MY LITTLE PONY: RAINBOW ROADTRIP

Written by Kim Beyer-Johnson

Produced by Peter Lewis

Story editing by Nicole Dubuc

Directed by Gillian Comerford

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Note:                In this transcript, I have chosen to refer to the characters of Petunia Petals and

                Sunny Skies by their full names, in order to avoid any confusion with previously

                introduced characters.

OPENING SEQUENCE

Peppy synthesizer/drum melody with acoustic guitar, fast 4 (D major)

Vocals by Shylo Sharity

(Opening shot: snap to a long shot of Rainbow Dash’s cloud house during the day. Zoom in slowly as a glowing envelope sealed with a rainbow-striped ribbon floats toward it on the breeze, then cut to the bedroom. It drifts onto a table, the aura fading out, and the occupant eagerly nips it in her teeth and shoots toward the ceiling.)

Sharity:                I got your message, the sun is shining

(Tilt up quickly to the sun; she pops up, opening the envelope, and her five friends emerge behind her in a formation similar to a peacock’s tail. The sky tints itself in radiating stripes of their respective coat colors, but with blue instead of white for Rarity.)

                        And the open road is calling our names

(The five rocket away in a burst of cloud, which clears to frame Rarity’s upper-story workroom and living quarters in the Carousel Boutique. She quickly levitates several items—including her cat Opalescence—into a small traveling bag and kicks the cover shut on the fluffy tail.)

                        My bag is packed, so are you ready?

(A rain of apples marks a shift to Applejack standing outside the main barn of Sweet Apple Acres, saddlebags slung up to receive a few fruits as she drops them in. She bounds away, ahead of a smear of rainbow that moves the action to the interior of Fluttershy’s cottage. She lifts off with the handle of a small valise in her teeth, scattering the animals nestling on and around her.)

                        ’Cause to lose this day would be a shame

Acoustic guitar out; electric guitar, bass in

(Another multicolored swoosh, and now Pinkie Pie is stumping a suitcase shut within Sugarcube Corner as her alligator Gummy looks on .Once she has it just so, she takes a moment to sing into a microphone on the end of a cord hanging out the side, then bites down on the strap and hops away.)

Sharity:                There’s a rainbow waiting, a song is playing

(A flash of pink/magenta stripes brings up Twilight Sparkle within her bedchamber in the Castle of Friendship. As Spike watches, she magically shifts masses of books, scrolls, and loose notes into the saddlebags she wears and a second pair standing ready on the floor. Both take flight, the little dragon hauling the extra set and expending considerably more effort than his boss.)

                        And I can’t wait to hit the road with you

(One paper whisks past the camera, wiping the view to these five mares on the move through a grassy tract, Rarity hauling her luggage with magic instead of her back muscles. Zoom in on the bright sun overhead, against which Rainbow flies into view.)

                        There’s a rainbow waiting

(Donning a pair of black sunglasses, she uses her teeth to retrieve a packed bag by its strap from a nearby cloud, She then zooms off, filling the screen with a contrail that subsides to present the title card.)

                        And we got rainbow road-tripping to do

Song ends

(Snap to black.)

Act One

(Opening shot: snap to a long shot of Ponyville, zooming in slowly as a few ponies and critters enjoy the peaceful day, then cut to a slow pan through the considerably busier town square. Pinkie pops up in the fore; she is not carrying any luggage, and the same will be true of the others when seen next, unless otherwise noted.)

Pinkie: (singsong) Road trip! (thoughtfully, as all stop and stare) Okay, not technically a road trip because we’re taking that.

(The camera pivots quickly away from her and stops on “that”—the hot-air balloon that has carried the gang hither and yon so many times, moored on a small platform. Zoom out to frame the outskirts of Ponyville as she takes one hop toward it along the road and hunches down as for the start of a race.)

Pinkie: Mmm-hmm.

(Tongue and hooves get no farther due to the high-speed arrival of Rainbow, which turns her into a whirling blur. The pegasus is not wearing her shades.)

Pinkie: Whoa! (She comes to a dizzy stop on her haunches.)

Rainbow: Beat you to the balloon! (Pinkie recovers and resumes her stance.)

Pinkie: Nope! I’m gonna beat you!

(She is off like a shot, but Rainbow throws her wings into gear and quickly catches up as she hums and hops merrily along.)

Rainbow: Ha-ha! (A burst of acceleration carries her ahead.)

Pinkie: Whoa!

(So she too hits the gas. Cut to a long overhead shot of the road leading through the meadows that border the town. Pink and rainbow streaks mark the racers’ less-than-direct progress toward their goal, accompanied by varied grunts and yells. At ground level, Rainbow finds Pinkie pulling up even with her.)

Pinkie: (bumping her flank) I’m gonna beat you!

Rainbow: (doing likewise) No, I’m gonna— (Her boast turns into a gasp when both glance ahead.)

Pinkie: Eep!

(The camera swivels quickly to stop on the balloon’s basket, with Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity already aboard.)

Applejack: (winking, tipping hat) Howdy.

(Fluttershy waves and giggles softly as Rarity tosses her mane. The surprise throws both Pinkie and Rainbow so far off their game that their race degenerates into an out-of-control, shouting tumble of two equine bodies. After several dozen yards, they break apart and slide to an undignified stop on their bellies. Rainbow is first to pry herself loose, popping into a hover as Pinkie rises to her haunches.)

Rainbow: (sullenly) Okay, I was fourth.

Pinkie: Yeah? Well, I was fifth. (Giggling, she hops toward the balloon.)

Rainbow: (flying after her) That’s not even—

Pinkie: Ha-ha! Yeah!

Rainbow: But I beat you!

Applejack: Y’all are both still late! (opening door in side of basket) We gotta shove off soon or we’ll miss the tailwind. (Pinkie jumps in.)

Fluttershy: Don’t worry. (Applejack shuts the door; Rainbow flies o.s.) We wouldn’t have left without you.

Rarity: Well, that goes without saying, darling. (gesturing upward) After all, Rainbow Dash is the guest of honor at the Rainbow Festival.

(Tilt up to the daredevil hovering overhead on the end of this. She does a circuit around the craft at ludicrous speed and strikes a pose.)

Rainbow: Ha-ha!

Fluttershy: Has anypony seen Twilight? It’s not like her to be late for an adventure.

Twilight: (from o.s.) I’m coming, I’m coming!

(She trots over the last rise as fast as a pair of overstuffed saddlebags will let her, pages fluttering away in her wake. Spike flies after her, sweating profusely and slowed down even more by the backup pair he is struggling to keep out of the dirt.)

Twilight: Sorry. (levitating a quill down to a page on the ground) I just had to pack up a few books and papers to grade.

Spike: (with effort, dumping bags onto platform) And by “few,” she means “slightly less than I’m able to lift”! (He touches down with a grunt; cut to Rainbow.)

Rainbow: Wait. You’re bringing work to a festival?

Pinkie: (from o.s.) Yeah! (Tilt down to her and Fluttershy.) It’s supposed to be a nonstop fun-o-rama party!

(She sweeps the yellow mare into an overenthusiastic hug on this line. Cut to a close-up of Twilight’s quill, dancing across the fallen paper and leaving a trail of red marks to the tune of the o.s. others’ varied comments. As Twilight speaks, Spike pulls the page away and the camera zooms out to frame both; he stows it in the backup bags.)

Twilight: Grading papers is fun. It’s relaxing and rewarding and—

Applejack: —too much to talk about right now.

(She clamps her jaws around the handle of a dangling pull-cord to ignite the balloon’s burner, and the rig starts to rise slowly as Spike strains mightily to heave his bags up and into the basket. He flops back to the platform with a groan once the job is done, and Twilight flies up and in.)

Applejack: Let ’er loose, Spike!

Twilight: Keep an eye on things for me, and feel free to file those class assignments while I’m gone!

Spike: (saluting) It’s my top priority! (He undoes the mooring rope and waves up to them.) Uh, have fun, everypony!

(Twilight and Pinkie return the wave, but the general mood shifts to one of bewilderment as the balloon’s rate of ascent slows from “poky” to “infinitesimal.”)

Fluttershy: Um…why aren’t we going anywhere?

(Pinkie gasps softly under these words, and a longer shot of the platform reveals that they have stalled out only a couple of yards up.)

Applejack: Hmmm…the basket’s too heavy. (Rainbow circles to focus on…)

Rainbow: Rarity? (Twilight and Applejack follow suit.)

Rarity: (indignantly) How dare you! (She floats up a single small bag.) I brought the itsy-est valise.

Applejack: Sorry to do this, Twilight, but…

(Teeth dig into the strap of the bags Spike tossed in and lob them for distance over the side.)

Twilight: My papers!

(They describe a long arc through the air…Spike raises his arms, ready for a masterful catch…and the weight knocks him onto his back in a spray of loose papers and brings up a pained groan. The jettisoning allows the balloon to rise.)

Applejack: They’ll keep ’til we get back.

(Small comfort for Twilight, who slumps against the rail with a dejected moan. Spike, now standing, plucks a free sheet out of the air as Rainbow settles into the basket. Assorted waves are directed down toward him.)

Rainbow: Miss us!

Pinkie: Bye-bye!

Twilight: Keep an eye on things!

Spike: (waving) See you! And remember, whatever happens at the Rainbow Festival, I want to hear all about it when you get back!

(The mares call down a final round of farewells, and soon they are drifting over Ponyville and away into the outlying lands. Cut to Fluttershy, who gets a visitor in the form of a cheeping little bird that settles on an extended hoof, then zoom out to frame several more perched on the head/shoulders of a much less amused Twilight. The Princess blows upward to dislodge a couple from her mane, but they plant themselves right back where they were as she offers a weak little grin. Across the way, a wind gust blows a snoozing Applejack’s hat off, but Pinkie leans just a bit too far over the rail to save it. Rarity seizes the pink midsection to reel her back in, and Applejack snaps awake and yanks both of them to safety. The hat slips out of Pinkie’s grasp, but loops its way back into the basket. As the balloon cruises over a river, Rainbow amuses herself by diving toward it and pulling up just short of splashing into the water.)

(Dissolve to a bird flapping lazily pas the sun and tilt down to Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rarity, the last of whom takes a few moments to file a hoof with a field-held emery board. The bird that had rested on Fluttershy’s hoof is gone, and Applejack has her hat on again.)

Rarity: (sending it away, standing up) Did somepony mention something about a spa in…where is it we’re going again? (Zoom out slightly; Rainbow pops into a hover next to them.)

Rainbow: Hope Hollow—or, as I like to call it… (She zips away to hover just off the side, adding a twirl. The birds annoying Twilight have left.) …Rainbow Dash Fan Central.

Applejack: (groaning) You’re gonna be like this the whole trip, ain’t you? (Rainbow zooms back into the basket.)

Rainbow: (nudging Applejack) You know it! (picking up the envelope she received in the opening) I mean, look at this letter. (Twilight floats it away.) They love me there!

(Another touch of magic extracts the letter and discards the envelope.)

Twilight: (reading) “Dear Rainbow Dash: Thank you for agreeing to be our guest at this year’s famous Hope Hollow Rainbow Festival. The many members of your fan club…”

(The recipient circles down to nudge Applejack and clear her throat, eliciting another fed-up groan.)

Twilight: “…are looking forward to your visit. You and your friends will be staying at our famous luxury Rainbow Resort and Spa, where your every whim will be catered to.” (Cut to Rarity.)

Rarity: Oh, I accept that challenge. I have so many whims.

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Oh, look! (She and Applejack are now skimming the letter as well.) There’s a famous butterfly garden too!

(Close-up of the page on the end of this; she points out attached photos of a single butterfly and a flock of them in flight.)

Twilight: Hmmm…you know, it’s strange that we never heard of this festival before, especially since everything in the town is so well-known. (Rainbow drops out of a hover for a closer look.)

Rainbow: (reading) “At this year’s Festival, you can eat treats at the traditional rainbow bakery booth, sing your favorite rainbow-themed songs at the karaoke competition…”

(Her perspective on the second half of this; Pinkie rises slowly into view, showing off a shiny-eyed ear-to-ear grin.)

Pinkie: Bakery and karaoke? It’s like they’ve seen into my soul! (She hops away; Applejack takes over.)

Applejack: (reading) “…and try our famous rainbow trout catch-and-release activity.” Huh. Now that sounds right up my river.

Pinkie: Plus, we get to watch the Mayor give Rainbow Dash an award! (She whips out her party cannon.) I call dibs on the cheering section!

(Squealing with glee, she fires off the artillery piece to fill the sky and the screen with confetti. It takes some seconds for the air to clear, during which time Rainbow lands in the basket next to Rarity.)

Rarity: (brushing herself off) An award for what, exactly?

Rainbow: (with an “I don’t know” grunt/shrug) Showing up? General coolness? (Chuckle.) All of the above? (Twilight has stowed the letter.)

Twilight: Well, we’re so glad you invited us along.

Pinkie: Yeah! It’s gonna be one long party! Which starts… (Pause.) …now!

(She blurs across to the other and gathers in Applejack and Fluttershy, and the other three join them.)

To the tune of “99 Bottles of Beer” (B major)

(All begin to sway in time.)

Pinkie:                A hundred bottles of pop on the wall, a hundred bottles of pop

(They float along, tracing the course of a river over a waterfall. The hour is now close to sunset.)

All six:                Take one down, pass it around, ninety-nine bottles of pop on the wall

                        Ninety-nine bottles of pop on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of pop

(Dissolve to Twilight reading and Applejack/Rarity napping, the unicorn using a sleep mask to shade her eyes. Pinkie hops around, energetic as ever despite the later nighttime hour.)

Pinkie:                 Two bottles of pop on the wall, two bottles of pop

(Twilight glowers at her; she wakes up a snoozing Fluttershy and Rainbow with her next line.)

                        Take it down, pass it around, one bottle of pop on the wall

(Zoom out quickly to a long shot of the balloon.)

Pinkie: And-a one more time! (Back to her.)

                        A hundred bottles of pop on the wall

(She trails off into mumbled gibberish as Rainbow claps a hoof to her mouth.)

Song ends

Pinkie: (innocently) Six times too many?

Rainbow: Ugh. Shouldn’t we be there by now? (Applejack is now awake and sitting on her haunches.)

Applejack: Huh. I thought so too. (standing, pointing) Maybe we shoulda turned left at that last cloud ’stead of right.

Fluttershy: Oh, it’s getting darker by the minute.

Rarity: (freaking out) I can’t see anything!

(She has neglected to remove her sleep mask, but an irked Applejack remedies that problem in short order.)

Rarity: Oh. (Pinkie pops up in the fore, irises/pupils greatly dilated.)

Pinkie: I spy with my little eye… (Blink; lean closer to camera.) …a rainbow!

(Cut to a hovering, sour-faced Rainbow.)

Rainbow: Great. We’re playing that game now?

