MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS—ROLLERCOASTER OF FRIENDSHIP

Written by Nick Confalone

Produced by Angela Belyea

Story editing by Nick Confalone

Directed by Ishi Rudell

Co-directed by Katrina Hadley

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Notes:                  The original airing of this special on Discovery Family airing runs 44 minutes.

It was later released in five segments on YouTube; unlike the previous special

“Forgotten Friendship,” though, these releases do not include any deleted scenes

or additional footage. This transcript is therefore based on the Discovery Family

airing.

Each YouTube segment includes a title card, while the Discovery Family airing

does not.

Unless indicated otherwise, all acronyms are spoken one letter at a time.

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to a long overhead shot of an empty amusement park, seen from a short way outside the main entrance during the day. The camera pans slowly across the expanse of rides and attractions as a female voice begins to speak in dramatic fashion.)

Voice: Experience the world like you’ve never seen it before at the one, the only…Equestria Land!

(On these last two words, cut to a mechanized float as it rolls out of a hangar. Standing atop it are four women of varied skin and hair colors, waving/gesturing around themselves to a nonexistent crowd. They are clad in gray bodysuits and large white cardboard cutouts in assorted geometric shapes: triangle, circle, two squares—one larger than the other. The voice’s next words are delivered in the tone of an exasperated movie director.)

Voice: Stop! Cut!

(The float comes to an abrupt halt, nearly jarring the riders off its edge, and the camera pans slightly to frame the speaker, Vignette Valencia, standing directly in front of it. Her back is turned for the moment, exposing a long, sleeveless brown smock over a strapless white top with blue trim and separate short sleeves covering the upper arms. Light yellow skin with a tinge of tan; short, wavy pink hair shot through with white streaks and fading nearly to white at the ends; a patterned brown headband with a cluster of leaves and berries above each ear.)

Vignette: Cut!

(She turns to the camera and puts a hand to her forehead. The smock hangs open in front to show blue-green shorts and a belt buckle styled as a brown leaf, and a pale pink, square-cut gem is mounted on a cord choker at her throat. The brown-shadowed eyes over the pink-tinted lips are pale blue, with a beauty mark below the outer corner of the right one.)

Vignette: (addressing herself o.s.) Why is everyone dressed like they’re not dressed? 

(The camera angle changes to frame the object of her ire—a violet-skinned older woman whose piled-high hair displays two darker shades and is parted down the middle. Her long-sleeved coat is done in white and gray with gold trim and shoulder pads, a pink cape hanging down the back, and a high collar styled as a set of wings. The eyes are hidden behind opaque black sunglasses, and she speaks with a heavy Russian accent while stepping closer and folding her arms. This is the costume designer.)

Designer: Because you keep changing your mind about the costumes, Vignette Valencia.

(Longer shot, framing both in full for the first time. Vignette wears ankle-length brown boots, and her smock bears a purple fringe and a small leaf/berry pin on one lapel. The designer’s coat hem reaches down past the tops of her knee-high purple boots with platform soles.)

Vignette: (pulling out a cell phone) Do you know what it means to be in charge of public relations for this park? (pacing) It’s my job to make sure the world knows how amazing Equestria Land is gonna be. And in two weeks, when there’s fifty thousand people here for opening day, the last thing they’ll see before they leave at night will be this light parade— (turning to designer) —and by extension, your costumes, which apparently do not exist as of this moment.

(A few more steps bring her into the older woman’s personal space as a self-assured smile crosses her lips.)

Vignette: BYBB. (snapping pictures of herself.) “Be Yourself, but Better.” Do you even have a philosophy?

Designer: (counting on fingers) GWIQ. “Guess What? I Quit.”

(She strides away, leaving Vignette to utter a shuddery moan followed by a long inhalation to compose herself.)

Vignette: (snapping fingers) I NEED A STRESS SALAD!!

(As she seats herself at a nearby umbrella-shaded table, one of the four float riders darts away and swiftly delivers one, plying a pepper grinder over the bowl on the next line.)

Vignette: Where am I gonna find a new costume designer for the light parade with only two weeks left? (The rider opens her mouth to speak; Vignette puts a hand over it.) I’m not promoting you.

(The rider departs, her burst of optimism instantly quenched, as Vignette sets her phone down and regards the salad with a deflated sigh. Cut to her perspective of it, poking listlessly at the greens with her fork and impaling a bite.)

Vignette: If only I could put a filter on real life to make everything the way I want it.

(Back to her on the end of this; she eats the forkful, not noticing a wisp of deep purple magic that snakes into view through the air and zeroes in on the phone. It washes over the device, turning the smiling-face sticker on its case into one with a much less hospitable expression.)

Vignette: (brightly, picking it up) Only way to feel better is getting ten thousand likes with a perfect salad pic.

(It is aimed, the screen is tapped—and the entire bowl commits a minor breach of dining etiquette by turning monochrome and disappearing from the outside in. Nothing is left but a few rapidly dissipating motes of light, and she lowers the phone to confirm that her meal has indeed vacated the premises. After a moment of boggling at the now-empty table and glancing in vain around herself for any sign of a perpetrator, she looks quickly through a couple of past salad pictures.)

