dozens of small, suspended pink hearts, and night sky can be seen above the stage. Sunset can be seen at the front through a gap in the ranks; cut to a close-up of her, ready for the main event, then to the stage itself. Speakers have been set up to either side of a mixing board, and a hatch opens up between the guitar and drums to admit a burst of pinkish mist and a rising platform on which two young women stand back-to-back, clasping one another’s hands with heads lowered. During the next line, the camera cuts to an extreme close-up of Sunset’s enraptured expression, the duo reflected in her pupils, then back to the stage. They are the same two whose photo she uses in her phone alarm.)
Announcer: (laughing) Let me hear three big cheers for two best friends who got back together for one incredible night!
(The two raise their eyes to the audience; zoom in quickly to a close-up as the video screens flare to life with a pattern of radiating pink hearts and they lean against one another, striking the same poses as on Sunset’s phone. The one on the left, arms crossed and displaying a small enigmatic smile, is Kiwi Lollipop. Light blue skin; bright blue eyes with blue-violet shadow; voluminous wavy hair, tied back, striped two shades of pink with one blue streak; sparkly, sleeveless blue/pink/purple dress with a multi-layered skirt and pale yellow fur at the shoulders; pale blue gem on a purple ribbon at the throat; glittery, dark purple hair bow. The other, grinning broadly with one arm at her side and the other outstretched, is Supernova Zap: pale yellow skin; bright blue eyes; chin-length hair in blue-violet, pink, and pale blue with a matching bow; long-sleeved top in three shades of blue; sparkly pink skirt with lighter edging at the hem; black stockings that reach up past the knee. Pink hearts figure prominently in both performers’ outfits, both above and below the waist, and in the brooches pinned to Supernova’s bow; one is also painted onto each cheek. Footwear cannot be immediately discerned due to the spreading mist.)
Announcer: IT’S POOOST CRUUUSH!! (And the crowd goes wild.)
Sunset: (laughing, jumping in place) I did it! (She adopts Kiwi’s standing posture.) Post Crush roll call!
(Not having Pinkie on hand to support her weight, she overbalances and topples against the next boy over with an embarrassed yelp. Her good spirits quickly return as Kiwi plucks the guitar from its stand and Supernova takes up the drumsticks and sits behind the kit.)
Energetic electric guitar/synthesizer/drum pop/rock melody, fast 4 (A major)
Kiwi’s first word is sung a cappella
Kiwi: (muted) Yeah
(A quick drum fill, and they have begun their set.)
Post Crush: Be the true, true, true original
Dare to be what you are meant to be
(Kiwi makes a pass near the stage edge to touch as many outstretched hands as she can. Now her shoes are visible: deep orange-pink sandals with stacked purple high-heeled soles.)
Working hard, that’s our thing
(Sunset blushes and beams.)
All this way, we’re perfect, perfectly true
True, true original
(She lets herself become lost in the groove.)
True, true original
True, true original
(A slow pan behind the duo frames Supernova’s foot/legwear fully. The stockings are ringed by pink stripes below the knee and lavender/violet ones just above short, blue-ruffled, bright pink ankle-length boots with stacked heels. Kiwi is thrown off for a moment when the head of her guitar brushes against Supernova’s hi-hat cymbal.)
We’re perfect, perfectly true
Song ends
(Kiwi lets fly with her guitar pick—shaped as a pink heart, with a smaller gold one painted at the tip—and Sunset makes a joyous leap to snap it out of the air.)
Sunset: What a perfect day!
(Fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: snap to a close-up of three marshmallows being toasted on the grill near the Rainbooms’ motor home. Two more are laid on as one is removed, and a long shot frames all the girls save Pinkie and Sunset seated around the rig to enjoy a little half-melted sugar. The latter of these approaches, drawing puzzled/disapproving looks from all but Rainbow.)
Rainbow: Heh. There she is! Lone wolf! (Howl; Sunset sits with a blissful sigh.)
Applejack: (pointedly) Pinkie Pie’s been acting mighty strange this evening. Any idea what mighta happened to her? (The latecomer snaps out of her reverie.)
Sunset: (shrugging innocently) We lost track of each other.
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Me? (Pan slightly to frame her sitting at a picnic table a few feet back.) Lose track of Sunset? Ha! But she’s been right here the whole time! Right, actual Sunset Shimmer?
(On the second half of this line, she reaches o.s. and pulls a crude effigy of Sunset to herself, constructed from all manner of odds and ends—including a skewered marshmallow in one hand.)
Pinkie: (nodding its head, “speaking” for it in a deep voice) Right, Pinkie Pie. By the way, your roasting technique is flawless. (own voice, laughing, slightly unhinged) Thanks!
(The other six watch this display of bad crafting and worse impersonation with no small degree of worry. Long, uncomfortable silence.)
Rarity: (acidly, to Sunset) How was the show?
Sunset: It was… (blushing, smiling serenely) …perfect.
Rarity: (scoffing) I was being judgmental, darling. What is the point of throwing shade if no one’s there to catch it? (Sunset plays it off with a shrug.)
Sunset: Sorry. Too blissed out from the show to care right now. Talk tomorrow?
(Rising to her feet, she takes her leave of the discontented quintet around the grill and the badly rattled doll-maker. Tilt up to the crescent moon, which becomes the sun in a cut from night to day, then cut to a slow zoom in on Sunset, once more sleeping by herself in the motor home. Off goes her phone’s alarm, waking her up.)
Sunset: Hmm? (She sits up with a smile—pajamas on—and stretches.) Ahhh!
(Outside; she paces tranquilly across the grass, now dressed for a new day, but stops short upon seeing Rarity primping Spike as she has done every time before. Sweat begins to run down Sunset’s face as the blue-green eyes dart to her other side, where Twilight/Applejack/Fluttershy are having breakfast and Rainbow is adjusting the handle on her sign.)
Sunset: (mind blown) It…can’t be! It’s still—
Rainbow: (running into view, swinging/hitting Sunset in the rump) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it! (Sunset grits her teeth in silent fury.) Oh! Uh, sorry. (walking away) I’ll be more careful from now on.
(Instead of cutting loose with a crushing retort, the target of this carelessness takes a second to compose herself.)
Sunset: (impatiently) Okay, Equestrian magic.
(The background changes around her in a rapidly accelerating tempo on the next line, shifting her to one location after another on the festival grounds.)
Sunset: My…do-over…can…end now!
(The scenery roulette ends with her standing in front of a food truck, from which she stalks away in just a bit of a bad mood. Her feet stop her next to Sandalwood, whose attention is fixed on his phone, and Snips strolls along with snow cone in hand as Snails steps up to order from a truck offering burgers and fries. She speaks in a thoroughly bored tone of voice during the following exchanges.)
Sunset: (to herself) Cue Snips, and push Sandalwood out of the way in three…two…
Snips: (to her) You stage-direct— (Trip, dropping his snack.) —whoa!
(At the same moment, she throws out a palm and shoves the green-dreadlocked eco-kid back so that the snow cone barely misses his shirt and vest. Jolted back to the real world, he walks away.)
Snips: (moaning) You could’ve warned me, you know.
Sunset: Tried that. You called me a witch.
Snips: (gasping, whispering) Are you?
(She just gives him a king-size eye roll and groan and turns to leave, but runs flat into the artist as he carries one of his easels across the field.)
Artist: Hey! Watch it! (Snips stands up…)
Sunset: Sorry. I thought you didn’t come up ’til later. (…and leaves.) I’ll make a note of that for next time. (to herself) Day seventeen, saw paint guy by food truck right before he breaks up with his girlfriend.
(A passing girl stops short at this last, eyes bugging out—the girlfriend in question, doubtless.)
Sunset: (to artist) It’s not you, it’s her. (Girlfriend sobs and runs off.) I’m not a witch. I’m just gonna go. (She matches action to word.)
Artist: Yeah, well, you better run!
(Setting aside the idea of revenge, he hustles after his now-ex-girlfriend as fast as he can go, given his encumbrance.)
Sunset: (scornfully) Run from my problems? (She stops, an idea snapping her out of mental lassitude.) I actually haven’t tried that yet.
(Dissolve to a slow pan across the exterior of the motor home at night. Through the windows, Sunset can be seen climbing into the driver’s seat; the engine rumbles to life, the headlights switch on, and the next shots frame her foot slamming down on the gas pedal and rousing Twilight/Fluttershy/Pinkie/Rainbow from a sound sleep in their bags on the floor. They are in their pajamas, and Twilight has left her glasses folded up within arm’s reach. As the wheeled bunkhouse hurtles down the road under the control of its half-crazed driver, Twilight stumbles up to the passenger seat, now wearing her specs. She lurches forward with a cry, grabbing at the seat back to keep from being thrown down.)
Twilight: Sunset! (sitting, pulling out seat belt) Slow down!
(But Sunset has no intention of doing so, if a cut to road level is any indication. The motor home thunders along, nearly overturning on an S-curve and bringing a chorus of fearful yelps from the passengers. Back to Sunset.)
Sunset: I gotta break outta here somehow!
(Cut to Twilight, now belted into her seat, and zoom out to frame both on the next line.)
Sunset: Maybe if I leave the campgrounds, it’ll finally end! (Pinkie peeks up from a rear seat, also belted in.)
Pinkie: What are you TALKING ABOUT?!?
Sunset: This is all your fault!
(Road level. The vehicle tilts back and forth during its headlong flight, sparking terrified screams from the unwilling fellow travelers, and one pair of wheels jounces heavily over a stone just before a loud backfire emanates from the tailpipe. This is followed by a steady plume of smoke as the motor home coasts to a stop. Dissolve to a slow pan along the shoulder, where they have managed to steer it and climbed out. Applejack lifts the rear end with her magical strength so Rainbow can play a flashlight over the undercarriage; Fluttershy, Rarity, and Spike have fallen asleep, sitting and leaning against each other; Twilight and Pinkie stand over an ashamed/disgusted Sunset, who sits with hands covering her face. All except the deposed driver are in their pajamas.)
Pinkie: (leaning down to her) Are you saying the calendar industry cooked up a conspiracy to make every day today just to save paper?!? (She winds up standing as she finishes.)
Sunset: No, I’m not saying that at all!
Pinkie: (thoughtfully, pacing) You’re right. It’s too obvious.
Sunset: (to Twilight) Sorry to hijack the RV while you were all sleeping, but I’ve tried everything except leaving. (Cut to Twilight.)
Twilight: Hmm. It’s possible a snag in the fabric of space-time could cause a—
Twilight, Sunset: (Sunset from o.s. and very bored) —temporal point, i.e. this day, to fold in on itself and thereby repeat.
(Cut to the jaded would-be runaway on the end of this, putting Twilight out of view, then to both again. Long silence.)
Twilight, Sunset: You really have done this a lot! (Pause.) Okay, you’ve made your point! Stop!
Sunset: (groaning) This time loop started because I missed Post Crush, so why didn’t it end when I saw them?
Twilight: You sure it’s only about Post Crush?
(She glances to one side, the camera panning to frame Pinkie at a short distance with her back turned to the pair.)
Sunset: Uh… (Pinkie turns brightly to them.)
Pinkie: I probably ask you this every day, but what did Princess Twilight say when you told her about this?
Sunset: (thunderstruck, smiling) The journal! Of course! How did I not try that weeks ago?
(The uncertain glances that pass between blue and purple eyes bring a chagrined blush to the yellow-orange cheeks when the camera cuts back to Sunset. Laughter floats down from the o.x. Pinkie; back to her and Twilight.)
Pinkie: Seriously, though, why didn’t you? (She sits next to Sunset in a blink, laying a chummy arm across her shoulders as she continues.) Are you asking yourself, “Self, how’d I spend seventeen days with my best friend Pinkie Pie without asking for help until now?”?
Sunset: (small voice) Uh…
Twilight: (dryly) Still think this is only about Post Crush?
(The camera shifts from Pinkie’s happy smile to Sunset’s apprehensive frown, then cuts to frame all seven on the start of the next line. Applejack has set the motor home down and pulled out her phone, and Rainbow has put away her flashlight.)
Applejack: Bad news. Transmission’s shot. (Screen tap.) Repairs ain’t gonna be cheap. (Rainbow yawns and stretches.) Tow truck says he’ll need cash tomorrow. (Pinkie now lies on her back, legs propped vertically on a stretch of bushes.)
Sunset: (sighing wearily) Tomorrow? Sure. Tell him I’ll give him a million bucks if I see him.
(She lets her head fall onto her knees and gets a reassuring pat from Pinkie. Cut to a long shot of the less-than-magnificent seven and their disabled ride, then dissolve to it and them right back on their campsite the next morning. Business as usual with Twilight/Applejack/Fluttershy/Rarity/Spike out here, and the same proves true with a cut to the interior. This time around, the camera points from the foot end of Sunset’s bunk toward the head and is at such a height to leave her out of view. The sound of her phone’s alarm breaks the silence.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) Huh?
(She chooses to shut it off by throwing it up to bounce off a window in the back wall and adds a long, pained moan. Outside, she emerges in her full outfit and circles toward the others, magic journal tucked under one arm. Cut to Rainbow, rounding the corner with sign in hand.)
Rainbow: (swinging/hitting Sunset in the rump) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it!
Sunset: (glowering, rubbing spot) Ow!
Rainbow: Oops. Heh. Sorry. I- I’ll be more careful from now on.
Sunset: No, Rainbow Dash, you won’t! Every day you say that, but you never are! Why won’t you change?
(Long, scared silence from Rainbow.)
Rainbow: (backing away slowly) Oooo-kay.
Pinkie: (from o.s.) What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes? (She pops up next to Sunset.) Pinkie Pie!
(Sunset manages not to scream Pinkie stupid as she is unceremoniously ushered away. Wipe to a slow pan through the lounge tent as seen in “Festival Filters,” in which a few attendees are chilling out in their own ways. The two girls have commandeered a low table, and the journal lies open before them. Sunset is writing at a breakneck pace as Pinkie takes a pull at a frothy drink. Close-up.)
Pinkie: So you think Princess Twilight can help you with this temporal loop thingie?
(Sunset sets her pen aside during this, then looks over her lines as Pinkie eats the cherry from her drink.)
Sunset: (sighing, closing journal) I sure hope so.
(The fun-lover slurps again, the camera cutting to point up at them both and frame one edge of the closed tome. A series of three dissolves shifts them through various idle positions, boredom growing all the time; however, Pinkie never takes her lips off that straw. One the fourth iteration, the book starts to buzz and vibrate with an incoming message and the cover flips open on its own, instantly revving them. White light pours up from the pages, growing to fill the screen and then subsiding to present a long overhead shot of the throne room in the Castle of Friendship, in Ponyville. Princess Twilight sits at the edge of the bare central table, stacks of books/scrolls to either side, and is writing in her journal with a quill held in her magic. Zoom in slowly.)
Princess Twilight: (dictating) “Sunset—” (Close-up.) “—I’ve been doing some research, and it looks like you’ve found another long-lost Equestrian artifact.”
(She floats and opens a scroll on this sentence; back to Pinkie and Sunset.)
Sunset: (sourly) Lucky me.
(The throne room again, a close-up of the table. Now the journal’s pages are crammed with notes, diagrams, and a picture of a gold-framed oval device set with three stars and an open eye. A stylized horn protrudes from one end, while a pair of wings sprouts from the other to spread along the length. The scroll bears further sketches of this piece, front and back, and a stopwatch.)
Princess Twilight: (from o.s.) “The Time Twirler. I don’t know how it found its way into your world, but when activated, it has the power to loop time.”
(As she speaks these words, her quill drags itself over the material on the scroll to highlight it in the manner of clicking and dragging a computer mouse cursor, then creates a copy of the lot and deposits it on a blank page. Back to Pinkie, who has put her drink aside, and Sunset.)
Twilight: (voice over) “What you’re experiencing isn’t simply magic run amuck—” (The journal pages; the Time Twirler rotates slowly within its picture, blinks, and splays its feathers.) “—or a wish gone awry. Somepony is using the Time Twirler to cause this.”
Sunset: If we find whoever used the Time Twirler to start the loop, we’ll be able to end it for good! (setting journal down) Tell the others we’ve got a new mission.
(Dissolve to the Rainbooms crossing the festival grounds at sunset. Rainbow is not carrying her sign.)
Rainbow: That was just a little preview of the rad-tacular— (She fades out under Pinkie’s next words.)
Pinkie: (to Sunset) Whoever has the Time Twirler is the only person besides you who isn’t in the same place, doing the same thing every day. (She circles to face Sunset, walking backwards to keep pace.) Have you noticed anyone who doesn’t belong? Anyone out of place? Anyone... (intensely; screen narrows to a close-up of her face.) …evil?!?
(Fullscreen; all seven have now stopped.)
Sunset: I don’t think so. How could I? Every day is the same!
(Bon Bon and Lyra Heartstrings stroll past, hand in hand.)
Bon Bon, Lyra: (singing) Every day’s the same
(fading out) Did we lose the magic, magic…
Sunset: (over previous) It goes around and ’round. (A thought strikes.) Wait. What was that?
(The artist jogs by, listening to an MP3 player through earphones.)
Artist: (singing) ’Round and ’round and ’round and ’round
(Sunset’s thought turns a few new colors and grows some hair, prompting her to run after the redhead.)
Artist: ’Round and ’round and—
(She catches up, pulling one earphone loose to stop him.)
Sunset: (putting it to her own ear) Hey, what are you listening to?
Artist: (jerking thumb ahead) Meh.
(Cut to a long shot of a performance stage, smaller than the one on which Post Crush performed. It is wreathed in sparkly greenish fog and has drawn a few dozen cheering spectators. The artist heads toward this, having fully reclaimed his player, while the Rainbooms hang well back.)
Quiet synthesizer chords, moderate 4; lyrics echo slightly (C major)
Same melody as in the “Find the Magic” short
Dazzlings: So ordinary, stuck on repeat
Gotta find the passion, passion, passion
Sunset: (over second line) I think we’ve got a clue.
(All seven beat feet to the back of the audience and voice a round of flabbergasted gasps, the camera shifting to a close-up of Applejack/Pinkie/Rarity.)
Closed hi-hat on every second beat; soft synth melody in
Dazzlings: The days go ’round and ’round, ’round and ’round
Gotta break away, find a great escape
’Round and ’round and ’round, ’round and ’round and ’round
Oh-h
(The following exchange is overlaid on these four lines.)
Pinkie: They must be a last-minute addition! (Sunset starts trying to peek through from behind.)
Sunset: Who? (Pan to frame Twilight/Fluttershy/Rainbow on Applejack’s other side.)
Rainbow: But they lost their voices! (Sunset peeks between her and Applejack.) They gotta be using magic!
Applejack: That or vocal processing.
Rainbow: They wouldn’t! (Pause.) Wait, what am I talking about? Of course they would.
Sunset: (shoving forward through them; zoom out) Who are you talking about?!?
(Now it is her turn to gasp in shock; cut in turn to an extreme close-up of each Dazzling’s face and the microphone she holds as a spotlight illuminates it. Sonata Dusk is first, then Aria Blaze, and finally Adagio Dazzle.)
Cymbal roll; bass synth in; vocal harmonies behind lyrics
Dazzlings: Let’s find, let’s find
Let’s find the magic
Sunset: (incredulously; zoom in slowly on her) The Dazzlings are back?
(They are wearing the same outfits as in “Find the Magic.”)
Dazzlings: Let’s find the magic
Song pauses
(Snap to black at the same time, an instant after a wink from Sonata.)
Act Four
Song resumes with a cymbal roll; bass/melody synths and hi-hat out
Vocal harmonies only, followed by end of song
(Opening shot: snap to a long overhead shot of the stage as the three singers sing this final portion, then to a slow pan across the scene from the back of the crowd. A close-up reveals that their attitudes have shifted right back where they were in Rainbow Rocks. Aria and Sonata slot their microphones back into the stands, but Adagio uses hers to amplify only the first sentence of her next line.)
Adagio: (sighing contemptuously) That song’s called “Find the Magic.” (under her breath, holding mic at arm’s length) Human scum.
(She lets it drop, setting off a whine of feedback, and all three grin nastily as they exit stage left.)
Sunset: Seriously?
Rarity: (dismissively) The chord progression is kind of samey-samey.
Sunset: And the Dazzlings are behind the time loop!
Rarity: (singsong, toying with her hair) Still no excuse for lazy songwriting.
Rainbow: So what are we gonna do?
(Sunset answers that one by starting to pace. Cut to the entrance to a fenced-in backstage area; the guard from the front gate hooks a velvet rope across it once the Dazzlings have passed through. Snips and Snails run up, the former carrying a rolled-up poster, but stop cold upon seeing the man on duty. Back to the Rainbooms.)
Sunset: New mission—we have to get backstage.
Twilight: Our backstage passes are only good for day two, and you’re not a VIP. (Sunset groans, hand to forehead.)
Pinkie: (to her) You’re a V-Important-P to me.
Sunset: (pointing ahead) The key is getting past him.
(On this last word, zoom out quickly to frame Snails trying to sweet-talk his way past the impassive guard. The next shot frames these two and Snips, who has unrolled his poster.)
Snips: Uh…uh, we just want an autograph.
(But all he gets is a firm shake of the head, which sends both boys fleeing in tears. Slow pan across the girls, the next three lines overlapping with an unnerved mumble from Twilight.)
Fluttershy: He’s terrible.
Rainbow: Yikes.
Rarity: Oh, my.
Pinkie: (determinedly, interlocking/flexing fingers to crack knuckles) The weak shall crumble before me! (striding ahead) I got this!
Sunset: Wait! (She darts up; Pinkie stops.) If you want to help, let me come up with a plan. (Pinkie moves on, unnoticed.) No distractions, no detours, no—
(She cuts herself off upon finally realizing that the party ace has bailed out.)
Sunset: (deflated, following her) —walking off while I’m talking to you.
(Pinkie inspects the guard closely from a number of angles, even bringing a magnifying glass into play for a moment, and then strolls casually up to him.)
Pinkie: Last summer, weren’t you working at the, um…
Guard: Cat food convention.
Pinkie: (not quite in synch with him) Cat food convention? (nodding happily) Oh, that’s right, mmm-hmm! (She rests a hand on one of his crossed forearms.) Uh, you were the guy who, um…
Guard: (dryly) Yeah. I…got…FIRED!! (Pinkie backs off.)
Pinkie: Because, mmm…now, what happened again? (The other girls cross to the scene.)
Guard: I tried taking a kitten home with me, all right? But that’s against the rules!
Sunset: (to herself, clapping hand to face) Ugh! If she blows this thing, I’ll have to start all over tomorrow!
(Pinkie weighs her options very carefully before speaking next.)
Pinkie: Was it an orange cat?
Guard: (unhinged) TUXEDO!! ASK ME HER NAME!! SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!
(She manages to completely miss both Sunset’s frantic attempt to drag her back and the other five’s panicked “drop it” gestures and head shakes.)
Pinkie: What was her n—
(Extreme close-up of her wristband being cut off, then cut to her and Twilight standing outside the open exit door and zoom out to frame all seven. The entire group has been ejected this time, and the guard shuts them out and himself in. Night has fallen, and Sunset aims a glare at Pinkie that would vaporize a diamond if one were handy.)
Pinkie: (moaning sadly) I guess I don’t got this.
(As she whimpers out her misery, Sunset finds her own disgusted attitude softening quite against her will—and it even turns into a grin of inspiration as she steps over.)
Sunset: You don’t, but together, we do. (Pink hands clasp the offered yellow-orange ones.) For a time looper, today’s failure is tomorrow’s success.
(Her positivity has spread to Pinkie by the time she finishes. Cut to a close-up of Sunset’s phone sounding its alarm on her pillow. She deactivates it and wraps a set of fingers around it, sitting up in her bunk within the motor home. A smile of newfound determination crosses her face as she throws off her sleeping bag and bounds away; an instant later she is outside, having traded pajamas for civvies, and crossing to the breakfast gathering as Rainbow runs up with her sign.)
Rainbow: Starswirled, day one! (swinging/hitting Sunset’s rump) Come and get it!
(The unintended target gives her a flat look and rubs the spot.)
Rainbow: Heh. Sorry.
(Off she goes. Cut to the breakfast gathering; a giggling Fluttershy has just spat her juice all over Applejack in response to the chicken coop story.)
Fluttershy: Oh! Sorry. (Here come Pinkie and Sunset.)
Pinkie: What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes?
(Display A-OK sign, then get seized by the wrist and dragged off by Sunset before she can deliver the punchline.)
Pinkie: Whoa!
(Sunset steps in the mud…the admission lines move along…a bag is presented and checked…Sunset gets her wristband…the Dazzlings finish their sunset performance.)
Adagio: (under her breath, dropping microphone) Human scum.
(The three exit stage left to the sound of wild cheers and head backstage, the guard securing the entrance behind them. Here come Snips and Snails with their poster, which Snips unrolls once the camera cuts to the three males.)
Snips: Uh, w-we just want an autograph.
(They are rejected as before and run off crying. Now, though, the guard cocks an eyebrow and gasps softly as the camera zooms in slightly toward his face. Cut to Pinkie and Sunset as they make their calm approach and pass the two fleeing boys. Sunset is carrying a wicker basket, decorated with a large pink bow, that holds a small kitten with white ears/chest and dark gray everything else—one variation of the “tuxedo” coloration pattern. The guard’s jaw drops slowly to full extension, but Sunset just cocks one eyebrow and walks straight up to him. He claps both hands to his mouth to hold in what might be a most unprofessional scream of joy as Pinkie brings up the rear.)
Sunset: (as the kitten meows) Say hello to Hattie the kitty cat.
(The big guy carefully scoops the animal out of the basket and cuddles it to his cheek, receiving a gentle purr and lick in close-up.)
Guard: (on the verge of tears) Hello, Mr. Kitty. (Back to Pinkie and Sunset on the following; the basket has been set aside.)
Sunset: If you spend all your time keeping people out, how are you ever gonna let anybody in… (Zoom in slightly.) …to your heart?
Guard: Oh, gosh. (unhooking velvet rope) Go ahead and go backstage, the both of youse. (They do so.)
Pinkie: Really? Wow, thanks!
(He sets the barrier back in place behind them and instantly makes Hattie the full focus of his affection.)
Pinkie: Great idea, Sunset!
Sunset: We came up with it together.
(Cut to an overhead shot of a van parked on a dirt trail just behind the stage amid a few scattered equipment crates. The color scheme is not particularly appealing, striped in browns/greens/grays and marked on its hood and passenger side with several spray-painted copies of the gem from Adagio’s boots. Pinkie and Sunset approach it, but stop short at the sound of a clicking door latch, and the camera cuts to ground level. The driver’s side, facing them, is stenciled with a string of large yellow/orange letters instead of gems. The girls scramble for cover behind the crates and get clear an instant before a sliding door opens on the driver’s side. Sonata climbs out, then Aria.)
Sonata: Ooh, that was our best show yet!
Aria: The loop is really working. (Adagio emerges.)
Adagio: Of course it’s working. It was my idea.
(Pan quickly to Pinkie and Sunset in their hiding place.)
Sunset: I knew it! I bet they’re hiding the Time Twirler somewhere in their tour bus.
Pinkie: Nice thinking! Also… (They peek over the top of a crate.) …looks more like a tour van to me.
(Comes now the sound of the door being slid shut; Sunset ducks out of sight and pulls her down so that they go unseen by the departing Dazzlings. With the coast now clear, the investigators quit their vantage point and cross to the van. Sunset opens the door.)
Sunset: (climbing in) Stay here and stand guard. If you see anyone coming, sound the alarm. (Close the door.)
Pinkie: You got it! (pacing around van) No one’s gonna get by me! No way, nohow! Nuh-uh, nope! Nah, nah, nah!
(The owners of said vehicle make their way across the grounds, but Adagio’s sudden stop brings the others up short as well.)
Adagio: Wait. Did one of you remember to take the bread out of the toaster?
Aria: (pointedly, to Sonata) It’s not my job to not start fires
Sonata: (scoffing) How was I supposed to know you can’t put tacos in the toaster?
Adagio: Ugh! You two are so annoying! Let’s go.
(They head back the way they came; meanwhile, Pinkie has kept up her patrol around the van.)
Pinkie: (intently) Keeping watch. That’s what I— (Stop; sniff the air as vapors waft toward her.) —what’s that smell? (Deep inhalation.) Could it be?
(Pan quickly to a long shot of Puffed’s cart, which is doing a lively business, and zoom out to frame Pinkie watching it from the fore. A tiny funny happy noise escapes her throat.)
Pinkie: Puffed Pastry’s exclusive star-crusted, cinnamon-dipped churros! Ooh…now’s probably not the best time to go get one. (A moment’s thought.) On the other hand, if I get two, then Sunset could have one with me. (fiercely) No! I will not give in!
(But she almost immediately does, voicing an ecstatic shudder and licking her chops as she races toward the cart. Just as quickly, she backs up with arms extended as if to ward it off.)
Pinkie: No, no, no! (Another shuddery rush…) So good… (…and back off.) No, no!
(The third time is the charm for the “feed me” center of her brain, and she does not return from this run toward the cart. Inside the van, Sunset has found a kitchen counter equipped with a sink, stove burner, and various small cooking aids. Nothing seems out of order here, so she turns to a couch and lifts away a pillow only to find it innocuous.)
Sunset: Not here… (Check a drawer.) …no…
(Inspect a cabinet with a grown, then pick up a toaster while wearing oven mitts.)
Sunset: …oh, where is it?
(The appliance proceeds to pop up two slices of toast, surprising a grunt out of her—evidently both Aria and Sonata neglected to clear the slots.)
Sunset: Who leaves toast in a toaster? Honestly!
(The door is run open to frame three rather put-out Dazzlings.)
Adagio: Don’t even think about eating our toast, Sunset Shimmer!
(The foiled sleuth hastily sets the toaster back on the counter and shakes off the mitts with a forced laugh. Cut to her perspective, zooming in quickly past Adagio/Aria to a close-up of Pinkie picking up an order of churros to go. She sighs angrily; back to her.)
Sunset: I was wrong. This is the worst possible time for churros.
Adagio: What are you doing on our bus?
Sunset: Sorry-not-sorry, Adagio, but it’s time to take this track off repeat. (pointing) I heard you admit the time loop was your idea.
Adagio: Time loop? What? (smiling) We looped a vocal track.
(The Dazzlings laugh, but Sunset cuts them off by jumping out and clamping five fingers around Adagio’s wrist. Her eyes burn pure white to mark the use of her telepathy-by-touch.)
Adagio: Hey! (The power fades.)
Sunset: (reluctantly) You’re telling the truth.
Adagio: (yanking loose) Of course I am!
Sunset: But your song! “Every day is the same”! (Close-up of Adagio.)
Adagio: That’s about being stuck in this miserable human world with no magic or hope of returning to Equestria! (Pan to Aria on the next line.)
Aria: And by the way, if there’s Equestrian magic afoot around here, we call dibs.
Sunset: I thought if anyone would want to be able to redo the day and fix their mistakes, it’s you three.
Adagio: We made the mistake of using our powers to manipulate Canterlot High School, and we’ve paid the price for it—with our magic. (Sonata leans in.)
Sonata: Unless you count the magic of vocal processing.
Adagio: Which I don’t!
(Both listeners recoil under the ferocity of these three words; now Adagio takes a second to collect herself before going on.)
Adagio: What I’m saying is— (Zoom in slowly.) —we already get a do-over with every new day. (smiling unpleasantly) It’s called “living life.”
Sonata: You should try it sometime. (Laughs from the Dazzlings.)
Sunset: I can’t!
Aria: (mockingly) Poor Sunset Shimmer. Are you mad?
Sunset: I don’t get a new day, okay? I get this day forever! Nothing changes! I can’t tell you how sick I am of Pinkie Pie ruining everything by running off to get churros! I hate churros!
(The camera cuts to frame all four, the Dazzlings stunned into a momentary silence by this outburst. Pinkie’s legs can be seen in a gap between theirs.)
Pinkie: Oh. (They step aside to reveal her, plate of goodies in hand; zoom in.) I, uh, just wanted to say the Dazzlings are back, but I see you see they see you’ve seen them and you’ve seen me too, so, um…see you.
(By the time she finishes, she has separately stowed both the plate and a fistful of churros in her hair. She then turns away sobbing.)
Pinkie: Cool tour bus! (Run off.)
Sunset: No, Pinkie! I didn’t mean it!
Adagio: If the day’s always the same, maybe you’re the one who needs to change.
(The three climb into the van. Cut to an overhead shot and zoom out slowly as it rolls out, Aria at the wheel, and fade to black.)
Act Five
(Opening shot: fade in to Sunset chasing Pinkie past the main stage and drawing murmurs from those nearby. Cut briefly to an extreme close-up of Sunset’s hand touching Pinkie’s shoulder to arrest her motion for the start of the next line, then to both.)
Sunset: Pinkie Pie, wait up!
(The distraught girl shakes off the hand and turns to hide her tightly shut, watering eyes.)
Sunset: (sighing) I’m sorry.
Pinkie: It’s okay! (wiping away tears) Did you convince the Dazzlings to break the time loop?
Sunset: No. It wasn’t them. (Pinkie stops crying.)
Pinkie: Oh. Well, I’m gonna find a nice line to wait in so I don’t ruin it for you again. (sobbing again) You deserve to have a good day, Sunset!