Pinkie: (from o.s.) No! (Overhead shot of all six; she points off to one side.) I really do spy a rainbow!

(A longer shot proves her veracity, in the form of a vibrant spectrum that juts up from the cloud cover. Awed murmurs drift up from the six riders as the winds carry them toward it.)

Twilight: Wow! That’s the biggest rainbow I’ve ever seen!

Rarity: (panicked) And we’re headed right for it!

(They are now close enough to be able to see that it has a visible front-to-back thickness to it, as if crafted from wood or cardboard.)

Rainbow: Don’t worry, we’ll pass right through it. Rainbows aren’t solid.

(She immediately has to eat her words in the case of this particular specimen when the balloon thumps against it. Assorted cries of fear as it rocks creakily back and forth, the colors losing some of their brightness as if it were an electric sign being switched off.)

Applejack: Tell that to the rainbow!

Twilight: I don’t think that’s a rainbow! It’s a rainbow billboard!

(And its arcing shadow extends over them as it begins to topple.)

Fluttershy: Oh, no!

Twilight: Hang on, everypony!

(All but Applejack hunker down on the floor of the basket; there is a hit and the whine of escaping air, and the camera cuts to a fresh hole ripped in the canopy. Screams float up as the massive construct heels over, taking them with it. Pinkie blows furiously at the burner in an attempt to coax a bigger flame from it and increase the buoyancy; zoom out quickly to frame all six.)

Rarity: I DON’T THINK THAT’S WORKING!!

Applejack: WE’RE GONNA CRASH!!

(The screams resume as the camera zooms in quickly toward the mouth of the canopy, and the view fades quickly to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: snap to an extreme close-up of Twilight’s terror-constricted eye, seen from above. The balloon plunges away from the camera with the six screaming mares and toward the countryside thousands of feet below, followed by the broken-off arch of the rainbow billboard. Cut to them.)

Twilight: Rainbow Dash! Fluttershy! Let’s get everypony out!

(Applejack, Pinkie, and Rarity are quickly airlifted from the basket by Rainbow, Fluttershy, and Twilight respectively, the last two evacuees each adding a startled yelp in turn. The falling debris blacks out the camera for a split second, followed by a quick fade in and zoom out. As the winged mares strain every feather to keep their living cargo aloft, Twilight charges up her horn and teleports the entire group out of the sky. They materialize on/above one curve of a thoroughfare that runs more or less parallel to a river and is marked by a lamppost. A chorus of relieved sighs as the two earth ponies and the unicorn are set down—and then yells as all six dive for cover to avoid the graceless impact of their wrecked balloon. Dust boils up to fill the screen and clears to give a close-up of Twilight shielding a coughing Pinkie with her wings. Both glance toward the crash site, gasping softly, and the other four venture closer to the ruined craft, its canopy tangled in the trees; Rarity’s bag has survived intact.)

Applejack: Phew! Thanks, y’all. That basket coulda been us.

Fluttershy: Where are we?

(Slow pan across the site, framing the back of a sign in the foreground; Pinkie zips over to this.)

Pinkie: Uh-huh. (clearing some vines, reading) “Welcome to Hope Hollow.” (Cut to just behind her.) “Home of the famous…”

(Thick dust clouds swirl again as something large and heavy smashes down. These clear to show that the sign has been knocked flat by a piece of the billboard.)

Pinkie: “…Rainbow Festival.”

Rarity: We’ve arrived… (She spots one of her scarves hanging over a branch and levitates it into her now-open bag.) …and there’s nopony here to greet us?

Twilight: Good thing, too. The guest of honor and her friends just destroyed the town sign!

(Rainbow has settled into the drooping canopy as if it were a hammock.)

Fluttershy: Rainbow Dash, did your letter say where our hotel is?

Rainbow: Uh… (She nips it up, descends, and sets it on the turf to read.) “…the middle of town.”

(She, Applejack, and Rarity wind up at a loss for words.)

Twilight: Hmmm…doesn’t really help much when you don’t know where the middle is. Let’s start looking.

(A burst of horn-power drops her saddlebags in place, and she sets out with the others in tow, each carrying/floating her luggage. A long shot picks out the ground ends of the rainbow billboard, anchored to brick columns on either side of the road they are following. Beyond these, the path is blanketed by mist that makes everything beyond appear in foreboding shades of gray.)

(Dissolve to the crescent moon in the darkened night sky, seen above the level of the mist-shrouded treetops. The roofs of a couple of houses are in view, and a slow tilt down brings the path into frame, lined by more lampposts and dwellings. The sky has lost its deep night blue/purple hues and gone a deep, somber gray that is broken up only by a few scattered stars. Twilight and company continue their cautious perambulation for some moments before the camera cuts to a close-up of a cracked, boarded-up window on the upper story of a house. An awning-covered entrance is in no better shape, and a weathered wooden sign bearing a crude drawing of a cupcake creaks eerily on the chains anchoring it to its support rod. The whole area gives off an air of gray neglect and decrepitude—literally, as there is almost no other color on display, and those that are have gone faded and drab—and there are no immediate signs of life except for the mares. Close-up of Applejack.)

Applejack: Huh. Funny. You’d think a big luxury resort would be sorta, well…easier to spot. (Zoom out; Twilight walks by as Pinkie bounds along.)

Pinkie: Yeah!

(The group enters a barren town square with a non-operational fountain topped by a statue of two rearing mares, back to back.)

Pinkie: (climbing its statue) It seems like the whole town’s shut down.

Fluttershy: (flying up, pointing ahead) Oh, look! There’s somepony!

(Cut to a long shot of a house with a rainbow-topped thatched roof, backed by a tall circular structure. A figure can be seen stepping out onto the porch, above which the roof is contoured to accommodate a large, upside-down horseshoe topped by the sculpted figures of two rearing ponies.)

Twilight: Hmmm… (She flies toward the cottage.) Hello!

(A close-up establishes the figure as an earth pony mare, Petunia Petals. Varied grays makes up her entire figure—birdcatcher-spotted eyes, coat, thick curling corkscrews of her mane held back by a band and marked by a flower tucked above one ear, curly tail, shirt and short-sleeved jacket, cutie mark of two flowers. She turns from the double doors she has just locked with a soft, spooked gasp and speaks with a Minnesota accent.)

Petunia Petals: Oh!

Twilight: (touching down; the others move closer) Maybe you can help us. We’re here for the Rainbow Festival.

Petunia Petals: Oh! Uh, Rainbow Festival? (Rainbow flies to her, with no bag.)

Rainbow: Yeah. You know, the one where I’m the guest of honor?

(She laughs cockily while cutting a few loops and spins above the square, then comes in for a landing with the others.)

Rainbow: Yeah.

Petunia Petals: Oh, for cryin’ in the mud. What’s Sunny done now? (Applejack steps up.)

Applejack: Excuse me?

Petunia Petals: (smiling) I mean, um…you’d best talk to Mayor Skies about that. (Twilight joins them.)

Twilight: Great! And where would we find him?

Petunia Petals: City Hall. Uh, but it’s closed ’til tomorrow, dontcha know. Is there somethin’ I can help you with? (Rarity steps forward, having set her bag down.)

Rarity: Ah, yes, please. Uh, could you direct us to the Hope Hollow Luxury Resort?

(The query draws an airy giggle from the gray mare, but the uneasy silence that follows it catches her off guard.)

Petunia Petals: Oh! Uh, oh, you mean the hotel?

Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity: (nodding) Uh-huh! / Mmm-hmm!

Petunia Petals: (proudly) That’s easy. There’s only one in town.

Applejack: Could you, uh, give us directions?

Petunia Petals: No need. You’re there!

(A turn of the key, a push at the doors, and the dim gray interior stands exposed.)

Petunia Petals: I mean, here.

(The travelers begin to file in; cut to inside. Rainbow carries her bag and Rarity holds hers in a telekinetic grip again as they survey the space, which is set up as the lobby of a country inn—throw rugs on the floor, armchair and end table at one wall, front desk with a rack of brochures. Every square inch suffers from the same colorlessness as the streets of Hope Hollow. The overhead lights snap on.)

Petunia Petals: (crossing to them) Hotel Hope—also known as the town information center and library. My name’s Petunia Petals, by the way. Hello!

(A soft giggle escapes her lips before she whisks away to a pair of doors marked by a large painting of an open book. She has picked up a physical volume and donned a pair of eyeglasses.)

Petunia Petals: I’m the librarian here.

(The book is tossed away, exposing the ribbon tie she now wears in place of her shirt and jacket. Pan quickly to the front desk; she stands up behind it, having reverted to her clothing, ditched the specs, and put on a sun visor.)

Petunia Petals: And the information guide.

(A brochure is plucked from the rack and allowed to fall open under its own weight. Another pan shifts her to another length of the rack, where she rings a desk bell with visor gone.)

Petunia Petals: And the hotel manager, uh, historian, chef, portrait painter…

(“Historian”: put on glasses, lose the shirt/jacket, and hold up a bust of a mare’s head. “Chef”: ditch these items and don a white toque. “Portrait painter”: flip this away and grab a painter’s palette. Rainbow cuts off any further job descriptions by sidling up to the desk, no longer carrying her bag.)

Rainbow: Um…I-I’m Rainbow Dash, and this is…everypony.

(The other five offer an assortment of greetings, Rarity having put her luggage down; Petunia Petals stashes her art supplies and gets her clothes on.)

Petunia Petals: Well, hello, everypony! You just wait one hoof-shake and I’ll take you to the room.

Rarity: (taken aback) The room?

Petunia Petals: There’s only one. (hanging a key on a cord around her neck) Makes it easier to find.

(She giggles. Wipe to an overhead shot of her leading the uneasy road-trippers and their gear up a flight of stairs, Rarity floating her bag, then cut to a balcony that ends at a closed door. Petunia Petals stops at this.)

Petunia Petals: Here it is!

(Teeth grip the key by its head and slot it into the lock; a quick turn, and she lets it fall free.)

Petunia Petals: The royal suite!

(The door is pushed open; cut to just inside as she ushers them in, then zoom out quickly to the far side as they utter a popeyed gasp of revulsion as one. The large circular room would make a flophouse seem positively ritzy by comparison: ripped wallpaper, table set with a tattered cloth and dirty/damaged teapot and cups, rundown beds, cracked masonry and support beams, and so on. The camera cuts here and there to pick out abundant signs of disrepair, then to Rarity as she hitches in a shaky breath. She has put her bag down; the same will be true of the others when seen next.)

Rarity: (shuddering) How rustic and charming.

Petunia Petals: Isn’t it just?

Rainbow: I-I couldn’t help noticing…there are only three beds.

(One of which chooses this very moment to break in two across its width, the halves sagging to the floor.)

Rainbow: Okay, four.

Petunia Petals: Oh, there’s a pop-out too.

(She crosses to a particular stretch of wall, marked by the outline of a large rectangular panel whose bottom edge is flush with the floor, and bucks it with a hind leg.)

Petunia Petals: It can be a little tricky.

(Two more such kicks cause it to swing down to the floor in a cloud of dust, exposing a ratty mattress on the side now facing upward.)

Petunia Petals: There she is! Sleeps two. (crossing to door) You’ll be all fresh and ready to see the Mayor in the mornin’. (She lets herself out, then peeks back in.) Sleep tight.

(Off she goes again, pulling it shut—and a crown-decorated plate falls off it and shatters.)

Twilight: Did anypony notice anything strange about Petunia?

Rarity: (pacing) Other than that she just called this place “the royal suite”?

Applejack: Hard to tell in this light, but…she looked a little…gray, didn’t she?

Rarity: Probably from all the dust up here.

(She blows over the top of a nightstand, releasing a cloud of particulates that sends her into a coughing fit. However, it does not stop Pinkie from jumping up here with her bag.)

Pinkie: Aw, this room’s not so bad. (rummaging around) All it needs is… (pulling out/releasing balloons) …some balloons…

(She dives past the others to hang up strings of brightly colored pennants, nearly blowing their manes off their heads.)

Pinkie: …streamers… (singing a bit; more fishing in bag) …and…

(Her friends can only stare confusedly as she dangles upside down into view from the ceiling, holding a star-shaped piñata.)

Pinkie: …a piñata! Good thing I brought some.

(She hoists herself up and away, letting it hang from a string.)

Fluttershy: (glancing to one side) Uh? And look! (She flies up to a spider resting on its web in a crevice.) It comes with a cute little spider! (to it, gently) Hello, spider.

(The arachnid voices a tiny squeak, blinks its huge shiny eyes, and proceeds to rearrange the center of its web to form a heart-shaped aperture. She hums contentedly and nuzzles it, but Rainbow’s displeasure comes through in a loud groan.)

Rainbow: Sorry, everypony. I didn’t know what I was getting you into.

Twilight: (touching her shoulder; Fluttershy lands) Aww…the most important thing is, we’re all together.

Applejack: Yeah! (jumping onto the fold-out bed) As long as we have beds to sleep in, we’re set.

(The jolt triggers the mechanism to swing back up and hide the bed, pinning her between the mattress and the wall and knocking her hat off.)

Applejack: (muffled) Whoa! (Groan.)

(The five still free to move exchange puzzled/skeptical looks. Dissolve to the upper reaches of Hotel Hope; daytime sky can be seen through the trees, but the overall color scheme has not changed one bit in the full light—even the sky has lost its happy blue. Tilt down to ground level, where a couple of locals are getting an early start to the day. They too are mostly if not completely grayed out; the same will be true of all Hope Hollow residents until/unless otherwise noted. A shimmer of magic opens the front doors so Twilight and Rarity can step out, close-up of the violet mare, on the wrong end of a night sleeping rough.)

Twilight: Well… (yawning) …it wasn’t the worst night of sleep ever. (Pan to Rarity, sporting a rumpled mane/tail.)

Rarity: But definitely in the top three. (Flick the violet forelock into place.) Or would that be the bottom three?

(Exeunt the whole gang, drawing a wave of puzzled stares and murmurs from every resident they pass; Applejack has recovered and donned her hat. Twilight gets her brain all the way into drive.)

Fluttershy: Why is everypony looking at us?

Applejack: Maybe they recognize Rainbow Dash. (The blue pegasus flies up next to her.)

Rainbow: Or Princess Twilight—uh, but probably me.

Rarity: (thoughtfully, stopping) No…I think they’re staring because we’re the only part of this town that isn’t… (Blue eyes flick from side to side.) …gray.

Pinkie: What do you mean?

Rarity: Look around.

(Zoom out quickly to a long shot of them at the edge of the town square, proving her right from every conceivable angle.)

Rarity: All the colors here are gone! (Cut to Twilight.)

Twilight: That’s so strange. (Her perspective of the grayscale vicinity.) It’s just like I noticed about Petunia last night.

(The mare in question has shed her shirt/jacket and the hotel room key on its cord, tied kerchiefs around her mane and neck, and set up a stall to sell wilted flowers. A stallion runs a half-jaded eye over the wares.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Everything’s mostly gray.