Vignette: Hey! Did somebody install a new app on my phone?

(Another touch at the screen causes it to project a translucent, low-resolution hologram of the last salad she brought up, this one composed entirely of fruit.)

Vignette: Oh!

(A tentative poke at the “food” causes the entire image to flicker with static for a moment.)

Vignette: (smiling cunningly) ’Cause I like it.

(Dissolve to an intersection in Canterlot city proper, zooming in slowly on the large building that occupies one corner, then cut to its interior—the Canterlot Mall. The camera pans across the busy food court, Applejack carrying a drink over to a table at which Rarity is seated and eyeing her phone worriedly. The farm girl takes a seat; cut to a close-up of both.)

Rarity: Anything? (Applejack pulls out hers and checks it.)

Applejack: Nothin’. (On the table it goes.) You? (The rest of the Rainbooms gather around.)

Rarity: (shaking head sadly) Uh-uh.

Pinkie Pie: Somebody has un-spilled beans at this table and it’s not me, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Twilight Sparkle, or Sunset Shimmer.

(The camera pans away from her to each pair of girls in turn as she mentions them. By the time Applejack speaks next, all but Pinkie have seated themselves around the table.)

Applejack: Rarity and I applied for summer jobs at the new theme park.

Pinkie: (squatting down to them) Equestria Land? Wait. Will you get to go there for free?

Applejack: Actually, they’d pay us to go there.

(The party planner shoots to her feet and claps hands to cheeks with an inarticulate babble of undiluted joy. Rarity has now laid her phone down as well.)

Applejack: (raising her cup) We applied to work side by side as caramel apple girls. (Pinkie takes it…)

Rarity: (sighing) Yes. (…and drinks, squatting to table level.) It’s not that I’m nervous, but…Applejack, you’re perfect for the job, and, well, my résumé is…less apple-centric.

Applejack: (chuckling) We’ll be together. I got a good feeling.

(The fashionista’s nerves quickly get the better of her, prompting her to snatch up her phone and scrutinize it closely. There follows a soft grunt of disappointment.)

Rarity: No missed calls while we were talking about caramel apples. Shall we practice answering our phone and sounding calm?

(Both devices sound off in unison, setting off a double yell of surprise and sending Rarity up to her feet. Pinkie, between the two, regards them incuriously over the mouthful she has sucked up from Applejack’s drink.)

Sunset: That was about as calm as Pinkie Pie on cake day. (Pinkie whips over to her in a tizzy.)

Pinkie: Was it today? Did I miss it?!?

(A raised yellow-orange finger calms her down, and the owner of said finger smirks in Fluttershy’s general direction as Pinkie takes a worried pull.)

Rarity: (sitting down) One new email!

Applejack: It’s from the park!

Applejack, Rarity: You open yours first! (Pause.) No, you open yours first! (Both laugh.)

Applejack: Okay, okay. Same time. One, two— (Rarity taps her screen.)

Rarity: Too late. I opened mine.

(Her giddy squeal ends abruptly as if slashed off with a knife, her face falling once she gets a good eyeful of the message.)

Rarity: Oh. They said I’m overqualified for caramel apple girl. (Deep gasp; her mood quickly brightens.) They want me to be lead parade costume designer!

(Varied reactions of surprise and delight from all others save Applejack. Pinkie has balanced the drink cup at a thoroughly improbable angle on top of her head.)

Twilight Sparkle: You haven’t even started and you already got promoted!

Rainbow Dash: That’s gotta be a record.

Applejack: (crestfallen) I didn’t get the job. (smiling) But I’m really happy for you, Rarity.

Rarity: Oh, pffft! There must be a mix-up, darling.

Pinkie: (touching Applejack’s shoulder) Obviously the Internet mailman gave you the wrong letter. (Twilight starts to object, but halts at the next words.) I know that’s not how it works, but I’m trying to cheer you up.

Twilight: (adjusting glasses) Technically, Rarity didn’t get the job either, since she got a different job. So they’re probably about to send you another email with your promotion.

(The phone resting in front of Applejack chooses this moment to assert itself, and she seizes it with a gasp while standing up. A glance at the screen leads into a full-body slump of defeat in close-up.)

Applejack: (sitting, groaning) Just a sale at Stinky Bottom’s Discount Hat Emporium. (Rainbow slides across to peek over her shoulder.)

Rainbow: (coaxingly) Forty percent off! (Applejack shoots her a dirty look; she backs off.) Oh, sorry. Not helping.

(A bit of super speed carries her away from this side of the table; cut to Rarity on the start of the next line.)

Rarity: (nervously) Well, I-I’m not going to accept it without you, obviously. Pfft! (Grin.)

Applejack: What!? You cannot let this opportunity pass you by, Rarity. Think of all those vision boards! The late-night sewing! This has been your dream since…since kindy-garten! (Rarity swallows audibly.)