(She runs off, whimpering as the waterworks kick up again.)
Sunset: (sadly) So do you, Pinkie Pie.
(Eyes widen as a connection falls together in her mind. Wipe to a close-up of her phone on her pillow; its alarm goes off to wake her up from her bunk inside the motor home, and she sits up and shuts it off with a smile. Outside, the morning proceedings are going as before; out she comes, pajamas switched for street clothes. Morning has come.)
Rainbow: (running into view with sign, swinging it) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it!
(This time, the wood meets only empty air because Sunset has ducked out of its way.)
Sunset: Not today!
Applejack: (to Fluttershy) …“Get your own chicken coop!” (Fluttershy does her spit take and giggles; Pinkie zips up.)
Pinkie: What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes? (Show A-OK sign; Sunset steps in.)
Sunset: (singsong) You call her Pinkie Pie— (hugging/twirling her away) —because you spell your name with three I’s!
Fluttershy: Ohhhhhh! (Chuckle.) Puns.
(Applejack rolls her eyes at the bad joke. Wipe to a close-up of the mud puddle that has gotten the better of Sunset time and time again on the hike to the festival grounds—but not today, as she plants both feet squarely on the dry ground to either side.)
Sunset: In your face, mud!
Twilight: Uh, you okay?
Sunset: (calmly, passing her) Never better.
(She strolls up to the gate and stops long enough for Pinkie to zip onto the asphalt.)
Pinkie: A line? (grabbing Sunset’s shoulders) Ah! This day’s already amazing!
Sunset: I know! (arm around Pinkie’s shoulders) Pick whichever one you want. They’re all slow. But security is an art. It can’t be rushed.
(The guard looks up from his bag inspection and shoots a fist in her direction with a knowing smile—he has heard her loud and clear—and the camera zooms out quickly to put her smirking visage in the fore. She lifts a fist to head level in silent acknowledgment, is swiftly issued a wristband, and trades a fist bump with him before running through the gate. A few steps bring her to the rest of the Rainbooms, including a clean Applejack, whereupon the drapes an arm across Pinkie’s shoulders and turns her head to look in a particular direction. Cut to their perspective and zoom in quickly on the contest stand with its tandem bicycle, drawing a deep gasp from Pinkie, then back to the pair.)
Pinkie: (reading sign) “Win a Tandem Bicycle”?
(She peels out with enough speed to blow the others’ hair sideways, and Sunset gets her own legs in gear to catch up.)
Applejack: (calling after them) You two have fun now!
(Pinkie is hunching down to the jar of jellybeans in short order.)
Pinkie: All I have to do is guess how many candies are in the jar— (singsong) —and my sugar senses say…three hundred and five!
(She stands up, but slumps over with a crushed moan upon getting buzzed out by the attendant as on her first try. Now Sunset strolls up.)
Sunset: Five hundred seventy-two and a half, counting the green jellybean you ate part of in the parking lot.
(The attendant gives a start of surprise, at both the exact guess and her knowledge of that hidden detail, and Pinkie’s spirits rise again. Dissolve to a stretch of the grounds, through which the girls ride on the bicycle they have just won—Sunset up front, Pinkie behind, both wearing helmets.)
Pinkie: Whee!
Sunset: Whoa!
(Both trail off into laughter as they screech to a halt at one entrance to the Neon Garden. An instant later they are laughing and running in, helmets gone and Sunset leading Pinkie by the hand. The frizzy-haired teen gasps at the sight of the lights that festoon every bit of greenery, then offers a grateful smile to her fellow explorer. Wipe to another stretch of the maze; still laughing, they run/cartwheel back and forth and pop out from passages on opposite sides.)
Pinkie: Oh, Sunset!
(Wipe to a photo booth elsewhere in the Neon Garden. Sunset stops near it and beckons Pinkie on; inside, they crowd onto the bench, Pinkie pulls the curtain shut, and they wave to the camera. A flash fills the screen and clears to show two strips of four pictures each being dispensed, capturing the girls in a range of silly poses. Pinkie plucks these away, and the two share a long laugh while standing outside the booth.)
(Wipe to the entrance at which they stopped. They run out, Sunset leading Pinkie by the wrist, and stop in front of the artist’s easels. The photos have been pocketed. Sunset lets go with a shrill whistle, drawing a smirk from the man with the paint balloons, and both targets start laughing all over again as he unloads a brightly hued barrage at them. One pair of impacts fills the screen with a slosh of purple paint, which drains away to change the scene to the bathroom. Sunset stands wiping her face at the mirror, while Pinkie opens a stall door and emerges, showing off the Rarity-face/mustache smear from earlier iterations. Both girls are now free of paint—at least until Sunset lowers her paper towel to show off a purple smudge on her upper lip that is a close match for the one in the accidental painting. Pinkie laughs at the imitation.)
(Dissolve to a long shot of the main stage at sunset, a few festival-goers hanging around and doing nothing of importance. Pinkie and Sunset walk up, arm in arm; Sunset’s face is clean.)
Pinkie: This is the best day ever! (Both stop.) And now for the grand finale— (Sunset turns her toward an encroaching tendril of steam.) —Post…
(She never gets to the second half of the band name, as she has drawn the vapor into her lungs.)
Pinkie: What’s that smell?
Sunset: You’ll see. Follow me.
Puffed: (from o.s., under previous two lines, voice raised) Puffed Pastry’s exclusive Starswirled cinnamon-swirled churros!
(Cut to her at the cart on the end of this, platter in hand.)
Puffed: Get them while they’re marginally fresher than a little bit!
(On the end of this, two boys approach and the camera cuts to them as she hands over a loaded carton. Pinkie and Sunset step up, the former gasping in sheer disbelief as the boys clear off.)
Pinkie: (turning Sunset’s face to hers, squashing her cheeks) How did you know?
Sunset: (to Puffed, muffled, raising two fingers) Two, please.
(The orders are boxed up and given out, and the dessert lover allows herself a long inhalation of the heavenly odor.)
Sunset: You know, when I did things alone my way, I realized having a perfect day wasn’t perfect without… (Cut to Pinkie, nuzzling the carton; she continues o.s.) …you. (Lower it.)
Pinkie: Awww…
(Both pull a churro and tap them together in a toast—generating an oddly solid clank in the process that is repeated when Sunset bites down. She pulls it out, intact, but Pinkie manages to chomp cleanly through hers and goes on eating.)
Sunset: Ow!
Pinkie: Mmm-mmm!
Sunset: (over previous line) Mine’s hard s a rock. This is like eating a crowbar.
(Now her fellow traveler hits one of that consistency and giggles after failing to make a dent with her teeth.)
Pinkie: I know!
(She tries to nibble it like corn on the cob, drawing a very funny look from Sunset. On the next line, the camera tracks slowly around her to reveal Puffed being addressed by an angry young man clad in white dress shirt and black bow tie, vest, and pants. He has drawn “gofer” duty.)
Gofer: Your lousy golf cart broke down on me for the last time! Find someone else to deliver churros backstage to Post Crush, because I quit!
(As he finishes, he pulls a key ring from his pocket and throws it down, the camera cutting to a close-up—churro-shaped. He storms off, Puffed scowling after him and Pinkie/Sunset exchanging freshly bewildered looks. Wipe to the two girls laughing and riding their tandem bike through the grounds, positioned and helmeted as before. Pinkie now stands up from the rear seat, and a double order of churros rests in the basket mounted up front. Close-up of her.)
Pinkie: See what happens when you embrace the chaos of our friendship? (Pan to Sunset.)
Sunset: This couldn’t happen with all of the mission planning in the world.
(They slew to a stop near a tour bus that can only belong to Post Crush—glittery purple paint job, yellow stripe wrapping around the perimeter under the windows, contoured lettering within a stylized blue/pink hair bow on one side , heart-shaped lights above the windshield. Sunset removes her helmet.)
Pinkie: Ooh, I hope they like us! You must have met them on one of the other days. Tell me what happens!
Sunset: (laughing) Nope. First time. (thumping Pinkie’s back gently) And I’m glad it’s with the other half of my dynamic duo. You ready?
(She retrieves one carton from the basket and holds it out. Cut to a close-up of the bus’s closed door as she reaches up into view and knocks, then to just inside. Kiwi’s hand pushes it open to frame the two new gofers, Pinkie offering the churros and no longer wearing her helmet.)
Sunset: Special delivery!
Pinkie: We are huge, huge, ginormous fans! (Supernova joins Kiwi at the door.)
Supernova: (to Kiwi, suspiciously) Heeeey. The usual delivery guy looks like two girls today.
(This comment draws an irked glance and an elbow in the ribs from her bandmate.)
Supernova: (trying to play it off) I mean, today is the first time we have done this. Yesterday was, um, a different day.
(Kiwi puts a hand to her face as if to say “is that really the best you can do?” Sunset’s grin begins to show a bit of strain, but Pinkie’s remains as bright as ever.)
Sunset: Today can be a funny thing.
Kiwi: (scoffing; she and Supernova step off bus) Word. Thanks for being fans, but we gotta, you know, get onstage.
Pinkie: (half-hiding behind Sunset) Of course! We don’t want to keep you. (aside, impatiently) Come on, Sunset!
(The flame-haired teen shakes loose and smiles again.)
Sunset: Uh, but before you go on— (extending a hand) —at least give me the honor of shaking your hand—
(Cut to the duo with backs turned, framing Kiwi from behind for the first time. The Twirler is attached to the knot of her hair bow, its central eye closed. They are walking away, but stop and turn at the next words.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) —as a thank-you for all your music and— (All four again; she inches closer.) —anything else you might have done to me— (catching herself) —I mean, for me.
Kiwi: (smiling, offering a hand) Anything for a fan.
(The two sets of fingers curl around each other, the screen flaring white and clearing to present a flashback of the pop star’s memories playing in the former unicorn’s mind. It is nighttime, and Kiwi and Supernova are crossing a bridge over a stream. All spoken lines in this sequence echo slightly.)
Kiwi: Tomorrow has to be perfect! We’ve only got one shot at this! (Faint pulses of light play across them, emanating from ground level.)
Supernova: Ugh! As if I’m not super-duper aware, K-Lo!
(Four eyes turn toward the source, which proves to be the Twirler lying on the stones of the path. Both kneel over the item, Kiwi scooping it up tentatively.)
Supernova: Oooooh!
(The eye opens and goes blinding white, filling the screen with its energy. This subsides to put them in the main stage, instruments at the ready.)
Repeat of Act Two song
Kiwi: (muted) Yeah
(A quick drum fill, and they have begun their set.)
Post Crush: Be the true, true, true original
(A guitar string snaps; Kiwi scowls and taps the horn of the Twirler, now mounted on her bow. It activates and resets the scene.)
Dare to be what you are meant to be
Working hard, that’s our thing
(A punctured bass drum head on Supernova’s kit prompts another reboot.)
All this way, we’re perfect, perfectly true
(Flash from one slow-motion blooper to the next: broken drumstick…dropped guitar pick…sneeze by Supernova…broken heel on Kiwi’s sandal.)
True, true original
True, true original
(A close-up of the activated Twirler slides in to replace this last; its flare clears to show them having finished the song and taking bows as the audience cheers.)
Song fades out
(The smiles fade as Kiwi wheels toward Supernova.)
Kiwi: (viciously) Ugh! Your voice, so flat. (Scoff.) I can’t.
Supernova: (groaning) Whatever! We can just do it all over again.
(Cue another use of the artifact, followed by a swirl of color that brings the action back to the here and now. Sunset lets go of Kiwi and stumbles back with a horrified gasp.)
Sunset: You found the Time Twirler! You’re the ones causing the time loop! (Pinkie drops the churros she holds and claps hands to mouth.)
Supernova: Pause. How did you see my brain?
Kiwi: We’re gonna loop our show ’til it’s perfect! A fangirl like you wouldn’t get it.
Supernova: Unless you’re such a fangirl, you do get it.
Kiwi: (dismissively, to her) You know fans can never get it.
Sunset: But I do. I wanted things to go perfectly, too, but now I know they never do.
Supernova: Then we stop “never”!
Kiwi: (smugly, pacing) And now that we know you’re in on our little secret, you’ll never set foot inside this festival again.
Sunset: Go ahead. Take our pictures and hang them up. Tomorrow morning they’ll all disappear.
Kiwi: Ever heard of drawings? (Supernova pushes past the two Wondercolts.)
Sunset: Everything resets!
Supernova: You don’t, and neither do we. Now that I’ve seen your faces… (Pull out a sheet of paper; draw furiously, using Kiwi’s back as a table.) …I’m an art school dropout, and you better believe I can draw your faces so good, guards will ban you at the gate from now until forever!
(Cut to the gobsmacked teens on the end of this, the pen flashing across the sheet in the fore, then back to her as she finishes. What she holds up is a crude, brightly colored caricature of the pair, a malicious smile on Pinkie’s face and a rancorous frown on Sunset’s.)
Kiwi: Forever-ever!
Pinkie: (anguished, grabbing at Sunset) No! (Supernova shifts it behind her back.)
Kiwi: Yeah, she can.
Supernova: (nodding) Mmm-hmm. (calling o.s., pointing at Pinkie/Sunset) Security! We got a Code Chartreuse crazy fan alert!
(Two familiar legs step into view, and the “crazy fans” turn to find everyone’s favorite guard right behind them. They trade fearful looks before the view cuts to them being shoved out the exit door and into the nighttime periphery of the grounds. Their wristbands have been cut away.)
Sunset: How are you gonna let anyone in if you keep kicking people out?
(The end of this line is muffled somewhat by the door being slammed in her face, but her words touch off a pang of regret in the brain under the buzz cut. Cut to Pinkie and Sunset.)
Sunset: (hands to head) Tonight is my last chance to stop this before I get banned for life!
(Snap to black.)
Act Six
(Opening shot: snap to the starry night sky and tilt down to stop on the pair, Sunset pacing nervously.)
Sunset: (sighing) Think fast, Sunset. Come on, think! (Pause; point here and there toward the trees.) Okay…if we climb up this tree, attach a rope there, and swing over and… (deflating, sighing) …who am I kidding? (She crumples to the ground in a heap.) I’m done for.
(Now she goes the rest of the way, flopping onto her back, and Pinkie sits alongside.)
Pinkie: At least we’ll be together.
Sunset: You know what? (smiling) That actually makes being trapped at an eternal music festival seem not half bad.
(A blush tinges the pink cheeks, and its owner settles onto her back with a contented sigh. She adds a second one after sniffing at the air, then brightens upon running a little more of it through her nose. A churro protrudes from one of Sunset’s jacket pockets, perhaps dislodged in her flop.)
Pinkie: What’s that smell? (Still more; then she sits up.) Could it be?
(Blue eyes flick toward the pocket, sparking a gasp; close-up of it and the tough treat.)
Pinkie: (from o.s., plucking it away) Puffed Pastry’s exclusive star-crusted, cinnamon-dipped churros! (Back to her on the end of this; both stand up.)
Sunset: Oh, yeah. Um, it was a little too…inedible for my taste.
(All four eyes turn to it, then to the door as a double brainstorm strikes.)
Pinkie, Sunset: Like eating a crowbar!
Pinkie: (whispering, waggling it) Churros is magic [sic].
(They cross to the door and she raises it for a strike against the lock. Before she can bring it down, the guard throws the door open, knocking them back.)
Guard: (pointing) Hey! You two!
(Terrified, they clutch at each other; extreme close-up of their reflections in the lenses of his sunglasses.)
Guard: I remember you.
Sunset: You do? (Zoom out quickly to frame all three.)
Guard: Yeah. You respected my security line earlier today. So many of these kids just don’t get it. (Pinkie and Sunset break apart with hasty smiles.)
Pinkie: (nodding) We get it!
Guard: So I thought, “Hey, self, these gals aren’t crazy fans, they’re just fans. And they didn’t do anything…illegal.” (Pinkie hides the churro behind her back.)
Pinkie: Weren’t about to, either!
Guard: You’re just big fans of Post Crush. And since security is all about karma, I thought it’s only right you should be able to see the show.
(This line is punctuated by a brief cut to and from the interrupted burglars, who are having quite a bit of trouble working it through their mental machinery. He ends with a gesture toward the open door, the girls responding with grateful smiles.)
Sunset: Mister, you are the best security guard ever!
Guard: (bashfully) Aw, gosh. Heh. (waving them on) Go on in!
(They do so; cut to them on the run across the grounds.)
Sunset: Final mission—get the Time Twirler from K-Lo’s hair and turn it…twirl it off or…ugh, make it not work anymore. (She jams on the brakes; Pinkie keeps running.) Wait! (Pinkie stops and turns to her.)
Pinkie: What’s wrong?
Sunset: It’s just that…I’ve already seen Post Crush. But if we break the time loop right now, you won’t.
(Cut to a dismayed Pinkie on these last two words, then back to Sunset.)
Sunset: We’re running Post Crush’s only reunion show.
(A pink hand finds its way to her shoulder, accompanied by a scoff from its o.s. owner; zoom out to frame both as the other one finds its mark.)
Pinkie: Are you kidding? They trapped my best friend at a super-fun music festival without me for weeks! They are so going down!
(The view contracts to a horizontal bar centered on her face as she finishes. From here, cut in to a fullscreen overhead shot of the stage, set up and lit for the Post Crush show, and tilt down slowly. A dissolve shifts the view to the area underneath the stage, where the musicians are doing a final bit of stretching and primping. Kiwi stands on the platform that will lift them up, while Supernova stands just off one edge; close-up of the latter.)
Supernova: (sighing, closing makeup compact) I’m getting tired of living the same day over and over. Can this please be our last performance? (Kiwi rounds on her.)
Kiwi: (scoffing) We’ve been over this, Su-Z. We don’t stop until we get it perfect.
(A rumbling from o.s. draws their attention away from the spat; cut to a closed door, bright pink light spilling in around the frame before an explosion blasts it open. Pinkie and Sunset enter, the scorch marks on the door’s outer surface pointing to the former’s use of a magically charged sweet to blow the lock.)
Pinkie: Sorry to interrupt, buuuut…
Sunset: …you have something that doesn’t belong to you.
(Kiwi and Supernova gasp, the latter dropping her compact; both now stand beyond the platform edge opposite these two.)
Supernova: Who let you two back in?
Sunset: Give us the Time Twirler, now!
Kiwi: You wouldn’t dare. (Slow pan.) If you were real fans, you’d want this show to be perfect.
Sunset: Eh, nothing’s perfect. Right, Pinkie Pie?
Pinkie: Yep!
(A bit of fumbling around in her hair, and she has procured that tooth-buster of a churro and hooked both thumbs under opposite ends to try and bend it. Cut to the incensed/bemused popsters as her straining grunts give way to the sound of a clank, then back to an extreme close-up of the savagely triumphant pink face.)
Pinkie: (lifting/throwing churro, now bent at an angle) You just gotta make the best with what you got!
(It sails over the duo’s heads, doubles back like a boomerang, and scores a direct hit on Kiwi’s bow to stick there. The impact dislodges the Twirler, sending it into a high, tight arc, and she yanks the churro loose and throws it down with a growl as Supernova charges across the enclosure. Pinkie snatches the artifact out of the air, only to lose her hold when a yelling Supernova nails her with a flying tackle. It winds up in a tug-of-war between Sunset and Kiwi.)
Kiwi: Give it back!
(She begins to lose ground, the sandaled feet catching on a loose cable, and both tumble to the floor as the Twirler squirts loose. It bounces off a speaker, then a microphone stand, and falls into the open tray of a two-tray compact disc unit. This one slides shut, followed by the other one opening to eject it onto the center of the platform in close-up. Zoom out to frame the four combatants tumbled at the far wall; once they get their wits back, dirty looks flash from one to another and all throw themselves toward the Twirler in a whole new battle royal. On the start of the next line, cut to the stage with its backdrop lit, then to the opening hatch as the four are lifted into view, still fighting tooth and nail amid the spilling, sparkly mist.)
Announcer: Let me hear three big cheers for the two best friends who got back together for one incredible night… (The pink hearts radiate across the backdrop.) …POST CRUUUSH!!
(They freeze in mid-grapple, realizing that every eye is upon them now, and stunned murmurs ripple through the audience from front row to back. Sunset is first to snap back to herself, and she takes advantage of the distraction to slap the Twirler from Supernova’s hand. It clatters to the stage, and she lets her feet do the talking by bringing one hiking boot down to crush it into junk. Pink light spills out around the thick rubber sole, intensifying into a shock wave that shakes the stage and everyone on or near it as it washes outward. The four girls watch dumbstruck as the last motes of light from the detonation rain down around them. Kiwi recovers her voice first with a choked sob; cut to a close-up of the smashed Twirler as she drops to her knees, framed from the waist down. Teardrops fall into view from above, the camera tilting up to frame her face and running makeup as she speaks.)
Kiwi: Our legacy is…destroyed! Everything was riding on this show, and you ruined it!
(The full-throated cheers coming her way from the direction of the audience provide a marked contrast to her assessment of the situation. Mixed in is a steadily growing chant of “Post Crush! Post Crush!”)
Sunset: Are you sure about that?
(Kiwi mulls it over, as do both Pinkie and Supernova standing off to one side. The party planner smiles and pushes the drummer forward just a bit so she too can take it in; cut to behind the four, tilting up slowly, then to the clamoring crowd, then back to Sunset and a wondering Kiwi.)
Sunset: Your fans don’t want perfection. They just want to see you rocking out and having fun. Sometimes the flaws and silly mistakes are what makes the experience perfect. (arm across Pinkie’s shoulders) That’s the best part about seeing live music—and it’s the best part of being friends.
Kiwi: (softly) Hmph. We did used to have a lot of fun. (Supernova kneels next to her.)
Supernova: Guess we got so wrapped up in the pressure to be perfect…
Kiwi: …we forgot.
Sunset: So what do you say?
Kiwi: (smiling, wiping eyes) I don’t know. This one’s for real.
Supernova: (sighing happily, taking her hand) Let’s do it, then. For real. (touching her cheek) It’ll be you and me, just like old times. (They rest their foreheads together.) Whatever happens, happens.
(Fade to black.)
Electronic percussion rhythm, same tempo as Act Two song
(Spotlights in varied colors flick on and off against the lightless background, followed by a cut to the pulsing fixtures above the stage and a zoom in on Kiwi. She and Supernova are ready to play, and she turns away from the backdrop to face the crowd without touching the strings as Supernova puts her sticks to work.)
Synthesizer melody; acoustic percussion sneaks in (A major)
Kiwi: Always first place, never second best
Only high stakes, we aim to impress
And there’s no room for mistakes
Yeah, we’re flawless every day ’cause
Post Crush: We’re all about perfection
Projecting that pure reflection
Percussion builds
(Kiwi begins to play.)
Exceeding your expectations
A cappella
Kiwi: (muted) Yeah
Guitar/synth/acoustic percussion take over, as in Act Two song
(Supernova plays her drum fill to kick it off properly, while Pinkie and Sunset dance off to one side of the stage.)
Post Crush: Be the true, true, true original
Dare to be what you are meant to be
Working hard, that’s our thing
(Supernova boots a snare drum on its stand over to Pinkie, and Kiwi whips out a spare guitar which she throws to Sunset.)
All this way, we’re perfect, perfectly true
(The newly drafted backup guitarist hits a power chord that sends a wave of light over the scene as Pinkie retrieves a pair of sticks from her hair.)
True, true original
(Twilight, Fluttershy, and Rainbow join the crowd and are elated to see their friends onstage.)
True, true original
True, true original
(Pinkie twirls one stick.)
Post Crush, Pinkie, Sunset: We’re perfect, perfectly true
Half-time feel; background lyrics in square brackets
(Dissolve to the two Wondercolts riding their tandem bike across the grounds in Act Five.)
Kiwi: Oh-h, oh-h [True original], oh-h, oh-h
(They marvel at the lights within the Neon Garden.)
Oh-h, oh-h [Hey, hey]
(They cheerfully let themselves be bombarded with paint, then go for the photo booth.) [We’re perfect, perfect] Oh-h, oh-h [True original], oh-h, oh-h [Hey]
(The camera flash shifts the view back to the stage in the present.)
Oh-h, oh-h
Half-time feel ends; muted synth chords only
(She moves aside to give the camera a clear view of the mixing board; Pinkie stands in front with the drum/sticks, while Sunset sits on the edge with the guitar. Zoom in slowly.)
Pinkie, Sunset: But it’s not about perfection
Set off in your own direction
Shake off the expectations
Silence for four beats
(Sunset pivots away from her to Kiwi so they can play a chord in unison to continue the song, including both drummers.)
Full instrumentation in
Post Crush, Pinkie, Sunset: You’re the true, true, true original
[Yeah, yeah] Dare to be who you are meant to be
(Now all five of the other Rainbooms have joined the party. Pinkie stops playing, extracts several cupcakes from her hair, and throws them upward after a magic charge. The resulting blasts create a colorful pyrotechnic display.)
Free yourself, do your thing
All your way, you’re perfect and perfectly you
(Kiwi slides to the edge of the stage on her knees.)
True, true original [True original, hey]
(She stands again and plays back to back with Sunset.)
True, true original
True, true original
A cappella
You’re perfect and perfectly you
Song ends
(Cheers and applause ring through the night as she throws her guitar pick back over her shoulder. Up and up toward the lighting it goes, then down to land in Sunset’s waiting hand. Pinkie is a bit slower on the draw, but Sunset lets her have the prize with a smile as “Post Crush!” chants start up among the spectators and the camera stays on them.)
Sunset: I think we just played Starswirled!
Supernova: (from o.s.) Yeah, you did!
(Cut to her, now standing away from her kit and bowing, and Kiwi.)
Kiwi: (both beckoning them over) Get over here and take a photo with us! (Pinkie and Sunset hustle across and all four cluster in.)
Sunset: Now this is a perfect moment.
(She pulls out her phone and aims it at the impromptu quartet; cut to its camera-eye perspective of the beaming faces. Pinkie has time for one squealing laugh before the flash fills the screen.)
(Fade in to the sun in a clear blue morning sky above the treetops and cut to a close-up of Sunset’s phone on her pillow. Its alarm goes off, using the same sound clip as before but now displaying the new picture, and the pajama-clad owner wakes in her bunk to shut it off with a drowsy grin. A beefy snore drifts up from floor level; the source proves to be Pinkie when Sunset peeks down that way. She too is in her pajamas, and she drools a bit, sprawled out every which way across her sleeping bag.)
Pinkie: (mumbling in sleep) …churro, num-num-num…
Sunset: (loudly, exuberantly) Starswirled, day two!
(The human dynamo sits up with a gasp, sleepy puffiness instantly disappearing from her eyes.)
Pinkie: (pumping fists) YES!
(Longer shot; the other Rainbooms have cleared out.)
Pinkie: (jumping/cartwheeling/springing about) We did it! Ha-ha! Woo-hoo! (She hops up to sit next to Sunset.) What do you want to do today, Sunset?
Sunset: Whatever the day brings us. (rolling eyes) Yesterday was the longest three weeks of my life!
(Both laugh as the view begins fading to black.)
Pinkie: (fading out, as the transition finishes) Yeah, I guess it would’ve been!
MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS
Digital Series—Volume Four
Unless otherwise noted, production credits for all shorts are as follows:
Produced by Angela Belyea, Colleen McAllister
Directed by Ishi Rudell, Katrina Hadley
(Writing/story editing credits are listed on each individual transcript)
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Notes: 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.
The CYOE transcripts were originally prepared from sources available on Dailymotion, which were edited to attach an ending directly to the end of the opening segment. As such, I have extrapolated details from earlier shorts; I will revise them as they are uploaded to the official My Little Pony YouTube channel.
“Wake-Up!” through “The Road Less Scheduled” and “Let It Rain” take place at the music festival seen or referred to in “Camping Must Haves” through “Find the Magic” (see Volume Three). This event is identified as the Starswirled Music Festival in “Sunset’s Backstage Pass.” Refer to these two sets of transcripts for details on the arrangement of the grounds and the girls’ outfits.
Background song lyrics are in square brackets..
“Wake-Up!” (CYOE)
Written by Kate Leth; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an overhead shot of Rarity’s motor home as first seen in “Camping Must Haves.” It is parked on the campground set up for attendees of the Starswirled Music Festival as in “Sunset’s Backstage Pass,” and she, Twilight Sparkle, and Rainbow Dash are sitting on the stumps that form a ring in the nearby grass. All three are fully dressed but barely conscious—the morning has just begun—and the camera zooms in slowly before cutting to a close-up of Applejack as she emerges from the forest bordering the site, a stack of firewood balanced on one shoulder. She is dressed and wide awake.)
Applejack: Mornin’, everyone! (A hand drum rhythm is heard from o.s.) Did y’all find a way to sleep through that drum circle carryin’ on all night?
(Cut to the source of the groove—Pinkie Pie seated on a stump, also fully kitted out for the day and pattering merrily at one of two drums set before her. After a few more beats, she stops with a look of surprise.)
Pinkie: Oh! Did that keep you guys up?
(Questioning looks from Applejack and Rainbow, the latter yawning and stretching.)
Rainbow: Every last one of us.
Pinkie: (looking around herself) Hey! Where’s Sunset? (standing) Oh, I bet she’s already up and dressed and holding us stage-front spots!
(Referring to the pair’s stated intent in “Sunset’s Backstage Pass”—to see the duo Post Crush perform. Cut to an extreme close-up of an utterly zonked-out Sunset Shimmer, lying on her back in her pajamas and snoring to beat the band as a runnel of drool works its way from one corner of her mouth. A longer shot puts her in her sleeping bag on the window-side bunk she used during that special; Applejack, Pinkie, and Rainbow stand watching her, the farmer no longer toting the firewood.)
Pinkie: Oh. She’s not doing that at all.
Rainbow: That all-night was more all-nightier than she thought.
Sunset: (mumbling in sleep) Five more minutes, Princess Celestia…I don’t want to go to magic school…
Applejack: Hoo boy. If we don’t wake her up and get her brain defogged, she’ll sleep through all the fun stuff.
Pinkie: (gasping, horrified) Fun stuff’s her favorite stuff!
(All three begin pondering the situation very intently; she is the first to speak up.)
Pinkie: I got an idea!
Rainbow: I do too!
Applejack: I do three!
(Prompts for all three girls appear around the slumbering teen, and the ten-second timer from the previous CYOE shorts pops into view and begins to tick down. It fades away after reaching zero, and the view snaps to black around the prompts.)
“Choose Applejack” ending
(Fade in to Sunset, who comes to with a surprised grunt as the sleeping bag is yanked away. She rises to her knees and aims a bleary glare at Applejack, the perpetrator.)
Applejack: Come on, lazybones. (Drop the covers.) Sun’s up ahead, which means we’re already behind.
(Cut to a slow pan across the exterior of the motor home as she shoves a most unwilling Sunset into view from behind the rear end. A pile of stones rests near the front, and a shovel stands with the tip of its blade driven into the dirt.)
Applejack: (passing Sunset an armload of firewood) Can’t have a pancake breakfast without a fire pit!
Sunset: Say what, now?
Applejack: (digging) It’s just common sense. What’s the point of campin’ out if you ain’t cookin’ out? Now hup to!
(Dissolve to the sun rising over the mountains at the horizon, the sky tinged pink and gold from its emergence, and cut to Sunset lugging a stone across the grass instead of the wood Applejack gave her. Others have been placed in layers to form a circular structure with an open center—the fire pit Applejack has in mind—and she sets hers in place.)
Sunset: (short of breath) Whoo! Have you been, uh…doing stuff like this…every morning?
Applejack: (piling up wood) Of course! What, did you think room service came around settin’ up our campsite for the day?
(Sunset sits, leaning against the fire pit wall.)
Sunset: (digging a rock from behind her back) I mean, I wouldn’t put it past Rarity to bring a private chef. (smiling, tossing it away) She did fill the mini-fridge with sushi and parfaits.
Applejack: (pointing to herself) And who do you think was rollin’ all that sushi?
(Her smirk is met by a good-natured eye roll from the heavy sleeper. Dissolve to all the Rainbooms save Twilight helping themselves to pancakes out here; Spike is with them, Sunset is now dressed, and the sky has advanced past sunrise.)
Sunset: (chewing, chuckling) Mmm…
Applejack: Big Mac always says nothin’ starts the day off like a little bit of hard work. (The egghead is now out, full plate in hand.)
Twilight, Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity: (baffled) He does?
(Cut to said older brother, seated at a picnic table with coffee mug in hand.)
Big Macintosh: Ee-yup! (Sip; zoom out to put Applejack/Sunset in the fore.)
Applejack: Well, not in so many words.
(“Iris out” to black, the aperture apple-shaped and centered on Macintosh. It pauses long enough for him to tip a wink to the camera before closing entirely.)
“Choose Pinkie Pie” ending
(Snap to an an amped-up Pinkie sitting on Sunset’s bunk and zoom in slowly as the latter sits up, rubbing her eyes.)
Pinkie: Sunset, I’m so excited. This’ll be the best breakfast ever!
(The camera cuts to a closer shot of her face on each of these last three words, ending with an extreme close-up that accentuates her broad smile. A wipe shifts the scene to a food truck that specializes in bakery desserts; Sunset is now dressed and standing at the window, while Pinkie has started in on her own sizable order and Spike looks on from the ground. Zoom in slowly, then cut to the vendor’s perspective, setting down an equally formidable tray of goodies. Blue-green eyes bug out at the sight of so much sugar; back to her and Pinkie.)