Petunia Petals: (noticing, waving) Oh! Hello! (All but Applejack and Rainbow return the wave.)

Applejack: (to others) Except the stuff that’s…grayer. (Cut to Fluttershy/Rarity.)

Fluttershy: Oh, my. I knew something was different, but— (Rainbow shoulders up between them.)

Rainbow: This is so weird.

(Zoom out; a pegasus stallion walks slowly past the six, giving them a very hairy eyeball.)

Stallion 1: Huh?

Rarity: (to others) From the way they’re gawking at us, it appears they think we’re the odd ones.

Fluttershy: Maybe they don’t even notice. (hushed) It might be rude to mention it.

Twilight: I wonder what caused this.

Applejack: We can ask the Mayor.

Rainbow: (sourly, flying off; others follow) Yeah, if we ever find him.

(More murmurs in their wake. Dissolve to a stretch of a path leading to a smallish house; two pegasus foals fly out side by side from around the corner, furiously jostling each other as they hurtle along. One is Barley, a filly; the other is Pickle, a colt. Same light coat colors and unruly two-tone manes/tails, and the hue of his hooded sweatshirt and the edging/sleeves of her white T-shirt match. Barley has covered her mane with a knit cap that matches her shirt sleeves, and both have a sprinkling of birdcatcher spots—he on the bridge of his nose, she on her cheeks.)

Barley: Quit shoving!

Pickle: Shoving? These are pro-level moves I’m doing, sis.

(Deciding that she has had quite enough of his braggadocio, Barley zooms ahead; he voices an irritated noise and accelerates to catch up. Brother and sister come in for a pass through the town square, barely clearing the ground and bumping one another as the six mares take notice.)

Barley: Come on! Let go! (Both look ahead, eyes popping.)

Barley, Pickle: Huh?

(Eight short legs are thrust downward to grind against the dirt, bringing them to a stop with a few yards to spare. They gasp in undiluted awe at the sight of Rainbow hovering in a chance shaft of sunlight that throws her colors into vibrant relief against the drab surroundings. After a long, awkward beat of silence, Barley and Pickle backpedal away from the gathering and whip out of sight around the corner of a building. They peek out almost immediately, exchanging a burst of urgent whispers as Twilight and Rainbow observe, and duck away again. A mare’s voice snaps the pair out of their ponderings; on the start of the next line, pan away to frame a pair of older unicorns entering the square. The speaker is Mrs. Hoofintgon, or Mrs. H for short: meticulously coiffed mane piled high and secured with a band, jeweled pearl necklace, cutie mark of two square-cut gems in settings. She is accompanied by her husband, Mr. Hoofington, or Mr. H for short: faded short mane/tail, bushy eyebrows/mustache, liver spots on bridge of nose and under the outer corner of each eye, dress shirt with ascot and sweater vest, three locks of hair tied with bows for a mark. She speaks with a cultured, quasi-British accent, while his voice broadcasts a heavy “Long Island Lockjaw.”)

Mrs. H: Don’t pout, dear. It’ll wrinkle your withers.

Mr. H: I’m not pouting, sweetums, but I am hurt by your comment. I thought the pie I baked was quite tasty. (Mrs. H turns her head, showing a jeweled clip above one ear.)

Mrs. H: I didn’t say it wasn’t.

Mr. H: You didn’t say it was!

(He is so caught up in the disagreement that he fails to notice another elderly stallion directly in his path. This one is Moody Root: earth pony, short white mane covered by a flat cap, gray-streaked white tail, prominent eyebrows, a single tuft of beard, scarf, cutie mark of a beet. A collision with Mr. H prompts both unicorns to cry out in shock and instantly puts Moody in a very bad mood. He speaks with a Minnesota accent.)

Moody: (passing them) Watch where you’re goin’! You don’t own the sidewalk, you know!

Mr. H: (scoffing, to Mrs. H) Well, I never!

(She returns his scoff, but his eyes flick across the way as he makes a sound of surprise. Zoom out quickly to frame the six mares watching.)

Mr. H, Mrs. H: Oh!

(They hurry away, leaving the group to trade bemused mumbles. Wipe to a building elsewhere in Hope Hollow; a construction crane has been erected next to this one and is slowly hoisting up the group’s ruined balloon. Applejack is the first to get an eyeful.)

Applejack: Well, look at that. Somepony’s fixin’ up our balloon.

(The machine continues its labor as all hustle up for a better look. At its base, a pony has set up a workbench and donned a welding mask to do a few small repairs for another one who paces nervously. A close-up exposes enough details to confirm the welder as a mare, in overalls and a work shirt with rolled-up sleeves, with a short mane and a curly lock hanging down past each ear. Her customer is a unicorn stallion with curly white/gray mane/tail, birdcatcher spots under the outer corners of his eyes, and a smiling-sun cutie mark. This is Sunny Skies, the Mayor of Hope Hollow, who speaks with a Minnesota accent and a slightly flustered tone.)

Sunny Skies: Oh, goodness. This is unfortunate. Bad with a side of terribly awful! (pushing through the group; they react variously) Uh, uh, ’scuse me! Sorry, in a hurry.

(He sighs heavily, but stops and lets out a stunned breath before returning with a big smile and laugh.)

Sunny Skies: Well, stuff me in an olive and call me a pimento! (laughing, shaking Rainbow’s hoof vigorously) It’s the Rainbow Dash! You made it! (Release; peer closely at the blue face.) Uh, it is you, isn’t it?

Rainbow: (scoffing, but smiling) Pretty sure, yeah.

Sunny Skies: (laughing) Thank Celestia! I saw the balloon, thought the worst, and…well, you’re here. All of you. Heh. Welcome to the Hope Hollow Annual Rainbow Festival!

(He adds a giddy little hop on the end of this.)

Twilight: I’m Twilight Sparkle. And you must be…?

Sunny Skies: Sunny Skies, the Mayor of this lovely town, and pleased as a poplar tree to meetcha. (Cut to Fluttershy.)

Fluttershy: We’re very sorry about your rainbow billboard, Mr. Mayor. I-It was dark, and— (Back to him on the start of the next line.)

Sunny Skies: Oh, don’t give it a second thought. That old thing needed repair anyway. Haven’t used it since…uh… (smiling) …well, never mind. (crossing to workbench; all follow) Uh, a-a-anyway, once your balloon’s fixed up, Torque can take care of the billboard. (gesturing to welder) Everypony, meet Torque Wrench, our town handy-pony. She offered to repair your balloon for you.

(Torque Wrench flips up her mask to show an annoyed face and speaks in the same regional patois.)

Torque: He volunteered me. (Mask down; back to work.)

Sunny Skies: She’ll have it fixed in a jiffy. (Up.)

Torque: If by “jiffy,” you mean “this will take all day.” (Down.)

(He tosses her an uneasy glance, then slaps on a smile and turns back to the visitors.)

Sunny Skies: So, you got in last night. Heh. I wish I’d known. I would’ve been here to greetcha. Uh, where’d you all stay?

Rarity: (pointedly) At the “luxury” hotel.

Applejack: Petunia Petals let us in.

Sunny Skies: Ooh, well, of course she did. She’s somethin’, I’ll tell you what. I’d be lost without her.

(Eyes pop wide, cheeks tint in a darker gray blush, and he hastily catches himself.)

Sunny Skies: I mean, the-the-the town would be. (A moment’s bewilderment from Twilight before she speaks.)

Twilight: Mayor, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but…is there a reason your town is…faded?

Sunny Skies: Oh! Heh. You spotted that, did you? (pacing past the group) Well, it’s a…long story. Uh, uh, why don’t I show you the town highlights first?

(He goes on down the street, the mares voicing noncommittal grunts among themselves before following. Snap to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: snap to an extreme close-up of a patch of sluggishly bubbling mud. A bubble slowly grows and bursts in a spatter of murky droplets, after which the camera zooms out quickly on the start of the next line. The mud is contained in a small circular pool dug into the middle of one street, and a stone rainbow stands in the middle spurting more from its apex. Patches of moss cover the base. Sunny Skies points out the fixture for an unenthused audience of six.)

Sunny Skies: (scooping up a glob) Here’s our famous outdoor spa, with the all-natural mud bath. (Cut to Rarity stepping to the edge; he continues o.s.) Pretty, huh?

(The white unicorn bends closer to inspect the “spa” and is rewarded by a bubble popping to soil her face; she cries out in revulsion and stands up.)

Twilight: Maybe we could see some of the Rainbow Festival activities from the brochure.

Sunny Skies: Of course! (pointing to one side) The bakery booth is there…

(Twilight and Fluttershy train their eyes in that direction, but find only a stretch of park land bisected by a stone walking path.)

Fluttershy: Huh?

Twilight: Eh?

Sunny Skies: …or will be. We’re still settin’ up, but we got a lotta great things planned.

Fluttershy: (eagerly) And…the butterfly garden?

Sunny Skies: (pacing ahead) Oh, that’s right over here.

(Cut to a stand of bushes that have had drawings of butterflies tucked in among the leaves. All seven approach, the mares’ grunts indicating that they are having no luck in making sense of this display. Rarity has now scrubbed her face clean. In close-up, one sheet comes loose and flutters to the grass.)

Sunny Skies: (from o.s.) Oh! (He jumps to it.) Uh, let me fix that.

(It is picked up and stuck back onto the shrubbery.)

Fluttershy: So…none of the butterflies are actually…

Sunny Skies: Real? Oh, no. Uh, what with the flowers not havin’ color and all, the butterflies don’t really come around much anymore.

Applejack: I’m almost afraid to ask, but…the brochure mentioned fishin’? (Cut to Sunny Skies.)

Sunny Skies: Fishin’? Oh, not sure what you mean. (Zoom out on the next line; Twilight stands near him.)

Twilight: (quoting) “Our famous rainbow trout”?

Sunny Skies: (brightening, winking) Oh, yah, sure! Uh, well, uh, you don’t fish for ’em exactly, you just kinda, uh, uh, talk to ’em.

(During the previous, the camera cuts to a surprised/dismayed Applejack/Fluttershy/Pinkie, then back to him.)

Sunny Skies: (looking around himself) Uh, he’s right over, uh…

(Pan quickly to an inflatable wading pool set up nearby, a rubber duckie floating on its water. He moves toward this with a confused sigh.)

Sunny Skies: That’s funny, where’d our trout go?

(A young, quavery male voice cuts in, the camera panning quickly to frame the speaker on the next line—an earth pony stallion sitting on a log and waving. He is wearing a fabric fish costume that leaves only his legs and face exposed, and he speaks with a Minnesota accent. An open lunchbox rests on the grass.)

Trout: Oh, Mr. Mayor! Heh. Uh, just takin’ my lunch now, o-okay?

(He sucks noisily at a juice box as Sunny Skies offers a weak chuckle for the unimpressed Ponyville contingent.)

Pinkie: Um, so no big deal—well, actually, okay, yes, kind of a big deal. (eyes shining) But the brochure also mentioned the karaoke contest?

Sunny Skies: (gesturing to one side) Right here!

(Pan quickly in that direction to a dilapidated stage whose curtains and droopy tent roof have been heavily patched. One end of a hanging sign gives way, then the other, and the thing clatters to the ground.)

Sunny Skies: The trout doubles on harmonica.

(And that fellow proceeds to blow a few bars while trotting past the sorry display.)

Fluttershy: How…multi-talented of him. (Pinkie slides across to her, carrying a small music player.)

Pinkie: Good thing I bring my own karaoke party!

(She switches it on, generating a squeal of feedback, and lifts a microphone attached to it by a cord. A snatch of guitar pop-rock issues from the speaker.)

Pinkie: (singing off-key)         With me wherever I go, whoa, whoa, ow!

(Sunny Skies just stands there with a fixed smile as the device is shut off.)

Sunny Skies: Well, uh…that’s the big tour. (He makes to exit, humming to himself, but Twilight intercepts.)

Twilight: Mayor Skies… (Nervous chuckle from him.) …I don’t understand. (Cut to her.)Your Rainbow Festival isn’t quite as you described. (Rainbow pulls into a hover.)

Rainbow: And the resort hotel wasn’t what it was cracked up to be, either. (Zoom out on the following; all six fall in, Pinkie without her karaoke rig.)

Applejack: (dryly) ’Cept for all the cracks.

Rarity: None of these things are as pictured in your brochure.

Sunny Skies: Well…maybe I exaggerated a little, but…I-I’d intended on havin’ everythin’ ready! It’s just kinda hard gettin’ anypony excited about anythin’ in this town anymore! (Sigh.) I didn’t think you’d come if you knew the truth.

Twilight: The truth?

Sunny Skies: Oh…there is no Rainbow Festival!

(His admission is greeted by a six-way gasp and a slow, angry advance.)

Applejack: No Rainbow Festival?

Rainbow: No fan club?

Sunny Skies: Believe me, I didn’t mean to—

Rainbow: —bring us here for nothing?

Twilight: Think of all the papers I could be grading!

Sunny Skies: I-If you’d just let me—

Rarity: We should leave this very moment!

Applejack: Balloon’s not fixed yet.

Fluttershy: Maybe…we should let the Mayor explain?

Sunny Skies: (clearing throat) Uh, guess I should start at the beginnin’. A long time ago, when my Grandpa Skies was Mayor— (Cut to the mares; he continues o.s.) —Hope Hollow was different. (Back to him.) They used to call this town “The End of the Rainbow.”

(Punctuated by a foreleg sweeping out a long, graceful arc.)

Sunny Skies: ’Cause everythin’ you’d ever want, you could find right here.

Quiet, wistful piano melody, moderate 4 (C major)

(He takes a few steps toward the edge of the park; town and residents gain vibrant color in a wave radiating outward from the fountain and the ruined billboard knits itself back together. He is the only one unaffected as ponies talk at a house’s front gate and greet one another near a well.)

Sunny Skies:                Next-door neighbors chatting over white wood fences

                        Stopping on the street to say hello

(Two mares trot by in close-up; behind them, wipe to the town square fountain—fully operational and gushing for the enjoyment of those nearby. Bunches of multicolored balloons are tied to the tops of tent stalls. A filly flips a coin into the water and gets drenched by its splash, but shakes herself dry and smiles as her mother laughs.)

                        When friends did well, we sang their praises

(One mare brings a steaming bowl to another on a porch swing, who brightens out of her gloomy funk and eagerly slurps it down.)

                        Brought soup to comfort them when they felt low

                        That was our town at the end of the rainbow

Flute, light percussion, strings, acoustic guitar accents in

(Now Petunia Petals looks over a display of flowers as a fully colored duplicate of Sunny Skies watches from a distance behind her. The mare has a violet-tinged, bright pink coat, violet/purple mane/tail without the flower she wore in Act Two, and medium violet eyes; his coat is light blue, the mane/tail are white and pale blue, and the eyes are yellow-brown. She wears no accessories except for the band in her mane.)