Rarity: Preschool, actually. But that’s not the point. My mind is made up. We planned to spend the summer together, and…that’s what we’re going to do. (grinning tentatively) Riiiiight?

(Her slow, hopeful blinks have absolutely no effect on her opposite number’s steeled resolve.)

Applejack: You’re takin’ the job, and that’s final.

Rarity: (hastily) Okay, if you insist! (Ecstatic squeal.) I’m gonna be a costume designer!

(Six of seven voices take part in a burst of jubilation, after which the rejected job hunter musters up a weak chuckle.)

Applejack: All right. (to Sunset) I probably shouldn’t have quit my old job this mornin’, huh?

Sunset: I’m sure they haven’t replaced you already.

(Cut to the juice/smoothie kiosk at which Applejack worked in the “Shake Things Up!” short. On duty behind the counter is Bulk Biceps, wearing a male version of her work outfit complete with hairnet and magenta bow tie. As Derpy Hooves and Octavia look over the wares, he turns to the row of blenders and scratches his head over them for a moment until a brainstorm strikes. He lifts a partly filled pitcher off its base, shakes it vigorously, and is rewarded with the top popping off to drench him in the now-liquefied contents. Back to Applejack and Sunset, a look of great trepidation passing between both pairs of eyes.)

Sunset: Eh…

(Dissolve to a welcome plaza inside the front entrance of Equestria Land, where Rarity and Vignette are standing near a column painted in pink/yellow/green barber-pole stripes and dotted with yellow stars. The teen clutches a sketchbook expectantly, while the public-relations ace has a file folder in hand. Sweeping and carrying tasks go on around them as Vignette addresses Rarity in a most chipper tone of voice.)

Vignette: My name is Vignette Valencia. (leading Rarity away) And to answer your first question—yes, I’m that Vignette, but no, I do not think I’m better than you just because I have three million followers on Snapgab. (Rarity, having fallen behind, scrambles to catch up as she finishes.)

Rarity: (sighing, surprised) You’re up to three million now? (composing herself) I mean…yes, uh, yes, I-I am familiar with your online repertoire.

Vignette: I have a good feeling about you, Rare. Oh, you have to let me call you Rare. It’s the perfect name for Lead Parade Costume Designer.

(She extends a palm in front of herself and swings it in a slow arc to point up these last four words.)

Vignette: (contemptuously, skimming folder contents) Not a, um, caramel apple girl. (closing it) I don’t even know why you applied for a job like that. (smiling, pulling out phone) Not with a Snapgab feed like yours.

Rarity: Oh!

(The two approach the hangar from which the float rolled out at the start of this act. It has been removed, and the nearby table has been cordoned off with black/yellow-striped velvet ropes strung between posts.)

Vignette: Obviously I looked you up. Great pictures, by the way. That gingham and linen sundress caught my eye, and your follower count is im-pres-seeve— (Rarity blushes.) —for someone just starting out, of course. (turning Rarity’s chin to face her) But I can already tell you’ve got magique inside.

(Rarity’s breath catches in her throat for a split second.)

Rarity: Magi—you can?

Vignette: The light parade is the most important event in the park. Over a hundred cast members— (pointing at her) —and you are going to make them look perfect.

(The new employee lets out a shaky, enraptured little sigh.)

Vignette: (leading her past the table) Oh, and before I forget— (suddenly no-nonsense) —don’t put anything on that table, especially your phone. (casually, walking off alone) No reason, just a super-important rule I made up, ’kay?

(With a gleeful nod, Rarity hustles to catch up. Wipe to the barn at Sweet Apple Acres and zoom in, the main doors swung wide open so the sound of mingled grunts and squishes can drift out unobstructed. A close-up inside frames Applejack from the waist up, dressed in the work clothes she sported for her cleaning chores in the “Five to Nine” short. Spurts of muck fly up from below as she stomps with gusto, but the ringing of her phone brings a halt to the activity as she pulls it out and answers, a smile crossing her face.)

Applejack: Rarity!

(A vertical panel containing the caller slides in from the left to establish a split-screen view; she is seated at a sewing machine. During the next line, she switches the phone to speaker mode and rests it on the table.)

Rarity: Applejack! Darling! How is work on the farm? (Both resume their respective tasks.)

Applejack: (between grunts/stomps) Fantastic! I could not be happier makin’ foot-stompin’ applesauce the old-fashioned way with my family.

(On the end of this line, the camera cuts fully to the interior of the barn. She, Big Macintosh, and Apple Bloom are all standing in a large wooden tub whose sides reach nearly to their knees, and all six feet are bare and engaged in the process of crushing apple to pulp. Granny Smith relaxes with a book in a nearby chair.)

Granny: Less chatter, more splatter! (Split screen.)

Rarity: Oh, good! I’m so happy for you.

Applejack: And I’m happy for you and your new job, too.