Sunset: (trying to keep tray balanced; a few items fall off) Uh, are you sure these are the best things to eat first thing in the morning? (Spike gulps down a couple of dropped ones.)
Spike: Mmm!
Pinkie: Oh, of course not. (tipping goodies from her tray onto Sunset’s) We need a balanced breakfast!
(Close-up of Sunset sitting at a picnic table; her tray is now piled high enough to hide her face from view, and a mug of hot chocolate sits within easy reach.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Snowball-sprinkled cupcake waffles, jellybean beignets, and don’t forget the sugar cookie croissants!
(As she reels off this most unconventional menu, a series of dissolves shrinks the mass step by step due to Sunset eating her way down through it. Once the tray is completely empty, she swallows the last mouthful and lets out a weary sigh.)
Sunset: (picking up mug) I’m still pretty tired.
(She begins to chug it down, the camera shifting to frame Pinkie sitting alongside her at the table and having consumed everything she ordered.)
Pinkie: Give it five minutes.
(Cut to a sparkly, treat-littered “Five Minutes Later” title card, then to an extreme close-up of a very, very alert Sunset with eyes dilated so far that they nearly fill the sockets. A quick zoom out puts her, Pinkie, and Spike on the grass in front of the side stage on the festival grounds—the one on which the Dazzlings performed in “Find the Magic.” All three are cranked up due to the ingestion of mass quantities of sugar, and their behavior is drawing some very strange looks from both the acoustic guitarist on the stage and the few attendees who have turned out to hear him so early.)
Sunset: We’re on top of the world!
(Laughing, she flails madly at an imaginary guitar, while Pinkie thrashes her head about and throws the bullhorns and Spike sprints off in a random direction.)
Pinkie: (crossing to Sunset) Woo-hoo! I told you!
Sunset: I can’t feel my stomach!
Pinkie: (grabbing her around the waist) I can!
(They dissolve into a wave of giggles as Spike bounds onto the stage, rising to his hind legs and raising his front paws defiantly.)
Spike: I am a golden dog!
(A lazy half-turn, and he does a backwards dive off the stage to be caught by Snails and the girl nearest him. All four legs piston from their upside-down position; zoom out slowly as they set him down and Pinkie half-slumps against Sunset, arms still locked around her beltline.)
Sunset: Let’s never sleep, ever again! (twirling Pinkie overhead) Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
(Cut to the three gluttons crashed out in a pile on the floor of the motor home. Their three-part harmony in the key of Snore is broken off by a loud, displeased gurgle from Sunset’s gut; she rubs it with a pained, drowsy moan as Applejack and Rainbow observe with visible concern, each having procured some more appropriate breakfast fare. The jock smirks, drawing a mildly sour look from the apple grower.)
Rainbow: Poor Sunset. (Close-up of Sunset; she continues o.s.) Sugar crash.
(The yellow-orange cheeks go a queasy green; back to her and Applejack.)
Rainbow: Nobody should try to keep up with Pinkie Pie.
Applejack: Heh. Not even Pinkie Pie.
(On the end of this line, cut to a close-up of the inert pink dynamo, who has managed to continue sleeping peacefully throughout this exchange. Zoom in slowly and fade to black.)
“Choose Rainbow Dash” ending
(Snap to an extreme close-up of a slightly crazed-looking Rainbow, framed from forehead to shoulders and standing against a sky that is lightening into sunrise. She has traded her festival wear for a sleeveless blue top and is wearing her hair loose.)
Rainbow: You think your body can handle waking up Rainbow Dash style? Do you, Sunset? ’Cause guess what!
(During this line, she points at herself to show a red/yellow/blue-striped wristband, then backs off a step to reveal that she is wearing her magical stone as a pendant. The sound of a gong punctuates a cut to a longer shot, in which she and Sunset stand side by side on blankets spread across a hilltop. Sleeveless tops and tights for both—blue/blue-green for Rainbow, pink/magenta with flames on the top for Sunset; Rainbow wears a band on each wrist. Standing on one foot, both girls slowly raise their arms overhead and bring them down to press the palms together at chest level. Sunset wears a red brooch at the point where each strap of her top meets the neckline, and a closer shot of her during the following picks out one of them as the stone from her pendant.)
Rainbow: (calmly, exhaling) You’re right.
Sunset: (as both bend down to touch the blankets) Heh. You know, when you said we’d start the day with a workout, I thought it’d be way harder.
Rainbow: No way. (They shift to sit with legs crossed.) We’re taking it niiiiice and easy.
(A slight zoom out frames Sunset’s cell phone in the grass on her side. Four lungs expel a long, serene breath. As Rainbow continues, she adopts a series of yoga poses at a steadily accelerating tempo, leaving Sunset in an increasingly frantic scramble to keep pace.)
Rainbow: Okay. Let’s start with a Downward Dog…transition to Cat Pose…now Coiled Snake…Betrayed Llama…
(Cut to Fluttershy, kneeling at the bottom of the hill and petting a tranquil, light blue llama sitting on its belly. Rainbow’s last words snap it out of its reverie, and it directs an angry grumble and spit in her general direction. Back to Rainbow, who has assumed a new pose and continues her high-speed shifts; during the next line, cut back and forth between her and a desperately straining Sunset.)
Rainbow: Inverse Badger…The Undulating Parakeet…The Stranded Turtle!…Confused Lemur!…Tech-Savvy Donkey!…Horse on a Bike!
(By the time she finishes and stands up to stretch, her workout partner has very nearly tied herself in a square knot of protesting limbs.)
Sunset: (woozily, untangling herself) I’m not cut out for posing like animals doing things. (She picks up her phone and lies down to check it.)
Rainbow: Aw, come on! If you’d stayed in bed, you would have missed this!
Sunset: Missed what? The music doesn’t start for another hour.
(Cut to Rainbow, rolling her eyes with a smile, on this last. She drops to her knees and lifts Sunset’s chin away from the screen with a smug little smile.)
Sunset: (eyes widening) Whoa!
Rainbow: Sunset, meet sunrise.
(Cut to a long shot behind the pair on this line, tilting up slowly to fully frame the sun that is easing up over the distant mountains to illuminate the festival site. In close-up, it takes the red/gold-haired girl a moment to reel her jaw in; she sits cross-legged and exhales tranquilly in time with Rainbow.)
Sunset: Here’s a pose. How about… (touching Rainbow’s shoulder) …“Grateful Friend.”
(They rest their heads together as the view fades to black.)
“The Last Drop” (CYOE)
Written by Whitney Ralls; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a long shot of the darkened main stage. DJ P0N-3 is up here, standing behind a rack of turntables and speakers, and a considerable crowd has turned out to cheer for her. It is nighttime, and the camera zooms in slowly through the gathering before cutting to an extreme close-up of one control panel. Off-white fingers tap a button, magenta spotlights flick on, and a soothing synthesizer line plays as she socks her headphones firmly into place. The movement of a slider control triggers the stage’s backdrop of three huge video screens to display an animated collage of starbursts and a shooting star with a rainbow contrail, all above a bank of clouds.)
(Glow sticks are ignited and waved overhead in the audience as a muted percussion beat comes in, and a spotlight beam sweeps across the screen to change the view to a close-up of Fluttershy and Sunset, present and accounted for.)
Sunset: How awesome is it that DJ P0N-3’s playing Starswirled?
Fluttershy: So awesome! I hear she’s got an interactive surprise planned for the crowd! (Macintosh makes his way to them.)
Macintosh: (raising arms) Ee-yup!
(The turntablist continues to work her decks, the music slowly building in intensity as the glow sticks wave in rhythm, and the spotlights shift the view from one slow-motion group of revelers to another. Normal speed resumes at the end of the sequence with hands raised and clapping in time, the stars and clouds exploding across the video screens again.)
Sunset: Get ready! The beat’s about to drop!
(The groove stops dead in its tracks as DJ P0N-3 points out over the edge of the stage, a single spotlight picking out Fluttershy, Sunset, and Macintosh.)
Sunset: Uh, is this her surprise?
Fluttershy: (squeaking, terrified) I think she wants us to come onstage! (Sunset and Macintosh smile.)
Sunset: Ohhh, I get it! We are the interactive!
Macintosh: Ee-yup!
(The girl with the electric blue hair holds her pose, bobbing her head faintly as prompts for these three appear on the screen. The ten-second timer pops up with them, counts down, and fades away after doing its duty, and the view snaps to black around the prompts.)
“Choose Fluttershy” ending
(Snap to Fluttershy, Sunset, and Macintosh. The animal lover cringes mightily as if wishing she could sink through the grass and give her nerves a very long rest, but Sunset smiles and shoves her gently toward the stage. Fluttershy is up there in a trice, half-stumbling toward DJ P0N-3 and the now-blank video screens and darkened setup, but a tap at the controls brings up the spotlights and again puts her on the verge of a total freak-out. The sound system warms up again, working its way down toward a near-subsonic bass tone, as the electronic music virtuoso makes a few gestures that might translate as “get loose and get down.” Another button press starts a driving synth/percussion melody and sends images of snowy mountains and associated wildlife pulsing across the backdrop screens. A few animal noises are sprinkled in—howls, meows, tweets, and so on—and a furiously blushing Fluttershy finds that her arms are swaying from side to side in time with the mystic rhythms. Sunset and Macintosh are utterly unable to make head or tail of this soundscape, and the otherwise unflappable DJ P0N-3 finds herself at a loss when a couple of actual birds swoop down over the stage.)
(Now Fluttershy’s sneaker-clad feet begin to tap against the stage, soon joined by a cat and chicken, and the groove shifts as she begins to relax and the birds settle onto her shoulders.)
Fluttershy: (with sudden determination) The beat’s about to get wild!
(She uncorks a howl, raising her chin to the sky in profile, and the view dissolves to a close-up of a wolf doing likewise on the screens. Another such transition frames her dancing against the mountain backdrop, the small animals now gone, and further dissolves shift the images behind her. Translucent animals appear on alternating sides to add their own noises to the mix: a chicken, a dog, a cow, a horse accompanied by a flock of birds flying up from the bottom. The track ends with Fluttershy howling at the moon, backed by images of wolves following suit, and a long shot of the stage reveals that she has wound up standing on DJ P0N-3’s control board. The crowd whoops and hollers its overwhelmingly positive opinion of this three-way collaboration; after trading one last puzzled glance, Sunset and Macintosh smile as well. Only now does Fluttershy fully return to herself, casting two bemused blue-green eyes over the stage and the animals that have found their way onto it to pitch in.)
Fluttershy: Oh!
(She voices a demure little roar and a blushing giggle. Fade to black.)
“Choose Sunset Shimmer” ending
(Snap to Fluttershy, Sunset, and Macintosh; Sunset eagerly charges toward the stage and up, but skids to a stop when stars explode on the backdrop screens and fans of laser beams shine up from either side. Once she gets her brain fully back into gear, she smiles at the sight before her—a low-resolution image of herself riding a unicorn through a night sky filled with clouds and shooting stars. Lines of title text are displayed above and below, the former with wings and a horn, and a bright jingle plays as accompaniment.)
Sunset: (pulling her phone from a pocket) Want to play?
(DJ P0N-3 responds by reeling out one end of a cable and hurling it toward her. The connector slots itself neatly into a jack on Sunset’s phone, causing an image of the off-white face to appear on its screen. This is quickly replaced by the same graphics as on the backdrop—a video game title screen—and a tap by Sunset brings up the controls. By now, the backdrop has changed to present a playfield crammed with ledges, enemies, and stars to collect, along with a health meter in the top left corner that shows four hearts and a second “super” meter at top center. Two panels slide in from opposite corners to fill the screen amid a flash of lightning; Sunset is on the left, DJ P0N-3 on the right.)
Sunset: Let’s do this!
(The screen fills with a flash of white and clears to present a split screen: Sunset’s thumbs at her phone controls, opposed by the musician’s finger pressing a button. From here, the view shifts to the backdrop, accompanied by music in the same vein as the opening jingle. The super meter is now at bottom right. Sunset rides her unicorn, picking up stars that build the super meter, stomping a few enemies, and bouncing off a happy cloud. She loses one heart upon being struck by a cupcake spat from a cloud, but defeats the assailant and carries on. Contact with another enemy costs her a second heart, and a later hit by a flying saucer’s tractor beam takes the last two. The alien piloting the craft laughs and raises its arms in triumph, leaving the real Sunset stunned and perhaps a touch angry at having been bested so easily. A drop of sweat runs down one cheek as she glares at her opponent, who grins and raises one finger in silent triumph.)
(The extreme close-ups of their respective controls slide in to fill the screen again, and after both are used, the view shifts back to the game. Sunset goes on the offensive, her health meter refilled and super meter empty, and easily gets past the obstacles that cost her the first two hearts. This progress throws DJ P0N-3 for a loop; she works her controls a little faster, but Sunset’s thumbs keep pace and her digital avatar continues to advance. Instead of facing the flying saucer that wiped her out before, she hops onto a rocket that carries her higher and higher. The stars that she picks up along the way completely fill the super meter, and she jumps off at this point to land on a high ledge. The meter goes full red and she jumps off the unicorn, letting it charge ahead and assuming the winged/horned, super-powered appearance she took on to combat Midnight Sparkle in Friendship Games. She blasts one last enemy into pixels and flies up to touch a copy of her cutie mark, ending the background music and setting off a screen-filling flare of white.)
(Fade in to a close-up of the real Sunset beaming and holding her phone aloft for an ebullient crowd, and zoom out to show her standing on DJ P0N-3’s decks. Zoom out to a long shot and fade to black.)
“Choose Big Mac” ending
(Snap to Fluttershy, Sunset, and Macintosh. The two girls beam at the big guy, Sunset patting his shoulder to encourage him into a move toward the stage. He has barely climbed up before an apple-decorated banjo is thrown to him, which he very nearly fails to catch, and he can only goggle at DJ P0N-3 as she offers a “show me what you got” gesture. Glancing back toward the sea of expectant faces, Macintosh gives the strings an experimental strum and quickly launches into a cheery, reverb-enhanced bluegrass melody that sets a multicolored signal pulsing on the display set into the front of the musician’s rig. She keys in a percussion/synth line and displays of radiating apples on the backdrop, and the crowd voices its enthusiastic approval.)
Macintosh: Ee-yup!
(A strum sets off an “iris in” transition that begins at screen center, the aperture shaped as an apple. It leaves him standing and playing on a scrolling grid of yellow-orange lines, a yellow-green glow at the horizon. The melody becomes muted, but starts to build again as apple seeds fall into lines of holes to either side of him.)
Macintosh: Ee-yup!
(Trees sprout in an instant and bear fruit almost as quickly. Snap to a sepia-toned background, against which two profile drawings of his head appear with an apple between them. The left one takes a bite, annoying his counterpart.)
Left Macintosh drawing: Ee-yup!
(A rain of fruit shifts the action back to the real McCoy on the scrolling grid; the trees are gone, but rows of apples drift past on both sides as his fingers dance over the strings. Seeds fall and sprout into saplings, and one giant wire-frame apple appears behind him, traced in white. It slowly advances toward the camera, pushing him aside, and a larger image of him appears in one of the squares gridded out on the surface.)
Macintosh: (voice over) Yup.
(The music ends as this small region fills the screen, shifting the action back to the stage and framing him in close-up with the grid scrolling by on the video screen backdrop. He looks up from the banjo, confusion stenciled across every square inch of the freckled face, and offers sheepish grin and a scratch at the back of his head as a chorus of hearty cheering reaches him. Cut to a long shot of the stage and the crowd, whose members have loved every second of this unlikely mash-up. Zoom out slowly and fade to black.)
“Inclement Leather” (CYOE)
Written by Anna Christopher; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the sun in a bright morning sky. Tilt down on the next lie to frame Twilight and Applejack walking through the festival grounds.)
Applejack: (sighing contentedly) Today’s prettier than a peach pie at a picnic. It’s perfect for—
(Rarity darts up behind them, having traded the furry blue bolero jacket of her ensemble for a longer one made from more conventional material. Its lapels and hem are liberally adorned with…)
Rarity: Mauve fringe!
(Which just so happens to match the rest of the garment.)
Applejack: Oh, uh, Mauve Fringe isn’t goin’ on ’til five.
Rarity: Oh, no, no, no, no. I am referring to my Starswirl look.
(With a giddy little hum, she pivots to present all parts of the jacket to the two girls. A strong breeze begins to emanate from somewhere below the bottom edge of the screen, angled upward and focused on Rarity to get the fringes flapping.)
Rarity: Ah! A cool breeze. The ideal accessory for fringe.
(She directs a thumbs-up toward ground level; cut to the source of the air current—Spike, who is cheerfully plying a cordless hair dryer. Twilight and Applejack share a laugh until the sky abruptly darkens, taking Rarity’s mood with it; the appliance is shut off as thunder begins to rumble.)
Rarity: Wait. What’s happening?
Twilight: That’s strange. The next total umbral solar eclipse isn’t for another three hundred thousand days. (Quizzical looks from her friends; she offers a goofy smile as rain begins to fall.) And that’s obviously not what we’re talking about.
(Her giggle is lost in a round of gasps as the thunder intensifies; cut to the thickening clouds.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) Rain?!? But— (Back to the trio; Spike has cleared out, and other attendees are following suit.) —but—but—this is suede! If it gets wet, it’s ruined, and by extension the whole festival! Not to mention the rest of my life when I have to recall this devastating turn of the weather! (sobbing) Oh, why, why, why? Why did it have to drizzle?
Twilight: Well, you see, when high-pressure air meets—
Rarity: (mascara running badly) HELP ME!!
Applejack: I got an idea!
Twilight: Oh! Me too!
(The sodden fashionista just stands there like an unstrung marionette while three prompts appear around her. Two are for Twilight and Applejack, while the third is for Vignette Valencia, her boss in “Rollercoaster of Friendship.” The ten-second timer appears, counts down to zero, and fades away, and the view snaps to black behind the prompts.)
“Choose Twilight Sparkle” ending
(Snap to Twilight and Rarity standing under a tree, the latter’s runny mascara now cleaned off.)
Twilight: For the last three weeks, I’ve been brainstorming equipment to engineer in the statistically probable case of inclement weather— (Close-up.) —including but not limited to a raincoat with a water collection system, a self-drying umbrella, and detachable windshield wipers for eyeglasses.
(She demonstrates this last by holding her index fingers up in front of her own lenses and sweeping them back and forth to clear away imaginary raindrops. Zoom out to frame Rarity on the start of the next line.)
Rarity: Fabulous. Which ones did you make?
Twilight: None. (holding up a trash bag in each hand) I only brought garbage bags to help clean up.
(Rarity’s brain seizes up at the sight of them, a twitchy eye leading into a spasm of rage.)
Rarity: Do you not care about helping me?!? (An idea hits.) Wait! Twilight! Trash bags! (hugging her) You are a genius!
Twilight: I am?
(Wipe to a slow zoom in on the main stage, where a group is doing a country hoedown, and zoom in slowly. The two girls are up at the front of the small crowd, having torn holes in the bags for heads and arms and slipped them on to keep their clothes dry; the “hems” have been trimmed/knotted to resemble the fringe on Rarity’s jacket. Both whoop and cheer their high spirits, Twilight mixing her next words into such exclamations.)
Twilight: Woo-hoo! Yeah! All right! (after both have calmed down) Rain ponchos? You’re a genius!
Rarity: (laughing airily) No. We’re a genius. Plus, look. Rain ponchos… (lifting the hem of hers) …with fringe!
(She makes a tiny funny happy noise in the back of her throat. Fade to black.)
“Choose Applejack” ending
(Snap to Applejack and Rarity facing each other, the latter’s face now clean of errant makeup. They are framed from the waist up.)
Applejack: Apple family’s got a saying. “If it’s rainin’ cats and dogs, get yourself some fish and hogs.”
Rarity: Yes, that’s quite whimsical, but perhaps I’m missing some poetic nuance that explains WHY WE ARE MUCKING ABOUT IN A MUD PUDDLE!!
(A longer shot on her last two words establishes that they are indeed standing in a sizable one.)
Applejack: It means you gotta look for the silver linin’. (She plunges a hand into the mud.) Like how mud’s perfect for findin’… (A grunt, she extracts a fistful of earthworms.) …fishin’ bait.
(Rarity voices a cry of revulsion.)
Applejack: (dropping worms, standing, smearing arms) Mud’s also great for camouflage— (hushed; zoom in to a close-up) —when you need to sneak up on a pig real quiet-like.
Rarity: Whyever would anyone need to sneak up on a pig?
Applejack: (normal volume) If you have to ask, you don’t want to know.
(The aspiring designer can only raise one hopelessly puzzled eyebrow, but the farmer continues to apply the goop to her own exposed skin.)
Applejack: And I’m only talkin’ about mud on your hands, arms, neck, and— (Rarity zips over, instantly all smiles, and grabs the tanned cheeks.)
Rarity: Face!
(Dissolve to a small tent with one of its four walls removed. It is appointed with plenty of cushions and softly glowing lanterns as a relaxation spot, and Rarity has spread herself out, hung up her jacket, and covered her face with mud. Applejack stands watching, having cleaned herself off. Zoom in slowly as Twilight strolls up, keeping dry with the help of an umbrella.)
Rarity: (sighing) This mud mask is excellent for the pores. Thanks, Applejack. (The bookworm arrives and folds it up.)
Applejack: Huh. Guess there’s a silver linin’ for everyone. You sure you don’t want to go wormin’?
Rarity: (covering her eyes with cucumber slices) Entirely.
Twilight: (to Applejack, whispering) You know this doesn’t really fix her problem.
Applejack: But she looks so happy.
(Both of them regard the pale-skinned teen, stretched out on the cushions and wholly lost in this moment of stress-free joy. Fade to black.)
“Choose Vignette” ending
(Snap to Vignette, who has draped herself across a couch in the festival’s lounge tent, and zoom in slowly as she adjusts her pose and hair in preparation to take a picture of herself with her phone. It vibrates to mark an incoming call; she lies down again and taps its screen to answer.)
Rarity: (over phone) Oh, Vignette, darling, thank goodness you picked up!
(Vignette’s perspective of the phone, which now projects the caller and all the ruined glory of her soaked hair/outfit and smeared makeup.)
Rarity: My clothes are drenched, my mascara’s running, and look at my jacket!
Vignette: Forget your jacket. (Back to her.) Look at your hair! (Gasp; smile.) I love it!
(Her image recedes to the right half of the screen so that a panel framing a stunned Rarity can slide in from the left.)
Rarity: You—you do? (catching on, smiling) I mean, of course you—
Vignette: Hashtag “Rain Hair, Don’t Care.” It appears working for me had a lasting effect on your taste. (An attendant offers her a cup of coffee.) Trendsetter!
(She accepts the beverage and takes a sip while ending the call; her half of the screen blacks out, and Rarity’s expands to fill the entire view on the next line.)
Rarity: “Rain Hair, Don’t Care” is a trend? (sputtering badly) I mean, yes, of course, that’s what I do.
(She chuckles softly, then realizes that her former boss has not been on the line to hear her.)
Rarity: H-Hello?
(A defeated sigh, and she holds the phone up at arm’s length so that its camera presents her own rain-ravaged image to her on the screen.)
Rarity: (laughing shakily) I hope this works.
(The tap of one thumb snaps the picture, the camera flash filling the screen. When it subsides, the view has shifted to a slow pan across the grounds. The rain has stopped, and Bon Bon dumps a bucket of water over her own head so Lyra Heartstrings can take a picture of the end result. The mint-green girl has already soaked her own hair, as have quite a few other attendees, and more than a few phones are out to snap photos. Rarity meets up with a still-dry Applejack and Twilight, who fold up the umbrellas they have used to fend off the storm; she is still a wreck, but has pocketed her phone.)
Rarity: Oh, darlings, consider this a good lesson learned. I have truly grown as a person, embracing this catastrophe to discover an inner truth—namely, that—
(A strong gust of wind cuts her off and causes her soggy hair to fluff up into a tangled mess of curls.)
Rarity: (horrified, running off) MUST FIND HAIR DRYER!!
(Twilight and Applejack laugh over the hairstyle malfunction, and the view fades to black.)
“Lost and Pound” (CYOE)
Written by Jim Martin; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to pan through a busy area lined with food trucks during the day. Twilight, Fluttershy, and Rarity walk by, the bespectacled girl studying a map; they are closely trailed by Spike, who wears the glittery, gem-studded, purple peaked cap he got from Rarity in “Sunset’s Backstage Pass.”)
Twilight: Wow! These food trucks have such clever gimmicks! (reading) “Weak in the Cheese”…“Avocado’s Constant”…“Money for Waffles and Chicken’s Not for Free Either”… (She and Fluttershy stop.)
Fluttershy: (puzzled, reading) “Lasagna Pop”?
Twilight: Okay, most have clever names. It’s like they stopped trying after “Bye, Focaccia.”
(The sight of Flash Sentry biting into a chunk of lasagna impaled on a stick gives them pause.)
Fluttershy: Now I’ve seen everything.
Spike: (intently, darting across grass) Where’s Lasagna Pop? Where’s Lasagna—
(He does not notice the fluffy, mud-splotched violet female poodle in his path until it is too late. She wears a light blue collar marked by a pink heart, and a few flecks of glitter have been worked into her coat. The collision sends Spike tumbling to the feet of Twilight and Fluttershy with a yell; he looks up in time to catch a scared little whine from the other pooch.)
Fluttershy: (gently) Ohhh— (Rarity checks her phone worriedly.) —are you lost, little girl?
(Cut to the dog, a soft gasp floating down from the o.s. Fluttershy, then back to her and Rarity.)
Fluttershy: She needs our help.
Rarity: And— (The animal again; she continues o.s.) —perhaps a bath.
Fluttershy: (from o.s., extending a hand) Oh, come on, little one. (The dog’s perspective; she has knelt down.) We’ll help you.
(Spike puts his head up to one side, jowls frozen in a look of pure befuddlement. Back to the poodle, who pants and cocks her head in turn at the prompts for him, Fluttershy, and Rarity that appear. The ten-second timer accompanies them, winds its way to zero, and vanishes, followed by a snap to black around the prompts.)
“Choose Fluttershy” ending
(Snap to a close-up of Fluttershy lifting the wayward canine.)
[Animation goof: The mud matted into her coat suddenly disappears at this point.]
Fluttershy: How can we help you, little one?
(A touch on the stone from her pendant, mounted in its butterfly clip on her dress, causes it to flare to life. She tilts her head so the dog can whisper directly into her ear, relying on the magic to translate the tale. From here, dissolve to an open stretch of the food truck area; Fluttershy holds the dog into view, now with her collar removed, and the camera cuts to the owner—Post Crush drummer Supernova Zap, who lets go with an overjoyed squeal and scoops the dog up. A longer shot frames Twilight and Rarity here, the former holding Spike instead of her map and the latter with her phone put away. Fluttershy’s stone has gone quiet again.)
Supernova: (cooing) Thank you! (She walks off, Fluttershy waving after her. Pause.)
Rarity: Oh. That was easy.
Spike: Okay, so back to the food trucks. We could go to Wrap-Solutely! Tapas of the Morning! (jumping down, walking off; the girls stare dumbstruck after him) Forgive and Baguette! Poké Me, Poké You…Winnie the Pu-Pu Platter…Truck of the Irish…Truck of the Danish… (now o.s., fading out) …Dough or Dough Not, There Is No Coffee…
(Under this last, Twilight offers a “what are you gonna do?” smile and shrug to Rarity, who cocks an eyebrow and smiles back. Fluttershy giggles brightly as the view “irises out” to black, the aperture butterfly-shaped and centered on her face. Four white sparkles flare briefly around its perimeter as the transition finishes.)
“Choose Rarity” ending
(Snap to the muddy poodle, who yips happily and makes a beeline for Rarity, much to Fluttershy’s surprise. Rarity has pocketed her phone.)
Rarity: (sputtering, trying/failing to fend her off) Oh! No, no…hey, down! Hey…oh.
(Quite a bit of the filth has made its way onto her own person by this point.)
Rarity: Oh, I suppose you can follow me to the show, just so long as you don’t—
(She trails off into a cry of surprise as the violet ball of fluff leaps into her arms.)
Rarity: —do something like that?
(Now she gets a cheerful lick on the cheek that leaves her scrambling to get a coherent word out, dropping the animal, and trying to flee the scene all at once.)
Rarity: (bumping into people; the dog gives chase) Excuse me! Pardon!
(Twilight just stares mutely after the debacle, map no longer in hand, but Fluttershy giggles merrily.)
Fluttershy: She thinks it’s a game! (calling after Rarity, as Twilight smiles) Run, Rarity, run!
Rarity: (knocking two boys over) Pardon!
(The pursuit ranges past the lounge tent.)
Rarity: (to a few people as she passes) Love your cufflinks…Sorry, did I step on you?
(She homes in on a photo booth, currently being used by Bulk Biceps and Derpy Hooves. Each camera flash shifts the image to a freeze frame of an increasingly chaotic scene: Rarity crowding into the booth with them…the dog’s arrival prompting her to dive away and knock the two teens helter-skelter…Rarity fleeing out the opposite side of the booth, Bulk on the floor, and the dog on Derpy’s head…Derpy pitching to the floor amid Bulk’s flailing legs and a few blots of mud left by the departed Rarity and pursuer.)
(One more flash shifts the view to just inside one entrance of the Neon Garden hedge maze seen in “Sunset’s Backstage Pass.” A badly winded Rarity sprints in and around a corner, nearly losing her footing in the turn, and takes refuge within one of the expansive topiaries.)
Rarity: Phew!
(She allows herself a tentative giggle, but has to bite it back almost immediately when the violet nightmare’s nose and drooling tongue extend slowly from the dense leaves toward her cheek. Sweat begins to roll down the white face.)
Rarity: (softly, horrified) Huh?
Cut to outside the Neon Garden; she bursts out through the greenery with a shrill scream and dashes o.s., the dog knocking a hole of its own to get after her. Leaves and twigs are now matted into her hair.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) No! You don’t have to— (Another yell; cut to her, now sobbing as she runs.) —love me!
(She vaults over a string of velvet ropes and tumbles headfirst through the curtains just beyond; cut to the other side as she crashes to the floor and sits up with a woozy moan. A bark snaps her back to her senses, and she finds the relentlessly happy canine panting at her from close range and tensing to pounce. Rarity hits the deck with a cry just in time to avoid the flying tackle; cut to Supernova as the dog leaps into her grip. She is wearing a sparkly pink feather boa in addition to her usual outfit.)
Supernova: (overjoyed) Princess Thunder Guts!
(She squeals as a totally flummoxed Rarity rises to her knees and takes in the scene. Blue eyes flick between a poster on a stand, which depicts Supernova and her bandmate Kiwi Lollipop, along with the hair-bow logo that adorns the side of their tour bus, and the reunited pet and owner.)
Rarity: (stammering) Huh? (pointing to Princess Thunder Guts) You belong to Su-Z? From P…
(Cut to her perspective of Supernova and Thunder, soon joined by Kiwi.)
Rarity: …Post Crush?
(Longer shot of the area—a backstage lounge for the band and support personnel. Rarity is now standing more or less upright.)
Rarity: I… (babbling for a moment) …we’re all such big fans.
Supernova: (laughing, pointing Rarity out to others) She found my dog!
(A round of cheers for the frazzled teen.)
Supernova: Oh, how can I ever repay you?
(A moment’s pondering prompts her to remove the boa from her shoulders; cut to Rarity as it is draped around hers.)
Rarity: Oh! A genuine fashion-forward throwback feather boa! For me? (composing herself) I mean, uh, I will try and find something to go with it.
Supernova: (from o.s., holding Princess into view) Say thanks, Princess. (Big sloppy lick on Rarity’s cheek.)
Rarity: (repulsed) You’re welcome.
(“Iris out” to black, the aperture square-shaped, tilted onto one corner, and centered on her face. Four white sparkles flicker around it as it closes.)
“Choose Spike” ending
(Snap to a close-up of Princess and zoom out to frame her crossing toward Spike on the start of the next line.)
[Animation goof: She is suddenly free of mud.]
Spike: (badly unnerved) She’s coming over! Like, to me! What should I do?
(Cut to Twilight and Rarity, who trade concerned looks and then smile down at him; Twilight has stowed her map, Rarity her phone.)
Spike: (from o.s., shuddering) What should I say? (Back to him.) Oh, I know!
(Adjusting his cap, he strikes a casual pose and aims a pair of index-finger guns at the new arrival—or at least the closest equivalent he can reach with paws.)
Spike: ’Sup?
Rarity: (singsong, to Twilight) Ooh, Spike’s got a crush! (A teasing smile on the violet girl’s face.)
Spike: (indignantly) What? No, I don’t! (Princess moves close.) I-I’m—I’m just happy to help!
(His forced chuckle dies on his lips once he realizes how close she is.)
Spike: (flustered, waving, tail wagging madly) Hi. I’m Spike. Nice to feet you—I-I-I mean, meet you! (Sigh.) That wasn’t weird.