Sunny Skies:                No pots of gold or buried treasure

(He fires up his horn to pluck a blossom and tuck it in behind her ear, getting a smile in return.)

                        Just everypony looking after each other

(A younger Moody—red coat, white/pale-brown mane/tail, brown eyes, yellow scarf, gray cap—plies a mouth-held wrench to tighten the wheel on a stallion’s cart so he can get on his way.)

                        The truest riches cannot be measured

(Mr. and Mrs. H, also relieved of some of their years, present a table of baked goods for a unicorn mare’s consideration. His eyebrows/mustache/mane/tail are blond, the coat is blue-violet, and the eyes are deep blue; pale pink shirt with darker sleeve cuffs and ascot; violet vest. Her coat is pale green, the mane a darker hue, and her eyes are a slightly lighter blue than his; the pearls at her throat are yellow. The mare levitates a cake off the table and departs as Mrs. H waves.)

                        It was a lesson that had kept us together

(Petunia Petals and Sunny Skies stroll the square, side by side, as one filly playfully chases another.)

                        In our town at the end of the rainbow

(The pair curve past the camera; behind them, wipe to him bringing up an item in his aura. Zoom in on this—a photo of an old, white-bearded, bushy-browed unicorn stallion in top hat, vest, and bow tie, standing behind a rainbow-marked lectern. This must surely be Grandpa Skies, an earlier Mayor, and the image comes to life as he throws a hoof-load of confetti; his mark is a sun emerging from clouds. His coat is a faded grayish-blue, his eyes bright red.)

Sunny Skies:                To honor our fine town, my Grandpa Skies decided

(Balloons drift up past the camera; behind these, wipe to a stallion shaping several of them into a dog and delighting a waiting mother and daughter.)

                        To throw a party each and every year

(The passage of a mare wipes the view to a batter-besmirched, toque-clad Mr. H standing proudly next to an immense three-dimensional spread of sweet bakery freshness. He is now closer to his present age, as seen by the lines and liver spots on his face. A stallion snaps his picture, from here, tilt up to the top of the piled-high stack, a pegasus swooping down to steal a bite.)

                        They planned for weeks, cooked for days, celebrated fifty ways

(A banner is stretched through the sky, and a stallion bucks a ball to hit a dunk tank target and drop the mare on the bench into the water.)

                        So everypony would gather here

(Cut to a close-up of the rainbow sign and zoom out to frame the reveler-filled square.)

                        In our town at the end of the rainbow

Percussion strengthens; piano/guitar out; intensity builds

(Grandpa unveils a flat, rounded device on his lectern, all clockwork and brass, and taps its central portion to raise a horizontal lens in a frame supported by thin rods. A shower of confetti marks the occasion.)

Sunny Skies:                Grandpa made a gizmo called the Rainbow Generator

(A beam of light pours up from the device and through the lens, refracting to generate a multi-hued aurora borealis.)

                        To paint the sky with lots of colors, shining bold and bright

(The radiance spills over the enthralled crowd.)

                        To remind us all, together we are greater

(Mrs. H and her now-clean husband trade smiles with Moody, and Grandpa holds up the Rainbow Generator, deactivated and with lens retracted.)

                        And darkness never wins against the coming of the light

(Zoom in slightly. The reflection of a similarly colored, younger stallion appears on the shiny brass surface, but wearing a thinner beard and mustache. The two are then seen facing each other on the platform as the camera zooms in slowly, Grandpa passing the Generator over to the younger—top hat, necktie, darker blue coat, brown eyes, cutie mark of a sun and one cloud. Their figures fade away and are replaced by those of the younger transferring the device to Sunny Skies, in top hat and bow tie; their coat colors are nearly identical. Another fade, and the current Mayor stands alone with it until Petunia Petals steps onto the platform to face him with a smile.)

Sunny Skies:                Grandpa passed it on to Dad, then it was my turn

                        To make the pretty rainbows in the sky

(His nerves falter for a moment, but he collects himself and taps the central lens to fire it up.)

                        It filled my heart with pride to see our whole town gathered gratefully

(Confetti rains down as the lights fill the sky.)

                        Where we were sure there would never be

Quiet, wistful strings and piano only

(Zoom out from the festivities and through the town square. The platform is set up in front of City Hall, which manages to tower over the surrounding architecture without seeming imposing.)

                        An end to the rainbow

Guitar accents in for two bars, then out for next verse (A minor)

(A few autumn leaves swirl past the camera, shifting the view to the ponies who had been talking at the gate in the first verse. They fade away and vine-covered lattices appear to block most of the house from view; next the filly who threw the coin in the fountain jumps down and walks off dejectedly, followed by her equally glum mother.)

Sunny Skies:                Then fences went up, we lost track of our neighbors

(The one who received the bowl of soup sits alone on her swing and cradles it, her spirits low.)

                        Each year passing, dimming spirits all around

(Cut to the town square and zoom out slowly as the partiers, booths, and attractions fade away in knots until the place is nearly barren.)

Flute/glockenspiel sneak in for next two lines only

                        The happy days came to an end, nopony had time to spend

(Sunny Skies regards the disappearance somberly from his lectern.)

                        Together in the town

Percussion/woodwinds in; intensity builds

(He levitates the Generator and starts away with it; pan quickly to an unassuming house, zooming in slowly, then cut to an extreme close-up of the device being worked on—wrench a nut, hammer in a nail, weld a seam.)

Sunny Skies:                I thought I knew exactly what the Festival needed

(The tinkerer proves to be the Mayor himself, finery traded for a welding mask as he labors away inside the house. He uncovers his face to check his work; cut to the platform as he floats the souped-up Generator onto the lectern, hat/tie in place again.)

                        A bigger, better rainbow would surely make them see it

(Puzzled glances run through the audience as he hits the switch; this time, sparks crackle from the chassis as it fires its energy skyward.)

                        But the extra magic was too much for the Rainbow Generator

(It fizzles out and begins to vibrate, shaking the platform and everything around it, as he recoils in fear.)

                        And I’m the one who brought the rainbow

A cappella

(A flare of white light from its innards fills the screen.)

                        To an end

Soft, melancholy piano/strings

(Fade in to the square and its occupants, now devoid of color. Sunny Skies has jumped down off the platform to get away from the remains of the still-sparking Generator, and the few ponies who have stuck around to watch its destruction gallop away at full speed. Zoom in slowly as the last vestiges of green fade from the grass.)

Slow loose 4 (C major)

Sunny Skies:                That’s how our town, our little pony town

                        That’s how our town saw the end of the rainbow

(He looks forlornly around himself and the view dissolves to the fountain, which stops running as the color retracts into it and disappears.)

Song ends

(Dissolve to Twilight and company, all visibly saddened by the tale and standing in front of City Hall. Complete silence reigns until Pinkie breaks into a full-throttle crying jag, gushers of tears pouring from both eyes.)

Pinkie: That is the saddest story song I’ve ever heard! (Sunny Skies has sat on his haunches, his back to them.)

Sunny Skies: I tried for a long time to get everypony interested in the Festival again— (standing, pacing in front of them) —to remember what it’s like to come together as a community and share the fun!

(He watches two ponies pass each other without so much as a hint of a glance.)

Sunny Skies: But nopony even bothered listenin’. That’s why I wrote to you, Rainbow Dash. (Cut to the speedster as her name is said; he continues o.s.) You were my last hope.

(All seven again.)

Sunny Skies: I figured if a pony of your stature came to town, it would get everypony excited about puttin’ on the Festival again. (smiling) I mean, “Rainbow”’s even part of your name.

Rainbow: Mmm—yeah, I can see that.

Twilight: Mr. Mayor, what kind of magic did you use on the Rainbow Generator?

Sunny Skies: Oh, I’m not sure. (pacing; she catches up) I didn’t know what I was dealin’ with. I only wanted to help—but instead I sucked all the color outta the town.

(Long overhead shot of a street littered with fragments from the billboard. He and the mares watch as Torque, no longer wearing her welding mask, hauls a cart loaded with other pieces.)

Sunny Skies: That billboard’s one of the only things that didn’t change. (Ground level.) To me, it’s a reminder of what we can be. Keeps the hope in Hope Hollow.

Twilight: Hmmm…if I could find out the type of magic you used, I might be able to reverse the spell.

Sunny Skies: (brightening) You mean…you’re gonna stay?

Twilight: (nodding) Uh-huh.

Other mares: (ditto) Mmm-hmm.

Applejack: Heh. Nothin’ we like better than a challenge, ’specially when it comes to helpin’ ponies.

Sunny Skies: (jumping in place) You don’t know how clam-happy this all makes me! Thank you kindly. (Rainbow rises to a hover.)

Twilight: We’ll do whatever we can to bring back your Rainbow Festival.

Sunny Skies: I won’t fib to you. It won’t be easy.

(All follow his glance across the square and take in the apathetic ponies working through their respective daily grinds.)

Sunny Skies: It’s gotten so nopony even talks to each other anymore!

(A pegasus mare has come in for a landing. Long, wild, pale two-tone mane topped by a loaded pincushion on a clip; single-color gray tail tied back; fuzzy vest with belt, jointed prosthesis in place of the left hind leg from the hock down. This is Kerfuffle, whose movements show off a cutie mark of yarn balls stuck through with knitting needles.)

Twilight: Mmm—it might be tough, but… (circling to stand with her non-flying friends) …we have a little experience bringing ponies together.

(Rainbow drops in to land among them, adding her confident smile to theirs, and Pinkie is at Sunny Skies’s side in a jiffy and rising to her hind legs.)

Pinkie: Yaaaay! This is exactly like planning a party… (She whisks away to the dry fountain.) …only bigger… (throwing confetti) …’cause it’s a festival!

(Just as quickly as she left, she giggle-hops her way back past the others and circles to face Sunny Skies again.)

Pinkie: (giving him a cupcake) Which means more cupcakes! Woo-hoo! (She looks past his shoulder and is instantly enthralled.) Ooh!

(Cut to her perspective of the buildings farther down the street and zoom in quickly to a close-up of the cupcake sign that the group passed on their Act Two journey into Hope Hollow. The camera returns to her and Sunny Skies after a moment; he lowers the dessert and she lets off a shout of gleeful triumph.)

Pinkie: I’ve got a date with a bakery booth! (Wink.) Ha-ha!

(She peels out, laughing; he regards the cupcake again, baffled, and sets it down.)

Fluttershy: Um, I’d better go with her. (She lifts off.)

Rarity: Hmmm…an overall stylistic look to unify the sentiment of the celebration. That’s what this festival needs.

Sunny Skies: You mean like a rainbow?

Rarity: Yes, darling, yes, yes, but more complex. More thematic. Something like… (Glance away across the street.) …ooh!

(She has spotted Kerfuffle setting up wheeled racks of garments outside a shop; zoom in quickly on the pegasus. This camera angle picks out a tie that loosely holds back part of her mane, not seen during her landing in the square.)

Rarity: (now o.s.) Something like that! (Kerfuffle makes a few small adjustments to one piece; Rarity trots off toward her.) Formidable.

(Spoken in French, this translates as “wonderful.”)

Twilight: (crossing to Sunny Skies) The biggest challenge is getting your town interested in a Rainbow Festival when everything’s so…gray. I think if we can bring the color back, it’ll solve everything.

Sunny Skies: Yah, I’m with you there, but—

Twilight: Rainbow Dash, I need your help. (She takes off, straight up.)

Rainbow: Mr. Mayor, seriously—is there a fan club?

Sunny Skies: Oh, you betcha! They’re around… (looking here and there) …somewhere.

(The ace flyer lets off a frustrated groan and lifts off, leaving Applejack alone with the stallion.)

Applejack: Any tools I can borrow, Your Honor? I’m gonna spruce up that billboard to let everypony know this here Rainbow Festival’s back in business.

Sunny Skies: (laughing) Oh, that’s music to my ears. (addressing himself across square) Torque Wrench?

(Zoom out a few yards to put the mare in the foreground, a bandana rolled and tied through her mane to keep it out of her eyes.)

Sunny Skies: Let’s get our guest tooled up, what do you say? She’s gonna put our rainbow back up.

(A close-up of Torque picks out the wrench head on a haunch pocket of her overalls. She is no longer hitched to her cart of billboard scraps.)

Torque: (sourly) Oh, yippee.

(A chunk of board is picked up in teeth and hauled away as Petunia Petals does a bit of sweeping, having traded shirt/jacket/mane band for kerchiefs tied at forehead/neck and removed the flower from her mane. She stops and offers a giggly wave to Applejack and Sunny Skies, bringing a darker gray blush to the Mayor’s face.)

Sunny Skies: Oh…uh…if you don’t mind, I, uh…I have a speech to work on. (exiting square) See you ’round!

Applejack: Hmmm…

(She too clears the area. Snap to black.)

Act Four

(Opening shot: snap to a long overhead shot of the square and its few listless occupants, zooming out slowly to frame Twilight and Rainbow watching from a ridge well outside the town proper. The grass under their haunches is a lively green—no colors lost here.)

Rainbow: So, what’s your plan?

Twilight: If magic caused this, maybe magic can solve it.

(A few determined flaps carry her up to a hover, from which she gathers power into her horn and lets it go in a long, supercharged pulse. It spreads into a shimmering dome that encompasses the entirety of Hope Hollow and a fair bit of the surrounding countryside for a long second. Once it subsides, though, the place is just as dull and gray as it was when she and her friends first showed up. She drops back to the ridge with a deflated little sigh; Rainbow is now up to all fours.)

Twilight: Oh, I was afraid of that. I’ve never seen any magic like this before.

Rainbow: Heh. Let me try. I mean, “Rainbow”’s part of my name, right?

(She backs up a few paces to get a galloping start and goes airborne, very nearly blowing the winged unicorn’s mane/tail into a knot in the bargain. Up and up she goes, a white aura glowing around her outstretched forelegs and growing into a curved wave front as she reaches the apex of her flight. Next she throws herself into a barely controlled high-speed dive, arcs low over the town, and ascends with one final kick of acceleration that sets off a Sonic Rainboom. The brilliant colors wash down over the area in a hemispherical sheet left behind by the shock wave; in the square, a mare sees the light show in the reflection of the fountain’s water.)

Mare 1: Ooh! (Mumble to herself as she looks to the sky.)

Stallion 2: Huh?

(The wave fades away without any discernible effect, sinking the moods of a few other onlookers, and one sighs as he plods back to the monotony. Rainbow swoops back to the ridge, runs a dejected eye over her lack of results, and lands facing Twilight with a disgusted grunt.)

Rainbow: Yeah, that’s all I got.

Twilight: (sighing) Thanks for trying. I guess I need to do more research.

(She is interrupted by the sound of something flying in fast—or two somethings in this case, as the camera zooms out to frame Barley and Pickle having a go at some more stunts. Bad maneuvers leave them banging into one another and quickly losing any semblance of control.)