(Both faces fall on this last, after which the camera cuts to Rarity and the yards of cloth spilling over her table. She is working in a curtained-off area shared by a small dresser, a full-length mirror, and a couple of small rugs on the floor.)

Rarity: (laughing nervously) Oh, yes, well…certainly a big job!

(As she finishes, another Equestria Land employee darts in to drop another bolt at her feet and the camera zooms out. She is one of five people in this design shop, which is dominated by the long rolls of fabric mounted on the back wall and the large worktable in the center of the floor. The other four scramble back and forth, bringing her yet more material, before the view returns to Applejack.)

Applejack: I’m sure you won’t slip up. (She slips and nearly falls.) Whoa!

Rarity: (over phone) Uh, well— (Back to her, phone to ear again.) —uh, I-I was calling because, you see— (giggling, slightly unhinged for a moment) —well, it s not that I’m nervous or anything silly like that, but I…I-I was wondering if…if you and the girls wanted to come on opening night to see the parade. VIP passes. You can cut the lines. (Applejack’s panel slides in from the right to split the screen.)

Applejack: You bet your britches, missy! I wouldn’t miss your big night for the world!

(As her feet slide out from under her, she has just enough time for one panicked squawk before dropping out of sight. The phone squirts out of her hand and goes down after her, a pained groan floating back up.)

Rarity: (puzzled) Applejack?

(Full view of the barn: the disgruntled blonde has fetched up at the edge of the tub, one arm and thoroughly besmirched leg hanging over the side. Bloom stifles a giggle as Macintosh allows himself an amused smile.)

Rarity: (over phone) Darling? Hel-loooo?

(Not missing a page, Granny picks up a towel from the floor and tosses it for Applejack to catch. Dissolve to a stretch of multicolored roller coaster track in the park, styled similarly to the Wild Blue Yonder coaster that figured prominently in “Grannies Gone Wild.” A trainload of screaming riders hurtles out of a tunnel bored through an artificial cloud and down a hill, the camera tilts down to frame Indigo Zap and a boy sharing a laugh at ground level. From here, cut to a slow tilt up along the height of a Ferris wheel whose cars are styled as hot-air balloons, then cut to a haunted house as thunder rips the air and lightning flashes emanate from all the windows. Bon Bon, Lyra Heartstrings, and Trixie are quick to flee the building in a screaming panic, a deep and malicious chuckle hanging in the air, after which the view shifts to a slow pan across the welcome plaza. Sunny Flare and a friend are hanging out at one side, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon near the barber-pole column, and the six Rainbooms not working at Equestria Land make their way in. Applejack has cleaned up and changed into her usual outfit, and Pinkie is no longer wearing the drink cup from the Canterlot Mall food court on her head.)

Pinkie: Equestria Land opening day! What should we do first? (to Applejack/Sunset) Appleloosa Wild West Stunt Show? (grabbing Fluttershy) Nightmare Moon’s Haunted Castle? (hanging upside down near Twilight and Rainbow) Sugarcube Everything?!? (The two shrug helplessly as she hoists herself out of sight; cut to Applejack.)

Applejack: Now hang on. (The others gather around, Pinkie holding cotton candy.) I got the sense Rarity’s overwhelmed, which is understandable. I mean, she’s all alone here without any of her friends— (under her breath) —which is why I wouldn’t have taken the job, but that’s just me.

Pinkie: (under end of previous, taking a bite) Mmm!

Applejack: (aloud) Uh, point is, we’re here to support Rarity.

(Any further deliberations are put on hold by the running passage of three squealing girls, who fall in with a chattering group that has clustered around Vignette when the camera cuts to her. Photo Finish is among them, raising her camera to get a picture of the group.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) What?

(Back to her and Pinkie, who is finishing off her treat and digging her phone out.)

Applejack: Uh, which character’s that? (Snap a photo.)

Pinkie: Ah, that’s not a character, silly. That’s Vignette Valencia. (The group, making silly faces, and back as she continues.) She’s famous on Snapgab, which you’d know if you actually logged in once in a while.  

(Pinkie passes her phone to Applejack.)

Pinkie: You’re missing my “One Cupcake Every Day” series. (She slumps dejectedly on her feet.)

Fluttershy: She posts a lot of pictures of her Welsh corgi named Yas Queen.

Rainbow: And she’s friends with, like, every awesome athlete in the world!

(She and Applejack shift their attention to Twilight, who starts in surprise at their pointed looks.)

Twilight: Don’t look at me! I only follow bots that post interesting science facts.

Applejack: (puzzled, looking at Pinkie’s phone) These are her pictures? (reading) “Chillin’ Sandy Style”?

(Her perspective of the screen: a swimsuit-clad Vignette taking a “selfie” photo on the beach. Buried up to her armpits in sand, she is flashing a peace sign with her free hand and puckering her lips playfully.)

Applejack: “You Know How I Do”?

(Back to her, Pinkie and Rainbow shifting a bit closer for a better view of the display.)

Applejack: “I Came, I Saw, I Vintaged”?