(But he gets an inviting bark from Princess and rises to all fours to follow her across the grass as the three girls smile knowingly among themselves. Twilight throws a stick, which Spike leaps to catch in his jaws, and Princess gambols in place to express her admiration. The two quickly shift their attention to barking/growling at a squirrel to scare it into a tree; now it is Spike’s turn to appreciate her artfulness. They roll through a patch of flowers, Princess coming up with one on the end of her nose that triggers a violent sneeze, and the component parts end up drifting around Spike’s face and cap. Princess’s nose is running just a bit due to her allergic reaction, but she sniffs the dribble back in and smiles apologetically. Here comes Twilight to throw the stick again; now Princess goes up for the catch, the action shifting to a slow-motion pan across her airborne form as the dainty teeth clamp onto the wood. Spike watches the catch, his eyes wide and gleaming. Normal speed resumes with her proud landing and wink to the camera.)
(Cut to Twilight and Fluttershy, seated at a table and eating bowls of ramen with chopsticks, and pan along its length. Rarity has a bowl of her own, but is more interested in snapping a photo of the food with her phone than actually eating it, and Spike and Princess have one between them. The camera zooms in slowly as the two dogs dip in and come up with opposite ends of the same noodle in their teeth. They slowly eat their way toward a meeting point, mutual attraction plain to see on both faces—and then Supernova reaches into view to scoop up the poodle.)
Supernova: (from o.s., squealing) Princess!
(The motion drags the entire noodle out of Spike’s gullet and leaves him gagging; cut to a longer shot of the area. A security guard and the acoustic guitarist from “Wake-Up!” have come along to aid in the search for the wayward pet, who has managed to gulp down the whole strand.)
Supernova: I was looking for you everywhere, little girl! (Hug.)
Spike: Aw, man! (catching himself, forcing a smile) Uh, I mean…uh, thank goodness! We’ve been looking everywhere for you. (Bafflement from both Fluttershy and Rarity.)
Rarity: We have?
Fluttershy: Uh, we have?
Supernova: I hope it wasn’t a problem.
Twilight: Not at all! (slyly) Right, Spike?
Spike: (glumly) Happy to help.
Supernova: Come on, Princess.
(She sets Princess down and walks away; the quadruped begins to follow, but pauses after a few steps and turns to glance back at Spike with a sad little whine. He heaves a heartbroken sigh from the bottom of his doggy lungs, only to get immediately snapped out of this blue funk by a great big lick on the cheek from Princess. Throwing him a happy bark, she hustles after Supernova and company; he is left blushing and giggling like a lovestruck idiot. The girls are doing their best to keep from laughing out loud, Fluttershy’s cheeks also tinged a lively pink.)
Rarity: (teasingly) Oh, yeah. He’s just “happy to help.”
(Punctuated with finger quotation marks on the last three words, and followed by giggles from the three humans at the table. “Iris out” to black, the aperture shaped like a bone and centered on Spike’s face; it pauses briefly to frame him before closing altogether.)
“Accountibilibuddies” (CYOE)
Written by Jim Martin; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to the main stage during the day. A country duo on keyboard and violin has drawn a loud, happy crowd, and Applejack begins working her way up through their ranks.)
Applejack: Almost to the front! Come on, y’all! Do the Catwalk Stomp!
(The girl nearest her takes this encouragement just a bit too seriously, bringing her heel squarely down on one booted foot with a crunch. Pinkie and Rainbow have pulled in a bit closer.)
Applejack: Yow! (Pause.) I’m okay—so long as no one else—
(She never gets to finish that sentence, as Bulk dances his way over and mashes the same appendage under one heel. The screen flashes briefly to an X-ray image of her lower leg—and the newly fractured bones in its foot—while leaving Bulk’s unaffected. From here, cut to a close-up of his broad, shirtless chest as Applejack’s scream of pain rings out loud and clear. He moves off, oblivious to the injury he has just inflicted and leaving Applejack, Pinkie, and Rainbow in view. The blonde balances on her good foot and clutches the broken one.)
Applejack: Maybe I oughta mosey outta the line of stompin’.
(The other two each lend an arm for support. Dissolve to them easing her onto a tree stump well back from the stage.)
Applejack: Y’all head back. No reason you gotta miss the up-front-ness on account of me. (Cut to Rainbow.)
Rainbow: (gesturing toward stage) Oh, we aren’t letting you miss Dirk Thistleweed and be all alone.
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Yeah! (Pan to frame her.) It’s against the Fun Times Festival Friends Partner Pal Credo to go off without an accuontibilibuddy!
Applejack: (smiling) Aw, y’all are the best. Hmmm…
(Cut to her perspective of these two, Snips strolling past behind them and sporting a floppy, gaudily striped/decorated top hat.)
Applejack: …who should I ask to come with me?
(He stops short, mildly flummoxed at these words. Back to her, weighing the issue carefully as prompts for all three materialize around her.)
Applejack: Hmmm…
(Green eyes shift from one to another behind the apple-shaped sunglass lenses. The ten-second timer appears, runs to zero, and fades out, and the view snaps to black behind the prompts.)
“Choose Pinkie Pie” ending
(Snap to Applejack and Pinkie, the latter now sitting on the grass. A third performer has joined the duo onstage to play acoustic guitar.)
Applejack: Thanks for hangin’ with me, Pinkie. (sighing gloomily) I-I’m sure we’ll find some other way to see Dirk Thistleweed…someday. (Pinkie shoots to her feet.)
Pinkie: Wait a minute. (turning Applejack’s face to her own) Today is someday! I’m gonna make sure you still get to see Dirk Thistleweed— (sneakily; zoom in slowly) —with a crazy plan that’s crazy like a fox. And it’s so “fox” that it might just work! Come on, crazy!
(She peels out in a cloud of dust, then returns after a moment’s delay at a more sedate pace.)
Pinkie: (lifting Applejack’s injured leg) Oh, right. Bad foot. Can’t run. (Drop it.) Got it!
(A second high-speed bug-out is followed by her appropriation of a wheelbarrow, the dumping of Applejack into same, and an energetic carting away of the patient. Cut to an extreme close-up of a steep uphill slope, the solitary wheel trundling up in fits and starts to the tune of Pinkie’s labored grunts and heaves, then to a most apprehensive Applejack.)
Applejack: Uh, Pinkie, it’s—it’s not a big deal. We can just go back down the hill. (Zoom out to frame both.)
Pinkie: No! You—are—seeing—Dirk—Thistleweed!
(She gains the hilltop and tips Applejack forward to the grass on the end of this, then lets the wheelbarrow topple onto its side and flops across it with an utterly spent groan. Cut to just behind Applejack’s shoulder and zoom in slowly on the stage, which she can now see clearly from one side up here, then back to her.)
Applejack: (smiling broadly) Oh, my gravy! (Soft gasp.) This is amazing! (glancing to one side) Pinkie Pie, you’re the best!
(Confusion registers on her face as the camera zooms out to show that the magenta-haired goofball is nowhere to be seen. She checks a few other angles, but comes up dry until her attention shifts back to the stage—and the added guitarist being pushed up to its edge by Pinkie.)
Pinkie: CAN YOU SEE HIM NOW, APPLEJACK?
(This can only be Dirk Thistleweed, then. A security guard seizes the opportunity to nail her with a flying tackle; both go sailing off the stage and into the crowd, but Pinkie laughs as they bounce her overhead. Applejack offers a slightly strained grin and wave at her friend’s overenthusiastic effort to make her happy, and the view snaps to black.)
“Choose Rainbow Dash” ending
(Snap to a long overhead shot of a large tent whose entrance is marked with a pair of crossed violet Band-Aids within a gold-framed white heart—a first aid station. A gold heart on a pole stands to either side of the open entrance. Zoom in slowly and cut to Applejack and Rainbow inside, the injured girl sitting on a bed.)
Rainbow: I’m gonna mix you up something my coach gave me when I tweaked my hammy during round-robin semis.
(During this line, she races away with a burst of super speed, returning with a tray loaded with various medicaments, and the camera cuts to Applejack watching uneasily as some of them are added to a mixing bowl.)
Applejack: Sounds like…sports words. (Cut to Rainbow on the start of the next line; she keeps concocting.)
Rainbow: (sighing) So this balm…o-or is it a salve? Let’s just call it a cream. (Cut to a cringing Applejack; she continues o.s.) This goop will fix anything! (Back to her.) Then, boom! Dirk Thistleweed, here we come!
(She underscores this last by stirring the bowl, throwing the spoon aside, and kicking the stool away to present the lumpy, unappetizing end product.)
Applejack: Uh… (She takes a sniff and gags softly.) A-A-Are you sure about this? It smells like bad milk—or good cheese.
Male voice: (raspy, whispering) I’d know the smell of Cure-All Ointment anywhere!
(Even so afflicted, the voice projects a noticeable Southern drawl. The speaker enters the tent on the end of this line—Dirk himself, framed from the waist up. He has pale violet skin, deep blue-violet hair, and light blue eyes. An unbuttoned, untucked work shirt in shades of brown with rolled-up sleeves covers a lighter-shaded Henley shirt, and a brown leather bracelet encircles one wrist. His arrival elicits a giddy little squeak from Rainbow.)
Applejack: (stunned, palms to cheeks) Dirk…Thistleweed?
(Now he crosses to them, showing gray pants that shade to a lighter hue at the cuffs and brown shoes.)
Dirk: I lost my voice and I’m supposed to be onstage right about now. Y’all mind if I slather my singin’ parts?
Applejack: (stammering, taking bowl from Rainbow) Uh…slather away!
(He takes it and daubs a generous portion on his throat.)
Applejack: (hushed/excited, to Rainbow) I just told Dirk Thistleweed to slather away!
Dirk: (voice gradually returning to normal) Mmm…burns so good.
Acoustic guitar chords with backing synthesizer, country feel
Slow and loose; no particular tempo (E major)
Dirk: Sometimes what you’re searchin’ for’s in the last place you look
(Applejack and Rainbow beam at him, eyes shining.)
It could be in a medical tent, you never know
I’m Dirk Thistlewee-ee-eed, that’s my real name
Song ends
(He tips a wink to the girls.)
Applejack: This is the best view of any concert ever!
Dirk: Aw, did you lose your voice too?
(He offers the bowl, not realizing that this is the way she normally speaks. Applejack is a bit taken aback, but she gives him a bashful blush and grin while applying a glob to her own throat. Fade to black.)
“Choose Snips” ending
(Snap to a long shot of Applejack and Snips sitting at a table well away from the stage and zoom in slowly. They are side by side, but turned just a few degrees to face away from one another, and he lets his short legs dangle over the edge of the bench.)
Snips: It’s kind of weird, don’t you think? Pickin’ me when both your real friends offered to be with you?
Applejack: You looked so lonely without Snails.
Snips: (angrily, removing/throwing down hat) Hmph! That name means nothing to me! (sighing regretfully) I don’t get it. I told him I lost my earplugs and then he just…abandoned me!
Applejack: (patting his shoulder) Well, at least we have each other.
Snips: (leaving table, retrieving hat) It just stinks not to have a friend around, you know?
Applejack: I-I’m sayin’—
Snips: (increasingly worked up) I’m all alone.
Applejack: I’m literally right next to you. (Cut to Snips.)
Snips: Just me, myself, and—
(A testy throat-clearing from Applejack; she shoots him a quizzical look, and he comes out of the pity party with a tentative smile.)
Snips: Y-Y-You want to be my new best friend?
Applejack: (scratching back of head) I-I’m not sure if I—
Snips: Oh, o-oh, y…I-I…I understand.
Applejack: (sighing resignedly) All right! I’ll be your best friend—
Snips: (running past her, instantly perked up) SNAILS!!
(He pulls his hat on and embraces his fellow dimwit, who has just arrived at the tables.)
Snips: You came back!
Snails: What do you mean, Snips? I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you!
(Zoom out slightly as Dirk walks up to the boys, carrying a stack of folded clothes.)
Applejack: (mind blown) Dirk Thistleweed?
Dirk: You guys know Snails? (laughing) He’s the funniest fella I ever done met!
(Cut to Applejack, stunned far beyond the capacity for speech, and back on the start of the next line.)
Dirk: (voice catching excitedly) Do the thing. Do the thing!
(“The thing” turns out to be Snails making flatulent noises by means of a hand shoved into his armpit. He, Snips, and Dirk laugh themselves silly over the old gag, the singer dropping his load of laundry, while Applejack tries and fails to make any kind of sense out of what she has just witnessed.)
Dirk: Hey, uh, considerin’ y’all’s friends with the greatest artistic genius of our generation— (Cut to the three teens; he continues o.s.) —why don’t y’all join me backstage?
(Now Applejack gets her face working again and smiles right along with the two clowns. Dissolve to a long overhead shot of the main stage and its cheering crowd and zoom in slowly. Dirk is now performing on acoustic guitar with the violinist and keyboard player seen in the opening, and Applejack, Snips, and Snails are watching from the wings—she stretched out on a couch, the two boys on their feet. Dirk winks at the trio.)
Snips: (hugging Snails) Never leave me alone again!
Applejack: (miffed, waving vainly for attention) Still right here.
(“Iris out” to black, centered on her face.)
“The Road Less Scheduled” (CYOE)
Written by Anna Christopher: story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a slow tilt down from the sky to the festival campground during the day. Bulk, Derpy, and Snips are dancing on the grass to a melody playing on a portable stereo as Twilight and Spike step into view on the start of the following. The young genius has phone in hand and is working its screen.)
Twilight: All right, Spike, my algorithmically generated festival schedule has optimized a route to see all the best bands.
(She pitches forward with a yell, having caught a foot on the boom box, and the phone goes flying to connect dead center with Bulk’s bare, sweaty chest and stick there.)
Twilight: (standing up) Oh, no!
(Plucking the device free, she holds it gingerly by one corner as if it could explode at any moment.)
Twilight: Gross!
(She and Spike hustle away; the three dancers just shrug at each other and go right back to their groove. Close-up of the befouled phone, whose screen flickers and dies in response to Twilight’s frantic taps.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) It’s not working! (Cut to her and Spike.) How are my decisions supposed to get optimized now?
Spike: You’ve stumbled onto the path less planned for! How exciting!
Twilight: (scornfully) How excruciating! Maybe I could log on to someone else’s schedule.
Spike: Oh! (Twilight shakes the phone and tries to restart it—no luck.) You mean metaphorically speaking, because we’d follow the passion of others to guide our experience?
Twilight: Hmmm…who should I follow?
(Cut to her perspective of a nearby row of food trucks, with three familiar figures visible among those ordering or milling around. One is Fluttershy, who stops and waves in the middle of an effort to carry a large tote bag without letting its weight pull her to the ground. Another is dressed in a purple sun hat, tights, and studded/buckled ankle-length boots and stands at a food truck with its back to the camera, but the long, multicolored hair gives away Principal Celestia’s presence in a heartbeat. The third is Micro Chips, whose festival attire consists of a medium blue-violet bodysuit with a gray wave-patterned belt and white accents on the front and sleeves, deep pink fingerless gloves, and dark blue ankle-length boots with white buckles; he is reading a map of the event. Twilight begins to ruminate, purple eyes shifting in turn to the prompts for these three that appear around her. The familiar timer pops into view, counts down from ten, and fades out, after which the view snaps to black around the prompts.)
“Choose Fluttershy” ending
(Snap to a row of portable toilets and zoom in slowly. Twilight stands at the door on one end and addresses it, with both Spike and Fluttershy’s bag at her feet; she has put away her ruined phone.)
Twilight: Thanks, Fluttershy, for letting me come along to…whatever this is. Aren’t we gonna miss your band?
Fluttershy: (from inside, muffled by door) Almost ready! Just taming a few last baby fly-aways.
(Twilight shrugs down at Spike in confusion; the pooch can do little better in reply.)
Fluttershy: (from inside) Tote bag, please?
(Twilight goes for the handles, but finds herself straining to get it even an inch or two off the ground before having to set it down again.)
Twilight: Yikes! (hefting it again) Whatcha got in here, osmium bricks? (Spike sniffs at the bag.)
Spike: Smells like…bones?
Twilight: You think everything smells like bones.
(The door opens and a light yellow hand reaches for it during this line. Only after the fingers have closed on the handles does Twilight fully take in the fact that their nails have been painted black; close-up of these.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Whoa! You did your nails?
(The bag is pulled in and the door closed, leaving her at a loss for a moment. As it swings open again, the camera cuts to a ground-level close-up of Fluttershy’s legs—now clad in ripped, dark gray tights and knee-high, darker boots with multiple buckles/straps. One hand tosses the bag to the turf, and she steps out after it and plants one end of a magenta staff. Tilt slowly up to frame the rest of the animal lover, who has given herself a drastic makeover. A studded black belt rides low on the hips, matching the collar at her throat, and she sports a dark gray tank top emblazoned with black bats that leaves a strip of midriff exposed. Warmers striped in two shades of blue-green cover the forearms, and one hand holds the staff—set with three pony skulls in line and a larger fourth one held in a claw-like mounting at the top end. Dark gray eyeshadow and lipstick, heavy mascara, multiple ear piercings, and pink hair teased up into an exaggerated mane. Fluttershy voices a sweet giggle, while Twilight can only stare wordlessly at her and pull in an incredulous gasp.)
Spike: I told you I smelled bones!
(The next cubicle in line opens, and out comes a massive bearded fellow in ripped jeans, boots, and a spiked jacket over a dark T-shirt. Fingerless gloves cover both hands, and a headband keeps his long hair out of his eyes.)
Big man: Brutal skulls, fellow Cruncher! (He walks off.)
Fluttershy: You too, fellow Cruncher!
(Now Twilight’s jaw hangs so far open that the entire bottom half of her face is in danger of scraping the dirt.)
Fluttershy: Oh, dear. Um, so, after we went to Equestria World, Vignette introduced me to this band, Skull Cruncher.
(Cut briefly to Twilight on the end of this line, then back.)
[Error: She is referring to the events of “Rollercoaster of Friendship,” but the park was named Equestria Land.]
Fluttershy: Yes, I know it seems brutal, but their lyrics are surprisingly poignant once you get past all the skull…crunching. (Twilight’s jaw works soundlessly; she deflates a bit.) You’re thinking I need more makeup? Or…that I’m weird. Is that it? (Twilight shakes her head clear and smiles.)
Twilight: No! I’m thinking… (raising/wiggling fingers) …I need more black nail polish!
(Fluttershy giggles softly at this, while Spike digs in the bag and comes up with a bone in his mouth.)
Fluttershy: And we haven’t even turned on the skulls!
(She rams the lower end of the staff hard into the earth, causing yellow lights to kindle in all four of its skulls as the ambient light level drops considerably. Fans of green laser beams radiate from the eyes of the topmost one, causing an awed Spike to drop the snack he has found.)
Spike: Whoa!
Twilight: Pretty! (catching herself) I mean…pretty brutal!
(She engages in a bit of highly restrained headbanging as the view fades to black.)
“Choose Celestia” ending
(Snap to a head-on close-up of Celestia, framed from chin to knees, as Twilight approaches from behind with her phone no longer in hand. More details of the administrator’s clothing can now be seen: unbuttoned, untucked purple/green/blue plaid shirt with rolled-up sleeves over a magenta T-shirt, denim shorts over the purple tights, brown belt, a gold feather strung on a cord for a necklace. Zoom out slightly as Celestia receives a sushi hand roll—seaweed rolled into a conical shape and filled with ingredients—from the food truck where she has been waiting. A green band set with a small gold crown can now be seen on her sun hat.)
Twilight: Principal Celestia?
Celestia: Twilight Sparkle! How wonderful! (She takes a bite.)
Twilight: I didn’t know you…did things.
Celestia: Oh, not just me. The whole Starswirl Squad’s here too.
(She gestures to one side, Twilight’s eyes widening in surprise as they track the motion. Cut to a ground-level view of two approaching pairs of legs and tilt up slowly to frame their owners as Vice-Principal Luna and Cranky Doodle. The math teacher is decked out in a purple track suit with a glimmering, slightly lighter shade on the jacket and yellow collar/sleeve/waist trim; heavy red/orange/yellow/blue boots; and a dark blue baseball cap turned backward. As for Celestia’s sister: purple shoes, slightly lighter pants with stars around the turned-up cuffs, still lighter sleeveless dress with pink belt and black straps, all of these items set with gold crescent moons; black ribbon at the throat; broad black/gold bracelet on one wrist. Each of them has an ice cream cone in hand, and they commence to licking as they stroll up to Twilight and Celestia; now Cranky’s cap bill is seen as magenta.)
Celestia: We’re original Starswirlers. Been coming together since the fest started back in… (to Cranky) …when was it?
(Caught flat-footed by this query, he hastily draws a hand across his throat as a silent “cut it out” message. She gets the hint and clears her throat.)
Celestia: Mr. Cranky Doodle loves his electro-pop under the stars.
(Cranky nonchalantly adjusts his cap a bit during this last, but both Twilight and Spike find themselves at a loss for words.)
Celestia: (whispering) That and the secret falafel booth.
Twilight: (excitedly) There’s a secret falafel booth? (Celestia has now disposed of her sushi.)
Celestia: Stick with me. (She pulls out a map.) We’re old-school.
Twilight: A paper schedule?
Celestia: From the OG rainforest.
(Twilight claps two horrified hands to her mouth, and Celestia quickly figures out that this comment may not have been the most appropriate and clears her throat with a wink. During all this, Luna glances to Cranky and aims a thumb behind herself, and the two sneak away.)
Celestia: (chuckling) I’m only teasing. (walking off after them) I don’t know where it’s from.
(Once Twilight gets her brain working again, she scoops up Spike and hurries after the trio. Celestia picks her way through the bushes to a different food truck and beckons for the others to follow; she has pocketed her map, and Cranky and Luna have polished off their ice cream. Here, the vendor passes Cranky a tray of food and he greedily inhales its aroma and licks his chops in close-up. This can only be the secret falafel booth. A pleading whine from ground level stops him from digging in right away; cut to Spike on the grass, adding the big sad soulful eyes for good measure. Although the decision pains Cranky somewhat, he smiles and begins tossing down morsels for the little guy to catch in his mouth and swallow in one bite. Twilight and the sisters laugh over the spectacle.)
(Cut to Celestia’s perspective as she pushes through a mass of hedges to reveal a photo booth in a clearing beyond, then cut to the group. Cranky has dispatched his falafel order, and all hustle toward the enclosure, Twilight no longer carrying Spike. Back to it, the curtain now closed; a camera flash emanates from within three times, each accompanied by the appearance of a snapshot that captures the five in a different silly pose. Next, Cranky does a breakdancing routine on a flattened cardboard box that has been laid out on the grass, to the great entertainment of the other four; Twilight records a video of the performance on her phone, while Celestia provides a beatbox accompaniment. Cranky’s attempt to spin on his back ends abruptly with the distinct crackle of dislocated joints, and Twilight and Luna hurry to get him untangled.)
(Wipe to a long shot behind the group, sitting at sunset on a hilltop that overlooks the festival site. Zoom in slowly and cut to a head-on view, Twilight petting a drowsy Spike and no longer carrying her phone.)
Twilight: (to Celestia) Thanks for teaching me so much today.
Celestia: I should have you send me letters after every music festival, telling me what you’ve learned, hmm?
Twilight: Uh…
Celestia: (chuckling) Just kidding. That would get old.
Twilight: (pulling out her phone) I could text you.
Celestia: Mmm—let’s just forget it.
(Fade to black amid a round of giggles.)
“Choose Micro Chips” ending
(Snap to Twilight and Micro walking through a busy clearing, with Spike keeping pace; she is looking at the map Micro carries and has stowed her phone.)
Twilight: Thanks for letting us tag along, Micro Chips. What’s up first?
(He passes her the sheet; she gasps and smiles almost as soon as she claps eyes on it.)
Twilight: You’re into MC Dex-FX? (rolling/pocketing it) I love MC Dex-FX! Huge fan. Huge! (Micro stops and adjusts his glasses.)
Micro: You are?
Twilight: I know everything there is to know. I even have the exact same Forty-Two-dash-Three-C effects pedal from my MC Dex-FX build-it-yourself theremin.
(She paces ahead toward the main stage on the second half of this.)
Micro: (moving to catch up) Actually, MC uses a Forty-Two-Double-Ought pre-effects mixer. (Twilight waves off the dispute.)
Twilight: Did you know the “MC” stands for “Modulated Computersounds”? One word!
Micro: It…actually…doesn’t.
Twilight: Trust me. I’ve read all her biopics, the original screenplays—
Micro: Wait. Her biopics? You think MC Dex-FX is a girl?
(She pronounces “biopics” to rhyme with “topics” and emphasizes the second syllable, while he uses the conventional “BY-oh-picks.”)
Twilight: Just because she always wears a helmet made of recycled disco balls doesn’t mean I can’t tell.
Micro: I guess we’ll see.
Twilight: (laughing scornfully, walking past him with Spike) Oh, we will see, won’t we?
(She finds a good vantage point near the front of the crowd and hoists Spike for a quick nuzzle—meaning that her attention is diverted from the stage as Micro runs up onto it. By the time she turns to face front, he has picked up a spherical helmet fitted with an antenna and is putting it on. The opaque face plate completely hides his features; a multicolored signal plays across it, bringing a cheer from the spectators and leaving Twilight completely dumbfounded.)
Twilight: (to Spike) Did you…? Is he…? (He smirks up at her.) What did…?
(The dog snickers silently to himself as the show begins. The hands of Micro—or his alter ego, MC Dex-FX—alternate between striking poses and maneuvering over the antennas of the theremin before him, generating an eerie, wavering melody over an electronic backbeat.)
Twilight: MC…Micro…Chips?
Spike: (mockingly) “Huge fan. Huge.”
(Now he lets go with that suppressed snicker, while Twilight pouts over having made such a fool of herself. Fade to black.)
“Sock It to Me” (CYOE)
Written by Jim Martin; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to the interior of an open locker in a hallway at Canterlot High School. It belongs to Rainbow, who is hunched down with only the top of her head in view and feverishly throwing things from it over her shoulder. Rarity leans concernedly into view.)
Rainbow: C-C-C-Come on! (Pinkie and Sunset arrive, the latter carrying her bag.)
Rarity: Something wrong, Rainbow Dash? (She is nearly hit by a flying medal.)
Rainbow: Yeah…
(Straightening up, she presents a white jersey to the camera in place of her everyday wear, its short sleeves yellow with blue trim.)
Rainbow: …everything!
(Cut to the hallway; framed from the knees up, she turns toward her friends to show a pair of deep blue shorts with a lighter stripe down each side.)
Rainbow: We’re playing Crystal Prep in ten minutes and I can’t find my lucky sock!
(Tilt down to floor level. Her left lower leg is dressed in a blue/yellow athletic shoe with cleats and a knee-length sock to match her shorts, while the right is entirely bare.)
Sunset: You’re not the best player on the team because of some sock.
Pinkie: Yeah! Who needs socks? (pulling a huge ball of them from her hair) Viva the Sockless Revolution!
(The mass of laundry is dumped onto Sunset’s head, from which it promptly falls to the floor. On the next line, Pinkie pulls a stray from within the magenta curls, throws it down, and runs off.)
Rainbow: (rummaging in locker) But we’ll never win the championship without it! (Cut to Rarity.)
Rarity: Well, lucky for you, your most brilliant friend has come up with a solution. (Zoom out to frame Rainbow and Sunset, both a touch bewildered.)
Rainbow: Uh…Twilight?
(Down the way, a giggly Pinkie is being chased by two students as Trixie digs in her own locker.)
Rarity: (needled, leaning into view) I mean me! (calming down) I can help. I’m brilliant.
(Bulk steps in, wearing his usual jersey/pants/cap.)
Bulk: Ha! Me too! I like helping!
Trixie: (shutting locker, crossing to them) Don’t forget the Great and Powerful Trixie!
(All three smile toward Rainbow, the magician adding a touch of smugness to her expression. Cut to the athlete and zoom in slowly.)
Rainbow: (rubbing chin) Hmmm…
(Prompts for the three volunteers appear around her, and she looks from one to another as the ten-second timer appears, counts down, and fades out. Snap to black behind the prompts.)
“Choose Rarity” ending
(Snap to Rainbow nervously pacing the floor in front of her locker and now wearing both shoes. The end of a table set with a sewing machine extends into view; it is running at full speed, and a short pan brings Rarity into view, seated behind it and wearing her tinted glasses. Her own locker is now open, putting a range of materials and supplies within easy reach. A length of glittery, two-tone purple fabric is being put under the needle.)
[Animation goof: Rainbow’s missing sock has switched to her left leg for this scene only.]
Rainbow: (shuddering, crossing to her) How’s that new lucky sock coming? What’s taking so long? (squatting/standing) Huh? Rarity? Can I have it? Can I have it? Can I have it now?
(The machine winds to a stop; a light blue hand snakes toward the fabric being run through it, but a white one slaps it away.)
Rarity: No.
Rainbow: (hands to head) Ugh!
(She storms o.s., sending back a groan as the machine kicks up again, and throws a panicked look at a wall clock mounted above the lockers. The time is just before 3:30.)
Rainbow: The game’s already started!
Rarity: (bored, stopping machine briefly) You can’t rush fashion, doll.
Rainbow: (whimpering) Come on, come on, come on…
(Her words are accompanied by a dissolve to an electronic scoreboard that displays a 2-2 tie between Canterlot High and Crystal Prep Academy. Hearty cheers drift up toward the daytime sky, and the camera cuts to Pinkie and Sunset among the crowd in the bleachers. Pinkie is gobbling popcorn from a bag, her intention fixed on the field, while Sunset no longer has her bag and looks within an inch of going to pieces then and there.)
Sunset: Oh, there’s not much time left!
Pinkie: And it’s tied! (squealing shrilly) I hate this!
(Down on the field, a soccer game is in progress. The referee—dressed in Crystal Prep colors—blows his whistle and walks toward the sidelines as Rainbow scrambles out from the school building and toward the Wondercolts’ goalie. She is now wearing two socks, but it is abundantly clear even from this distance that they do not match. Cut to a close-up of her, seen from the waist up, and tilt down to frame the “pair” in full detail on the next line. The left is standard issue, but the right is Rarity’s purple creation, studded with large gemstones in a variety of colors.)
Rainbow: (groaning) Last time I ask Rarity for help!
(Pinkie and Sunset are quite impressed, the former having gotten rid of her snack. The next two lines overlap.)
Pinkie: Woo-hoo-hoo! Now that’s a sock!
Sunset: (laughing) Whoa!
(Rainbow goes on the offensive, dribbling the ball down the field, as two Shadowbolts flank her. The action shifts to slow motion as she maneuvers, the sunlight reflecting off the sock’s embedded jewels so strongly that one opponent cries out in pain and covers her eyes. Normal speed resumes, the glare temporarily blinding two others, and she charges on to the tune of full-throated cheers from Pinkie and Sunset. Now only the Crystal Prep goalie stands in her way, and a shift to slow motion marks her kick. This time, the jewels produce a strong enough gleam to white out the screen; this subsides to show the goalie just as badly affected as the other players, and the ball sails past her. The Canterlot High score ticks up from 2 to 3, normal speed resuming, and the home squad’s supporters erupt in jubilation from top row to bottom. Rainbow’s teammates charge toward her…)
Rainbow: Aw, gee, guys. (They kneel in a tight circle around her…) I don’t deserve the credit. It was all—
(…and stand again, tossing her new sock above their heads and carrying it away with a chant of “Sock! Sock! Sock!” Rarity steps up to the baffled ace player, crossing her arms and offering an “I told you so” smile; she is no longer wearing her glasses.)
Rainbow: (smiling) I never doubted you for a second.
Rarity: (toying with her hair) That’s what I call “fashion-forward.”
Rainbow: Actually, I play left back.
Rarity: (laughing lightly) I have no idea what that means.
(Rainbow allows herself a good-natured eye roll. “Iris out” to black, centered on her face.)
“Choose Bulk Biceps” ending
(Snap to Bulk digging through a gym bag on the Canterlot High soccer field as Rainbow looks over his shoulder. It is daytime.)
Bulk: Uh, my mom hasn’t washed it since I found five bucks!
Rainbow: (dully, gagging slightly) Wow. When was that?
Bulk: Um…last Thursday…
(He triumphantly holds up a ragged old sock enveloped in a miasma of fumes.)
Bulk: …was the six-year anniversary!
(The blue jock cringes mightily at the prospect of having to actually put this horrid thing in contact with her skin. Tilt up from Bulk to Fluttershy seated in the elevated announcer’s booth; a passing bird gets a lungful of the stench and drops with a screech, and she barely manages to catch it in time. She takes a sniff, utters a strangled cry of revulsion, and pinches her nose shut. Rainbow copies the action as a passing Wondercolt teammate faints dead away from exposure.)
(Dissolve to an overhead shot of the field, on which the game is about to get underway. Pinkie and Sunset are in the stands, the latter no longer carrying her bag, and Rainbow has donned both shoes and Bulk’s sock but seems to be having real trouble keeping her wits about herself. In close-up, the referee prepares to blow his whistle, only to let it and his clipboard drop when the fumes reach him; he claps both hands to his mouth and very nearly loses his lunch on the spot. A limp hand wave serves as the signal to begin play, and the Canterlot High team advances down the field. Cut to Rainbow’s perspective of her teammates, who succumb one by one to the funk.)
Rainbow: Sorry! I know! (Back to her, cheeks going green.) Ugh! It’s not me! I-I mean, it is, but…i-it’s the sock!