Barley: LOOK OUUUUUT!! (Pickle pulls away.)

Pickle: No, you look out!

(A flank-to-flank collision sends both foals into a screaming, flailing plunge. Twilight gasps in fright, Rainbow cringes at the thought of how many weeks this might lay them up in a hospital, and gravity brings them straight down toward an old windmill standing by a path that leads up a mountain slope. Pickle pulls sharply up into a dead-stop hover just inches above the grass, but Barley’s weight drives him flat into it. Her cap, torn from her head by the rushing air, plops down to cover his; he manages a pained groan as Rainbow touches down nearby.)

Rainbow: (stammering) Are you okay?

(Both get upright with awed gasps. There follows a long, uneasy pause, which lasts until Barley snatches her cap and puts it back on.)

Barley: (to Pickle, accusingly) Why did you zig in front of me like that? (They butt heads.)

Pickle:  I didn’t zig, you zigged! I zagged!

Barley: That’s no excuse for—

Rainbow: (pushing them apart) Guys, guys! Hold on! It was just an accident.

Pickle: (chagrined, pawing at ground) An accident that happened in front of you.

Barley: Ugh. I’m so embarrassed. All of our lives we’ve been wanting to meet you, and—

Rainbow: Wait. So…you’re the fan club? (All four young eyes pop.)

Barley: You’ve heard of us?

(She and Pickle lift off into a hover just ahead of the blue mare, now in much better cheer.)

Pickle: Barley’s the president.

Barley: Pickle’s the assistant president.

Rainbow: Well, what do you know? The Mayor was telling the truth about something.

Barley: Anyway, you’re my brother’s favorite Wonderbolt.

Pickle: And my sister’s favorite Wonderbolt, too! (They gain a bit of altitude.)

Barley: He knows all your best moves.

Pickle: So does she!

Barley: We practice all of ’em, every day!

(They try to curve past one another at close range, but end up with their tails entangled and have to spend a second pulling free. Moods sink in time with the small bodies.)

Pickle: But…we really can’t do them. (Barley directs an annoyed nudge into his ribs.) Well, it’s true!

Barley: (hushed) Go ahead. Ask her.

Pickle: (ditto) No, you ask her!

Barley: No, you ask her! (They butt heads.)

Pickle: No, you!

Barley: No, you do it!

Pickle: No, you do it! (Barley growls through her teeth; then they pull away.)

Rainbow: (impatiently) Somepony ask me!

(Long pause, after which the siblings return to their normal speaking volume.)

Barley: (pawing nervously at ground) Do you think…maybe…you could give us a lesson? Just a tiny one? Show us some of your moves?

(Rainbow finds herself on the receiving end of two hopeful, shiny-eyed smiles.)

Rainbow: Heh. Well…you promise to listen? And work hard? And practice?

(They look to each other, gasping in surprise and delight, and pop up to a hover. The next two lines overlap.)

Barley: Yes! Absolutely practice!

Pickle: Yes! Yes!

Rainbow: (chuckling) Tell you what. If I like what I see, the three of us will put on a show at the Rainbow Festival.

(Cut to the pair on the end of this; they draw a stereo mind-blown gasp and drop smiling back to the earth, keeping their voices down for the next two lines.)

Barley: (to Pickle) There’s still a Rainbow Festival?

Pickle: And we’re gonna perform at it? (Rainbow lands facing them.)

Rainbow: I think the whole town should know there’s a couple of future Wonderbolts living here.

(She gently pokes each nose with a hoof as she says this, prompting awestruck little gasps.)

Rainbow: Come on! We got work to do! (She flashes into the sky and away.)

Barley: (to Pickle, hovering excitedly) Did you hear that?!

Pickle: (ditto) She called us future Wonderbolts!

(A few confident strides, and the youngsters are up flying one tight loop around the windmill that sets it spinning. As they zoom away, one tattered vane sparkles with energy and turns a deep blue, working from the axle to the outermost edge. A rabbit smiles at the color change as the mill decelerates to a stop.)

(Dissolve to an extreme close-up of one chunk of the rainbow billboard and zoom out to show Applejack propping it against a stack of boards. She has procured a toolbox from Torque, who stands a bit farther back and is inspecting a bundle of other pieces.)

Applejack: I think some of this can be saved, but we’ll need some fresh lumber. Uh, Torque? The Mayor said maybe you could lend a hoof?

Torque: (grumbling) Him and his crazy schemes. What’s your business in this, anyhoo? Hmmm?

Applejack: Well, for one thing, we’re helpin’ the Mayor. And for another, Granny Smith always says, “You break somethin’, you fix it.” (Torque digs through her pile.) And any job you do, you should be proud of.

Torque: (chuckling, turning to her) Proud of bein’ a repair pony?

Applejack: Well, absolutely. It’s a pretty rare talent to have. Nice work on that balloon basket, by the way.

(Both step toward Torque’s workshop, in which this item sits—disconnected from the canopy and in good-as-new condition. Cut to a close-up of it and pan to the two mares in the doorway.)

Applejack: Reweavin’ all that straw is no joke. (Close-up of them.)

Torque: Oh, heh…yah, well…thanks for, well…noticin’.

(The farmer leaves the shop, the camera zooming in slowly as the fix-it expert mulls over this exchange. Finally she comes around to a smile and gallops over to where Applejack is piecing together two billboard segments. Both come up with hammers in mouths and begin pounding at the seam to secure it, neither paying any mind a bundle of boards lying in the road. A twinkle of light surges from one end to the other, changing the lifeless gray to a warm, woody brown.)

(Dissolve to a long shot of the shop that Rarity saw Kerfuffle visiting in Act Three. The fashionista approaches the batwing doors of its entrance, humming placidly to herself, but stops short after passing the front window.)

Rarity: Hmmm?

(She darts back for a closer look; cut to just inside the panes, framing her on the opposite side in close-up.)

Rarity: (slightly muffled by glass) That’s one of my designs!

(Zoom out. Facing her is a pony-shaped mannequin outfitted in an opulent gown and matching sun hat. Outside again; she heads in with new resolve. Inside, her reflection appears in a full-length mirror propped against one wall as a hunched-down Kerfuffle brings up a box and sets it on a sales counter.)

Rarity: Hello?

(The pegasus straightens up from her rummaging and pulls in a lung-inflating gasp upon realizing just who has come to pay a visit. A Minnesota accent and a cracking, scatterbrained tone color her voice as she breaks into a broad smile.)

Kerfuffle: Whoa, no way! Stack my pancakes! Are you really the Rarity?

Rarity: Uh, it’s just Rarity. Uh, and I-I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve got—

(Kerfuffle has flown all the way to the entrance and is enthusiastically shaking hooves with her before she can get another word out.)

Kerfuffle: (gasping) I love you! I love you so much! Your work, I mean, your designs, your taste, your eye for beauty…

Rarity: Well, thank you.

Kerfuffle: (showing a star-patterned garment) They’re the perfect canvas for me to fancy up!

Rarity: (pacing) Yes, about that, the-the hat, the-the bow, uh, the scarf, the— (Kerfuffle lands facing her.)

Kerfuffle: Do you like ’em?

Rarity: Very charming.

Kerfuffle: (gasping) Thank you! Those are Kerfuffle originals. I’m Kerfuffle. Spelled like it sounds, with a double “ffff” for the “fuff.” (Deep breath.) I should really stop talking now.

(Rarity is trying on a pair of sunglasses.)

Rarity: I do hope you don’t mind my asking— (Remove/set them down.) —but with all this talent, why don’t you simply display your own work instead of adding to others’?

(The proprietor turns this over for a long beat, then breaks into a hearty guffaw. Receiving none in response, she flies over to Rarity, who has shifted to a different section.)

Kerfuffle: (uneasily) Oh. Oh, no. (Land.) I-I-I couldn’t. It’s…not good enough by itself.

Rarity: Hmph! Au contraire. (She floats a shawl off the nearest counter.) Take this shawl. (Wrap it around her shoulders.) Hoof-dyed, nicely woven, a piece of art by itself. Imagine if you could work in color.

Kerfuffle: (smiling) Oh, I do imagine. I mean, that’s how I design things. (pacing) I feel in my heart what the colors are.

(She crosses to another counter, where a folded textile rests, and Rarity moves for a better look.)

Kerfuffle: Uh, like this scarf. (reeling it out) This stripe is red, then orange, yellow…

Rarity: Like a rainbow. How would you like to work with me as the official assistant designer of the Rainbow Festival?

Kerfuffle: (gasping, eyes widening) Really? Work with you? (beaming) I can’t believe it!

(She flies to an open patch of floor and jitters in place, squealing and giggling, only to cut herself off with a slightly skeptical look toward Rarity.)

Kerfuffle: Wait. There’s still a Rainbow Festival?

Rarity: (circling to her) Darling, if we have anything to do with it, not only will there be a Festival, it will be the most stylish anypony in this town has ever seen! (Kerfuffle lifts into a hover on the end of this, then lands.) Now let’s get started!

(Both designers trot purposefully away and so miss a twinkling color change that plays across a beret resting on a mannequin’s head to turn it a bright magenta. From here, dissolve to a long shot of the exterior of Hotel Hope as Twilight lands and approaches the open front doors. Inside the lobby, she steps cautiously across to the closed library entrance first shown off by Petunia Petals in Act Two. Energy begins to shine from her horn and gather in the seam where the two portals meet; cut to within the library as these swing open to admit her and zoom out slowly. Filled bookshelves stand nearly three times her height in a room of not inconsiderable size, and a conveniently placed study table is loaded down with yet more reading material.)

Twilight: (softly, awed) Woooooow…

(The doors close, and the camera shifts to her perspective of the opposite end of the room and tilts up slowly. Here, a small balcony equipped with still more shelves can be reached by a mildly rundown staircase. Back to her, the camera aimed out over the tops of the literature offerings on one shelf; she gasps in unmitigated delight.)

Petunia Petals: (from o.s.) You like it?

(Ground level; wearing the glasses and ribbon tie she showed off when introducing herself as the town librarian, she is perched on a rolling ladder to get at the higher-altitude shelves. She has added the flower back to the band in her mane.)

Twilight: I love it! I just never thought—

Petunia Petals: —that a teeny town like Hope Hollow would have a library this grand? We may be small, but we’re well-read. (She slides down to the floor.) I make sure of it.

Twilight: Mayor Sunny was right! You are something!

Petunia Petals: (blushing) Did he really say that? (Giggle.) Oh, that silly unicorn. (eagerly) Did he say anything else? (catching herself) I mean, uh, anyhoo, what can I do you for?

Twilight: I don’t suppose you have a Magic section?

(The gray mare laughs and aims a hoof toward the far wall; pan quickly to three stretches of shelves in turn.)

Petunia Petals: (from o.s.) Arcane, Elemental, or Theory Of.

(Cut back to the research-minded Princess, who smiles broadly as a happy little moan issues from her throat, and snap to black.)

Act Five

(Opening shot: snap to a long overhead shot of Fluttershy and Pinkie crossing the town square.)

Pinkie: Let’s see. (Head-on close-up.) If fifty cupcakes makes a party, that means for the Festival we need… (under her breath) …divide by two, carry the one…

Fluttershy: More? (Pinkie zips in close.)

Pinkie: Super-more!

(They have stopped at the building with the old cupcake sign that she spotted in Act Three—the town bakery.)

Pinkie: We’re gonna need some baking help! (Both of its support chains snap, one by one.) Huh?

(Accompanied by a soft gasp from Fluttershy, and followed by the wooden placard snapping in half when it hits the ground. Cut to just inside the darkened shop, the camera aimed out through the doors’ grimy glass panels to frame the pair. Fluttershy and Pinkie each rub a small round patch clean, side by side, and gaze across the long-disused shop floor.)

Fluttershy: (muffled by glass) It looks like it’s closed.

(Both turn away, Pinkie clearing off a curving swath so that the three clean bits form a sad face; cut to them outside.)

Pinkie: Aw, that’s so sad!

Mr. H: (from o.s., distant) —that we could only use the ones from our yard, lovey.

(On the end of this, the camera cuts to him and his wife crossing the square and his speaking volume returns to normal. He is levitating a pie.)

Mrs. H: (wearily) Oh, darling, stop it. (Pinkie zips over and falls in with them.)

Pinkie: Excuse me! I see you’re taking your pie for a walk, and I was wondering— (All stop.)

Mrs. H: We’re not interested. Ugh! It’s getting so a pony can’t even walk down the street without being terrorized.

Pinkie: (laughing) That’s not “terrorized.” This…

(Zoom in quickly to a close-up as she lets one eye bug out and go bloodshot, tongue lolling from her mouth to voice a goofy, drooling screech. Husband and wife cry out and flinch at the display, which ends as quickly as it began.)

Pinkie: …is “terrorized.”

(The snooty unicorns find their intended exit cut off by a hopping Pinkie and a stationary Fluttershy.)

Pinkie: So, how would you like to be a part of the official baking team of the Rainbow Festival?

Mrs. H: (puzzled) There’s still a Rainbow Festival?

Pinkie: Uh-huh! (She pops in/out from all angles around them and delivers a hug as she continues.) We’ll have a booth with cupcakes and pastries and fun.

(A quick step/twirl carries her away from them with the pie.)

Pinkie: We’re gonna start with this pie! Let the taste test begin!

(She chomps down a huge bite and almost immediately finds herself struggling not to spit it all over the place. There follows a quick string of gagging and retching noises, then a mad scrape at the tongue to remove the offending particles. The remainder of the dessert ends up sitting on the ground.)

Pinkie: What kind of pie did you say this was supposed to be? (Confused glance between the unicorns.)

Mr. H: (floating it back to himself) Apricot.

Pinkie: Are you sure? It’s kinda…crunchy.

Fluttershy: Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Mrs. H: (affronted) Well, the apricots are from our very own tree!

Mr. H: In our very own yard!

Mrs. H: Behind our very own house! (Long overhead shot of the four.)

Pinkie: Yeah. Maybe we should get a look at this tree.

(They set off. Dissolve to a close-up of Barley and Pickle limbering up on a stretch of grassland; Rainbow strolls up as the camera zooms out.)

Rainbow: All right, rookies. Show me what you got!

Barley: (gasping/smiling, to Pickle) She sounds just like we always imagined she’d sound!

Pickle: (nudging her) Only twenty percent cooler! (Neither one moves.)

Rainbow: Well? Aren’t you gonna fly or something?

Pickle: (saluting) Yes, sir! I mean, ma’am!

(Both siblings blush and offer sheepish little laughs, then lift off. Swinging back and forth past each other at first, they settle into close parallel flight paths.)

Barley: Okay…break!