(The screen again on the end of this; now Vignette is back in her street clothes, sitting on a bench, and getting an overhead angle of herself holding a tennis racquet. The camera then returns to the three girls; Applejack’s confusion only grows as Pinkie and Rainbow trade a smiling nod behind her.)

Applejack: Okay, somebody tell me why this picture has twenty thousand likes?

(The screen again, displaying a video clip in which Vignette lies on a bed, her smock gone and with a shock of hair swept forward to cover one eye. She is on her back and aiming the camera straight down at herself.)

Vignette: (seductively) Hashtag “bangs.”

(The index finger of her free hand runs over teeth and lips in a come-hither gesture, after which the view returns to the group.)

Applejack: (uneasily) Uh, I don’t know. Spendin’ all that time just to look good in a picture ain’t my idea of fun.

Rarity: (from o.s., brightly) There you are! (She strolls across the plaza toward them on the end of this.)

Applejack: Here comes the lead parade costume designer! (The two embrace.)

Rarity: Guilty as charged. (She voices an airy giggle as they pull apart; Applejack has returned Pinkie’s phone.)

Applejack: So…you’ve been here solo without your best friends all this time. How can we help?

Rarity: Hold that thought.

(Zoom out slightly to put Vignette in the fore a short distance away, her admirers having dispersed.)

Rarity: (calling/waving to her) Vignette! Over here! (She turns to them.)

Applejack: (incredulously) You know Vignette Valencia?

Rarity: Pfft. Do I know her?

(She finishes the thought by trading kisses on both cheeks with her new boss.)

Rarity: Why, she’s my best friend at the park. (Applejack gasps sharply.)

Vignette: Selfie! (to Rarity) Oh, but can we use your phone? Mine’s been acting super-weird lately. (It is brought out and aimed.) Thanks. You’re the best.  

(She throws a peace sign as Rarity puckers up; once the camera clicks, the view shifts to point between their shoulders toward Applejack, whose face is covered by the raised phone. Rarity lowers it and trades beaming smiles with Vignette, neither of them noticing the openmouthed expression of unadulterated shock that has settled on Applejack’s face. Zoom in slightly as the green eyes flick fearfully from side to side and shift into an indignant, cross-armed glower, then snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of the seething, softly growling blonde.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) Everyone!

(Longer shot of all eight; Rarity has put her phone away and Vignette has hers out.)

Rarity: This is Vignette Valencia. She runs PR for the park, and she’s my boss.

Vignette: I told you not to use the B-word. I’m your friend…who gets to boss you around.

(The pale teen forces up a giggle and motions for her friends to follow suit; all but Applejack and Pinkie do so, the latter having real trouble making sense of what Vignette has just said. Cut to Applejack and Fluttershy.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) I don’t get it.

Rarity: (backing toward others, pointing them out) Heh…so this is Sunset Shimmer, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, and Fluttershy.

(Each offers a silent greeting in turn, but Fluttershy’s face registers concern as Rarity steps in front of Applejack at the far end of the line, blocking her from view. The last girl leans out from behind, loudly clearing her throat and surprising Rarity.)

Rarity: (stepping aside, laughing) Oh! And Applejack. (to her, badly flustered) Sorry, you were standing around, um—I-I-I didn’t see you.

(Over the end of this, Vignette shifts her interest from the girls to her phone.)

Vignette: (to herself) Hmmm…

Rarity: They’re my best friends. So…I thought you’d like to meet them.

Vignette: (not paying attention) Mmm-hmm.

Rarity: (trying to play it off) Uh…fun fact. Uh, we perform together in a band called the Rainbooms. (Fluttershy nods and offers a blushing smile; now Vignette looks their way, curiosity piqued.)

Vignette: Rainbooms? Why is that familiar? (checking phone, with growing excitement) A hundred thousand followers? Focused consumer-centric demographic, too? (A soft gasp.) Does your curated content consistently aggregate across multiple platforms?

(A very long and very tense silence follows this string of inquiries.)

Pinkie: (slowly and clearly) We sing songs together!

(One last glance at the screen, and Vignette draws in a louder, happy gasp.)

Vignette: I am going to turn you into the centerpiece of tonight’s light parade! (General confusion greets her statement.)

Rainbow: Uh, the Rainbooms? (Vignette whisks over to put a finger to her lips.)

Vignette: Shhhh. Are you ready? (gesturing with phone in other hand.) BYBB. “Be Yourself, but Better!” (sighing, circling around girls) That’s been my power phrase since I started my first company— (pulling Applejack/Fluttershy in closer; phone in pocket) —a middle-school girl selling artisanal handmade mascara. (semi-baby talk) “But isn’t that just melted crayons?” (airily, turning to face group) Heeey, naysayers gonna nay. But I say “BYBB.”

Fluttershy: Um, how many people will be watching us?

Vignette: All of them. What do you say? (Big grin; cut to Sunset’s end of the line.)