(It begins to turn the stomach of one fan after another, and an increasingly frantic Rainbow goes for a shot on goal. The reek forces the Crystal Prep goalie to back off and cover her nose, and the ball strikes home in the net just before she keels over. The scoreboard ticks up a goal for Canterlot High, leaving the score at 3-2 in their favor, and cheers break out in the stands among the spectators who have not passed out. Pinkie has a clothespin on her nose, while all others—including Sunset—have pinched theirs shut. On the field, the teammates of a thoroughly confused Rainbow swarm toward her for an intended celebration, but run off gagging in disgust. Bulk crosses to her as she strips off the borrowed sock.)
Rainbow: Your socks work, Bulk!
Bulk: No, it doesn’t. Made it all up. (Cut to her, he continues o.s., wrapping his hands around hers.) The real luck was inside you all along. (Back to him, stepping back.) I just wanted to teach you a lesson about self-confidence.
Rainbow: Wow, Bulk. Guess there’s more to you than I realized.
(The fumes overcome her at long last, and she manages a soft retch before collapsing backwards to be caught under the arms by the big lug. He gives the camera a knowing little smile over her delirious mumbling, and the view fades to black.)
“Choose Trixie” ending
(Snap to Rainbow and Trixie walking down the sidelines of the soccer field. Rainbow is still half-barefoot and carrying her right shoe.)
Rainbow: (sighing with relief, sitting on a bench) Thanks, Trixie. You really have a lucky sock that I can borrow?
(The girl with the gargantuan ego produces a black top hat from nowhere.)
Trixie: This magic hat contains my most powerful magic items. (mumbling, pulling out one sock at a time) Regular sock…ooh, unlucky sock…oh! Presto!
(Each one is long, a different color, and covered with stars; the first two are thrown aside, while the third is held grandly aloft. Cut to a profile close-up of Rainbow as it is thrust toward her.)
Trixie: (from o.s.) A lucky sock! (Rainbow takes it and smiles; zoom out to frame a mildly chagrined Trixie.) This is also my laundry bag.
(She voices a tiny little giggle, but Rainbow becomes a trifle uneasy at the revelation. Cut to an overhead shot of the field and bleachers; she runs on and takes her position with almost no time to spare before the whistle blows to start the game. Canterlot High goes on offense, Rainbow receiving a pass from her teammate but soon finding herself in traffic from the Shadowbolts. With no warning, the borrowed sock gleams on its own and seems to take control of Rainbow’s right leg; she yells in fright and surprise as the limb swings from side to side.)
Rainbow: (kicking ball away, veering after it) What…is…happening?!?
(Cut to Pinkie and Sunset, both on edge and watching from the bleachers. They glance off to one side, the camera panning slightly to frame a smug Trixie sitting a few feet down. Realizing that she is on the receiving end of some unwelcome scrutiny, the performer quickly averts her eyes in her best wordless “who, me?” Down on the field, Rainbow finds herself at the mercy of the sock’s enchantment, popping the ball up over her own head and then doing a twisting somersault to blast it toward the Crystal Prep end. The goalie steels herself to block the shot, but survival instincts kick in at the last possible second and she hits the dirt. Only after the ball has rocketed into the net does she dare to raise her head, glasses knocked askew. The scoreboard registers a goal for Canterlot High, putting the score at 3-2 in their favor, and Wondercolt fans in the stands break out in exuberant cheers as Rainbow tosses her right shoe aside and yanks off Trixie’s sock. A reach inside, and she finds herself even more confounded upon pulling out a small gray rabbit. The sock is dropped to the grass.)
Rainbow: (stammering, holding rabbit at arm’s length) Uh…Fluttershy?
(“Iris out” to black, centered on the animal. The aperture pauses long enough for it to voice a squeaky little laugh before closing entirely.)
“Tip Toppings” (CYOE)
Written by Katie Chilson; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to the exterior of a frozen yogurt shop on a street in Canterlot. Pinkie walks up to the door; inside, she opens it and stands happily regarding the place for a moment before zipping in. Close-up.)
Pinkie: (singsong) Guess who’s got pink hair and is ready for some frozen yogurt!
(Zoom out quickly to frame two such girls ahead of her in line, who beam and wave to her—one of them being Fleur. A bewildered, somewhat deflated Pinkie stares as they move ahead.)
Pinkie: All right, but I’m going after you!
(A receipt printer on the front counter cranks out a slip, which is torn loose and handed over to the girl ahead of Pinkie. The cashier on duty is a girl with pigtailed hair in two shades of green, heavy glasses, and a set of braces attached to a wire harness that encircles her entire head at mouth level. The equipment leaves her with a pronounced lisp and spray of saliva when she speaks.)
Cashier: Congratulations! You’re our one-thousandth customer— (winking, holding up a coupon) —which means you get one free topping!
(The announcement leaves Pinkie so stunned that she has to shake her head clear, after which she uncorks an ecstatic gasp and takes the prize.)
Pinkie: This is the best day EVER!!
(She moves to a row of self-serve machines almost faster than thought and is quickly filling a cup with one flavor after another.)
Pinkie: (giddily) And now for the perfect topping!
(She finds before her a dizzying range of delectable condiments—fruits, nuts, candies, syrups—all ready to be dipped out and added to frozen yogurt. Blue eyes shrink to points as she looks from end to end, unable to do more than voice a blissful shudder that turns into a giggle so high-pitched it could almost double as a dog whistle. Glee quickly gives way to panic, though.)
Pinkie: There’s too many to choose from! What do I do?!?
(Comes now the sound of the door opening and the attached bell jingling; pan quickly to Twilight, Applejack, and Fluttershy at the entrance. The first two girls step in, but the glass doors close before the third can follow with the small menagerie of cute critters she is carrying in her hands and on her head. Pinkie throws herself to the floor before them, frozen yogurt cup held pleadingly.)
Pinkie: Would one of you please help me pick the perfect frozen yogurt topping?!? (Next two lines overlap.)
Twilight: Sure!
Applejack: Sounds dandy!
Fluttershy: (muffled by glass) Oh, um, don’t pick me because I’m animal-sitting and they’re not allowed in the store.
(The prone Pinkie ponders the prompts for the three girls that appear around her, the usual ten-second timer appearing, ticking down, and fading away. Following this, the view snaps to black around the prompts.)
“Choose Twilight Sparkle” ending
(Snap to Twilight and Pinkie walking through the shop, the former with notebook and pen in hand.)
Twilight: If I’m gonna help you choose the perfect topping, we’ve gotta do it methodically—
(Zoom out slightly; they have stopped at a table set with small paper cups full of samples from the topping bar.)
Twilight: —which is why…
(Pinkie beams at the bonanza; cut to her perspective, reaching toward one specimen.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Wait! (The hand freezes; back to the pair.) We need to log our observations as we sample.
(A decidedly strained grin makes its way onto the pink face, and drops of sweat begin to roll down the forehead.)
Twilight: (picking up one cup) Now, cinnamon candies are spicy and sweet, but may not blend well with a fruity yogurt. (The table; she returns it and continues o.s., holding up another for Pinkie’s consideration.) Chocolate chips or syrup would complement a fruit yogurt nicely.
(On the start of the next line, zoom out to frame the analytical teen. Pinkie’s face shifts slowly through increasing degrees of alarm.)
Twilight: (swapping it for others in turn) If we go with a chocolate or vanilla base, nuts would be the perfect crunchy treat. Individual sprinkles display a startling variance from the mean.
Pinkie: Twilight!
(This outburst fails to shake Twilight out of her research reverie for longer than a fraction of a second. Cut to her perspective as she draws a graph on one page of her notebook.)
Twilight: Done. (The pair again.) According to my calculations, the perfect topping is… (Close-up of the samples; she continues o.s. and taps one with her pen.) …chocolate-covered walnuts. (The pair again.)
Pinkie: Woo-hoo! (pouring them onto her yogurt) Now let’s eat!
(Both faces go slack with shock, and a close-up of the snack discloses the reason—the frozen treat has melted into a multicolored soup that is dribbling over the sides of the cup. They stare down at it, then each other; cut to the front counter, Twilight approaching the cashier with a sheepish little smile. She is no longer carrying her notebook and pen.)
Twilight: Uh, we’re gonna need another sample cup.
Pinkie: (from o.s., laughing) Mmm! The chocolate-covered walnuts were the right choice!
(Twilight turns away from the counter and finds her friend slurping down the sugary semi-liquid directly from the cup, leaving smears around her lips.)
Pinkie: Ahh! (Applejack, seated across the room, grimaces at this bit of gluttony.)
Twilight: (brightly) Never mind!
(She giggles as Pinkie licks part of the mess off her face. Snap to black.)
“Choose Applejack” ending
(Snap to Applejack and Pinkie stepping up to the topping bar.)
Applejack: If it were up to me, I’d go for somethin’ fresh and sweet, like…
Pinkie: Candy? (She licks her chops.)
Applejack: Fruit!
Pinkie: Oh! I thought you were gonna say… (greedily, scooping from one container with her spoon) …ca-a-a-a-andy. (Applejack swipes it.)
Applejack: Candy ain’t fresh!
Pinkie: Yeah, but it’s candy.
(One hand extracts a spare spoon from the magenta curls and picks up a load of chocolate bits, but again Applejack makes a lightning-fast steal, scattering the contents everywhere.)
Applejack: Just think about it.
(Pinkie brings out a third spoon, fills it, and gets it snatched away.)
Applejack: (winking) Fresh fruit is a burst of flavor in every bite.
(Pinkie smiles toward the candy end of the bar, only to find the irritated blonde staring her down at close range.)
Applejack: You’re havin’ fruit!
(The blue eyes shift toward a bin of sugar-encrusted cherries, and the pink face breaks into a big smile.)
Pinkie: Fruit it is! How about cherries? (to herself, turning away) Candy cherries.
(She voices a soft, sneaky laugh, pulling yet one more spoon from her hair and scooping up a charge to show to Applejack with a grin. The latter cocks an eyebrow above her own smile.)
Applejack: (taking spoon and frozen yogurt from Pinkie) Allow me.
Pinkie: Mmm-hmm!
(Applejack pivots away so that Pinkie does not see her dump the candy cherries on the floor and get a spoonful of fresh ones to replace them. These are dispensed and the end product returned to Pinkie, who digs in with gusto.)
Pinkie: Mmm…wow! You’re right, Applejack! This real fruit sure is good!
Applejack: I know it is.
(Both turn their backs to each other, snickering quietly as the view shifts to a vertically split screen with each in close-up.)
Applejack, Pinkie: Sucker.
(Pinkie chows down, thinking she has gotten the upper hand, but Applejack grins over the knowledge that the last laugh is truly hers. Fade to black.)
“Choose Fluttershy” ending
(Snap to Pinkie crossing to the closed doors of the shop and opening them despite Fluttershy’s frantic attempt to wave her off. A minor stampede of small animals thunders in and begins raising a ruckus: picking at the items on the topping bar, harassing one customer after another and upsetting their cups, gorging themselves at the self-serve frozen yogurt machines.)
Cashier: (stammering) This is a major health violation! Everybody out!
(Cut to the sidewalk outside the shop. All the customers have been turned out and are dispersing, a sign is hung on the doors as they close, and Twilight/Applejack/Fluttershy/Pinkie find themselves on the wrong end of more than one filthy look. Pinkie still has her cup, and the animals are gathered out here—birds on a ledge above the doors, land-based creatures on the pavement. Zoom in as Fluttershy sits glumly on the curb.)
Fluttershy: (to Pinkie, as she sits) I told you not to pick me.
Pinkie: I don’t know what came over me. I guess I’ll just have to go topping-less after all.
(A squirrel clambers onto her lap and pulls an acorn from its mouth.)
Pinkie: (gasping, smiling) For me?
(It stuffs the nut back in, chews, and spits a mass of bits all over her frozen yogurt. Pinkie takes a spoonful, eyes it warily—then thinks better of the idea of introducing rodent-chewed nut fragments into her seemingly indefatigable digestive system. She and Fluttershy giggle over the unorthodox topping method, Twilight and Applejack joining in silently, and Pinkie slings the spoon over her shoulder. ‘Iris out” to black, centered on the squirrel; the aperture pauses long enough for it to grin and squeak happily before closing.)
“Costume Conundrum” (CYOE)
Written by Kate Leth; story editing by Nick Confalone
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to Applejack, Fluttershy, Rarity, and Sunset hanging out in Sunset’s room. Applejack and Sunset are talking, Fluttershy plays a video game while wearing a headset with attached microphone, and Rarity sits on the steps leading up to the loft so she can touch up her makeup. Zoom in slowly and cut to the fashionista, who breaks off her efforts when her phone goes off, lying atop her purse. A picture of Bulk comes up on the screen; she picks it up, checks it, and smiles.)
Rarity: Don’t be jealous, but I have been invited to an exclusive— (Zoom out quickly; Applejack and Sunset have their phones in hand now.)
Applejack, Sunset: —costume party at Bulk Biceps’ house!
Rarity: (slightly deflated, but relieved) Oh. Good.
Applejack: Yee-haa!
Sunset: (laughing) This is gonna be awesome!
(Her eyes pop as a thought flashes through her mind, and she turns to consider Fluttershy, who whimpers fearfully while looking down at her own phone.)
Sunset: Don’t be nervous. We’ll all go together, Fluttershy.
Fluttershy: I-It’s not that, it’s just…the party’s in a few days and I have no idea what I’d wear.
Applejack: (laughing) Don’t you worry ’bout that. I got just the thing.
Rarity: I’d be more than willing to help you throw together a dazzling ensemble.
Sunset: (deviously) I’m thinking something real spooky.
(All three have stashed their phones by now, as has Fluttershy when the camera shifts back to her. The headset is now dangling around her neck.)
Fluttershy: Hmmm…who should I ask for help with my costume?
(She mulls over the prompts for the girls that appear around her; the usual timer appears, runs down, and fades away. Snap to black behind the prompts.)
“Choose Applejack” ending
(Snap to a long shot of the house and barn at the edge of Sweet Apple Acres during the day and zoom in slowly.)
Applejack: (voice over, chuckling) I’m thrilled you’re willin’ to do this with me, Fluttershy.
(Cut to a close-up of several snoozing chickens, which awaken and vacate their spot in a peal of squawking at her handclaps. They have been resting atop a trunk, and a longer shot puts it at the foot of Applejack’s bed in her room; she and Fluttershy are up here, the latter having shed her headset.)
Applejack: (kneeling, opening trunk) I tried to use this costume ages ago with Sunset Shimmer— (Fluttershy picks up one chicken.) —but she just wasn’t into it.
Fluttershy: (moving closer) Uh…what is it? (Applejack digs around for a moment.)
Applejack: Heh. Here. (Fluttershy kneels by the trunk.) Whatcha think? Ain’t she a beaut?
(The yellow girl lets her eyes flick uncertainly between her friend and the yardbird she is till cradling, neither one sure of the best response. Dissolve to a slow pan through the front hall of a different house, filled with partygoers in various costumes—the site of Bulk’s party. Among them are Rarity, who has gone for a princess look with a sparkly, jeweled violet gown and tiara that holds the elegant purple locks back; and Sunset as a punk vampire in a gray/black ensemble of combat boots, ripped jeans with rolled-up cuffs, shirt, belt, short messy wig, jacket with rolled-up sleeves, gloves, and heavy eyeshadow. Fake fangs protrude among her upper teeth; the only spots of color on her whole outfit are found in red and purple patches on the jacket sleeves. Rarity is holding a drink, and the night sky is visible through the windows.)
Sunset: Where are those two?
Rarity: I hope Fluttershy didn’t get cold feet.
(The sound of the closing front door gives them a jolt, and the camera zooms out to floor level as two pale yellow, horse-like legs step into view in the fore. On the next line, cut to frame the new arrival in full—a giant fabric pony with pink mane/tail, the latter tied back with a pale green bow. A zipper runs up the back, and the head’s eyes have been cut away to give the operator a clear view. Although the living eyes are cast in half-shadow, their lashes give away Fluttershy’s identity.)
Voice of Applejack: (muffled) The only thing these feet are doin’ is gettin’ ready to cut a rug!
(The classic two-person costume, then, with Applejack bringing up the rear. Rarity gasps softly, hands her drink off to Sunset, and crosses to put an ear to the fabric-covered rump.)
Rarity: Ooh, Fluttershy! I’m sorry she’s putting you through this.
Fluttershy: (muffled) Actually, Rarity— (Rarity wheels to the head.) —it’s nice. It’s easier to relax when no one can see me.
Voice of Applejack: (muffled, laughing) What’d I tell you?
(The zipper comes undone and the farmer stands up through it to full height, spooking Sunset so badly that she cries out and barely stops herself in time from hurling Rarity’s drink up the stairs.)
Applejack: A good friend always has your back.
(The ersatz undead girl bobbles the cup and ends up dropping it.)
Sunset: (embarrassed) Uh, s-sorry. Heh.
(All four laugh as the view “irises out” to black, centered on the horse’s head. The aperture pauses long enough for its mouth to curve up into a grin, then closes altogether.)
“Choose Rarity” ending
(Snap to a slow pan through Rarity’s bedroom. A rack of garments stands off in one corner, and the bed is piled with raw and finished fabric goods. She has put on her tinted glasses and brought Fluttershy up here.)
Rarity: Oh, Fluttershy! I can’t wait to make you something truly breathtaking. (She giggles and brings out a measuring tape.) Now hold still for the next…several days…
(Before Fluttershy can even think about reacting, she finds her various measurements being taken with remarkable speed and efficiency. Rarity trades the tape for a length of magenta cloth, which she drapes over the yellow shoulders and carefully adjusts just so. Another high-velocity run, and she has ditched the tape and is cinching a gold-colored rope insanely tight to serve as a belt. The next trip puts a large swath of cloth in Rarity’s hands, a touch lighter than the impromptu vest; this is whipped out to fill the screen, then drifted away to wipe the view to a close-up of the designer. She gasps in quiet delight.)
Rarity: (removing glasses) Rarity, darling, you’ve outdone yourself!
Fluttershy: (from o.s., teasing singsong) Rarity…
(She holds a large jar filled with coins into view; a lace heart is tied onto one side, and a slot is cut into the lid.)
Rarity: (irked) Oh! I said “darling,” didn’t I? Ohhh…
(She drops in a coin—her equivalent of a fund to which an adult might contribute every time he/she uses bad language—and Fluttershy pulls the jar away. Close-up of her smiling face, a silver tiara nestled in the pink hair; she pivots to get an eyeful of herself in a full-length mirror at the wall, exposing a sliver of dress fabric. Rarity adjusts the glass to give the full view: the same gem-studded violet gown that she herself wore in the “Choose Applejack” ending.)
Fluttershy: (gasping, twirling) I look like a princess!
Rarity: Hm, indeed. Now, we still have to find something for you to wear.
Fluttershy: (confusedly) Huh? You made this for yourself? (Rarity wheels a rack partway into view.)
Rarity: Oh, don’t worry. (pulling it across in front of her) You can wear one of my “what-this-old-things.”
(It is filled with dresses in a wide range of styles and colors, every one of which would draw approval from a discerning eye.)
Fluttershy: (smiling) Why are they called that? (Her perspective, tilting up from the hems.) They’re beautiful. (Rarity steps in front.)
Rarity: (casually, lifting a fold) What? This old thing?
(“Iris out” to black, the aperture centered on her face and pausing briefly on it before closing.)
“Choose Sunset Shimmer” ending
(To the sound of a door being opened, a vertical shaft of light appears against the black screen and widens to illuminate a cardboard box sitting in a cabinet. A longer shot frames Sunset at its door, near the steps leading to the loft, and Fluttershy a pace or two back.)
Sunset: (eagerly, pushing sleeves back) Okay! Let’s get started.
(The timid girl gasps, yelps, and ducks as one item after another is flung her way: Sunset’s journal, game controller, horseshoes, a plastic-bagged slice of moldy pizza whose odor turns her cheeks green and forces her to clap hands to mouth so as not to blow chunks everywhere. After a little grumbling and rooting around, Sunset brightens and pulls something long and tan-colored from the box.)
Sunset: Aha! Here it is!
(She whirls to show it off in full: a hot-dog costume with a googly-eyed, grinning face and holes cut for arms and legs. Fluttershy cries out in fear and turns away.)
Sunset: (face falling) …n’t.
(Tossing it aside, she goes back to rummaging in the box. Her next find is a large toy spider, which draws a noise of frightened disgust from Fluttershy.)
Sunset: (putting it away) Nah, too scary.
(Her next find, a pair of oversized joke glasses with silly eyes painted on the lenses, brings Fluttershy to a smile but is similarly rejected.)
Sunset: Not scary enough. (Now she fishes up a set of plastic fangs, but returns them to the box.) Can’t picture you as a bat.
(Another box crashes to the floor from above, sending up a cloud of dust; she turns to this and puts fingers to the flaps. Cut to within, the camera aimed up at the top, as she opens it and peers in. Her critical look turns to a broad smile, but Fluttershy is nowhere near at ease with the contents.)
Sunset: Now this, I can work with!
(Fluttershy can manage only a shaky little moan. Dissolve to the front hall of Bulk’s house; the costume party is in full swing during the nighttime hours, and its host has dressed himself in gold armor not unlike that worn by the Royal Guard in Equestria, accented by a red cape. He turns to answer the doorbell when it rings; cut to just outside the front door as he opens it to find Sunset in the punk vampire costume she used in the “Choose Applejack” ending.)
Bulk: Hey! Sunset!
(Cut to his perspective of her black-booted feet and tilt up slowly along her height.)
Bulk: Nice costume! (Inside again.) Come on in!
Sunset: If you think this is good, wait ’til you see—
(A squelch from the open doorway throws a scare into the muscle-bound boy, and he turns to find a vaguely humanoid figure at the threshold with height to rival his own. The hide is a queasy green, the head is a mass of thick tentacles sporting no fewer than four reptilian eyes, and a curtain of shorter appendages hangs down in front of the mouth. More tentacles form the lower body, and two clawed hands are held ready to clutch at any potential prey that gets within reach. The sight of this apparition drives Bulk to scream in abject fear and take cover behind Sunset.)
Bulk: MONSTER!! (sobbing) RUN!!
Creature: (Fluttershy’s voice) M-M-Monster? Where?
(The costume Sunset picked out has apparently been enough to freak out even its wearer, it seems. She forces its bulk through the doorway with one desperate heave, but loses her balance and ends up on the floor. The head rolls loose and comes to a stop at Bulk’s feet; he manages only a choked gasp as Fluttershy raises her head to look him straight on. Instead of being calmed by the revelation of the “monster”’s identity, he screams again.)
Bulk: (stammering, pointing) It’s…it’s mutated into Fluttershy! (He peels out up the stairs.)
Sunset: (to Fluttershy, smiling) I told you this was a great costume.
(Both laugh over the inadvertent prank they have pulled off. Fade to black.)
“Let It Rain”
Music/Lyrics by Jess Vaughn, Jess Furman, John Jennings Boyd
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a slow tilt down from the upper reaches of the festival’s side stage. Rain is pouring down, and all the lights are dark. A stool and microphone have been placed at center stage, flanked by an amplifier and an acoustic guitar on a stand. Sunset walks up, jacket slung over one shoulder to expose the sleeveless design of her triangle-patterned top. Setting the garment on the amp, she sits on the stool and picks up the six-string. Spotlights pick her out as she adjusts the mic and begins to play for a sparse group protected by umbrellas.)
Soft, contemplative electric guitar melody with backing synthesizer chords, slow 4 (D major)
Sunset: It’s all right, yeah
I’m walking right beside you
(Her image slides out of view, the background dissolving to the spectators.)
I feel the way, feel the way that you do too
Oh, I can’t lie, sometimes
Bass, drums in; intensity builds
(Now without the guitar, she stands in a violent thunderstorm and tries to shield herself from its bombardment; her colors appear washed out.)
Sunset: Everything feels like it’s just too much
But you gotta let it in even if it’s tough
(Lightning courses into the outstretched arms, concentrating into a brilliant yellow ball when she brings her hands together. Two images of her back toward one another on opposite sides of a diagonally split screen.)
Know it gets better, know it gets better
(The split fades away and the two Sunsets merge into one, letting the energy rip toward the camera and white out the screen.)
Push through the weather, weather
(The glare clears to show her floating in an upright position, the ball gone.)
Sunset: Let it rain
(She splashes down to her knees.)
Let it rain
(The rain pours over her in pastel-hued rivulets.)
Don’t be afraid, walls coming down
Sometimes it hurts, you figure it out
(Now standing and smiling, she throws off the water and regains her vibrant hues.)
Let it rain [rain]
Bass, drums out; intensity drops back
(Dissolve to her on the stage, playing and singing.)
Sunset: Let it rain, it’s okay
There’s beauty in the breakdown
(The onlookers glance upward and find a patch of sunlit sky beyond a break in the foreboding thunderheads.)
There’s sun behind those gray clouds, you know
(Sunset stands and approaches the edge of the stage.)
I can’t lie, it’s all right
Bass, drums in; intensity builds
Sunset: When everything feels like it’s just too much
(People fold up their umbrellas one by one and revel in the rain, their own colors brightening a bit with the removal of their personal shadows.)
But you gotta let it in even if it’s tough
(The bonhomie begins to spread, even reaching the impassive security guard who became her on-again-off-again adversary in “Sunset’s Backstage Pass.” He smiles and cuddles Hattie, the kitten that she and Pinkie brought to him.)
Know it gets better, know it gets better
We push through the weather, weather
(A spark blazes up from the strings and expands toward the crowd, the view dissolving to her standing confidently in the rain without her guitar.)
Sunset: Let it rain [There’s beauty, there’s beauty in the breakdown]
(Her form disintegrates into a shower of glowing flecks, a wisp of deep red magic wheeling away. Cut to the festival grounds; it winds among one spectator after another, fully restoring their bright colors.)
Let it rain
(The storm subsides and the clouds part to let the sun blaze through.)
Don’t be afraid, walls coming down
Sometimes it hurts, you figure it out
(Sunset strolls past, playing and singing; behind her, wipe to the listeners now fully back to themselves on a dry field.)
Let it rain [rain] [There’s beauty, there’s beauty in the breakdown]
Let it rain
Bass, drums out; intensity drops back; tempo slows
(Cut to her, standing at the microphone, and tilt up slowly toward her serenely smiling face.)
Sunset: Let it rain
Song ends on a quiet chord in G major with added ninth, strummed note by note
(Fade to black at the same time.)
“Do It for the Ponygram!”
Notes: Unlike the other shorts to date, this one does not have a title card or list any
writing/production credits.
Each of these snippets except the last ends with a brief blip of sound and a black
flash.
(Snap to a close-up of Rarity sitting in her bedroom and facing away from the camera. She pivots suavely toward the lens, only for her hair to swing out and cover her face; one strand winds up caught in her mouth.)
Rarity: Oh! Uh…
(She leans forward with a grunt to cover the lens with her hands; the screen briefly fills with static, then clears to show her trying it again—only for her coiffure to come undone in dramatic fashion. She shudders audibly upon realizing the blunder; another flash of static, and she turns to the camera while blow-drying her hair. When she switches the machine off, though, the purple locks settle into Pinkie’s fluffy curls instead of her own signature style; a look of dawning horror settles onto her face as her fingers tell her just how badly this attempt has gone. More static, and she reappears with her hair fully restored. This turn succeeds with not a strand out of place, and she flicks her hair with an alluring smile.)
Rarity: Hashtag “perfect on the first try.”
(A wink is accompanied by pink hearts appearing around her face.)
*****
(Extreme close-up of a drop of green liquid being poured from a test tube and falling into a funnel held in a clamp. It flows along a tube coiled around a thin glass vessel on a laboratory counter and drains into a flask of blue solution being heated by a burner. This quickly starts to boil, sending up vapor that wends through an overhead tube and enters a large vessel with a spout like a teapot. A cloud of yellowish steam sings out, and a droplet of liquid exits through a side nozzle and falls into a flask of reddish liquid. Bubbles start to form in short order, and a slug of vapor travels up into yet another flask, this one holding a bright pink reagent. More bubbles here; gas goes across to a pale green mixture in the next flask. This reacts in like manner and lets a drip free to flow down a pipe and drop into an open container at the very end of the line. The addition triggers a screen-filling burst of yellow-green fumes; after these have cleared, Twilight leans into view in extreme close-up.)
Twilight: Science!
*****
(Applejack, Fluttershy, and Sunset stand near the trophy cases in the front hall of Canterlot High. Zoom out quickly to frame Pinkie standing a few yards away and aiming her party cannon at them, a rope attached to its breech and looped around her hand.)
Pinkie: Party time!
(A hard yank discharges its freight of confetti—and after a moment, the motion reverses itself as if it were on a film being rewound. The entire sequence repeats itself once, then plays partway through again before being cut off.)
*****
(Fluttershy’s bedroom at home—bed with a butterfly-patterned blanket and a headboard carved with oversized rabbit ears, butterfly lampshade and wall decorations, pictures of herself and her rabbit Angel. She is stretched out on her bed to do a little reading; it takes a second or two for the camera to straighten and focus itself.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Time to fly!
(She drops into view from above, landing on the mattress hard enough to launch its owner and her book toward the ceiling.)
Fluttershy: Huh?
(The surprise arrival plays in reverse as in the previous clip. The whole cycle repeats itself once in full, but without Fluttershy’s exclamation, then gets halfway through another such iteration before cutoff.)
*****
(Pinkie and Rarity sit in the latter’s bedroom, framed in close-up with a few control buttons displayed at the bottom edge of the screen—a video call in progress.)
Rarity: Hey, dars! That’s what we’re calling darlings now. It’s all part of our new slanguage we’re calling…
Pinkie: (leaning briefly toward camera) …Sweet Breeves!
Rarity: Everything’s cooler when you abbreviate it.
(Slowly and laboriously, she reels off a short string of gibberish syllables.)
Pinkie: Totes! That’s an abreeve, as in “I totes have no idea what you just said.” (Giggle.)
Rarity: That is the power of breeves. P to the breeve.
*****
(Extreme close-up of Rainbow, hiding in a half-open locker at Canterlot High and snickering uncontrollably. The perspective is that of a video camera trained on her and the hallway beyond.)
Rainbow: (reverberating slightly) I’m gonna hide in Pinkie’s locker and scare her when she—
(She utterly fails to notice a set of pink fingers wrapping themselves around the door’s edge as she speaks, much less the owner of those fingers leaning over to peer in. As a result, Rainbow lets go with a blood-curdling scream when Pinkie yanks the door fully open and grins in at her.)
*****
(Sunset leans toward the camera, adjusting it, and backs off once she has it just so. She and the other Rainbooms except for Pinkie are gathered in a school hallway and tense for action as its timer beeps. A series of camera flashes shifts the view from one freeze frame to another. The girls leaping toward the ceiling, Twilight with glasses askew…Fluttershy as the last girl standing amid an undignified heap of the other five…she huddles down behind her hair as the others get airborne again, Rainbow launching a high kick…all six now really getting into the act together.)
*****
(Snips is down on all fours in the middle of a school hallway, while Snails kneels by him holding a partly full water bottle. Several students have gathered to watch, and Snips giggles stupidly as Snails tosses the bottle toward his friend’s back; it completes three-fourths of a rotation, lands on its side, and rolls off to the floor. The thrower scoops it up with a hasty grin.)
Snips: Oh, oh! Okay, okay! T-Try again!
(A second toss meets the same result, then a third; on the fourth go, the bottle is caught in midair by Celestia, who has come upon the scene unnoticed. Snips stands up, and all the students gasp at her arrival before a flick of the wrist sets the bottle spinning through the air. It plunks down onto Snips’ head and remains there, upright and perfectly balanced, and the students completely freak out as the camera shakes to the sound of a simulated earthquake. The smirking principal extends one arm with index finger pointed over their heads; zoom in quickly to a low-resolution close-up of her face, a pair of sunglasses superimposing themselves over her eyes.)
*****
(All the Rainbooms except for Fluttershy and Rainbow stand around a basketball goal in the gym. The blue jock leans into view with a grin and passes a volleyball to Sunset, then uses her super speed to cross to Applejack. The ball is tossed to one side and prevented from hitting the floor by Fluttershy, who dives into view to knock it upward with her joined forearms. It sails toward Rarity, who creates a gem shield to bounce it up over the hoop, and Twilight exerts her levitation to hoist Pinkie up into a midair backflip so that she can kick it across.)
Pinkie: Woo-hoo!
(Applejack heaves Rainbow into the air so she can “pony up,” catch the ball, and slam-dunk it. All seven girls cheer as the camera pivots quickly to frame an extreme close-up of a jubilant Trixie holding it—she has been committing the proceedings to video.)
*****
(Standing outside Canterlot High, Bulk adjusts the camera with one hand while holding his dog in the other—see the two “Best in Show” shorts. Pet and owner are both wearing the sushi-patterned kerchiefs from that time around their necks. Pinkie pops up in the background.)
Pinkie: Cupcakes! (She zips up to them and taps the dog’s head.) Vanilla swirl!
(An image of this treat superimposes itself on the fluffy little head, puzzling Bulk considerably. Next, DJ P0N-3 flashes a peace sign with one hand while adjusting a camera with the other, standing behind her decks in a music practice room. Pinkie peeks up over the edge and points at one cheek.)
Pinkie: Chocolate crunch!
(A cupcake of this type covers the remixer’s face. Next Pinkie slides into view by a flower on the lawn, giggles, and points; a treat pops up to cover the blossom. Applejack is next on the list, getting her nose poked to irritate her visibly.)