(They swing apart, each doing a backwards loop and three-quarters that sends them wobbling and veering toward each other. Yells from both young voices ring through the sky as they slam together, back to back, and drop like an eight-legged brick. Barley’s cap has barely had time to come loose from her head before Rainbow takes to the air and bites down on the hood of Pickle’s sweatshirt. He is dragged away, taking Barley along as the two have locked their limbs together out of sheer terror, and they are set gently down on the grass. The cap takes a few extra seconds to make its way down, and Rainbow snaps it up in her mouth and waits as the foals roll glumly onto their backs. A toss of the stripe-maned head, and she is wearing it.)

Rainbow: Fancy flying is something you have to work up to. Even I didn’t become Rainbow Dash in one day. (Barley stands up.)

Barley: Two days?

(Rainbow plops the cap back on her head and goes into a hover as Pickle gets to his hooves.)

Rainbow: Everypony’s gotta learn the basics before they can show off.

(She proceeds to do a little showing off with a few tight turns and a corkscrew.)

Barley, Pickle: (softly) Whoa…

(The daredevil flips out of cruising on her back and descends to make a perfect four-point landing, friction between dirt and hooves bringing her gently to a halt. Barley and Pickle fly over to her, their enthusiasm rekindled.)

Rainbow: You’ll get there. But first, let’s start with a single flip.

(A pair of excited gasps marks her return to the air, and they send themselves into a steadier arc that barely clears the grass—a patch of which twinkles its way back to lush greenness in their wake. Cut to a long overhead shot of Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Mr./Mrs. H traversing a stone-lined path that runs across an expansive lawn behind a house of some size. The tract is enclosed by hedges on one side and a fence on the other, and is broken up by the occasional small chicken coop and scrawny fruit tree, while the trees in the yard on the other side of the fence—which shows damage or collapse in a couple of spots—positively dwarf it for height and health. Zoom in slowly and cut to ground level; they are no longer carrying the pie that nearly sent Pinkie’s digestive system into reverse gear.)

Fluttershy: (to Mr. H) If you don’t mind my asking, you don’t sound like the other ponies here in town.

Mr. H: Oh, we weren’t born here. We’re originally from Manehattan.

Mrs. H: But it was so big. All those ponies crammed together, never talking to each other.

(Back to Fluttershy on the end of this, reacting with mild surprise at the mare’s grunt of muted disgust.)

Mr. H: We heard Hope Hollow was just the opposite, so we moved here. (All stop.)

Mrs. H: And it was wonderful… (stammering a bit) …for a while.

Fluttershy: What happened?

Mrs. H: Oh, things changed. (trotting o.s.) Ah! Here!

(She moves to a scraggly tree, barely more than a sapling, and is followed by Pinkie and Mr. H.)

Mrs. H: This is the tree.

Mr. H: This is where the apricots in my pie came from. (One detaches itself and bounces to Pinkie. Long pause.)

Pinkie: Well, I’m no expert, but…

(Pulling out a magnifying glass, she hunches down to examine the fruit in minute detail.)

Pinkie: …I don’t think these are very ripe.

(She stands and lowers the glass.)

Pinkie: (loud whisper) Apricots are supposed to be orange!

Mr. H: Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? With hardly any colors in this town— (Cut to Fluttershy, over by the fence; he continues o.s.) —one apricot looks like another.

Fluttershy: (pointing toward a tree in the next yard) What about that tree? Its apricots are big and juicy. (Overhead shot.)

Mr. H: Oh. We can’t use the apricots from that tree.

Pinkie: (crossing to it) Sure you can! (Ground level; she makes to pick one.) All you gotta do is—

(She is brought up short by an eye glaring through a knothole in the fence gates and the voice of its owner.)

Moody: (muffled, through fence, banging on it) Hey! (Pinkie jumps back with a yelp.) Stay away from my tree!

Fluttershy: Wh-What was that?

Mr. H: Just old Moody Root.

Mrs. H: He’s made it quite clear he won’t share his apricots. He hasn’t even said hello in ages.

Fluttershy: Have you tried saying hello to him?

Mr. H: What? (Uncertain looks between him and his wife.) Well, no, but…

Fluttershy: (voice raised, peeking through knothole) Mr. Moody Root? Are you there? (Back off.)

Moody: (muffled, through fence) Who wants to know?

(Yellow wings carry the gentle pegasus up high enough to let her look him straight on.)

Fluttershy: I’m Fluttershy. Your apricot tree is beautiful! So healthy. You must take very good care of it.

Moody: (smiling) Well, I try to. Uh, plant food, a good waterin’ now and then. Keeps my apricots happy.

Fluttershy: I bet that’s why you have so many of them. You must always be busy making things—jam, cobbler, pie…

Moody: Nope, I just eat ’em. (stroking chin) Although…pie does sound pretty good.

Mrs. H: (to Mr. H) What in Equestria is she doing?

Mr. H: I haven’t the foggiest, dear. (Pinkie slides over to them.)

Pinkie: (foreleg around his shoulders) Doing what she does best.

Fluttershy: (to Moody) Your neighbors were just about to bake some pies. You know them, right? (She lands and gestures to the fence.) Mr. and Mrs. Hoofington, Mr. Moody Root.

(The cultivating codger hoists himself up to look over the fence at his well-to-do neighbors.)

Moody: (hesitantly) Um… (Clear throat.) …h-hello. Uh… (Next two lines overlap, matching his tone.)

Moody: Yes…hello.

Mrs. H: Hello, Mr. Root. (Moody clears his throat again.)

Fluttershy: But they’re a little short on apricots.

Pinkie: (slyly, sidling up to Mr. H) If only there were some apricots we could use…

(She cues him with a nudge and clears her throat, but gets only silence for a couple of seconds. A second, much louder throat-clearing jolts Mrs. H into catching on.)

Mrs. H: Oh, yes, of course! We’d be happy to bake you a pie.

Mr. H: Two or…three pies, even.

Moody: So you mean if I give you my apricots…

Pinkie: (gasping sharply) What a great idea!

Fluttershy: Then everypony can share! What do you think, Mr. Moody Root?  (He sinks from sight.)

Mrs. H: (scoffing) Oh, well.

Fluttershy: Wait for it…

(Cut to a slow zoom in on the fence gates, which remain closed for a long, ominous few seconds until one of them creaks open so a smiling Moody can put his head out.)

Moody: Got a ladder? (crossing the boundary) We can just pick ’em from your side of the fence!

Mr. H: (stammering) Um, yes, of course! This way!

(All five start for the house, not seeing an apricot in the uppermost boughs of the mighty tree glimmer with power and turn a shade of orange that speaks eloquently to its ripeness. Dissolve to a long shot of Hotel Hope, zooming in slowly, then cut to the upper reaches of the library. Twilight’s magic removes one book from the shelves and navigates it down to the study table that she is assiduously putting through its paces. The cover opens on the way to her.)

Twilight: (flipping pages) Prism curse…an erasure spell…none of these are big enough to make a whole town lose its color on their own! (A frustrated groan, followed by the start of a new idea.) Unless…

Voice of Sunny Skies: (muffled) Oh, for the love of cheddar!

(The researcher gasps softly and flies toward the source, a gap under the balcony formed by one set of bookshelves that has swung partway open like a door. A sliver of the room beyond is visible through this, and she lands to peer in cautiously.)

Sunny Skies: (from inside, to himself) And…yes, I think this works, just…

(His words come through more clearly on the end of this when the camera cuts to just within the aperture and then to the upper portion of this area. It is a single long room whose side walls slope gradually toward one another above a vertical base. The resulting triangular portion of the end wall is taken up by a single huge stained-glass window, depicting two smiling mares under a sky filled with clouds, sparkles, and a giant gem and rainbow. The walls are lined with loaded shelves and display cases, strings of pennants, and framed paintings/photos, a few of which display vestiges of color. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling. Tilt down slowly to frame Sunny Skies pacing the floor, using magic to hold a quill/scroll and scribble notes, and mumbling almost inaudibly to himself. Twilight waits a few seconds before entering.)

Twilight: Mayor Skies! (Startled, he drops the items.)

Sunny Skies: Oh!

Twilight: What is all this?

Sunny Skies: Princess Twilight! Welcome to our town’s Rainbow Room. (Cut here and there among the mementos on the shelves; he continues o.s.) Anything you want to know about each year’s Festival from the very beginnin’.

(Cut to a picture of Grandpa, not wearing his official regalia, and his young son—the colt who will later become Sunny Skies’s father. Twilight flies up to this, astounded by its bright hues.)

Twilight: The pictures! They’re in color!

Sunny Skies: (sadly) Sure are. (Sigh; she descends as he paces.) Those are from happier times—

(They stop at a washed-out poster advertising the event.)

Sunny Skies: —back when there still was a Festival.

(He turns to a trophy, whose lack of color stands in sharp contrast to the pictures surrounding it.)

Sunny Skies: Seems even though we faded, the memory never did. I come here sometimes for inspiration. (He floats up his quill and scroll and starts to jot again.) I need plenty for this speech I’m writin’. (Petunia Petals enters.) Biggest one of my life.

(The instant he claps eyes on her, he becomes deeply flustered. She has shed her librarian duds from the previous act, but has kept the mane band and flower.)

Sunny Skies: Oh! (Shift the items behind his back.) Didn’t see you there.

Petunia Petals: Sunny! Heh. I didn’t know you were here.

Sunny Skies: (laughing shakily, stammering, hurrying out) J-Just leavin’. Uh, I gotta finish this. Well, uh, see—see you later.

(Twilight continues her perusal of the artifacts on display.)

Twilight: (awed) Whoa…the Festival was really something, wasn’t it?

Petunia Petals: It used to be wonderful. (Both cross to a display case at the far wall.) It brought the whole town together for a long time. (She spreads out three snapshots stacked on a counter.) And these pictures…are from the last Festival.

(Close-up of the leftmost one as she finishes: full color, Sunny Skies standing on the platform in front of City Hall and ready to fire up the Generator. Spectators watch eagerly, with the exception of one scowling stallion at the very back. Pan to the middle one: color gone, Generator going haywire, the stallion turning away.)

Petunia Petals: (from o.s.) You can see…

(On to the rightmost: also grayed out, the stallion facing ahead, Sunny Skies ready to set it off.)

Petunia Petals: (from o.s.) …it didn’t go well. (Twilight’s field lifts this one toward the camera.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Right. (Cut back to her and Petunia Petals.) The Mayor’s magic in the Generator caused the colors to go.

Petunia Petals: That’s what Sunny thinks. He blames himself for it, but— (smiling) —I’m still not convinced it was anything other than an accident.

(The Princess swings all three photos around and into a hovering line.)

Twilight: There’s something strange about this. (Her perspective, bringing one after another closer to her eyes.) I just can’t put my hoof on it.

(Back to her; she lays them on the nearest counter.)

Twilight: If only the Generator hadn’t been destroyed.

Petunia Petals: (from o.s.) Not all of it was.

(The violet mare gasps softly as these words sink in, and she turns to find the gray one fishing around inside a desk. With a bit of effort, Petunia Petals heaves up a portion of the ruined Generator and plunks it down under a lit lamp.)

Twilight: (softly) Woooow…

Petunia Petals: I don’t keep it out because I know it hurts the Mayor to see it.

Twilight: Mind if I borrow this?

(Snap to black.)

Act Six

(Opening shot: snap to a long shot of the rainbow billboard, now fully repaired and seeming to glow with color as it stands tall and proud above the entrance to Hope Hollow. Pegasi flit around it as the camera zooms out to frame the still-gray town square, where Applejack and Torque are gazing up at the end result of their pooled efforts. A toolbox rests on the stones between them. Sunny Skies’s laugh is heard; cut to ground level as he crosses to them.)

Sunny Skies: Great job! It’s even better than it was before, dontcha know!

(And it begins to draw a crowd of curiously murmuring onlookers, including a family of three—unicorn father, pegasus mother and son.)

Father: Rainbow Festival?

Mother: (Minnesota accent) Didn’t know it was still goin’ on. (Sunny Skies bounds over and drapes a foreleg across each adult’s shoulders.)

Sunny Skies: Sure is! Bigger and better than ever! (under his breath) I hope. (hurrying away) Tell all your friends!

Colt: (bouncing in place) Can we go, Mama?

Mother: (smiling) I suppose so. Why not?

(She and Father depart, and the colt draws in a delighted gasp as a wisp of magic lifts him off his hooves and turns his mane bright yellow. He trots in place and laughs merrily before flying off after them. Back to Applejack, Sunny Skies, and Torque.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Mr. Mayor… (Pan to frame her, landing with saddlebags on back, Generator stuffed in.) …I hope you don’t mind, but—

Sunny Skies: (aghast) Where’d you find that? (Petunia Petals joins them.)

Petunia Petals: I gave it to her, Sunny. She has an idea.

Sunny Skies: Best idea would just be to throw that thing in the trash heap!

Twilight: My theory is that the Generator magnifies whatever magic it uses.

(She kick-starts her horn as she speaks, the camera panning away to a patch of sky and putting her out of view. A rough sketch of the original, intact device is quickly traced out in the air, and it vibrates and sends out pulses from both ends.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Makes it stronger. (A wrench overlays itself on the image and both disappear.) So if we could rebuild it…

(A new picture of the Generator appears, fitted with additional tubes and gears, along with a book. Pages flip and a tendril of magic snakes from the latter to the former.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) …and use one of the reversal spells I just read about…

(Vanish the book; the Generator becomes wreathed in multicolored energy and flips onto one end. A miniature sketch of Hope Hollow pops up, facing the lens.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) …it could work to bring color back to the town!

(The power is discharged in a rainbow blast, transferring that shimmering aura to the village, and both fade away. Back to her, Petunia Petals, and Sunny Skies; she floats the Generator out of her bags.)

Sunny Skies: Even if we could get it workin’ again, which is quite a tall order… (Pan to frame Applejack on his other side during the next line.)

Applejack: Not for a gifted repair pony—  (glancing knowingly to her other side) —who I just happen to know.

(Here comes said repair pony.)

Torque: Let me take a look-see. (She gives the thing a penetrating stare and smiles.) Yah, I could give her a go.

Sunny Skies: (laughing) I don’t want to get my hopes up, but… (beaming, jumping in place) …yahoo! (Torque balances it on her head and starts for her shop.)

Torque: Don’t worry. I’ll get to work.

Petunia Petals: Um, how’s your speech comin’, Sunny? (He blushes.) I’d be happy to help you with it if you’d like.

Sunny Skies: (hastily) Uh, oh, no, y-you couldn’t. Heh. Uh, uh, thanks, but, uh, I have to do a little Mayor-type business, dontcha know, but I’ll check back in a little bit to see how everythin’s goin’.

(He bugs out with a speed that would make either Pinkie or Rainbow proud, leaving three very confused mares in his wake.)

Petunia Petals: Hmmm…he’s actin’ so peculiar.

Applejack: From what I’ve seen of the Mayor, how can you tell exactly when “peculiar” kicks in?