Sunset: Well, if it’s gonna help out Rarity…

(Applejack is the only one not to speak up immediately as the camera pans to her end in time with the others’ noises of agreement. Her only contribution is a skeptical scoff once they have gone silent. Vignette steps toward them, tapping her phone’s screen; the camera shifts to and from a close-up of it on the next line as she scrolls through profile information for all but Applejack.)

Vignette: Like, like, like, like, like, like. Upload and post it, ladies. (Valley Girl accent, with a wink and index-finger gun) This’ll trend for sure!

(Cut to an ecstatic Rarity standing ahead of a ticked-off Applejack.)

Vignette: (from o.s., normal voice) I’ll “at” you later with exact deets. (All eight; she pats Rarity’s shoulder.) BYBB, Rare. (walking off) V out.

(“Deets” = details. A blush paints a deep red tint onto the white cheeks as Rarity turns to the others.)

Rarity: (voice quivering slightly) I know! She’s amazing, right?

Applejack: (sourly) She sure is…somethin’.

Twilight: Logistical question. How are we supposed to get our instruments? (Cut to Rarity, who dismisses it with a sputter.)

Rarity: Vignette will handle everything. (Applejack’s hand rises into view.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) I got a question too. (Cut to her.) When you said she’s your best friend at the park, did you mean “best friend, comma, at the park”?

(She adds quotation marks with her fingers on the first “best friend.”)

Rarity: (surprised) Did I say that? (Gasp and smile.) Listen! Tonight’s a huge opportunity—and not just for me now, but for all of us! (Cut to the other six as she finishes.)

Rainbow: Let’s go see the park!

(As Twilight/Sunset and Fluttershy/Pinkie start to discuss their respective plans of attack and the latter two consult a map Pinkie digs out of her hair, Rainbow blurs away and back to join them. A scowl settles onto Rarity’s face as she crosses to a put-out Applejack and pats one T-shirted shoulder.)

Rarity: Honestly, I don’t know why you’re giving me your frowny eyebrows.

Applejack: (sighing, turning face away) It’s nothin’.

Rarity: (nervously, stroking hair) Uh…well, uh… (smiling) …enjoy the park!

(She paces away from the others, phone in hand.)

Rarity: I’m going to be super-busy preparing for tonight. So, let’s meet in the staging area for sound check and run-throughs. (Pocket it.) I have three minutes’ break at four o’clock and I can give you two of them. (Show two fingers.) BYBB! (Laugh; hurry away with a thumbs-up.) Rare out!

(Applejack reacts to this minor torrent of verbiage with a huffy sigh before Rainbow sidles up to her.)

Rainbow: Weeell…looks like Rarity doesn’t need us as much as you thought. Sooo…? (Pinkie tucks her map back into her hair.)

Fluttershy: Should we practice for the parade? It’s a little… (scared) …daunting, isn’t it? (Rainbow whips over to put arms around her shoulders and Pinkie’s.)

Rainbow: We know every song by heart.  Wouldn’t you rather go have some fun?

Pinkie, Rainbow: Yeah!

Twilight: Great idea!

[Animation goof: Rainbow’s mouth does not move on this last.]

(Five jolly teens disperse from the plaza, leaving their blond classmate to stew quietly where she stands; after a long moment, she plods off after them. Dissolve to a close-up of a stretch of roller coaster track as a train barrels past, then cut to a longer shot of it emerging from a cloud tunnel to accelerate down a hill. A longer shot picks out more of the turns and loops that the joyfully screaming passengers are seeing up close and personal, but a tilt down to ground level frames a softly moaning, shivering, scared-out-of her-wits Fluttershy from behind. The camera shifts to frame her and Rainbow watching the ride—the animal lover holding an unfolded map, the jock drinking a soda. Fluttershy’s fear evolves into a whimper and a huddle behind the paper as Rainbow keeps two eager red-violet eyes trained on the elevated attraction. The commotion forces both of them to raise their voices.)

Rainbow: PRETTY GREAT, RIGHT? (A little yelp from Fluttershy.)

Fluttershy: WHAAAT?

Rainbow: CAN YOU HEAR ME OVER ALL THE SCREAMING?

Fluttershy: I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER ALL THE SCREAMING!

(She moans and lifts the map to keep herself from seeing the midair mayhem as Rainbow grins at the prospect of being able to experience it for herself. By the time she lowers it, the noise level has abated sufficiently to allow normal speech.)

Fluttershy: I wish I’d gone with Sunset and Twilight, or Pinkie Pie, or…anyone else in the entire park.

Rainbow: Look at it this way. It’s the perfect opportunity to conquer your fear. (A train brakes to a stop at the loading platform.)

Fluttershy: (checking map) Can’t I conquer something a little smaller first? (Rainbow leans over to her.)

Rainbow: Hey, good idea! A warm-up before the big game! (eagerly, reading over her shoulder) Ooh, what did you have in mind?

(Close-up of the paper, the camera shifting from one location to the next as she names them.)