Pinkie: Strawberry coconut!
(Her mug disappears behind the baked good. Next Pinkie stands adjusting the camera, while Twilight and Timber Spruce sit at a restaurant table just behind her.)
Pinkie: (pointing to Twilight) Lemon drop! (then Timber) Key lime!
(Each face gets blocked out as she indicates it. Her next target is Sunset, who walks with a laughing Flash; Pinkie leans into view in the fore.)
Pinkie: (indicating Sunset, Flash in turn; each one gets the same treatment) Orange creamsicle! Raspberry ganache!
*****
(A moment during “The Other Side”: Rarity, in her dark bodysuit, cape, and jeweled brooch, strides along the beach at sunrise only to stumble and fall.)
Rarity: Whooaa!
(The accompanying music stops abruptly when she hits the ground. Next she drapes herself over the beachside collection of gigantic jewels, the cape and brooch gone, but badly fumbles the telephone and ends up with its cord snagged on one of her high heels. A blip and white flash, and she has managed to tangle up all four limbs. From here, cut to her standing on the sand and turning to face the camera, her cape and brooch on again; the music resumes.)
Rarity: Won’t stop ’til I seize the day
(A dolphin leaps through the water behind her; a gust of wind wraps the cape around her entire form.)
My wheels keep turn—
(The track winds to a stop as she topples over, and muffled exclamations penetrate the cloth as the diving mammal laughs itself silly. The next shot is a close-up of her standing with arms spread and no cape/brooch; the tide suddenly surges in, leaving time for nothing but one stunned gasp before she gets thoroughly drenched. The load of seawater bulging out her cheeks is petulantly spat out.)
*****
(A moment from “Five to Nine”: Macintosh ambles toward the bottom of the staircase in the house at Sweet Apple Acres, while Applejack slides down the banister. She is dressed in her housework outfit of jeans and red/white work shirt and hair kerchief.)
Applejack: Yee-haa!
(The siblings collide; Macintosh catches Applejack, but the hit spins him on his feet and leaves both of them badly disoriented. Next, in the barn, she finishes loading hay into a wheelbarrow and prepares to trundle it away—that is, until Pinkie bursts upward from the pile.)
Pinkie: Woo-hoo!
(Both girls laugh over the joke. As the song ends, Applejack undoes the knotted kerchief and lets her hair fall loose, only to find it stuck as a frizzed-out fan.)
Applejack: (sourly) Oh, apple fudge.
*****
(Twilight hunches in a Canterlot High hallway, peeking in through an open classroom door to watch Cranky bust a few old-school dance moves without being spotted. He is dressed in the breakdancing outfit he wore during the “Choose Celestia” ending of “The Road Less Scheduled.” Sunset leans into view facing the camera and, after putting a finger to her lips in a silent shushing, walks in and goes into a dance of her own. Twilight’s giggle draws Cranky’s attention to the intruder; he freezes in his tracks as she keeps her groove going. Snap to black.)
“Cheer You On”
Music/Lyrics by Jess Vaughn, Jess Furman, John Jennings Boyd
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an overhead shot of the Canterlot High gym. Rows of chairs have been set up facing the stage at one end, and Twilight and Sunset take seats with their friends up front. Pan along the row to the buzz of other attendees’ conversation, the seven girls passing the idle moments in various ways, then cut to the dim stage. A three-piece combo is preparing to play—guitar, drums, and Sandalwood on keyboard—and spotlights flick on to illuminate them and a microphone stand.)
Spacey synthesizer melody, fast 4 (B flat major)
Quiet piano enters after four bars
(The guitarist nods over his instrument, drumsticks are picked up and twirled, and Sandalwood gets his fingers moving as Flash enters and steps to the mic. Gray pants; blue high-top sneakers with lightning bolts and folded-down sides; collared, deep red shirt marked by glitter around the collar and upper chest and rolled-up long sleeves; bracelets on one wrist.)
Sparse percussion in; piano out
Flash’s vocals bear traces of electronic processing
Flash: Leading ladies, I’m happy where I stand
’Cause you’re the superstars and I’m a super fan, yeah
You’re my heroes, you’ve got the master plan
So into you
Full percussion and electric guitar in; half-time feel
(An explosion tears through the wall behind the audience, and a robot patterned after Micro’s JVJ-24601 creation from the “Best in Show” shorts storms in. It is far larger than that earlier “pet,” with four flexible, pincer-tipped arms and two angry faces on the toast slices protruding from the top of its central chassis. Students flee for their lives—all except the Rainbooms, who resolutely get to their feet, Rainbow kicking her chair over for good measure.)
Flash: I’m just here to cheer you on
Someone you can count on
(Extreme close-up of Sunset’s pendant against a white ground; it floats backward and settles around her neck as she fades into view with the others. Floating in a starry void striped in their signature colors, they pony up and assume their superhero outfits from “Forgotten Friendship” and “Rollercoaster of Friendship.” The pendants disappear in the transformation.)
I live to cheer you o-o-on
(He sings against a backdrop of the shield/lightning-bolt from the sleeve of his usual sweatshirt.)
The supporting man in your world
(The view behind him dissolves to the gym stage; the septet hovers above the four performers and flies off.)
All for Equestria Girls [Girls, Girls, Girls, Girls]
Yeah
(As the girls land to assess the situation, JVJ keeps tearing the place up and Micro hammers at a remote control in a futile ploy to rein it in.)
[All for Equestria Girls, Girls, Girls, Girls, Girls]
Yeah
Guitar out; percussion drops back
(It gathers power into the pincers, ready to nail him with a few million volts, but a thrown chair connects with one shoulder and shorts out the attack. The mechanical beast grinds toward the girls; Flash runs to them as they take flight.)
Flash: If I could be the wind under your wings [your wings]
(Rainbow circles it at insane speed, avoiding its laser blasts, while Twilight levitates it into range for Applejack to smash it down with one crushing punch.)
To watch you soar so high makes my heart sing [oh, yeah]
(Fluttershy carries Micro safely away from its impact against the floor, Sunset doing the same for Flash. Rarity throws up a set of gem shields to protect them and herself from its shots, then sends up one more for Pinkie to ride through the air.)
You don’t have to ask, I’d do anything
(The human dynamo flings a double handful of magically charged candies that explode against the hull.)
So into you
Full percussion and guitar in
(Cut to one exterior wall, which disappears in a belch of dust and rubble; the girls are propelled out through the fresh hole and JVJ stalks after them.)
Flash: I’m just here to cheer you on
(They fetch up near the bleachers, Sunset back in her civilian clothes and no longer ponied up.)
Magnificent and strong
(She notices that her pendant is no longer at her throat, but lying in the grass several yards away; JVJ’s treads roll toward them, just missing it to either side.)
Someone you can count o-o-on
(Flash rushes toward the scene, ignoring the concern of Micro and the guitarist and drummer—the latter two having abandoned their instruments.)
The supporting man in your world
All for Equestria Girls
(Light green fingers wrap around the edge of the camera lens and pull it around; they belong to Sandalwood, framed from the waist up. He has traded his usual eco-kid attire for a blue/white basketball jersey over a red tank top, a red bucket hat with a blue logo and gold sparkles around the brim, a heavy gold horseshoe on a necklace, and one thin bracelet. Flash’s cutie mark stands behind him.)
Rap; guitar out; percussion drops back; synth/piano chords only
Sandalwood: Haters can hate, he knows where he stands
(Flash throws himself into a feet-first slide under JVJ and scoops up Sunset’s pendant along the way.)
They wish they could be an Equestria Man
He is the one, he’ll never be fake
(The rocker gets upright, but is lost in the dust clouds thrown up by its leaping smash.)
Friendship forever, bonds you don’t break
(Panels showing close-ups of the four panicked male onlookers slide together to tile the screen, followed by a cut to a seven-way split screen of the equally thunderstruck girls.)
“F” is for freedom, “R” is for rare
(Applejack and Rainbow launch a new one-two combo.)
“I” is inspired, “E”-questria, yeah
“N”, never-ending, “D” is for dreaming
(The other five can only goggle at Flash’s fist, clenched around the chain of Sunset’s pendant; he is showing his share of scrapes and dings, but Rainbow has lent a hand and shoulder to help him stand.)
Don’t stop believing, he’ll always be there
[Animation goof: Sunset is already wearing her pendant in this shot.]
Rap ends; piano out; guitar, full percussion in
(The owner smiles gratefully and clasps it around her neck, instantly ponying up and shifting to her hero attire, and Flash’s injuries are healed just as rapidly.)
Flash: I’m just here to cheer you on
(The whole band plays again, Sandalwood back in his everyday outfit. Next Flash appears with his shirt blowing open, arms spread wide, and a pendant of his own—a gold lightning bolt. The background goes a sparkly red-orange, projecting a slow pan across a softly focused close-up of his head and shoulders.)
Someone you can count on [yeah]
(The bleachers: he throws a bottle of water toward the fray as the rest of the band cheers and Sandalwood and the drummer shake pompoms. His shirt is buttoned again.)
I live to cheer you o-o-on [oh-h]
(As the other Rainbooms keep up the fight, Rainbow catches the drink and takes a swig. Her next move is to toss it up and do a backflip, kicking the bottle straight at JVJ and liberally soaking both of its nicely browned heads. The girls then regroup.)
The supporting man in your world
(Sunset’s fellow fighters rise into the air one by one, firing beams in their respective colors from hands or feet.)
All for Equestria Girls [Girls, Girls, Girls, Girls]
Magnificent and strong [Girls, Girls, Girls, Girls]
(The energies are all focused on Sunset, eyes burning white and body outlined in her own red aura. She pours the juice into her extended palms and lets JVJ have it in the faces.)
Someone you can count o-o-on
(It disappears under the blinding whiteness of the team’s onslaught.)
The supporting man in your world
A cappella
(Fade in to a close-up of Flash and zoom out. He, the rest of his band, the girls, and Micro are ranged on/above/in front of the bleachers, celebrating over the smoking remains of the defeated robot.)
All for Equestria Girls
Song ends
(Fade to black.)
MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS—HOLIDAYS UNWRAPPED
Written by Anna Christopher
Produced by Angela Belyea
Story editing by Nick Confalone
Directed by Ishi Rudell, Katrina Hadley
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Note: Each act in this special is a standalone short with no narrative connection
to any of the others.
The Discovery Family airing used the Equestria Girls opening theme and
displayed a title card only for the entire special. However, the shorts were each
given their own title card and closing credits when they were individually released
on YouTube. This transcript combines the two practices.
OPENING THEME
“Blizzard or Bust”
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a close-up of a slice of pizza hanging halfway over the edge of the box in which it was delivered. The dangling point swings back and forth, blown by snores from the o.s. Pinkie Pie, and the camera zooms out to frame her lying in a gigantic beanbag chair and absolutely dead to the world, with a few magenta hairs sprung out of place. The framed pictures of Spike and his paw prints suggest that she has fetched up at Twilight Sparkle’s home, and a cut to the young genius’s bed in her room confirms this. She and Sunset Shimmer have crashed out on it amid a pile of books, the camera panning/tilting down slowly to pick out Rarity similarly disposed among a scatter of cushions on the floor. From here, cut to a slow tilt down from a countertop laden with plant specimens, a globe, and a computer; Applejack and Fluttershy are deep in dreamland at its base with an untidy welter of texts to keep them company. All six of these girls are fully dressed and snoring quietly, with the exception of Applejack’s hat being on the globe rather than her head, but the dark shadows under their eyes speak to a woefully inadequate night’s sleep.)
[Animation goof: The hat shifts to and from Applejack’s head during the following.]
(Close-up of a digital alarm clock on the nightstand, the display flicking ahead one minute to 8:00. The chipper beeping of its signal shocks the whole gang to consciousness with a round of yelps, Pinkie being the last to peel herself up.)
Pinkie: (rubbing eyes) I’m awake, I’m awake! What time is it? Did we sleep through the test?
(She conks out again just as quickly, and Rarity shuts off the alarm, horror slowly dawning on her face as she takes in its reading.)
Rarity: No, but school starts in thirty minutes!
Sunset: (groaning drowsily) How’s everybody feeling about our test? (Applejack retrieves and dons her hat.)
Fluttershy: Even after our all-night study session— (shutting the book she holds) —I still don’t know the difference between vaporization and sublimation!
Applejack: (sighing, sinking down) Reckon this test is gonna be an abomination.
Twilight: I can’t believe we all fell asleep halfway through our first all-nighter! (She buries her face resignedly in a set of pages.)
Rainbow Dash: (from o.s.) Not all of us!
(Pan quickly to her sitting at the window—also dressed and suffering the aftereffects of a rough sleep, but grinning cockily with the edges of the closed curtains in hand. Zoom out quickly to frame Twilight, Rarity, and Sunset exchanging looks of complete bewilderment, then cut back to the jock.)
Rainbow: While you chumps were studying all night, guess who was coming up with a plan.
(The draperies are thrown open to reveal an expanse of clear blue morning sky beyond the panes. As she holds up both hands with thumbs and forefingers extended to frame an imaginary picture, the camera cuts to an extreme close-up of these four digits—and a lone snowflake outside, drifting lazily downward through their field. Now Applejack and Fluttershy show each other their own confounded expressions during a long silence.)
Twilight: You call that a plan?
Rainbow: (groaning) Come on! Do I have to spell it out for you? (A few more flakes waft down from the sky.) It’s snowing!
(An intense glare and a gesture toward the window fail to get a rise out of her friends.)
Rainbow: (with growing enthusiasm) “Snow day” means “no school.” “No school” means “no test”! (Big grin and fist pump.)
Applejack: Uh…it’s hardly snowin’, Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow: (scowling) Come on, guys! You are seriously lacking vision!
Twilight: (adjusting glasses, closing her book) I’ve got twenty-twenty vision, and I can clearly see it’s not snowing enough for school to be canceled!
(Fluttershy sighs wearily and slides one into an overnight bag in close-up.)
Fluttershy: Too bad it’s not a snow day.
Rainbow: (from o.s.) It’s not a snow day… (Back to her, now standing up.) …yet. If we can save a sinking cruise ship and break the laws of time and space to see a concert, I’m pretty sure we can convince Principal Celestia to call a snow day.
(Referring to the events of “Spring Breakdown” and “Sunset’s Backstage Pass,” respectively—though to be exact, they only saved the passengers and crew of the Lux Deluxe; the ship went to the bottom of the ocean. Zoom in slowly.)
Rainbow: There’s a lot of innocent kids out there who probably didn’t study, and they’re depending on us! So what do you say? (raising a fist) Who’s with me?
Twilight: (uncertainly, drumming fingers on book) I don’t know…
(The other four fully awake teens begin to come around to the idea, giving small smiles and nods.)
Rainbow: (coaxingly) Huh? Huh?
Twilight: Mmm…I guess.
Rainbow: (pumping a fist) Yeah!
(The six file out of the room, leaving Pinkie to snooze away in her corner beanbag chair; she only jerks awake once they have gone.)
Pinkie: Oh! Can’t believe I almost slept through a montage!
(She peels out in a pink/magenta blur, but doubles back to snatch the pizza slice from its most precarious perch on the edge of the box and gobble it down. Feet hit high gear again once this less-than-nutritious breakfast has been dispatched. Cut to the front lawn of Canterlot High School, seen from one side; zoom in slowly, then cut to just outside the windows of Principal Celestia’s office. She paces past them within and out of view, after which the view shifts to this room and she sits at her desk and begins working at her computer. With her back to the windows, she does not notice a knit-capped Rainbow peeking in from the lawn; zoom in on the blue face and cut to just behind her outside, hair tied back in a ponytail. The discoloration below her eyes is gone; the same will be true of the other girls when seen next. Now Celestia picks up a mug of tea for a sip, but lowers it abruptly with a start of surprise upon finding it empty and stands up to cross the office. Rainbow hastily hunches down out of sight, the camera zooming out to frame more of the cold-weather gear she has donned. The other Rainbooms will be similarly outfitted when seen next.)
(Once Rainbow is sure that the coast is clear, she waves for Applejack and Sunset to bring in a large, blank rectangular canvas, which they set down so it faces the windows. Pan from them to Pinkie standing at a newly deployed folding table, her hair back in order; she dumps a sack of potatoes onto this, next to a mixing bowl. One mittened hand picks up a spud, while the other fishes a peeler from a pocket and begins to shave away at the surface. She has barely made one pass down its length when a raccoon smiles hopefully up at her from the grass; the two glance uncertainly at one another, then at the pile of potatoes, and one paw reaches ever so slowly toward the starchy bonanza. Snap to black, against which two horizontal panels slide in from opposite sides to fill the screen, each framing one face whose eyes narrow in steely determination. A low, threatening growl rises from one throat or the other—it is impossible to tell which—as the panels slide away to frame Pinkie and the raccoon in fullscreen. She is forced to abandon her peeling endeavor so she can snatch the sack out of the critter’s lunging grip, then grins in the face of its angered hiss and heaves the lot upward. The action shifts to slow motion as the tubers rise toward the apex of their flight path, and her mouth curves in a savage smile just before she launches herself after them. The raccoon can only stare slack-jawed, Pinkie reflected in one eye and the sack in the other, and she brings her peeler up to the ready.)
(Normal speed resumes with a snap to black, against which the white gleam of the utensil’s blade flashes back and forth almost faster than thought, then fade in to a close-up of Pinkie descending among the potatoes in slow motion. Every single one has had its peel neatly scored, and once she hits the turf in a three-point stance, these burst free as brown spirals. Normal speed resumes again with a cut to a close-up of the bowl, the spuds landing neatly within; the gobsmacked raccoon regains its wits with a snarl and leap, but Pinkie rushes over just in time to grab the edge of the bowl nearest her. There follows a brief, hotly contested tug-of-war, which Pinkie eventually wins by lifting the bowl off the table and shaking the scavenger loose. She blows a hearty raspberry down at her adversary, only for it to bring her and the table down in a flying tackle.)
(The camera cuts to a close-up of Fluttershy, stationed by the front steps and giving hand signals as if to guide someone or something in for a safe landing. She is briefly distracted by a spate of quacking from o.s. below, but hastily points off to one side. A longer shot picks out the two conflicting priorities—a family of ducks crossing the lawn, and Applejack trying not to trip over them while hefting a few thousand pounds of ice blocks with her magically boosted strength. Once the load is safely on the grass, Rainbow steps out to regard them with measurable satisfaction and the animal lover steps away to a new task. The red-violet eyes glance in a different direction, prompting their owner’s jaw to drop open in shock; cut to Twilight reading a textbook, which is swiftly plucked from her grasp by one set of blue fingers. The other thumb jerks back over Rainbow’s shoulder in a “get back to work” gesture, and Twilight resignedly picks up a shovel. She plods away past Rarity, who has perched herself in an ornately decorated director’s chair behind the giant canvas and is knitting a scarf. Rainbow’s dirty look is answered with an imperious little wave of dismissal, so she shrugs and goes on her way. Like Rainbow, Rarity’s hair is in a ponytail.)
(Meanwhile, Pinkie has regained her footing and is racing to keep herself and the bowl of peeled potatoes ahead of the vociferously angry raccoon. It gets the upper paw by latching onto one foot, causing her to trip and dump the lot around herself. She scrambles to refill the bowl, then quickly dispenses sprinkles over the spuds from a shaker and sets them off with her explosive magic. A burst of candy bits and deep pink smoke fills the screen and clears to give a close-up of one very confused raccoon who is now wearing globs of pulverized potato. A longer shot reveals that Pinkie has taken a few hits of her own; she gets upright to stare down the would-be thief, the camera zooming out slightly to put one last specimen in the foreground. The two combatants glance from each other to it and back, then dive as one for it. Fade to black as their momentum carries them toward the camera.)
(Snap to Sunset plying a paintbrush on the canvas, the camera positioned just behind one end of it so that the image cannot immediately be seen. She backs off after a few strokes and extends her free arm in front of herself, sticking her thumb upward as if to gauge the overall effect. Satisfied, she steps up again and resumes her task. Fluttershy whistles and gesticulates to a pair of woodpeckers perched atop the stacked ice; they soon get the message and descend to a hover so they can chip away at the frozen mass with their beaks. She giggles as the particles begin to fly. The raccoon scampers triumphantly past Rarity, that last potato held up like a trophy, but Pinkie executes a crouching slide to cut off its escape. Both of them are clean now, and the chase shifts in a new direction for the few steps it takes Pinkie to wrap one set of fingers around the purloined tuber. The pursuit degenerates into a rolling tussle that deposits them at the feet of Fluttershy, who directs an acid glare down at the both of them. Lying in her shadow, they can do nothing but offer a pair of embarrassed grins. Cut to the table they knocked over in their brawling, now set upright again; the potatoes have been thoroughly pulped and deposited here, and they are sullenly sculpting a snowman with an ice cream cone nose and cookie eyes and buttons under Fluttershy’s watchful eye. As soon as the yellow girl turns away, the pink one filches a baked treat, takes a bite, and lets the raccoon chow down on the rest.)
(The woodpeckers are hard at the task of reducing the ice blocks to very tiny bits. Rainbow uses the shovel Twilight picked up to shift one load of the newly manufactured “snow,” then passes it back to the egghead and steps off. Twilight’s attempt to move the stuff on her own comes to a sudden end when the weight shift causes her to slip and tumble with a yell. She winds up on her back, glasses askew and “snow” plastered across her face, hair, and clothing; after a moment’s silent grumble, she smiles slyly and pulls her pendant from under her sweater. Her glasses slide back into place as she stands up, the frigid flakes dropping away from her, and a quick bit of telekinesis heaves most of the pile away. Rainbow ducks just in time to avoid catching it with her face and finds Twilight smugly twirling a small wad in midair. The blue speedster returns the smirk, but the violet brainiac does not take another shot, instead exerting her powers to drop freights of “snow” on a clear stretch of lawn and a windowsill.)
(By this point, the woodpeckers have very nearly finished with the entire ice delivery. Fluttershy is delighted to find that they have used the last portion to create a sculpture of her, framed by butterflies and sprays of plants.)
Fluttershy: Oh! (Blush and giggle.)
(Sunset adds a little more paint to the canvas and steps back, the camera still positioned to leave only its back in view. She runs an eye over the project and allows herself a satisfied smile, which yields to a wondering stare at an actual snowflake that comes to rest on her exposed palm. She closes her fingers around it, closes her eyes, and opens them again so they can blaze pure white—her telepathy power manifesting itself. Fade to white, then in to a color-ringed flashback of a series of scenes, the view dissolving from one to the next. Rain falling from a sky filled with foreboding dark clouds…a thundering waterfall…a stretch of placid river…a dock jutting into a lake, the camera tilting up into the sky as thick gray clouds block the sun and begin to drop snowflakes…one flake drifting past the camera in extreme close-up. From this last image, the screen flares white and clears to frame Sunset, her power subsiding and her fingers opened to show the one she caught still on her palm.)
Sunset: (awed) It remembers!
(A puff of breath sends it away, and she resumes her painting as the scene recedes into the top left corner of the screen. The view is now split into two rows of three, each framing a different girl. Top center: Twilight levitating and slinging “snow.” Top right: Fluttershy watching the woodpeckers chisel away at the last of the ice. Bottom left: Pinkie touching up the mashed-potato snowman. Bottom center: Applejack dumping “snow” onto the grass from a wheelbarrow. Bottom right: Rainbow shoveling with gusto. A close-up of Rarity slides up from the bottom of the screen to replace all of them; she completes the last few stitches on her scarf and rises from her chair, draping it around the snowman’s neck once Pinkie has set it in place.)
(Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow, and Twilight gather around Sunset at the canvas. The ground, bushes, and windowsills have all been liberally bedecked with the ersatz wintry precipitation.)
Rainbow: (gasping happily) We did it! We saved the world!
Twilight: I got to admit, we really did pull together as a team.
(Cut to just inside the open door of Celestia’s office. She strolls in, slurping from a fresh mug of tea and followed by Vice-Principal Luna with file folder in hand. Both stop short, the camera cutting to just behind their heads and giving at least a partial view of the canvas set up outside the window. Depicted are a snow-covered lawn and tree; the sisters gape at each other and hurry across for a closer look. Cut to outside as they press up to the glass, four confused eyes swinging from side to side as fresh flakes cascade down, then to their perspective of the entire front lawn of Canterlot High and the houses and mountains beyond. Nearly every square inch has been thickly blanketed in white, and the snowman stands in the fore.)
Luna: A blizzard!
(Back to her and Celestia, seen from outside.)
Luna: (muffled by window) Quite an unforeseen development, I’d say.
(Zoom out slightly; all seven Rainbooms are hunched down below the sill, and the edge of the canvas comes into view. Except for the snowman and the falling flakes, the entire snowscape just seen was only a painting created by Sunset.)
Celestia: (muffled) Indeed.
(Inside again; they turn away from the manufactured snowstorm.)
Luna: Shall we cancel school?
Celestia: Hmmm…
(She directs a fretful glance to the phone on her desk and bends toward it; zoom in quickly on the window as Rainbow peeks in, then cut to her outside as Celestia lifts the handset.)
Rainbow: (shuddering happily) She’s making the call!
(Just outside the office doorway; Cranky Doodle hustles up, interrupting Celestia in the process of dialing.)
Cranky: Don’t bother with the snow day. It’s phony baloney! (crossing arms) Hope those girls enjoy detention after their test.
(The big boss straightens up, glowering indignantly, and hangs up the phone. Outside, Rainbow is doing her best to keep an eye on the proceedings while the other six stay below the sill. The next three lines overlap and are delivered in hushed tones.)
Applejack: What are they doin’?
Rainbow: Quiet, you guys! I’m trying to see!
Rarity: What’s going on?
(Celestia brings the surveillance to a grinding halt by stepping out of the front doors and clearing her throat pointedly in the septet’s direction. It takes only a flinty glare and a cocked brow to bring a very scared gulp from each and every exam-dodger. From here, cut to a close-up of a very unamused Cranky sitting behind the front desk in his classroom, then to the girls at the desks. They have shucked out of their winter gear and are not having one single solitary bit of fun with the test papers laid before them. In close-up, a properly flummoxed Pinkie beats out a tattoo with her pen, chews on it, fidgets with it while hunching down in frustration, and finally thumps her face onto the desk with a pitiful whimper.)
Pinkie: (sitting up again) How are we supposed to know how snow fits into the water cycle?! (Pan to Twilight on the next line.)
Twilight: Pinkie, what have we been doing for the past two hours? (To Rainbow on the next one.)
Rainbow: All part of the plan. What better way to study than a hands-on project?
Pinkie: (catching on, turning to nearest window) Ohhhh, I get it!
(As she continues, cut to her reflection in the panes and the aftermath of the “blizzard” created by the group.)
Pinkie: This test relates to our snow day! (turning away) Which means… (Back to her, writing feverishly.) …potatoes get mashed, then evaporate into potato moisture where they converge into potato clouds. And when those clouds can’t hold the weight, that’s where the potato flakes come from! Or is it potato chips? (Pause.) Am I missing something?
(The other six laugh over this bit of off-the-wall meteorological theory. “Iris out” to black, the aperture centered on Rainbow and pausing to frame her face as the dark circles of fatigue appear under her eyes.)
Rainbow: (whispering) I didn’t sleep.
(The aperture closes.)
“Saving Pinkie’s Pie”
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an extreme close-up of a soufflé baking on a rack inside an oven. The camera zooms out through the glass door as Sunset’s expectantly smiling reflection appears on its surface, then cuts to her and Pinkie in a kitchen. The yellow-orange girl squats to keep an eye on the cooking project, while the pink one is wearing an oven mitt on one hand and the white, pink-frilled, heart-decorated apron she sported in “The Craft of Cookies.” Pinkie stands with eyes closed and forearms extended to either side at waist level, thumbs and forefingers joined into circles with the other fingers splayed in a meditative pose. Daytime sky can be seen through the window, and Sunset’s next words mark the location as being within Pinkie’s house.)
Sunset: (standing up) Oh, your soufflé’s looking great, Pinkie Pie! (No response.) Pinkie Pie?
Pinkie: (softly, under previous line) Adagio Dazzle, Aria Blaze, Applejack, Apple Bloom, Big Mac, Chestnut Magnifico, Chumbly Bonk-Bonk, DJ P0N-3, Flash Sentry, Fluttershy, Gloriosa Daisy, Juniper Montage, Lily Pad, Lyra Heartstrings, Maud Pie, Muffins, Octavia Melody, Photo Finish, Rainbow Dash…
(Over these last few names, Sunset turns her attention to a kitchen timer on the counter and finds it not running; a couple of taps at its dial, and she gasps in fright before continuing.)
Sunset: But you forgot to set the timer!
Pinkie: Shhh! (donning a second mitt, turning to oven) …Zecora, Zephyr Breeze, Zippoorwill… (full volume) …done! (Open it; Sunset has set the timer down.) I stopped using the timer after I realized the soufflé takes the same amount of time as saying all my friends’ names in ABC order. (She lifts the dish out.)
Sunset: You’re friends with someone named Chumbly Bonk-Bonk?
Pinkie: Eh, he’s more of a “walk by, what’s up” acquaintance, but I needed an extra half a second on the list.
(She kicks the door shut, and both take a moment to inhale deeply of the aroma.)
Pinkie, Sunset: Mmm-hmm!
Sunset: So what’s this for?
Pinkie: This is a holiday tradition I have with Rarity.
(A thought balloon appears overhead, the camera tilting up to it and putting them out of view. Here, Pinkie bows to Rarity and gets a curtsy in return, then brings out a serving tray and lifts its cover to reveal a fresh-baked soufflé. They are wearing the everyday outfits they used at the beginning of the Equestria Girls film series, and this entire sequence is presented as colored-pencil sketches.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Every year, I surprise her with a dessert that’s as elegant as she is.
(It pops and caves in, to their joint dismay.)
Pinkie: (from o.s., glumly) And every year she asks me why it’s all deflated.
(A speech balloon appears, showing Sunset in the throes of great confusion.)
Sunset: Whaaat?
(A wash of cool blue covers the screen, against which two houses pop up from a snowy tract of ground. Trios of pink balloons and blue gems tell whose is whose, and Pinkie emerges from hers with the dessert on a tray and hurries across as a clock ticks backward in the star-filled sky above.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Soufflés are only good for a little while— (Alarm; it caves in.) —and I never get it to her in time.
(The bubble evaporates, leaving the actual baker framed in a determined close-up.)
Pinkie: We have seven minutes to get to Rarity’s house before this soufflé crumples into a soggy yuck-bucket! (Pan to Sunset, eyeing the timer worriedly, on the next line.)
Sunset: Seven minutes? How many friends’ names is that?
Pinkie: Pfft! How would I know? (snatching it away) Gimme that timer, woman!
(An oven-mitted hand twists the dial and starts it ticking, after which Sunset finds herself being abruptly yanked out of the kitchen and into the house’s entrance hall. The two friends waste no time in donning their winter apparel, but Pinkie throws a calculating smile to Sunset as the latter is adjusting one jacket sleeve. The view contracts to a horizontal bar centered on the pink face, whose owner holds up a spare pair of mittens, then returns to fullscreen as these are extended toward Sunset. An unnerved cringe is not enough to stop Pinkie from ramming the mittens on over Sunset’s gloved hands—or adding another coat—or a second pair of boots—or earmuffs—or layer after layer in rapid succession.)
Sunset: Uh, Pinkie?
(A knit cap is jammed down over the red/gold hair, causing the multiple scarves to ride up and obstruct her mouth.)
Sunset: (muffled) Pinkie… (Yet another pair of boots is held up; she loses her cool.) …Pinkie! The time!
(Only now does Pinkie drop the extra footwear and whip out the timer for a check.)
Pinkie: (panicked) Half the time is gone! Why didn’t you say so?
(A hard yank at one scarf’s free end sets Sunset spinning in place like a tornado and strips off her extraneous gear piece by piece, assisted by a few well-timed grabs. Sunset is left badly dazed and back down to her original winter ensemble, and the timer ends up back in Pinkie’s pocket.)
Pinkie: (crossing to front door, soufflé in hand) Now this year I have it all planned out. The route. The speed. The exact angle I need to hunch over at to protect the soufflé from the wind. There will be no deflation this year!
(Determined nods from one to the other, and she is putting a hand to the knob and taking a deep breath. Cut to just outside as she opens the door, a cacophony of yelling voices instantly making itself heard and causing both pairs of eyes to go very, very wide. Pinkie grimaces and yanks the door shut just in time to stop herself and Sunset from taking a barrage of snowballs to the face; a wreath gets it instead and tumbles to the porch. They peek out again once the salvo is spent, and the camera zooms out quickly along the front walk to frame the source of their concern. On both sides of the snow-covered lawn, teams of Canterlot High students have set up fortifications and are in the middle of a full-tilt snowball war; even Granny Smith has decided to get in on the action. Photo Finish hustles up to peek out from the end of one wall and gestures ahead, addressing herself back and o.s.)
Photo: You go!