(Petunia Petals has no immediate response to this. Dissolve to an overhead shot of the Hoofingtons’ backyard. They, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Moody are seated around a picnic table set with a couple of cakes, and a cart stacked high with pies stands parked nearby. Both unicorns are liberally splotched with ingredients, and Mr. H is wearing a chef’s toque—side effects of a marathon baking session. Zoom in slowly, the silence unbroken as Moody considers a pie he is holding, then cut to the table. He takes a large bite, then another, and soon he has eaten the whole thing.)

Moody: Mmm! Mmm-mmm-mmm! (to Mr./Mrs. H) If I’d-a known your pie was this good, I’d-a given you those apricots ages ago!

Mrs. H: Mr. Hoofington did all the baking.

Mr. H: (wiping dough off her cheek) Aww, inspired by you, snookums. (He kisses the spot; close-up of Moody.)

Moody: Say, the whole town should know about this here pie!

Pinkie: (from o.s.) Oh, don’t worry. (Zoom out; she now lounges against the cart.) They will.

(A bit of climbing allows her to pop up from the stacked pies, holding one as others tumble every which way.)

Pinkie: We’re gonna give it away at the Rainbow Festival!

Moody: Wait, what? (He hops away from the table.) There’s still a Rainbow Festival?

Fluttershy: Uh-huh.

(The oldster laughs, hitches himself to the cart, and begins to tow it around toward the front of the house. Zoom in on the branches of an apricot tree, every one of whose fruits sparks into a bright orange color, then dissolve to a close-up of the Generator resting on a workbench. It has been fully rebuilt, with conduits and gears added to match the tweaks made by Sunny Skies during his Act Three song, and a gleam of light plays across the bodywork.)

Torque: (from o.s., reaching into view to pat it) Well, here it is.

(Cut to her, standing over the rig in her shop, and zoom out on the start of the next line to frame Twilight/Applejack/Petunia Petals watching. The Princess is no longer hauling her saddlebags.)

Torque: Had to hoof-build some of the parts myself, but it’s as good as new. (Applejack crosses to look it over.)

Applejack: Hoo-wee! (Pat it.) This looks amazin’, Torque! Nopony else coulda pulled this off.

Twilight: (to Torque) Thank you so much for your help.

Torque: It was a real challenge. But turns out, that was part of the run. (Chuckle.)

(Twilight floats the Generator off the workbench, and she and Torque head across the shop—turning away just in time not to see a few of the flowers in a planter box regain their bright pigmentation. Applejack, on the other hand, is perfectly placed to observe the effect.)

Applejack: (eyes popping) Whoa! Did—did y’all see that?

(But a zoom out answers that question “no,” in triplicate. Twilight brings the machine down onto a small table while Petunia Petals and Torque watch.)

Twilight: Now we need to test it.

Petunia Petals: Should we call the Mayor?

Twilight: Might be best to make sure it works first. I’d hate to disappoint him.

(Her magical hold brings over a book from a side table—the one she had found in the library—and Applejack crosses to them as she leafs through it.)

Applejack: Uh, Twilight, I think I saw—

Twilight: In a moment, Applejack. This is important.

Applejack: Yeah, but—

Twilight: Turn on the Generator.

Applejack: Huh. Okay.

(She taps the case, setting off a flurry of mechanical jitters. Twilight and Petunia Petals gasp in wonderment, then Applejack and Torque, and the device goes quiet at the central lens rises on its support. It sends up a swirl of scintillating colors that resolves into a sparkling rainbow above the four heads. Twilight has put her book aside.)

Applejack: Huh. Well, look at that!

Petunia Petals: Oh, isn’t it beautiful? That’s what the Generator’s always done, for years and years!

Twilight: (bracing herself) Now we just add magic, and…

(She hits the Generator with a blast from her horn. Cut to an overhead shot of the workshop, light spilling from every window and doorway to white out the screen. After a full three seconds, fade in to an overhead close-up of the mage and zoom out to frame the entire workshop floor. She cracks one eye open, squinting warily around the area at the now-silent device and the other three. The rainbow has dissipated, to the consternation of all, and they gasp softly at the total lack of any color change in their surroundings and head for the door. Cut to just outside; they emerge into the square and find the locals and locale just as dull as before, the camera zooming out slowly down the street.)

Twilight: (sighing glumly) I’m sorry. I thought for sure it would work.

(Inside again; she, Petunia Petals, and Torque gather around the Generator.)

Petunia Petals: Let’s not tell the Mayor. It would break his heart.

Twilight: No. We have to tell him we failed. We can’t bring the color back.

(Applejack turns her attention to the planter box and the freshly re-colored flowers.)

Applejack: Hmmm. (addressing herself across shop) Twilight! I really think you should see this! You betcha—

Pinkie: (from outside shop) We did it!

Twilight: Eh?

Petunia Petals: Oh!

(Twilight flies out the door, Petunia Petals and Torque following on hoof and leaving Applejack to voice an irritated sigh over being ignored. Out in the square, they find the Hoofingtons escorting Moody and the pie cart, whose cargo has been transferred from roof to interior. A humming Pinkie hops along with them, while Fluttershy flies overhead. Mr. and Mrs. H have cleaned up from their pie-making session, and Mr. H no longer wears his toque.)

Pinkie: Everything you need for the Rainbow Festival bake sale!

(Unhitching himself on these words, Moody bucks the wagon to fold down its side panels and bring up shelf on shelf of whole and sliced pies.)

Fluttershy: Courtesy of the Hoofingtons.

Mr. H: And Mr. Moody Root! (Who chuckles.)

Twilight: Ooh! Everything looks delicious!

Petunia Petals: Mr. Moody Root! (crossing to him; Fluttershy lands) Why, I haven’t seen you in the library in ages!

Moody: High time I came back. Uh, you got any of them there cookbooks?

(He trails off into a gasp as a laughing Barley and Pickle sweep low over the group and rise to spin around the cupola projecting from the roof of Torque’s shop. Next come a pair of loop-the-loops in tight synchronization, a pull apart, and a veer back to fly in close formation. Rainbow touches down next to an admiring Torque.)

Torque: Hey! They’re pretty good!

Rainbow: They’ve been practicing their tails off for the big show.

Torque: What big show?

Rainbow: The Rainbow Festival. (She rises several yards and hovers.) They’re the official entertainment.

(Down she goes, leaving the sky clear for the two pegasi to home in on each other. A confident grunt from Barley is the prelude for their corkscrewing descent, which ends just a bit earlier than planned when they collide and hit the ground in a sliding heap.)

Rainbow: (helping Barley hover off Pickle’s back, laughing gamely) Uh…landing still needs a little work.

Rarity: (from o.s.) You’re all here!

(Cut to her and Kerfuffle, the former having traded her shawl for a polka-dotted kerchief tied around her neck and the latter towing a cart loaded with fashion items and protected by a canopy.)

Rarity: Wonderful! You can help us set up our cart. (They stop; Kerfuffle unhitches herself.) “Kerfuffle’s Official Rainbow Festival Accessories.”

Kerfuffle: Ta-da! (Pinkie and Rainbow take a close look.)

Rainbow: (laughing appreciatively) Whoa! Nice stuff! (Barley and Pickle gather in, standing.)

Kerfuffle: And I designed color-matched accessories for each of you.

(Pinkie, trying on a pair of sunglasses with star-shaped lenses, has a bit of trouble processing this statement.)

Pinkie: Um, I can’t help but notice that the color-matched accessories don’t have much color.

Rarity: (levitating shades back onto cart) Well, of course not, silly. The town doesn’t have any color, remember? (Wink.)

Pinkie: (nodding, catching on) Ohhh, right!

Kerfuffle: Oh, but don’t worry. I know where the colors are supposed to be.

(She hovers near the cart, removing items in turn as Rarity lifts others in her field.)

Kerfuffle: An orange scarf for Applejack, red leggings for Fluttershy…

(The magic slides these onto all four yellow legs.)

Fluttershy: Ooooh!

Kerfuffle: The pink flower lei is for…well, you know who.

Pinkie: No, who?

(Following a long beat of silence, she breaks into hearty laughter over her own joke and bounds over so Kerfuffle can drape the strand around her neck.)

Pinkie: Mmm-hmm.

Rarity: And look at my purple kerchief. Isn’t it divine?

Kerfuffle: (putting goggles over Rainbow’s eyes) The blue goggles are for Rainbow Dash.

(The recipient of this gift hovers up with a sly chuckle; now she turns to Barley and Pickle, carrying two more pairs, and Pickle rises to her level.)

Kerfuffle: (equipping Barley with one) And I think I have some that might match for you too. (Pickle accepts and dons the second.)

Pickle: Whoa!

Barley: Whoa!

Kerfuffle: (digging in cart) And something very special for Princess Twilight…

(What she comes up with is a pair of wing covers in a range of hues and tailored to fit over the individual feathers.)

Kerfuffle: …wing bling! In every shade of the rainbow, dontcha know!

(As she describes them, Rarity lifts them away in her magic and the camera cuts to Twilight, who spreads her wings so they can be fitted on. They contour themselves perfectly to her movements.)

Twilight: (gasping) Kerfuffle, this is amazing! Everypony, you’ve done great work. (Pinkie giggles softly; she voices a sad little sigh.) I just wish I could’ve done my part. I hate to admit it, but…I’m stuck. I don’t know how to make the town’s color come back.

(Only now does Applejack join the collective, moving a frantic gallop and spitting a flower to the ground at Twilight’s hooves. It is one of the revived blooms from Torque’s planter, as seen in close-up; on the start of the next line, cut to frame the farmer and the Princess.)

Applejack: That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell you! It is comin’ back!

(The color now spreads to fill the entire box, sparking gasps from all the witnesses, and turns the pie crusts golden brown. Next the frames of the hovering foals’ new goggles turn bright red; they murmur excitedly and trade high fives, and the effect washes over Kerfuffle’s cart and its contents.)

Fluttershy: W-What’s happening?

Rarity: Something wonderful!

Twilight: But…how? (She levitates the flower Applejack brought and ponders it.) It wasn’t the Generator. (Drop it; an idea strikes.) Which means something else must’ve drained the town’s color in the first place! (Hover.) I have to get back to the library!

(She flies off, Petunia Petals scrambling to follow. Snap to black.)

Act Seven

(Opening shot: snap to an overhead shot of Twilight and Petunia Petals at a table in the Rainbow Room, as seen in Act Five, and zoom in slowly. The three photos that Twilight found during her earlier visit have been laid out under a strong desk lamp with built-in magnifier.)

Twilight: I thought so! (Close-up of the two.) Look, in the second photo. When the Generator goes off… (Her perspective of it; she points out the stallion turning from the breakdown.) …this pony is walking away. (Pan to the third one.) But on the third photo, when all the color’s gone, he’s back where he was!

(Cut to her and Petunia Petals.)

Twilight: Which means…

Petunia Petals: (gasping, shocked) We have to tell the Mayor!

Sunny Skies: (from o.s.) Tell me what?

(Both look toward the entrance and find him entering with bow tie hanging loose and top hat floating in easy reach.)

Petunia Petals: Sunny! (She and Twilight cross to him.) Have you seen what’s happenin’ outside?

Sunny Skies: (blushing donning hat, doing up tie) No, I’ve been in here for a while, workin’ on my speech.

Twilight: (to Petunia Petals) Maybe we should just show him.

(Dissolve to the town square, now properly decorated for the Rainbow Festival, and zoom in slowly through a throng of murmuring passersby toward a long table set up at the periphery. It is manned by the Hoofingtons and stacked with pies and slices thereof, and Fluttershy and Pinkie look on from opposite ends as the old stallion levitates a sample.)

Mr. H: (voice raised) Who wants apricot pies? (Close-up; a mare takes the pie from him.) Best pies in Hope Hollow!

Mrs. H: (passing another one over) Pies for sale! Yummy-licious!

(The parents of the colt who got his mane re-colored in Act Six step up.)

Mother: Hello there, Mr. Hoofington, Mrs. Hoofington. Been a while.

Mrs. H: How lovely to see you.

(A swirl of energy restores color to both proprietors and their wares.)

Mrs. H: Oh!

(Cut to Moody, hitched to the cartload of pies; Pinkie holds up one that is still in monochrome.)

Pinkie: What’s better than one pie? (She grabs four more; passersby gasp/murmur.) Lots of pies! (Juggle, then toss them up to land in a stack.) Official Rainbow Festival goodness right here, now!

(Their crusts brown to match the others, to the audible amazement of the growing crowd, and even Moody chips in a hoarse gasp. Elsewhere, Rarity and Kerfuffle are hawking the latter’s creations at her cart.)

Rarity: Over here, darlings! Just look what Kerfuffle has come up with!

Mare 2: (to Kerfuffle, trying on sunglasses) I never knew you did such great work! I have to visit your shop.

Trout: Hey, you got anything waterproof?

Kerfuffle: Mmm-hmm.

(She gasps in awe as their colors return. The mare is blue-violet, with a curly light yellow-brown mane/tail in two shades, purple eyes, and a deep pink kerchief around her neck; the lenses’ frames are magenta. Trout is off-white, with a blond mane and blue eyes. Cut to a long shot of the town square, tilting slowly down from the reconstructed rainbow to pick out the vivid islands standing out among the gray—some stationary, others moving on four legs—and Twilight/Petunia Petals/Sunny Skies approaching from the direction of City Hall. The elected official gasps in unparalleled delight upon taking in the panorama of activity.)

Sunny Skies: Ohhhh! But…colors! (to Twilight) So…you were able to reverse the Generator?

Petunia Petals: The Generator had nothin’ to do with it, and never did.

Sunny Skies: So…none of it was my fault?

Petunia Petals: No, you big doofus! How many times have I tried to tell you that? All those years you blamed yourself for nothin’.

Twilight: (floating out photos from Rainbow Room) These photos from the library explain everything.

(Cut to a close-up of them before Sunny Skies’s eyes as she finishes, then back to her.)

Twilight: Once I realized they were out of order…

(Back to them, her aura switching the places of the middle and rightmost ones.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) …it proved that the town’s colors got dim before you turned on the Generator. (Back to the two.)

Sunny Skies: (jumping in place) Boy howdy, am I glad to hear that! Uh, but then, what did cause it?

Twilight: It’s called “hopeless magic.” Everypony was already giving up on each other, losing hope. Then—

(Close-up of the new last photo.)

Twilight: (from o.s., pointing to it) —when the Generator blew up, it must’ve been the last straw. It took all the hope out of the town for good—

(Back to her and Sunny Skies on the end of this.)

Twilight: —along with the color. But now…

(Cut to the square; more are shifting out of black-and-white.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) …there’s a different kind of magic, of everypony coming together again. (Back to her and Sunny Skies.) Just the way you wanted it, Mayor.

(Applejack and Torque ascend to the platform in front of City Hall, the repair expert hauling the Generator in a pair of saddlebags.)