Rainbow: (from o.s.) Dragon Lands Drag Racing? Ooh, the Appleloosa Runaway Train! Ooh! Neighagara Falls Barrel Flume?

(Back to her and Fluttershy on the end of this line.)

Fluttershy: (shaking head) Mmm-mmm.

(A big grin splits the yellow face as she brings her finger to rest on a particular spot and the camera zooms in to a close-up. All too soon, though, her features shift into a look of wide-eyed terror, the background dissolving behind her to a new location; she is slowly rising up above the earth, and a scream tears its way out of her throat in due time. The camera zooms out quickly to show her and Rainbow riding side by side in the last car of a dragon-themed coaster whose other seats are occupied entirely by small children. She has put her map away and is hyperventilating to beat the band as the train eases its way over the top of a gentle hill, while Rainbow has ditched her soda and is steaming silently over having to get on a ride so completely free of thrills. Cut to the happy kids in the car ahead of them, and pan back to Fluttershy/Rainbow on the start of the next line.)

Fluttershy: Oh, these kids are so brave.

(Rainbow claps a hand to her face with a disgusted little groan. Dissolve to an overhead shot of the interior of one of the park’s workshop hangars, where a crew is building the base of a float. Applejack and Rainbow cross the floor toward it as the camera pans to them; in close-up, Applejack proves to be in a decent mood now as props and materials are carried back and forth.)

Rarity: Applejack, this parade is a living, breathing dance of light and sound.

(Three employees approach, carrying a feathered hat, bolt of fabric, and shirt.)

Rarity: (to each in order) Love it, lock it, stitch it.

(They clear out. Before she can address Applejack again, she is presented with four more items: the shirt, a pair of high-heeled shoes, a drawing of them and the previous hat juxtaposed with a pink-frosted donut, and the fabric.)

Rarity: (ditto) Beautiful…perfect…I just threw up…love it! (as they race off) Now hurry up! I need these done yesterday!

Applejack: You were born for this, Rarity. Anythin’ I can do to help?

Rarity: (touching Applejack’s shoulder) Play a great show tonight?

(Reassurance turns to rancor in the time it takes her to shift her gaze across the work area.)

Rarity: Excuse me! I know I am not seeing a lapped zipper on that faux fur!

(The object of her outburst proves to be an employee dressed in a full-body outfit styled as the natural Siren form of Adagio Dazzle, as seen in Rainbow Rocks and “Shadow Play.”However, the head fins are purple rather than the expected yellow-orange. A zipper runs down one side of the underbelly, stopping just above two protruding legs dressed in sweat pants and slippers to match the costume’s color scheme. The wearer throws a surprised glance to Rarity, then lets the head hang in shame.)

Rarity: A lapped zipper is simply a stuck zipper waiting to happen! (Groan; address Applejack.) This is what I’m up against. (She walks off.)

Applejack: (thumbing toward door) So, uh…want to take a break and go get a caramel apple?

(Across the floor, the designer is going over assorted details with scurrying employees.)

Rarity: (distractedly) I’d love to, darling, but I am a tad super-insanely busy. (Weak chuckle.)

Applejack: Of course. I-I just thought, uh…never mind. You’re right. I wouldn’t want to rain on your parade.

(This last puts a fright into Rarity.)

Rarity: Rain! I didn’t plan for rain! (shaking nearest employee’s shoulder) GET ME ONE HUNDRED PONCHOS, STAT!!

(The two dart off in opposite directions, leaving several puzzled coworkers and a downcast Applejack in their wake. Dissolve to a long shot of the big coaster as a train trundles its way toward the peak of the first hill. Even from this distance, the heads of pink and multicolored hair in the first car give away the presence of Fluttershy and Rainbow; cut to them—one scared stiff, one fully at ease.)

Rainbow: I’m proud of you. (patting Fluttershy’s shoulder; she grimaces mightily) You know that? You’re facing your fears head-on, just like I always did as a kid. (Fluttershy huddles into herself; Rainbow looks over the side.) I mean, look.

(On the start of the next line, cut to her perspective of the steadily receding ground.)

Rainbow: A four-hundred-foot vertical drop right into these loop-de-loops and a corkscrew?

(Back to her, a seed of real apprehension planting itself in her mind and causing her to sit all the way back in her seat.)

Rainbow: (forcing a grin) You’re probably super-nervous about that, I bet. Heh. (Close-up of the climbing wheels; she continues o.s.) And that next part where it goes backwards? (The pair again; now Fluttershy is trying not to vomit over the both of them.) Uh, how are you feeling, Fluttershy?

(Up and up they go toward the summit—now they are high enough to match the altitude of a passing seagull, the sight of which unhinges Rainbow even more.)

Rainbow: Is it even safe to be this high up? (Cut to Fluttershy; she continues o.s.) You’re probably thinking— (Long shot of the train.) —“Stop the ride! I want to get off!” (Cut to the pair, now at the top.) That’s what you want, right? Right now? You’re about to yell it? (completely freaked out) Stop the ride! Seriously! Please, somebody stop the ride! STOP THE RIIIIDE!!