(This last proves to be directed at Snails, who darts out past the wall with an armload of ammo and lets one fly. Pan quickly across to the other side; a boy gets hit and falls, but promptly sits up to shake his head clear and pulls out his cell phone for a picture. Winona, the Apple family’s dog, leads two other boys out so they can loose their rounds; the second of these takes a hit to the arm almost as soon as he has thrown. Twilight moves up behind the wall on her side, a double armload of snowballs in tow, and steels herself for an attack. She barely gets out in the open before a well-placed throw sends her to the ground, though. Farther back, Bon Bon and Lyra Heartstrings have teamed up, the former shaping balls for the latter to pitch; still elsewhere, Bulk Biceps stands up from within a drift while lifting a jumbo-sized chunk overhead. He yelps in fright and drops back into the pile, letting the snow fall in above him as a shield for the volley that zeroes in on him.)
(Pinkie’s scared blue eyes shift from one side of the lawn to the other, then down to the soufflé she is cradling, and the brows lower grimly before she and Sunset make a break for it. Her sister Maud steps up to the still-open front door, showing an irritated grimace that does not shift one iota even after she takes a few hits, and pulls it closed with perhaps a bit more force than strictly necessary. Applejack hauls herself up and shades her eyes to peer across the way from a stretch of wall set with an apple-marked flag; cut to Pinkie and Sunset running along the walk. On the start of the next line, zoom out to frame the blonde pointing them out to the other combatants.)
Applejack: AMBUUUUUSH!!
(The two couriers go into a yelping shuck-and-jive to avoid the frozen ordnance coming their way and dive over a wall for cover. Pinkie winds up sliding across the snow on her belly, arms extended and empty; she gasps at the absence of her soufflé, only to see it land neatly and intact in her hands.)
Pinkie: Phew!
(A sigh from the o.s. Fluttershy catches their ear; zoom out to frame the timid teen sitting behind an adjacent stretch of wall and suffering from a bad case of battle fatigue.)
Fluttershy: We’ve been pinned down for hours, with no reinforcements and no hand warmers.
Trixie: (from o.s., shivering, reaching shakily up into view) I-I’m cold… (Cut to her, lying nearby on her back.) …s-so cold…
Fluttershy: (helping her sit up) Stay with me, Trixie!
(The hypothermic magician gets a little smile in exchange for her own smirk, leaving Pinkie and Sunset more than a bit perplexed at the overly dramatic exchange. Sunset stands up into full view, arms fully extended to either side with palms out.)
Sunset: Uh, hold up, everyone! Pinkie Pie and I aren’t in the game! (Granny peeks up from her family’s stronghold.)
Granny: What game? THIS HERE’S WAR!!
(She proceeds to rip the top corner off a juice box with her teeth and spit it away. The contents are poured over a snowball in her other hand; Apple Bloom and Big Macintosh follow suit, and all three tense for a throw.)
Granny: FIRE IN THE HOLE!!
(All three projectiles arc toward Sunset, who is saved from stopping them with her face only by a grab from Pinkie to drag her down behind their shelter. The near misses leave snow sprinkled across their heads and shoulders.)
Sunset: One hit and this thing’s finished!
(The baker retrieves checks her timer with great trepidation—not much time left before it hits zero.)
Pinkie: (moaning, smiling sadly) Oh, well. Maybe next year.
(She struggles to hold her tears in check as more globs of snow settle onto Sunset from another close call. The dimension-jumper hazards a look over the wall and finds Twilight laboring to drag herself away under the relentless onslaught. All sounds and spoken lines become partly muted at this point, as if Sunset were suffering from partial hearing loss. More snow patters onto the scarlet/yellow-streaked locks above constricted blue-green eyes and chattering teeth. Elsewhere, Bon Bon and Lyra huddle together under a tree, which provides but scant protection against the incoming rounds.)
Snails: (from o.s.) Uh, has anyone seen my other boot? I can’t find my boot!
(Cut to him on the end of this, having lost one boot and hopping along the walk so as to keep that foot out of the slush. A look here and there, and he fishes it out of a drift.)
Snails: Got it!
(But he is instantly caught in a crossfire and drops it again, toppling into the snow with a yell. Pan quickly to Photo, who crawls into a doghouse and shoves its surprised occupant out, then cut to Bloom somersaulting down the walk. She comes up to a standing position and lets one rip, but a brutal answering salvo very nearly drops her where she stands. A barking Winona rushes in and leaps to take one “bullet” for her, winding up in a furry brown/white heap on the walk. Bloom drops to her knees, letting sorrow turn into a feral scream, and her older sister balances herself on the wall in preparation to heave a snowball as big as she is. The muted effect ends at this point as Sunset realizes, to her horror, that this family plays for keeps.)
Applejack: Real life ain’t the same as them silly old video games you play. Ain’t that right, Sunset?
Sunset: (needled, standing up; she and Pinkie are now clean) Nobody calls Tickle Fruit Two silly!
(Her unsmiling visage contracts into the bottom half of the screen, Applejack’s sliding in to fill the top. Sunset’s image then whisks away and Applejack’s expands to fullscreen; the gargantuan missile is flung toward its target, who now has a ball in hand and stands her ground atop the wall in the face of its trajectory. The action and sound shift to slow motion as she leaps clear of the perch, pushing off from the snowball’s surface for an added boost and sending hers on its way. Sunset scores a direct hit to Applejack’s chest, wringing an agonized yell from her lungs and sending her into a graceless backward tumble. She is caught by Macintosh, and normal speed and sound resume once Sunset comes down from her jump.)
Sunset: Rarity is getting that soufflé— (Cut to Pinkie; Sunset continues o.s. and points at her.) —and you’re gonna get it to her!
(A nod of grim understanding from the pink goofball; cut to frame both again.)
Sunset: Flash Sentry! To me! Double time!
(Her ex-boyfriend races up with all the snowballs he can carry as she jumps down to ground level.)
Flash Sentry: Reporting for duty! (excitedly, as Pinkie crawls away) And seriously, thank you, Sunset, ’cause, like, I’ve been wanting to come on one of your adventures for so long! ’Cause, I mean, you guys do so much cool stuff and I—
Sunset: (sternly) Flash? (Cut to him.)
Flash: I promise I won’t mess this opportunity up!
Sunset: (from o.s., putting a finger over his lips) Whatever! Stop talking! (Both again.) Are you ready?
Flash: (cockily) I was born are-you. (catching himself, deflating a bit) Ready.
(Nodding solemnly, Sunset gets a bit of snow on her index fingertips and smudges it under each eye, much as professional athletes use eye-black to reduce glare from the sun. The two dart onto the walk and away from the house, Flash laying down suppressive fire and Sunset scooping Pinkie up like a football. A low throw finds Flash’s ankle and sends him to the stones, but Sunset continues her rush with only the briefest of backward glances spared. He sits up with a grunt, snow plastered all over his head/chest/arms.)
Flash: Well, that was embarrassing. (calling after the girls) Go on without me! I’ll be fine!
(The lack of any acknowledgment for his heroic “sacrifice” takes the wind out of him so badly that he hardly flinches at a snowball to the side of the head. Several dozen yards ahead, Sunset drops to a crouch and lets go of Pinkie.)
Sunset: Pinkie! RUUUNNNN!!
(Pinkie does so, just barely getting clear of a barrage that takes her escort down.)
Sunset: Ow!
Pinkie: SUNSET!!
(She doubles back to the inert form and tentatively gets hold of one shoulder to roll it onto its back. Sunset’s dazed face is now exposed, its entire right half hidden under frigid white mush.)
Pinkie: SUNSET!!
Sunset: (coughing weakly, trying to sit up) Tell Rarity—ow!
Pinkie: You okay?
Sunset: (pulling a ring of keys from a hip pocket) Yeah, I fell on my keys. Go! Go!
Pinkie: Right. Bye! (She clears out.)
Sunset: (wiping snow off herself) All right! Who threw those cheap shots?!? (Stand up; point off to one side.) Was it you?!?
(Pan to follow her accusing finger over to Bulk, still hunkered down in his makeshift bunker; he stands up, snowball in hand.)
Bulk: I’m a conscientious objector!
(The great lummox proceeds to take a pelting from every conceivable direction. Cut to a stretch of winter sky and tilt down to frame Pinkie crawling toward the curb, her belly pressed to the frozen ground so she can stay as low as possible. The ringing of the kitchen timer stops her cold, and she pulls it out and shuts it off with a forlorn whimper.)
Pinkie: (sobbing, eyes tearing up) Oh, my sweet little soufflé! (Her perspective of it.) All I ever wanted was for you to be torn apart and digested by my friend Rarity— (Back to her.) —so she could feel the same kind of joy she brings to me. (She flops face-first into the snow.)
Rarity: (from o.s., gasping happily) Is that this year’s soufflé?
(The heartbroken kid lifts her eyes as the camera zooms out to frame the fashionista’s booted feet on the sidewalk. Pinkie brightens with a gasp of her own; cut to Rarity, dressed for the cold.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Rarity? (Cut to frame both.) Where did you—? How did you—? (She stands up…) Wait, tell me later. (…and presents a fork.) Eat!
(The utensil is taken, and the tines remove a morsel and deposit it for a careful chew and swallow.)
Rarity: (smiling broadly) It’s heavenly!
Pinkie: (pumping a fist) YES! I finally did it!
(A snowman behind them trembles briefly and the head and arms fly off, replaced by those of Rainbow who was hiding inside.)
Rainbow: Ha-ha! Sneak attack!
(Pinkie and Rarity back off a step to either side and turn to face her, now one bare blue hand can be seen gripping a snowball.)
Rainbow: (throwing it) Bet you weren’t expecting this!
(Back to her two targets, Rarity casually stopping both this attack and the several that follow it with a gem shield. Upon dispelling it, she and Pinkie are treated to the sight of one dumbfounded assailant.)
Rainbow: Aw, no fair! I spent two days as a snowman for that!
(A snowball to the gut sends her backward to the turf in a yelling, graceless heap, and Pinkie and Rarity laugh over the counter-offensive. “Iris out” to black, the aperture centered on the soufflé; it pauses long enough for Rarity to fork up another bite before closing.)
“The Cider Louse Fools”
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a slow pan across the house and barn at Sweet Apple Acres, seen from the curb. It is daytime, and the barn doors stand open to give a view of the goings-on inside. Bloom is bringing in a basket of apples, followed by Winona, and Applejack is positioning a large tub set up on support legs as Twilight watches. Macintosh is out front, attaching an awning to a small wheeled cart full of fruit, and within seconds he is catching up to Bloom with a basket of his own. She sets her load down and wipes her forehead, but the sight of an apple floating free in Twilight’s aura brings them both to a puzzled stop. The bespectacled student effortlessly floats up the contents of Bloom’s basket; once Applejack places the tub just so, they drop neatly into it. Applejack dusts off her palms as Granny enters, carrying a large jar, funnel, and length of rubber hose. Setting these down, the lunch lady plugs the hose into a spigot set low on the side of the tub and opens the valve. Lanterns and strings of pennants hang from the rafters, and crates and hay bales have been set up to serve as tables. Tubs and bags of popcorn stand ready as snacks.)
Twilight: (to Applejack, touching her shoulder) Thank you so much for inviting me to your family’s holiday party! Would you say the Apple Family Annual Holiday Harvest and Cider-Making Fest is more of a mulling fest or a chilling fest? (The preparations continue; Bloom, barefoot, starts stomping the apples in the tub.)
Applejack: (draping a cloth over a crate) Don’t you fret. It’s always a blast— (sourly) —well, aside from when the Flim Flam Brothers make their appearance.
Twilight: Huh? (Slow pan.)
Applejack: They make it a tradition to swindle my family at the Harvest and Cider-Makin’ Party. One year, they took all our ladders in the middle of the party!
(Dissolve to the three siblings approaching a stand of laden apple trees at which ladders have been set up. Each is carrying a bucket, and Applejack is in the work clothes she used in “Five to Nine.” A gust of wind causes the ladders to waver and sway wildly, spooking them enough to stop dead and Applejack/Macintosh to drop their buckets, and Bloom follows suit as Granny joins them to run her own bemused eyes over the scene. Applejack shoves her way past the others, the view briefly fading to black in time with her move toward the camera; from here, snap to a close-up of one ladder joint, showing it to be constructed from tape and toilet paper. Applejack rips this down and lets her scowl tell just what she thinks of this prank, picking up an unused roll and hurling it toward the rest of the family to drive the point home. It strikes Macintosh in the chest, bounces up over his head, and unfurls itself on him to the tune of several feet. Applejack can only grin sheepishly at her outburst.)
Applejack: (voice over) We had to improvise.
(Now Granny directs Macintosh to walk toward one of the trees with frenetic hand signals. The camera is positioned so that the top of his head is cut off by the upper edge of the screen, and Applejack is seated on his shoulders with a bucket in each hand. He totters back and forth in a desperate attempt to keep his balance, and a tilt up puts Bloom at the top of the pile—kneeling on Applejack’s shoulders and reaching to pluck apples from the tree. Gravity gets the better of them, however, and Apples and buckets go crashing to the ground.)
Applejack: (voice over) Another year…
(Dissolve to Applejack picking fruit from one of the trees—and using an actual folding ladder this time—under Granny’s supervision.)
Applejack: …they de-bottomed our baskets!
(The fruit is tossed to the matriarch, who lifts a straw basket for a clean catch—but it instantly drops out through the bottom. She looks down into the vessel; cut to her perspective, the apple framed neatly through a hole cut in the woven reeds. Granny lifts it to peer at Applejack, who glowers at the sabotage.)
Applejack: (voice over) Last year…
(Dissolve to a close-up of a small gift box on a table inside; on the next line, the lid flips away and a small worm peeks out.)
Applejack: (voice over) …they gave Apple Bloom a pet worm.
(The young redhead instantly becomes smitten with the invertebrate, picking it up on a finger and cuddling it to her cheek despite visible consternation from her brother and sister. Applejack is in her regular outfit now. Bloom and the worm frolic in a meadow, then share an ice cream soda with two straws; the worm slithers up into its own, and Bloom gags in disgust at the thought of having accidentally swallowed it. Her fears are quickly allayed when it pops up from the cloud of whipped cream on top of the soda, lifting the cherry on its head. Next she pushes it on a tire swing hanging from a tree branch, the action shifting briefly to a slow-motion close-up of each shiny-eyed, ecstatic face in turn, and carries it laughing through the orchards. Applejack and Granny smile gently after her, but their good cheer dissipates in short order when the baskets of apples surrounding them begin to tremble under their own power. The vibrant red skins rupture under the emergence of one worm after another, and Macintosh joins the two in the orchards, shock registering on his face as Applejack claps a disgusted hand to her own.)
Applejack: (voice over) Colonel Wigglesworth and all his friends ate up every last apple we had.
(The end of this line is marked by a dissolve back to her in the here and now so she can finish the tale in person.)
Twilight: (gasping softly) That’s horrible. And to think bow ties used to be a symbol of integrity that only cool people wore!
Applejack: (smiling, patting her shoulder) Oh, honey, you’re thinkin’ of bolo ties. (socking fist into palm) Anyway, this year we’re settin’ traps for those no-good Flim Flam Brothers. If they try anythin’ slippery, then things are gonna get sticky.
Twilight: (patting Applejack’s shoulder, putting an arm across both) Applejack, I promise if you let me come up with a plan, we can out-bamboozle those bamboozlers!
Applejack: (laughing, socking fist into palm) I was hopin’ you’d say that!
Bloom: Yes!
(Granny and Macintosh add cocky smiles and nods of their own while shifting supplies around. All four Apples gather in the barnyard, sitting down with a pig and chicken, as Twilight wheels in a blackboard on a rolling frame. The side facing them is blank; they lean forward intently, and the young genius grabs the top edge and heaves downward to spin the board on its mounts, dislodging a chicken that had been roosting up there. When the whirling rotation ends, the flip side stands exposed to show off a dense conglomeration of graphs, sketches connected one to the next, and a drawing of the Flim Flam Brothers’ faces marked out with a circle-and-slash. Seeing general confusion on her audience’s faces, Twilight fumbles in her pockets but comes up short of anything to help explain her plan. A clucking noise from o.s. below catches her by surprise; cut to the evicted chicken, poking her leg for attention and carrying a stick in its beak. Twilight accepts the item and begins to use it as a pointer, indicating various portions of her scheme so the Apples can start to catch on.)
(A hail of apples tumbles past the camera, the view wiping behind them to Applejack and Bloom both on apple-stomping duty in the barn. Applejack has changed into her “Five to Nine” outfit, shed her boots, and rolled up her pant legs. The liquid product of their efforts is draining from the tub’s spigot and through the rubber hose into a smaller container, which Macintosh removes and places on a table for Twilight’s consideration. She samples a bit of cider on a fingertip, grins at the taste, and brings up a jug with a funnel already placed in its mouth. Macintosh answers her thumbs-up with one of his own and pours the load in, while she sticks a label on the side that depicts an apple with a droplet falling from it.)
(A wave of cider washes past the camera and drains away, changing the view to a close-up of an apple-marked box with an open, hinged lid and a crank protruding from one side like a jack-in-the-box. Bloom—now wearing her boots again—has this device out on the porch and is trying to stuff a net into it as Twilight carries a box across the yard. She gets it loaded and closes the lid, only to have it pop open and cover her with the net. For her second try, she wads it up and stomps on it to pack it down; however, the lid still refuses to remain shut and deposits the net on her. Attempt number three finds Bloom out in the yard and the box in a press; after a few turns of the handle to compress the net, she closes the lid and gingerly backs away. It remains inert…she beams in triumph…and then the box ejects the net onto her yet again. She struggles to get loose of it, frustration coming clear on her face, but one swift yank by Applejack—back in her usual outfit, boots and all—sets her whirling in place and removes it. Bloom barely has time to get over the resulting dizziness before her big sister has the net in a neatly folded bundle. A casual toss lands it in the box and causes the lid to fall shut; Bloom seethes quietly at having been shown up.)
(Cut to Twilight tying a blindfold across Macintosh’s eyes. Applejack arrives just in time to see him stumble off on a random path and be redirected by his guide. He is left standing in the middle of the yard as Twilight acquires a shovel, which she presses into his hands. Even though he cannot see, he plies the tool against dirt and sod as she watches with a smirk. Inside the barn, Granny begins filling the tub with water from a garden hose, then dispenses pepper from a grinder into the vessel. Here comes Twilight.)
Twilight: Hmm… (She takes a taste and grimaces.) …yecch!
(Giving Granny a thumbs-up, she hefts a jug whose sticker displays a pepper shaker and covers this with one for cider. The container is placed into a wooden chest, sitting on the ground with its lid open; cut to within it, the camera pointing up at five quietly satisfied faces, as Applejack closes the lid to black out the screen. Macintosh no longer has the blindfold or shovel.)
(Fade in to the exterior of the barn, its doors closed, then cut to Applejack and Bloom standing at them inside. The camera is placed at ground level a short distance away, framing the silhouettes of two other pairs of legs in the fore.)
Bloom: Nobody’s talkin’. They’re just standin’ around. (Close-up of the sisters.) I guess a cider party ain’t much fun without cider.
Applejack: (thoughtfully) Huh.
(She turns away from Bloom, the camera panning slightly to frame Twilight on her other side.)
Applejack: You sure this is the best way to fool the Flim Flam Brothers?
Twilight: It is in fact the only way. (adjusting glasses) I triple-checked my game theory matrix. Those no-good grifters are gonna offer a fake diamond for the party’s eponymous cider. (touching Applejack’s shoulder) We’ll play along, and by the time they figure out we sold them pepper-and-salt water— (crossing barn) —we’ll be celebrating our victory with the real cider—
(She stops near a pair of refreshment tables, the figures of Cheerilee and Scootaloo visible behind her. On the next line, the camera zooms out to frame more party attendees, including Sandalwood and Sweetie Belle, and she rests one foot on the chest. The new arrivals are oddly motionless.)
Twilight: —which is hidden in here.
Applejack: (uncertainly) I hope you’re right.
Twilight: Trust me.
(Comes now the creaking of the doors, accompanied by the shadows of two figures stretching toward the conspirators. Applejack turns toward the doors an instant before the camera cuts to them, framing the hucksters. They have traded their previous blue/white-striped vests for sweater vests done in broad panels of these two colors, with blue edging at the collar and their cutie-mark pins attached.)
Flim: Greetings!
Flam: Salutations!
Flim: No tricks this year.
Flam: Cross our hearts of gold.
Flim: Speaking of gold, how would you feel about selling us your cider? (Cut to an uneasy Twilight/Applejack and back as he continues.) For the generous sum of…
Flam: …let’s say…
Flim: …oh…
Flim, Flam: (gesturing dramatically) …this genuine, real-life diamond?
(They each wind up with one arm raised at an angle toward the other, the sizable jewel in question appearing in the niche where the two limbs cross. Twilight smirks at Applejack, both of them pleased at the accuracy of the former’s prediction so far. Wipe to Flim placing a jug in the open trunk of a car at the curb and closing the lid, then cut to Applejack waving from the barn doors.)
Applejack: Y’all come back next year, you hear?
(The brothers drive off, and she and Applejack shut the doors and exhale silently in relief. After a long, tense beat, the camera zooms out to frame the whole family on the following; the next three lines overlap.)
Applejack: Yee-haa!
Bloom: (hugging Macintosh) That was amazin’!
Granny: We did it!
Applejack: (chuckling) Twilight was one step ahead of ’em from start to finish. (as all stand over chest) let the real Apple Family Annual Holiday Harvest and Cider-Makin’ Fest begin!
(The camera is behind it and at ground level for this shot, so the interior is not immediately visible when she triumphantly raises the lid. However, the thunderstruck expressions that settle onto four of the five faces tell all too soon that something is not right. Only Twilight maintains her composure.)
Applejack: Whuh-oh.
(Close-up of the chest, zooming in by steps on the whole lot of nothing it contains, then cut back to the three younger Apples. Applejack rummages inside.)
Applejack: Where’s the real cider? (lifting chest, passing it to Macintosh) Did they take the real cider?
(The move exposes a large hole cut in the bottom; now Bloom and Granny lean in closer, Bloom adding her stunned gasp to Applejack’s. A tunnel has been dug up through the earth, positioned to coincide with the unauthorized bit of carpentry as an underground route for swiping the goods.)
Bloom: Aw, man!
Applejack: That ain’t fair! They must’ve known about the switcheroo and double-reverse switcheroo’d us right back!
Twilight: (darting to hole, then to doors) Unless I knew they’d double back and take the real cider using a series of tunnels I dug, knowing they’d find them and use them, ensuring that when they emerged right outside the front door, they’d get…trapped in a net!
(This, then, would explain her earlier tactic of having Macintosh dig while blindfolded.)
Applejack: (standing up) Did you do that?
Twilight: (opening doors) You tell me.
(Now it is her turn to be gobsmacked, finding Flim and Flam standing out by their car and very much un-netted.)
Applejack: (dryly) Nope.
Twilight: Uhhhhh…
Flim: (as Flam holds up the still-loaded net-in-a-box) Looking for this?
(None of the five can muster up any response as the mustachioed sibling begins to turn the crank, the camera tilting up slowly from his and Flim’s feet in close-up.)
Flam: Nobody outsmarts the Flim Flam Brothers. Oh, thanks for the…cider!
(The lid pops, ejecting the net toward the camera and blacking out the screen. Snap immediately to the barn interior, Applejack ducking hastily to avoid being ensnared. It settles over the party guests, who still have not shifted even a fraction, and the camera is now close enough to reveal why: they are actually cutouts made from cardboard or plywood. Twilight and the family boggle at Flim and Flam, the latter having set the trap aside.)
Flim: Time to go!
Flam: See you next year!
Flim: (holding up cider jug) Oh, and one more thing.
(Close-up of it; he rips off the sticker to reveal the pepper-shaker one for the trick batch Granny prepared, then throws the jug contemptuously into the barn for Twilight to catch. Back to him and Flam.)
Flam: (bowing mockingly) Enjoy your pepper water!
(Turning their backs to the suckers, they vocalize a short vaudeville-style musical stinger, click their heels, and are in their car and gone before anyone can react. Twilight finally voices a heavy sigh, letting her head droop just enough so that a stray reflection of sunlight on her glasses briefly whites out her eyes.)
Applejack: Guess this party’s over.
Twilight: (smiling) Actually, it never got started.
(A few steps later, she has put the jug aside and is pulling the net away. A push sends the Cheerilee standee toppling forward to crash flat on the ground. Cut to Bloom and Macintosh.)
Bloom: (smiling) No wonder Scootaloo was so quiet. (Pan to Applejack and Granny on the next line, the former holding her hat.)
Applejack: (donning it) But—who—h-how’d you—
(Back to Twilight, who gets the jug in one hand and a chicken-shaped clock in the other.)
Twilight: These clocks are all wrong. (setting clock down, crossing to pick up a mug) The real party doesn’t start for another twenty minutes.
(She cheerfully pours herself a drink and takes a long pull, the color giving it away as the real thing despite its label.)
Twilight: (setting jug on table) Mmm! Delicious!
Applejack: (smiling, catching on) You didn’t switch the cider, did you? (Bloom pokes at the Scootaloo standee.)
Twilight: (picking it up) Mmm-hmm.
(And off comes the label to expose one for cider.)
Granny: (laughing) Surprise me once, shame on you. Surprise me twice, shame on me! Surprise me three times, the fourth surprise gonna be on you! (Whooping, she runs out to address the street.) You’re the surprised ones! (A long spate of cackling follows.)
Applejack: (mind blown) Huh. Wow. I…I don’t know what to say. (Twilight crosses to her with two mugs.)
Twilight: How about “cheers”?
(She passes one over, and the two friends clink them together in a toast and laugh. Fade to black.)
“Winter Break-In”
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to an extreme close-up of a paper cup being carried by Pinkie. She is in her winter togs; the same will be true of the other girls when seen next. Zoom out to frame her walking down a corridor whose walls are lined with roll-up doors—a self-storage facility. The camera motion brings Twilight partly into view.)
Pinkie: (with mounting giddiness) It’s winter break, I have hot cocoa, and we’re about to bring a giant wagon of toys to little kids!
(Gasp; long shot, framing all seven girls on the move, Fluttershy with an owl perched on one arm. Twilight and Pinkie stop.)
Pinkie: This is the best day ever!
(A sniff at the cup, a glance down into it, and her eyes widen.)
Pinkie: Is that…a marshmallow?
(A close-up of the contents picks one out, bobbing among a swirl of tiny sugar stars.)
Pinkie: (laughing, on verge of tears) Oh, today just got better!
(She voices an ecstatic squeal as Twilight shepherds her along the corridor. Cut to Applejack and Sunset farther ahead.)
Applejack: Mighty kind of you to let us keep all these toys in your storage locker, Sunset. I didn’t have the space after Granny Smith converted our barn into a hot-yoga studio. (Both stop, Sunset thrown for a loop.)
Sunset: No biggie.
(The rest of the group gathers around them at one particular door.)
Sunset: (tapping it) Nice to finally use this darn thing. I’ve been paying monthly and I never use it.
Twilight: What is it, a gym membership?
(She voices a snorty laugh at this morsel of wit, but gets no takers from the rest of the gang and lets it drop.)
Twilight: Let’s just open the locker.
Sunset: (suddenly a bit uneasy) Yeah. Good idea, Twilight. You know, the Toys for Kids Festival’s gonna start soon, so…just open the lock with the key. (holding out one hand) Pinkie?
(Blue eyes blink confusedly for a long moment.)
Pinkie: Oh! I gave the key to Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow: I gave it to Fluttershy.
Fluttershy: (indicating owl) And I entrusted it to Chad. Do you have it, Chad?
(The bird emits an inquisitive hoot and glances toward Rarity, phone in hand.)
Rarity: Oh, right, the key! (gesturing o.s.) I put it in a charming little bag and I gave it to you.
(A cut to Sunset puts her on the receiving end of these words.)
Sunset: Yeah… (softly/hastily, face falling) …and I left it in my locker.
Rainbow: Oh, no worries. We’ll just run down to the school, get the key, and we’re back in business. (All but Twilight head out.)
Twilight: Uh, school’s closed. Heh.
(Seeing that they are not to be thwarted by this minor technical hitch, she groans to herself and hustles to catch up. Fade to black, then snap to just inside a pair of closed glass doors. Sunset tries in vain to push and pull them open from the other side with a frustrated growl, the other six a pace or two back under a daytime sky. Finally she gives up, the camera cutting to an overhead shot of the septet on the front steps of Canterlot High. Rarity has put her phone away, Pinkie has disposed of her cocoa, and the lawn is covered with snow.)
Twilight: (dryly) Like I said, school’s closed for winter break.
Rarity: Well, this won’t do at all! Without the key, there’s no toys, and that means those adorable children at the Toys for Kids Festival are going to open empty boxes!
Rainbow: (shuddering) That’s worse than clothes!
Rarity: (sputtering indignantly) Excuse me?!
Sunset: Not on my watch. I have a plan. The school doors might be locked…
(Dissolve to an overhead shot of the building, panning slowly across; the girls are now gone. The image dims, turns to black and white, and recedes into the left half of the screen so a grim-faced Pinkie and Sunset in full color can advance across the roof. They have changed into dark gray bodysuits and have goggles with large green lenses propped on their foreheads. The left half tiles itself with three close-ups of the two, going to dim monochrome as all four pairs set their eyewear in place.)
Sunset: (voice over) …but the air vents aren’t.
(Horizontally split screen: seen from two different distances, they fix ropes with grappling hooks to their belts and Sunset opens a ventilation grate. The screen quickly re-tiles itself to show an elderly janitor walking the corridors on the left half and two grayed-out images of a wall-mounted control panel on the right.)
Sunset: (voice over) Fortunately [sic], the hallway has a motion sensor security system— (Full color; he stops and enters a code.) —which we’ll have to hack into and disable.
(Gray out and re-tile. Top half: Twilight in her bedroom at home, typing at a laptop.)
Sunset: (voice over) That’s where Twilight comes in.
(Bottom half: two different angles of the screen and keyboard. The three fields go gray, one by one, and a colored fourth image appears at top right: the janitor turning away from the panel. Another re-tile: Twilight’s laptop in color on the left, a green check mark appearing on the screen; Pinkie and Sunset at bottom right. There follows a flurry of new images, which shift from color to black and white and take up different sections of the screen. The janitor ambling away…Twilight shifting attention from her computer to her phone…Pinkie and Sunset dropping in through the opened grade and using their hooks/ropes to rappel into the corridor…Fluttershy receiving a text message from Twilight and dispatching Chad toward the front doors of Canterlot High.)
Sunset: (voice over) Once we’re in, we’ll need a distraction so the janitor doesn’t see us.
(The owl flutters and hoots just beyond the glass…the janitor moves in for a better look…Pinkie and Sunset risk a peek around a corner…having been let in, Chad harries the old man and sends him screaming for cover…Pinkie flips a thumbs-up to Sunset, who opens her locker, props goggles on forehead, and retrieves a small, ornately decorated paper bag…a key is extracted, strung on a loop of chain with a charm shaped as her cutie mark…the covert operatives slip away as the janitor keeps fleeing from Chad.)
Sunset: (voice over) I’ll grab the key, and we’re out.
(Outside, the girls stroll away from the building as if they own the place. Pinkie and Sunset are back in their cold-weather outfits, and all seven are wearing identical sunglasses. One final split-screen view dissolves to a fullscreen, fully colored close-up of the master planner as she dons a pair of these shades.)
Sunset: Any questions?
Twilight: (from o.s., raising a hand into view) A few.
(Cut to her, open notebook in hand and not at all convinced that this is a good idea.)
Twilight: You do know that you’re describing breaking and entering, right?
Sunset: Well, y—
Twilight: (checking pages) And Fluttershy is friends with animals, sure. And she’s not gonna use them to attack our janitor.
Sunset: (flustered) Not attack, exactly.
Twilight: And finally, climbing through a vent is dangerous, and if a young person saw us doing it, they might try to imitate it and get hurt.
Sunset: (sighing dejectedly, removing sunglasses) Then I guess it’s game over.
Pinkie: (pulling out and donning a pair) Except game not over, ’cause ch-ch-check out my awesome plan! (Zoom in on her.) Here’s what I’m thinking.
(Wipe to a close-up of her in the kitchen at her house, putting on the apron she used in “Saving Pinkie’s Pie” and collecting ingredients from a cabinet.)
Pinkie: (voice over) First, we bake a dozen pistachio cream cupcakes.
(Components are scooped and meticulously measured, after which the view shifts to the same re-tiling, color/monochrome collage style as Sunset’s plan. Pinkie mixes a bowl of batter…the cupcakes go into the oven…then are removed…and held up, fully frosted, on a platter…and set down before the front steps of Canterlot High.)
Pinkie: (voice over) Then, we leave them outside Principal Celestia’s office to lure her out.
(One image, a close-up of the corner of Celestia’s desk, expands to fill the screen and show her seated here and typing at her computer. As the aroma from the baked goods drifts in and she stands up to get a lungful, the tiling resumes. She leaves her desk…emerges into the anteroom of her office…and then outside to find the cupcakes at the bottom of the steps, leaving one door ajar.)
Pinkie: (voice over) Once she’s out, and while the door’s still open— (She twirls a lariat of red licorice, seen in triplicate.) —I’ll use my licorice-whip lasso to catch the door handle.