Torque: What do you know? There is still a Rainbow Festival!

Twilight: And we’d better get it started. This town’s been waiting long enough.

Torque: (setting device on lectern) The Generator’s workin’ again, Mr. Mayor, just the way your grandpa built her.

Sunny Skies: (hesitantly, pacing to platform) Heh. I just hope my speech lives up to the occasion.

Twilight: (addressing crowd) Attention, please! Welcome to the brand-new Hope Hollow Annual Rainbow Festival!

(Cut here and there among the crowd, faces turning inquisitively in her direction, and back on the previous line.)

Twilight: And here’s the pony who made it all possible… (stepping aside) …Mayor Sunny Skies!

(Cheers ring out as the unicorn rises to the lectern and addresses himself into its attached microphones. Twilight and Petunia Petals are off to one side of the platform, Applejack/Rarity/Torque to the other, Rainbow hovering with Barley and Pickle. His next ten lines are amplified.)

Sunny Skies: I am as proud as a two-tailed peacock to see you all here today, to once again celebrate our little town at the end of the rainbow. (More jubilation.)

Kerfuffle: (softly, warmly) Awww…

Sunny Skies: And I can’t give enough thanks to Rainbow Dash…

(The blue mare offers a cocky little grin; cut to each named mare in turn.)

Sunny Skies: (from o.s.) …Princess Twilight…

(Nod and soft giggle from her; cut to Fluttershy, Moody, and the folded-up pie cart, whose walls burst open to reveal Pinkie with filling smeared all over her face. Moody is unhitched.)

Sunny Skies: (from o.s.) Pinkie Pie…

(She giggles and throws a chummy foreleg around the old stallion’s shoulders.)

Sunny Skies: (from o.s.) …Fluttershy…

(Who waves and giggles softly; cut to Applejack and Rarity, the former now wearing the kerchief-style scarf made for her by Kerfuffle.)

Sunny Skies: (from o.s.) …Rarity, and Applejack.

(The first tosses her mane; the second grins and chuckles. Back to the platform.)

Sunny Skies: My grandpa started this festival to celebrate us. (Cut to Twilight and Petunia Petals, who trade smiles as he continues o.s.) The ponies of Hope Hollow. (Back to him.) It’s you who brought friendship back to our town—

(Cut to the yellow-maned colt and his parents in the crowd; all gasp as they regain their full color. His coat is pale blue, and his eyes are yellow-green.)

Sunny Skies: (from o.s.) —and all the bright colors that come with it. (Son nuzzles Mother; back to him.) We just have to always remember to reach a hoof out to our neighbors.

(Moody offers a lopsided grin to the Hoofingtons.)

Sunny Skies: (from o.s.) To respect and listen and talk to each other. You never know what just sayin’ hello to somepony can do.

(On this line, they nuzzle affectionately and he reverts to the color scheme he displayed in Sunny Skies’s Act Three song/flashback, but with his mane/tail gone fully white now. Back to the lectern.)

Sunny Skies: So, without further ado…

(Zoom out quickly; Pinkie hops across, lugging the portable karaoke machine she showed off in Act Three and with her face clean. The rig is switched on and blaring accompaniment.)

Pinkie: (singing off-key into microphone)                 Here we go, this is the moment, yeah

                                                        Let the Rainbow Festival begin

(Sunny Skies offers a dry chuckle and taps the Generator to start it up. The lens rises to send up a beam that explodes into a slowly spreading shock wave of vivid color. The Festival attendees are abuzz with excitement as the afterimages wash over them, and piece by piece the town begins to come back to its old lively self. The blue colt watches with delight as the effect spreads to his ice cream soda.)

Colt: Whoa! What’s happening?

(Now it catches up to Torque and Applejack’s scarf, which goes a deep orange. The repair mare proves to have a coat fairly close to Fluttershy’s light yellow, a bright red mane/tail, and light blue eyes; her work shirt is light blue, the overalls darker blue denim, the bandana tied across her mane a light green.)

Torque: Wow…

(Applejack chuckles softly. Twilight spreads her wings as the covers Kerfuffle made for them turn a range of pastel greens/blues/yellows, dominated by the same light violet of her coat.)

Twilight: Whoa…

(Rarity’s polka-dotted kerchief goes two shades of violet, to Kerfuffle’s great joy.)

Kerfuffle: It’s exactly as I imagined it!

(Now it is her turn to be touched by the spreading magic, ending up with a coat nearly the same shade as that of her role model. Pink/white mane; solid pink tail; light yellow vest with a blue belt; deep purple eyes. Cut to a long shot of the rainbow billboard and zoom out slowly to frame the entire town under a freshly re-blued sky as the Generator pours power into the sky for some seconds more before shutting off. The frames of Rainbow’s goggles have gone bright blue, and every visible scrap of the place has regained its old visual splendor—with four prominent exceptions: Petunia Petals, Sunny Skies, Barley, and Pickle. The fountain at the center of the town square is gushing as it did before the calamity struck.)

Petunia Petals: That was a beautiful speech, Sunny.

Sunny Skies: What? Oh, no, uh, that wasn’t my speech.

Petunia Petals: But, uh…then what have you been writin’ all day?

Sunny Skies: Well, uh…another speech. (Blush; tug at bow tie.) I mean, it’s…for later, but… (dropping head) …ah, flapjacks. I guess now’s as good a time as any.

(His field brings out the scroll he was scribbling at in the Rainbow Room, and he sighs quietly.)

Sunny Skies: (reading) “Petunia, you’ve never given up on me—or the town. You always had hope when we had none, and…”

(Cut to the six Ponyville mares on the end of this, gathering in with Torque. Fluttershy’s leggings and Pinkie’s lei are indeed the red and pink claimed by Kerfuffle, respectively, and Pinkie has stowed her karaoke machine. The camera returns to Petunia Petals and Sunny Skies for the next line.)

Sunny Skies: “…I can’t imagine a day without you.” (Put the scroll away.) You’re the pony who brings color into my life. Petunia Petals… (He bends one foreleg at the knee and bows. A ripple of surprised murmurs.)

Petunia Petals: (softly, flabbergasted) Oh.

Sunny Skies: …will you marry me?

Petunia Petals: (pulling him up) Of course, you silly goose!

(They coo and nuzzle each other tenderly, to the sound of cheers up and down the square, and the magic restores their colors to the combinations seen in Act Three. Twilight and the four of her friends still on the ground smile/grin/beam at the happy occasion, as do Kerfuffle and Torque, and Rainbow circles her way up past the fountain with Barley and Pickle on her tail.)

Rainbow: Attention, everypony! Introducing Hope Hollow’s very own Junior Wonderbolts! (A new round of adulation.)

Barley: (to Pickle) Did you hear what she called us?

Pickle: Did you hear what she called us?

Barley, Pickle: Junior Wonderbolts!

(They laugh exultantly as the magic washes over them at last. Bright yellow coats; manes/tails in two shades of pale green; his sweatshirt and her cap are bright red, and her shirt is red/white.)

Pickle: All right!

(They describe circles around their mentor in opposite directions, ending in a laughing high five, and follow her into a sharp ascent. Rainbow stops above clouds, letting them giggle and swoop ahead into a hover facing her.)

Rainbow: Okay, guys. Showtime!

(Down she goes, then a laughing Pickle, and finally Barley. All three streak down through the clouds, Rainbow hitting the gas and setting off a Sonic Rainboom to wash the crowd in afterglow; the siblings burst through it and shake off brilliant fragments, but quickly get after her as she sweeps by. The formation shifts to a leisurely flyover of the square, after which the show ends with Barley and Pickle landing proudly—and neatly—side by side. Rainbow touches down on the platform to fill in a gap in the line formed by her five friends.)

Rainbow: Heh. (propping goggles on forehead) Now this is something I’m proud to be a guest of honor for.

(A scatter of butterflies wings past her face, and she gasps.)

Fluttershy: And it looks like there’s a butterfly garden after all!

Pinkie: Only one more thing could make this Rainbow Festival better.

Rarity: Oh, not more karaoke, darling!

Pinkie: What? No! (rising to hind legs) A trout DJ!

(Pan quickly to Trout, who is standing amid a bemused crowd with harmonica in mouth. He plays a few bars of a happy little melody, stopping to take a breath before his last note. Confetti rains down past the camera, the view changing to a laughing Pinkie among the partygoers.)

Pinkie: Now that’s a party!

A cappella, lively 4 (E major)

(Zoom in on the platform.)

All:                        We’re living in color

Subdued piano and bass drum

(Twilight takes off, wings glowing and leaving a sparkly rainbow contrail.)

Twilight:                Step out of the shadows and into the light

                        Where it’s bright and you might see all the colors you are

(Rainbow circles her, and the two veer around each other as they cruise in parallel.)

Rainbow:                Or any color you want to be, that your mind can see

                        And wear them bright like a shining star

Piano out; strings in; percussion builds

(A rainbow smear passes the screen to shift the view to a stall staffed by Rarity and Kerfuffle, who are equipping two gray customers with bright accoutrements. Their color quickly returns, and they gallop happily away.)

Rarity:                Why just be black and white?

                        No need to hide all those colors inside

(Behind the trailing ends of their new scarves, the scene shifts to Fluttershy and several colts/fillies in the ersatz “butterfly garden” shown by Sunny Skies in Act Three. The pictures lie forgotten as the real McCoys flit about to the delight of all.)

Fluttershy:                ’Cause when they shine up light, it just feels right

Piano and bass guitar in

(Behind two sets of wings, wipe to the square; lines of brightly hued residents parade back and forth.)

All:                        To be living in color

(A shower of confetti; now Rarity leads a procession as a squad of pegasi tows blue/purple banners overhead.)

                        We’ll be living in color

(Ponies stack up around the fountain, reaching to the top of its sculpture and organized into layers by similar hue.)

                        To be living in color

(Rainbows gush from the fixture and drain away to frame Pinkie painting one onto the yellow-maned pegasus colt’s cheek; the job done, he whirls into the sky with other winged youths in tow. Pinkie has removed her lei.)

                        We’ll be living in color

Bass/strings out; synthesizer in; percussion drops back

(Applejack trots past a line of ponies at the fountain; they start jumping in time as pegasi loop above.)

Applejack:                Make up any colors that you can devise

                        Mix ’em up, watch the joy as it multiplies

(A rainbow smears past and subsides to present Kerfuffle leading another winged squad through her own groove.)

Kerfuffle:                Make a rainbow and you will see

                        How together we are like

A cappella

(All rise off the ground into a loose arc with her at the center.)

All:                        One when we harmonize

Strings in; percussion builds

(Rarity trots past a line of ponies, outfitted in new duds, who get their color back and start to dance.)

Rarity:                Why just be black and white?

                        No need to hide all those colors inside

(Hats are flung upward; as they fall, the view changes to Fluttershy sitting in the park, the spider from the group’s Hope Hotel room in Act Two nestled in her mane. Diving into a nearby bush, she rises accompanied by a swarm of butterflies and a spray of confetti.)

Fluttershy:                ’Cause when we shine so bright, it just feels right

Bass in

(Twilight and friends stand around the support of the fountain’s sculpture, their backs to it. The camera tracks slowly around them and zooms out to frame lines of prancing ponies moving to and fro. Pinkie’s lei is on again, and the spider no longer rides on Fluttershy’s head.)

All:                        To be living in color

                        We’ll be living in color

(Barley and Pickle add a couple of aerial stunts, and Rainbow rises to smile at them both.)

                        To be living in color

                        We’ll be living in color

Acoustic guitar/strings with bass drum only

(Each singer in turn moves among a cluster of ponies who roughly match the color he/she mentions. First up: Fluttershy in a meadow, trailed by butterflies.)

Fluttershy:                “Hello, my friend” is a big bright yellow

(Twilight in the square.)

Twilight:                Violet’s what you get when you’re feeling mellow

(Moody shares a pie with his group.)

Moody:                Red is the part where your heart starts to glow

(Kerfuffle gallops past her cart and takes off; Rarity outfits this bunch with scarves.)

Kerfuffle:                 In the mood, in the groove, indigo

Drums build; guitar out; piano/bass in; vocal harmonies behind lyrics

(Tilt up into the sky; Rainbow leads her detachment through a wide loop as Barley and Pickle watch.)

Rainbow:                Blue is the sky, spinning high as can be

(Applejack makes room for two lines to come together before one of Moody’s apricot trees.)

Applejack:                Orange can amaze, bringin’ days that are sunny

(Zoom in quickly on the sun, which dissolves to become a pie held aloft in Mrs. H’s magic in an overhead shot. She leads her platoon across a grassy field.)

Mrs. H:                Green is serene, take a breath, feel new

(Pinkie hops merrily among a knot of revelers and lets a bunch of balloons float free, now wearing a party hat along with her lei.)

Pinkie:                Feel all the living colors

A cappella

(Pan across the groups, the background appropriately tinted behind each, and zoom out quickly to frame all of them. Pinkie has ditched the hat and lei for the moment.)

All:                        There’s a rainbow in you

Percussion in; harmonies continue (G flat major)

(A mass, march-style dance slowly converges on the Ponyville gang’s fully mended balloon, standing tall and proud under the warmly glowing rainbow billboard.)

All:                        Now we’re living in color

                        Yeah, we’re living in color

                        Now we’re living in color

(Rainbow hovers over the basket as all the others but Twilight pile in. The violet mare hangs back for a second to acknowledge the gratitude of all those who worked with the group to bring Hope Hollow back to life—visually and otherwise. Pinkie is wearing her lei again.)

                        Yeah, we’re living in color

Bass/strings in; background lyrics in square brackets

                        We’re all living in color [living in color]

 (She beams at the newly engaged couple before Rainbow arcs past the camera. Behind her tail, wipe to a head-on shot of the other five on board and waving goodbye.)

                        We’re all living in color

(The speedster circles up to the base of the canopy while Twilight’s aura pulls the cord to ignite the burner.)

                        We’re all living in color [living in color]

(Zoom out quickly across the countryside to frame the craft lifting off for home amid a salvo of vibrant fireworks. Rainbow takes a seat in the basket with the others.)

                        Yeah, we’re living in color

                        We’re all living in

A cappella

                        Color

Song ends on a sustained chord and bass note

(One rocket sails toward the camera and fills the view with its multi-hued explosion, which fades away to leave the screen black.)

CLOSING CREDITS

Same style/tempo/key as opening sequence, but with electric guitar and bass synth only

Sharity:                Ah, ah, ah, ah, ooh

                        Ah, ah, ah, ah, ooh

                        Ah, ah, ah, ah, ooh

                        Ah, ah

Percussion in; bass guitar in

                        There’s a rainbow waiting, a song is playing

                        And I can’t wait to hit the road with you

                        There’s a rainbow waiting

                        And we got rainbow road-tripping to do

Bass out

                        Ah, ah, ah, ah, ooh

                        Ah, ah, ah

Song ends