(Three images of the loop cinching around the handle of the open door and snapping taut present themselves, and one expands to fullscreen as the other six Rainbooms scramble in. Pinkie runs in after them, eating the lasso as she goes, and makes it inside just as Celestia stands up eating one cupcake and carrying the platter. She aims a puzzled glance this way and that, but finds nothing amiss and goes back to enjoying the unexpected dessert. Tiling resumes again, with Sunset opening her locker and plucking out the bag with the needed key, and yields to fullscreen again just as quickly. Pinkie throws a furtive glance around one corner as the other six celebrate at the locker.)
Pinkie: (voice over) Then, when we get the key…
(A tiling of her keeping watch…smiling slyly…pulling a box of candy from her hair…opening it…and chomping down a handful to leave smears across her mouth.)
Pinkie: (voice over) …that’s where these chocolate-covered crunch nuggets come in!
Pinkie: (on screen, mouth full) Mmm!
(Her mind’s-eye plot ends with a cut to a close-up of her and a zoom out. She is in fact eating the sweets, and Sunset has put her sunglasses back on.)
Sunset: (propping them on forehead) What are those for? (Close-up of Pinkie.)
Pinkie: To eat, silly! After all this heisting, we’re gonna be hungry. (lowering shades) Any questions?
Twilight: (from o.s.) Actually, yeah. (Cut to her, still with notebook at the ready.) So how are we supposed to bake two dozen cupcakes before the Toys for Kids Festival, hmmm?
Pinkie: Uh—
Twilight: And I don’t think a licorice lasso is a real thing.
Pinkie: Mmm—it could be.
Twilight: And once again, this is trespassing. Come on. Someone has to have a plan that’s not a crime.
Applejack: (groaning, clapping hand to temple) We got powers. I’m sick of not usin’ our powers! I want to use our powers!
(Wipe to an extreme close-up of a patch of Canterlot street as the front wheel of a motorcycle skids into view and stops. The chassis is red/orange/yellow, and the apple on the boot covering the foot that steps onto the pavement can only be Applejack’s. Zoom out and tilt up to frame all of her, sunglasses on and safety helmet resting on the seat behind her; she lowers the shades for a hard look at whatever is to her left, and the tiling/monochrome effects start anew. The smirking blonde strides across the lawn, framed from three different angles…in fullscreen, she stops before the pedestal on which Canterlot High’s Wondercolt statue had stood, tosses the stone from her magic pendant in slow motion, and catches it in a clenched fist. The entire screen burns yellow/white, subsiding to present a close-up of a fist in a glowing, yellow-orange glove with a greenish-white gem set in its back below the fingers. This is whisked away and replaced by a ponied-up Applejack, clad in a bodysuit of this same color and with her pendant changed to yellow, displaying a lozenge-shaped gem in yellow-orange.)
(The fists bang together, shattering the yellow-orange coloration on the arms in favor of the emerald-decorated brown gloves of the sleeveless superhero outfit she gained in Legend of Everfree. A few quick punches and a tensing of the upper body change its clothing, and a mighty leap and pavement-cracking touchdown complete the transformation for her legs. Last to come in are the jeweled green apple clips in her hair, followed by a cluster of neon-glowing red apples in the air behind her. The tiling resumes: she limbers up one arm…interlaces and flexes her fingers to crack every knuckle at once…then steps up to the building and seizes one corner of the masonry at ground level. Snap to black, against which a jagged fissure of light races across the screen and widens to frame the farmer lifting the upper portion with every bit of her super strength.)
Applejack: Apple…
(A long shot and quick zoom out confirm what this camera angle has suggested—that she is tearing the entire structure free of its foundations.)
Applejack: (echoing) …JAAAAAACK!!
(The other girls, now gathered on the lawn, cheer wildly before the view cuts back to Applejack in the present. Her eyes are now hidden behind a pair of shades over a savage grin.)
Twilight: (dryly) Yeah, no.
Sunset: (from o.s.) You know what? Fine. (Cut to her, sunglasses off.) Why don’t you plan the heist?
Twilight: Hmmm…
(She reels out a pair of earphones, slips them into place under her earmuffs, and goes to work as the tiling/monochrome collage starts up once again. The cord is swiftly plugged into her phone…fingers play over the screen…and a landline unit on the corner of a desk begins to ring. It turns out to be parked on the corner of Celestia’s office desk; the summons interrupts her typing and she exits, the slow deliberate advance of her feet down the corridor seen from three different angles. Celestia walks on…the other girls wait apprehensively for the next development, Pinkie with her face clean of chocolate and no one wearing sunglasses…and Twilight works her phone, her image expanding to fill the screen. The tension breaks when she looks up from the device with a grateful smile; behind her, the background dissolves to a corridor in which Sunset is fishing around in her locker. Twilight’s earphones fade away at the same time, and she pockets her phone.)
Twilight: Thanks again for letting us come and get Sunset’s key, Principal Celestia.
(The owner of said key finds the bag containing it and extracts/pockets it with a big smile. A longer shot puts the administrator in the corridor as well—Twilight’s “heist” was the simplest of all: just call in.)
Celestia: Of course, Twilight. (walking away) You know that all you had to do was knock.
Sunset: (whispering, to Twilight) Thank you.
(Dissolve to the upper reaches of the Canterlot Mall and zoom out/tilt down to frame a lively intersection of two corridors. A giant gold-colored horseshoe has been set up as an archway, and the girls are busy handing out gifts to young children—the Toys for Kids Festival is underway. The area has been decorated for the holiday season, including a bell and ribbon bow on the archway and a snowman set up at floor level. The recipients of this bounty offer a plethora of smiles and hugs to the ones providing it and waste no time in testing out their new finds. One boy receives a box from Pinkie and shakes it in hopes of divining the contents, but it slips from his hands and hits the floor with the distinct tinkle of something breaking. His spirits sink, but rise again just as quickly when she hauls a backup present out of her hair and passes it to him.)
Fluttershy: Phew!
Sunset: (sighing with relief, glancing into a large empty sack) Well, that’s the last gift. Now who wants to go cash in some gift cards?
(The others cheer their agreement—all except Twilight, who is out of frame for the moment.)
Sunset: Twilight, where’s that bag I gave you? (The seventh Rainboom pops up in a panic.)
Twilight: I left it at school!
(An instant later, she is utterly calm and collected—and pulling a pair of sunglasses from her coat pocket.)
Twilight: (putting them on over her glasses) But I got an idea.
(Cut directly to the closing credits.)
“Dashing Through the Mall”
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a slow pan across the upper reaches of the festively bedecked Canterlot Mall during the day. Cut/pan here and there among the bustling corridors. Gifts are purchased, carried about, and exchanged between friends; lines snake out the shop doors; and a few excited squeals and hugs pass between givers and receivers. The amiable hubbub ends abruptly in shocked gasps when the vivid contrail of Rainbow’s super speed flashes by to mark her passage and nearly wipes out the decorations to boot. Sneakered feet pound across the tiles and come to a stop at a table in the food court where the other Rainbooms have gathered with a round of drinks.)
Rainbow: (gasping for breath) Sorry I’m late, everybody. Hard to park at the mall at this time of year. (Applejack slurps at her ice cream soda.)
Fluttershy: That’s why we carpooled.
Rainbow: (groaning, pulling out her phone) Really gotta start checking my texts.
Sunset: Why didn’t you just run to the mall?
Rainbow: (laughing, chagrined; phone in pocket) Uh, I learned the hard way that high velocity and icy sidewalks don’t mix well.
Twilight: (with a slightly crazed grin) Now that we’re all here, who wants to go first?
Rainbow: For what? What are we doing?
Twilight: The Secret Present Switcheroo!
(She and the other five each whip out a present, leaving Rainbow positively floored.)
Rainbow: That’s today?
Fluttershy: Remember? We pulled names from Applejack’s boot when she forgot her hat?
Applejack: (cocking an eyebrow) You mean my lucky boot.
Rainbow: (scratching back of head) Ummmmm…
Sunset: Didn’t get that text either, huh?
Rainbow: (rattled) Oh, yeah, n-no! Yeah, uh, I did! Um, I just have to…go to the bathroom!
(She bugs out, very nearly blowing these six off their feet and chairs, and streaks past Bulk as he fumbles his way toward an eagerly waiting Derpy Hooves. The big guy can barely see or keep his balance due to the load of gifts he is hauling, and the speedster’s rush leaves both teens spinning madly in her wake.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Sorry!
(They wind up sprawled on the floor amid a chaos of bags, boxes, and now-loose ribbons.)
Rainbow: I forgot! I can’t believe I forgot to get Fluttershy a present! (Slide to a stop, hyperventilating.) How am I supposed to find a present in the next five minutes?
(It takes her brain a second to catch up and begin processing the information from her surroundings.)
Rainbow: (smiling, slapping forehead) Oh, yeah! I’m at the mall! This is where presents are born! I won’t let you down, Fluttershy!
(A burst of speed brings her to a pet shop and its customer queue, which extends out the door.)
Rainbow: (annoyed) A line?
(She races to a booth offering sunglasses and finds it also to be quite busy.)
Rainbow: (groaning) An even longer line? Really? Come on!
(Sprinting along another corridor, she finds the same circumstances at every storefront up and down the way and snarls in frustration. A trip up to the second floor gives her a bird’s-eye view of the heavy retail traffic, but a glance off to one side gives her pause. Now she sneaks past behind a line, jumping up after every few steps for a peek over the customers’ heads.)
Rainbow: (stopping in a clear spot) Please no line, please no line, please no line…
(Her mood shifts from hopefulness to incredulity as the camera pans slightly to frame an electronics store a short distance away. It is just as crowded as all the others.)
Rainbow: What is with the mall being so crowded on the holidays? (to the crowd at large) SOME OF US HAVE LAST-MINUTE SHOPPING TO DO!!
(No response except a whole lot of odd looks; she groans loudly and slumps on her feet, facing away from the camera. The figure of Fluttershy’s younger brother Zephyr Breeze steps into view to address her back; framed from the waist up, he wears a white golf shirt.)
Zephyr: Need to cut the line?
Rainbow: (turning toward him, eyes closed) Yes! I would do anything!
(Her face goes slack once she fully takes in his presence. A head-on shot reveals the name tag on his shirt and the shelves of gaudily colored items arrayed in the store behind him.)
Rainbow: (hastily) U-Undo! It’s been less than three seconds! Doesn’t count what I said.
(A still-longer shot shows the doorway as being star-shaped, and the dark gray pants and brown belt worn by Zephyr.)
Zephyr: (adjusting belt, winking, giving index-finger guns) Rainbow Dash! It’s all good, Miss Awesome.
(Zoom out as he continues. One side of the entrance is lined with stereo speakers, and his feet are encased in two-tone gray sneakers.)
Zephyr: Come on into Trend of the Line, your home for everything from wi-fi shoelaces to…uh, regular shoes, and… (puzzled) …smaller…shoes? Ugh, how’s it go again?
(The camera cuts to a slow pan across a display of each of the first two items as it is named—the “regular shoes” being flip-flops—and he leans into view for the third. He then turns back to Rainbow, resuming his boisterous demeanor.)
Zephyr: Come on into your home for everything from wi-fi shoelaces to, uh… (deflating again; Rainbow is not impressed) …just plain old regular…shoes and…ugh, how’s it go again?
Rainbow: You work here?
Zephyr: (laughing, scratching back of head) Not for long if I can’t remember our slogan, but yeah. (walking in, beckoning to her) Since we’re buddies, I’ll let you jump the line.
Rainbow: (following) Uh…thanks, but I-I don’t know if “buddies” is exactly the word I’d use. (He keeps moving, she stops and speaks softly to herself.) No, you gotta be nice! But only because you love Fluttershy. (Zephyr turns back, surprised.)
Zephyr: Fluttershy? Follow me, my lady.
(He strikes a casual, spread-armed pose to match that of a dapper old pony mascot atop a display of fidget spinners. Instead of being charmed, though, Rainbow adopts a glare of exasperated disgust. Wipe to a close-up of a ball with a pair of attached ledges for the user to stand on and maintain balance. Rainbow plunks her feet on these and works at staying upright, while Zephyr pulls a boxed basketball backboard from the topmost shelf of a nearby rack.)
Zephyr: This is so Fluttershy. (Rainbow steps off to survey it.) A high-tech basketball hoop, ooh! It yells at you to get good when you miss a three-pointer, so you’re always motivated to reach your athletic performance goals.
Rainbow: Uh…I want that, but…no, I don’t think Fluttershy would.
Zephyr: Cool! I knew you’d love it!
Rainbow: No, no, no, I’m not here for me. I need a gift for Fluttershy.
Zephyr: (throwing her an index-finger gun) Got it.
(As he carries the backboard away, she considers a magic wand topped by a star-covered ball at one end, with a unicorn horn and a ring adorned by pony ears and pegasus wings. Almost as soon as she picks it up, the ball pops open to release a burst of confetti and let a squeaky rubber worm flop out; the horn and ring begin cycling through various colors as well. A tap on the shoulder from Zephyr brings her around to look him straight on—now wearing a virtual-reality headset.)
Zephyr: How ’bout these?
(The shopper drops the sprung wand with a yell of fright, but quickly shifts to admiration.)
Rainbow: Ooh! They look expensive.
Zephyr: They are. And when you wear them, it takes everything you see and turns it into an urban landscape.
(He presses a button on the goggles, bringing up an evening city skyline under attack by a flying saucer; the sight fails to put Rainbow at ease.)
Rainbow: Even forests with cute animals?
Zephyr: Absolutely nonexistent when you’re wearing these bad boys. (The screen fills with static and goes dead.)
Rainbow: Uh…nah. (Zephyr removes the rig.) I-I don’t think Fluttershy would like that.
Zephyr: Right, right, right. My bad, my bad. One sec.
(He carries the defective item away, leaving an irritated Rainbow to do a little more browsing on her own. She happens across a fluffy little plush dog in top hat and bow tie and picks it up with a smile; a little squeeze causes it to emit a happy squeak, but a harder one brings a raspberry sound effect and makes the eyes/tongue/tail bulge out to ridiculous proportions. Shaken, Rainbow returns it to the shelf.)
Zephyr: (from “o.s.,” singsong) Oh, yoo-hoo! Rainbow Da-aash!
(On the end of this, the camera pivots slightly to frame him standing behind her at the opposite wall. He has disposed of the broken headset.)
Zephyr: (chuckling, holding up a plastic hand on a telescoping pole) How about this?
Rainbow: What’s that?
Zephyr: It’s for high-fiving when you’re really far away—or when you’re really short. (between grunts, extending pole toward her) Like…or like…or like maybe…or come on…you know…
(Cut to the jock on the end of this, getting increasingly fed up as the fake hand approaches.)
Rainbow: What?! That’s not a gift! That’s not for anybody! (pushing it away) Who would want this?
Snips: (giggling, walking into view carrying one) Whoa, this thing rules! (running off) Snails is gonna love it!
Rainbow: (to Zephyr) These are your suggestions? Do you even know Fluttershy?
Zephyr: Whom?
Rainbow: (leaning hard into his face) Your sister?!?
Zephyr: (retracting high-five pole) I know, I know, I-I was joking. Sorry, look. I know a gift that will make Fluttershy super-happy. (walking off) I-I’ll grab it for you now.
(Now dangerously close to her last good nerve, Rainbow growls to herself and begins to look over a rack of hair bands with various silly accessories attached—flowers and animal ears. She selects one, tries it on, and manages to be visibly underwhelmed by the effect; it is barely back on its peg before the less-than-helpful employee has returned. The camera angle momentarily obscures the item he now carries in place of the high-five pole.)
Zephyr: Here it is!
(A head-on shot discloses a camera whose housing sports two heart-marked upward projections that somewhat resemble a rabbit’s ears.)
Zephyr: She’ll love it! Instant camera. Around this time last year, Fluttershy’s favorite instant camera broke.
(Cut to Rainbow, who eyes it with genuine interest.)
Zephyr: (from o.s.) She really wanted another one. (Back to him; zoom in slowly.) Get someone something they’d never get themselves. Trust me.
Rainbow: Huh. That’s actually…a great idea! (Laugh.) Thanks, Zephyr! You’re amazing!
(She is gone in a smear of color and speed, instantly stripping the camera from his hands and leaving a couple of bills to float down into them.)
Zephyr: (pointing an index-finger gun after her) Right on!
(Rainbow tears out of the store and past the shoppers; cut to the other Rainbooms at their table in the food court.)
Twilight: And who got Fluttershy? (The seventh member blurs to a stop, hands behind back.)
Rainbow: (out of breath) Standing here the whole time! (She brings out a lumpy, sloppily wrapped package.) Here you go, Fluttershy.
(Close-up of it being handed across on this last, then to Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity. The farmer and the fashionista train icy glares in Rainbow’s direction, but Fluttershy accepts the decrepit parcel with a gentle, gracious smile. The camera cuts back and forth between the fearfully cringing blue girl and the yellow one tranquilly unwrapping the mess of tape and paper. Just when Rainbow looks as if she might bite through her fingers from sheer nerves, a happy gasp floats across from Fluttershy’s direction; back to her, holding the camera.)
Fluttershy: An instant camera? I love it!
Rainbow: (smiling hesitantly) You do?
Fluttershy: It’s perfect for fun candid photos! Zephyr got one for me last year after my first one broke.
Rainbow: (flabbergasted) He did?! (Groan.) I shoulda known! I’m sorry!
Fluttershy: (pulling out a second one) Now that I have two, I can finally do two-angle instant-photo bear cub candids! (giggling, hugging Rainbow) Thank you, Rainbow Dash!
(Wipe to Pinkie opening a gift from Applejack—a miniature party cannon, which she cheerfully fires off over the table to shower it with confetti and streamers. Rarity presents Rainbow with a sleeveless red athletic jersey bearing a white 1 on front and back and gets a monster hug in return; a camera flash, and the two are captured standing side by side in a snapshot, Rainbow wearing it and flashing V-for-Victory while Rarity poses casually. Back at the table; Twilight opens her present from Sunset and is surprised to pull out a giant stuffed parakeet—either the one they won from the Flim Flam Brothers in “Rollercoaster of Friendship,” or an exact match for it. The giver stifles a laugh for some seconds, then lets it out as Twilight follows suit. Another picture is snapped, this one showing them both hugging the oversized toy.)
(Next Applejack opens the box containing Fluttershy’s gift; her face goes slack with shock upon glancing inside, but shifts to a big smile once she extracts a gold-plated hammer. Smiles break out among the observing Twilight, Rarity, and Sunset; another flash, and the view has shifted to a photo of a grinning Applejack alongside Fluttershy. They are framed from above, one yellow arm extending up and out of frame—Fluttershy holding her new camera to take the picture herself. Now Sunset carefully unwraps her present from Pinkie, who hunches worriedly over her to watch the process, and finds a computer game under the paper. She smiles broadly at first, but a further look at the label brings a noticeable degree of strain to her expression as Pinkie hugs her from behind. Fluttershy leans in to immortalize the moment and winds up with a snap of a grimacing Sunset and a cheerful Pinkie who fails to notice the tepid reception, as she has her back to the table.)
(Rarity digs into the box given to her by Twilight and is over the moon to find a hardback book within. She shows it off to Applejack, drawing laughter from both her and Twilight, and Fluttershy’s flash fires off once more to catch her blushing ever so slightly at having been caught reading. Twilight, meanwhile, just snickers over the silliness of it all. The view returns to the tables and the girls enjoying the gifts and each other’s company. Zoom out slowly and pan to Snips and Snails seated at a table of their own; each is holding a high-five pole.)
Snails: You got me the same thing that I got you?
Snips, Snails: (slapping plastic hands together, palm first) High five! (They laugh; Snails begins to sob.)
Snips: You…y-you crying, Snails?
Snails: (wiping eyes, composing himself somewhat) No! Friendship means never having to say “high five”!
(They repeat the gesture. “Iris out” to black, the aperture heart-shaped and centered on the hands; it closes with a final spark of white.)
“O’Come All Ye Squashful”
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then snap to a long overhead shot of Canterlot High during the day. Zoom in slowly through the briskly falling snow and cut to the entrance hall; students are reading and exchanging holiday cards, and Applejack waves to DJ P0N-3 and Octavia on the stairs and climbs to the next floor, passing Bulk and Derpy as they start down. A short distance away are the rest of the girls, who pause in their conversation and locker-rummaging at her approach.)
Applejack: Hey, y’all! Who’s ready for a new holiday tradition? (Cut to Twilight.)
Twilight: Technically, it’s not a tradition if it’s new. Tradition implies something that’s been done before and everyone expects it and—
Applejack: How do y’all feel about startin’ a holiday tradition?
(Finger quotation marks for “startin’.” Cut to a slow pan across the others.)
Rainbow: Eh, sounds cool.
Sunset: I’m in.
Pinkie: Ooh!
Rarity: Fabulous.
Twilight: (petulantly, under her breath) Words matter, people.
Applejack: (pulling out her phone, facing screen to them) Every year for the Apple Harvest Festival, my family sends a theme photo to our friends.
(Tap the screen; close-up of it, presenting all four Apples in homesteader garb.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) This is when we were pioneers. (A swipe shows them in tree costumes.) This year, we were the forest. (Another brings up a lone tree in a meadow.) And last year, we all pretended to be ghosts. (Profile: Twilight leans in for a searching look.)
Twilight: Uh, there’s no one in this picture.
Applejack: Because you can’t see ghosts, Twilight. Sheesh.
Rarity: (crossing to her) Indeed. We’re all familiar with your yearly cards.
Applejack: I was thinkin’ we could all get gussied up and do a holiday photo to send out to the whole school.
(Pinkie grins at the suggestion, while the other five exhibit mild revulsion which they smother with varying degrees of success.)
Rarity: Oh! Good—goody.
Sunset: Oh, man, AJ, I would love to, but I have a—a thing…you know, right now, uh, with Hoops Dunkington. You know Hoops, from Crystal Prep. We’re gonna get…sandwiches. (Applejack stows her phone.)
Applejack: Heh. You’re so funny. Bring him along. He can take the picture.
(Sunset hurriedly checks her phone and adopts an air of fake dejection.)
Sunset: Oh, man! He just…cancelled.
Applejack: We just gotta figure out what we’re all wearin’.
Twilight: I could design it!
Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity, Sunset: NO!! (Sunset has put her phone away.)
Rainbow: Remember when you made us be the quadratic equation for Halloween?
Fluttershy: I didn’t mind that costume.
Rainbow: ’Cause you got to be a plus or minus. I could barely function! (Gasp.) Wait. Was that a math pun? (Nod from Sunset; she groans disgustedly.) You’re ruining me!
Twilight: Ah, don’t be such a square.
(She accentuates the joke by briefly raising her hands with thumbs/forefingers joined to form a rectangle, as if framing a picture, and grins hopefully toward the others. Pinkie obliges by playing a drum sting on an imaginary kit with a very real pair of sticks, but gets only a squint-eyed sidelong glance from the intellectual.)
Applejack: I already decided on the theme. A cornucopia! You know, them goat-horn-shaped basket thingies overflowin’ with flowers, fruit, and corn? (Chuckle.) It’s the symbol of the Apple Harvest Festival! (Pinkie stashes her sticks.)
Rarity: I’ll take the lead on wardrobe. (Next three lines overlap.)
Twilight: (under her breath, snarky) Unexpected.
Fluttershy: Really?
Sunset: (shocked) Whaaaat?
Rarity: Simply tell us the location of the photo, and we will be there.
Applejack: (chuckling) Well, this is the best news ever! Thanks, y’all. I’ll get the auditorium ready for the shoot. See you guys this afternoon!
(Only after she has cleared out does Rarity fully express her true opinion of the project, in the form of a forlorn sigh and slump.)
Sunset: Rarity, are you okay? I think you just offered to do something that you don’t really want to do.
Rarity: (with growing resolve) No, Sunset. Unfortunately, I offered to do something I have to do. As a good, generous friend, I have to save Applejack’s photo shoot. (breezily) I also have the best taste of anyone involved.
Rainbow: (smugly) Yep. Knew there was another reason.
Rarity: (melodramatically) I know not what a goat-horn-shaped basket thing—
Rainbow: A cornucopia?
Rarity: (mumbling through the word) —is, but I can guarantee that I will make us the most fabulous version of that… (more calmly) …that thing that I can.
(Twilight swings in for the assist, showing a picture of a cornucopia on her phone; the very sight causes Rarity to moan and swoon, saved from hitting the floor only by Pinkie’s quick catch.)
Pinkie: Rarity! Are you okay! What do you need?
Rarity: (fiercely) Take me to the drama department’s costume room! Time is running out!
(So the pink dynamo slings the pale designer up over her shoulder like a sack of flour and sets off at a full run while the other four trade very confused looks. Twilight has returned her phone to a pocket by this point. Cut to one end of the room in question, equipped as a typical clothing design workshop with a range of materials and supplies. Twilight looks over a pile of fabrics on a countertop; Fluttershy has a dress in hand and is instructing a few birds perched on a headless mannequin torso; Pinkie is grooving to the rhythm emanating from the boom box she now carries in place of Rarity; Sunset is using her phone. Rainbow blazes across, selects a specimen from the pile laid before Twilight, and takes it to Rarity at the other end of the room. An enormous length of yellow-orange fabric is being put through a sewing machine, matching the newly brought piece, and Rainbow whips back to pick up another load as Rarity works intently with sweat trickling down her forehead.)
(The ace athlete is more than a little puzzled at the next piece she fishes out: a sparkly, bright orange dress with leafy green trim at shoulders and waist in a carrot motif. Shrugging, she whisks it over to Rarity; next Fluttershy carries a glittery purple one over to the mannequin. The birds quickly pitch in, draping it over the form, and the animal lover’s face falls once she sees that it is styled to resemble a bunch of grapes, with a gold belt marked by an emerald. Nevertheless, she soldiers on and leans close to make an adjustment.)
Rarity: I’m going to make this— (Rainbow runs across to her…)
Rainbow: Cornucopia! (…and back…)
Rarity: —so fashionable that people will learn what a— (…and to her again, now somewhat irked.)
Rainbow: Cornucopia!
Rarity: (matching her mood) —is.
Sunset: (talking on phone, gloomily) So no appointments this afternoon?
Twilight: What are you doing, Sunset? (Sunset hangs up and addresses her.)
Sunset: Trying to get any appointment I can for this afternoon. (tapping screen) But my dentist, doctor, dermatologist, podiatrist, and guitar teacher are all booked.
Twilight: You have a podiatrist?
Sunset: I can’t be in this picture, Twilight! We’re gonna look silly!
(Fluttershy, Rainbow, and Rarity cross the room to them, the pale girl carrying an armload of garments.)
Rarity: Yes, Sunset. Yes, we are. But we’re going to be the most fashionable kind of silly there is. (passing them out) As Applejack’s friends, it’s the least we can do.
(Cut to Twilight and Sunset, the latter having disposed of the phone and getting the carrot outfit tossed to her.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) For friendship.
Sunset: (sighing resignedly) For friendship.
(Even the prospect of certain embarrassment is not enough to stop gentle smiles from breaking out on all six faces. Pinkie has now discarded her boom box and is the first to begin suiting up, donning fluffy yellow earrings and a dress done up as an ear of corn, complete with side panels that spring out from the skirt as the partially peeled husk. Rarity pulls on a long green glove and adds flowers to her tied-back hair, and Fluttershy attaches an extra grape to the skirt of the dress she has received. She wears green gloves as well, but wrist-length and trimmed in lighter-hued lace, and a broad, vine/leaf-accented purple/green sun hat goes on over the pink hair. Rainbow slips a green vine bracelet onto one wrist, followed by a leaf-marked high-top sneaker onto a foot. This item is in two shades of red-orange, with a pale yellow toecap and sole that match her leggings; both are decorated with glitter. Sunset, now in the carrot dress, secures a dark gray belt studded with red-orange spikes around her waist; Twilight slides an arm into a loose, puffy, cream-colored sleeve and trades her usual glasses for a pair of round tinted ones.)
(Finally the camera cuts to all six girls and zooms out to frame their gaudy, produce-themed outfits in full. Those not seen earlier: purple eggplant for Twilight, yellow/orange autumn-leaf design for Rainbow; jewel-festooned yellow squash for Rarity. Sparkles figure liberally in every ensemble, and all six have had their hair re-styled in some way. Rarity displays a fixed, half-manic grin, while the others react with varying degrees of mingled surprise and horror at the sheer absurdity of it all.)
Twilight: I would just like to point out that the quadratic formula was better than this.
Pinkie: Yeah? Well, I’m feeling a little husky, so I don’t want to “ear” it. (chuckling, elbowing Twilight) Sorry if that joke was corny— (shrilly) —but it’s all I have right now! (She darts away.)
Fluttershy: Oh, I like my outfit. I’m a bunch of grapes.
Rarity: Let’s just get to the auditorium before anyone sees us!
(A tug at a hidden cord triggers her skirt to puff outward like a hoop skirt, and she steels herself and begins to march toward the camera. Cut to the six on the move through a corridor, some waddling a bit due to the bulk of their clothing and all grunting/mumbling with every careful step. The ringing of the school bell brings them up short, and within moments the area is filled with students leaving the classrooms. Ripples of conversation die out as they get a load of the walking produce aisle.)
Rainbow: RUUUUNNNN!!
(She peels out, her skirt-clad legs visible only as a windmilling blur of festive fall colors, but trips over Snips’ backpack lying on the floor. By the time she slides to an undignified stop on her belly, she has one arm and both feet tangled up in the straps, which stoutly resist her effort to pull free. There follows a spate of jeering, pointing, and phone picture-taking by the closet knot of onlookers.)
Rainbow: Help! I’m stuck!
(The others scatter except for Pinkie, who grins and strikes a pose to show off her corn dress. Twilight’s mincing, off-balance steps carry her into a collision with a couple of rockers, dumping her and them to the floor. Sunset fares no better, stumble-hopping her way past a few laughing spectators; now Fluttershy comes to Rainbow’s aid and starts trying to pull the backpack off.)
Fluttershy: I got you!
(A fleeing Twilight and a sobbing Rarity collide head-on, but end up bouncing away in opposite directions due to the puffiness of their overinflated skirts. Sunset keeps trying to make a hobbling getaway, while Pinkie keeps modeling for the crowd, either unaware of their mockery or unconcerned about it. The impromptu photo shoot comes to an end when Sunset pitches up against her and both topple to the floor.)
Sunset: (irritated) Okay, so now that we’re a laughingstock—
Pinkie: (grinning) Did someone say “stalk”?
Sunset: (snarling) —let’s just get to the picture! Nothing to lose!
(Wipe to a long overhead shot of the stage in the gym and zoom in slowly. Applejack is putting the finishing touches on a giant cornucopia stuffed to bursting with farm-fresh goodness, and a banner with a holiday message is strung overhead. Photo is out front, setting up a camera and tripod on the floor; a lamp has been placed off to one side to light the scene properly. Cut to floor level.)
Applejack: Oh, looks great, Photo Finish!
(The sound of an o.s. door being bashed open draws their eyes away; pan to the other Rainbooms shambling in, Rainbow now free of Snips’ backpack. Applejack is taken aback by the sight of them.)
Photo: What is this?
Rarity: (hesitantly) Well, we…told you we would do this photo shoot of dressing up and w-w-whatnot, Applejack.
Sunset: (dryly) And we put ourselves through quite the ordeal to get here, amidst laughter and judgment. (smiling) But it’s because we’re your friends, and we respect your family traditions. So if we have to look like corn and squash and—
Fluttershy: And grapes.
Rarity: —then we’re willing to do it. We love you, friend.
(Cut to Applejack on this last word and zoom in slowly, a tremulous smile stretching from one ear to the other and giving way at last to a peal of laughter.)
Applejack: What? Granny Smith is the one that made us dress up.
(Cut to a slow pan across the disastrously dressed six during this line, jaws dropping in sheer disbelief.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) I was just sayin’ we should take a picture with the cornucopia set behind us.
(Rarity wearily deflates her dress during this; back to Applejack as she finishes.)
Applejack: (chuckling) Shoulda known when you said “wardrobe.”
(A six-way sigh of combined relief and defeat, followed by a few words whispered into Rarity’s ear by Sunset that bring a calculating smile to the white face.)
Rarity: Ah…we could change… (holding up a garment that resembles a partially peeled apple) …but it would be a shame to waste the ensemble I made for you.
(The farmer gets a chance to cringe now, throwing in a sheepish chuckle and scratch at the back of her head for good measure.)
Applejack: Uh…
(Cut to Photo, who puts an eye to her viewfinder and tweaks the focus just so, then back to the stage. Applejack is now wearing the spare clothing—a sparkly red/green dress whose front resembles a pair of overalls, flaring out over a pair of bloomers the color of an apple’s exposed flesh. Her hair has been wound into two looped braids and set with red barrettes, and her hat is gone. Rainbow and Sunset stand to either side; the others are also on the stage when the view shifts to them, and all address the camera.)
Applejack: Wishin’ y’all a happy holiday, from our cornucopia to yours. Love, Applejack…
Sunset: Sunset Shimmer…
Rainbow: Rainbow Dash! (Cut to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: (sitting) Fluttershy… (To Rarity, her skirt re-inflated.)
Rarity: Rarity… (Tilt up to Twilight, adjusting her hair, and Pinkie.)
Pinkie: Pinkie Pie!
Twilight: …and Twilight Sparkle.
(Photo hits the shutter release, filling the screen with a camera flash that yields to a picture of the broadly smiling septet, Fluttershy and Rarity seated in front of the others. Zoom out slowly, the camera rotating slightly at the same time, and snap to black.)