(But her frantic entreaties have no effect once gravity takes hold and the train plunges down its track. Cut to the loading platform, where it pulls in to a stop and the two girls’ mindsets have completely reversed—a bright grin on Fluttershy’s face, brain-locked panic and terror on Rainbow’s. The erstwhile daredevil remains rooted to her seat as all the other passengers climb out, and it takes a bit of assistance from a ride attendant to coax her up to the platform. She groans weakly and follows Fluttershy out on legs that might be full of Zap Apple jam for all the wobbling that has set in.)

Fluttershy: That was actually kind of…fun! (Giggle.)

Rainbow: (forced casual tone) Totally! That’s why I didn’t want to get off. I was just seeing what you would have said. Heh. (Cut to Fluttershy; she continues o.s.) That’s all.

(The timid teen offers a gentle smile and a pat on the shoulder.)

Fluttershy: You were very brave.

Rainbow: (blushing) Heh…you too, by the way.

(The reassurance has not quite made it from ear to brain to muscles, if her jittery steps and face-first tumble to the ground are any indication. Fluttershy just giggles softly to herself at this very strange reversal of fortune, but is interrupted by the ringing of her phone; she pulls it out and studies the screen with a degree of bafflement.)

Fluttershy: Hmmm…

(Dissolve to a slow pan through an open area lined with circus tents. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, poring over a map and sharing cotton candy, are among the park-goers here; Bloom has cleaned up and put on her boots following the applesauce-making session in Act One. Applejack ambles past with a copy of her own, grumbling to herself and turning it this way and that to try and get her bearings; finally she gives up and crumples it into a ball. As she tucks it away behind her back, a familiar, geeky male voice cuts in to her surprise.)

Micro Chips: (from o.s., calling out) Apples!

(The visitors immediately ahead of Applejack part to give a clear view of a snack stand at which the techie is selling…)

Micro: Caramel apples over here! We got red and green and everything in between!

(His clothing has changed noticeably from past appearances. Light green shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a pattern of red apples; red bow tie; green pants and suspenders.)

Applejack: (crossing to him) Micro Chips?

Micro: (offering an apple on a stick) Caramel apple?

Applejack: Uh…Applejack. You’re who they hired to be the caramel apple…girl?

Micro: Vignette said she wanted cool nerd chic. I’d say she found it, wouldn’t you?

(He casually dips the fruit into a waiting tub of melted caramel and pulls it out, only to find that a semi-solidified runnel of the brown stuff has no intention of letting it go without a fight. A sustained pull snaps it loose, but he stumbles backward and into a rack of other caramel apples, leaving one stuck to his sleeve.)

Micro: Ow.

(Cut to Applejack, who cringes at the sound of a protracted series of grunts and yelps and squishes from Micro’s general direction, then back to him. The hapless hawker has ended up with a good half-dozen apples stuck all over his head and upper body, the one that started the whole mess still in one hand, and liberal applications of runaway caramel spattering his head and trapping his arms at most uncomfortable angles.)

Micro: (clearing throat, trying to pull free) Do you by any chance have a knife, or samurai sword, or several tiny but very sharp nail clippers?

(Cut to Applejack, too stunned by this display of fruit-based incompetence to do more than stare at him as Fluttershy and Vignette pass behind her, both having stowed their phones. A few indistinct words are heard from the budding media mogul—she evidently called Fluttershy to set up a meeting—and Applejack begins to pivot toward them as the o.s. Micro pulls one apple into view toward her with a grunt. From here, cut to Fluttershy and Vignette walking past the entrance to a candy-themed attraction.)

Vignette: I know what you’re thinking. (dramatically) “But, Vignette, how can I ever thank you for coming up with such a brilliant idea for the parade?”

Fluttershy: Uh, I don’t understand. You want me to pretend I’m someone else tonight? (Both stop.)

Vignette: (arm across Fluttershy’s shoulders, cupping her cheeks) Everyone in the band has a new role. It’s part of my bold new vision. All caps, Helvetica sixty-five. Fluttershy—bad girl.

(Cut to Fluttershy, who reacts to this pronouncement with great worry, then back on the next line, Vignette now checking her phone.)

Vignette: Spiked hair, ripped tights, I’ve already commissioned an A-list graffiti-slash-sneaker artist to tag up a custom guitar. How do you feel about skulls?

(The yellow girl’s mental machinery grinds to a smoking halt.)

Vignette: (over-enunciating every letter) BYBB.

Fluttershy: Uh, maybe I, um… (backing off a step) …shouldn’t do it. (whispering) At all.

(Vignette shoots her a quizzical look, then fiddles with her phone again, and comes up with a calculating little smile.)

Vignette: You’re right. (crossing to her) If collabbing isn’t your thing, that’s your life decision to make. (touching Fluttershy’s shoulder) But I just thought of a way for us both to get exactly what we want.

Fluttershy: (smiling) You did?

Vignette: Of course! Getting what I want is what I do best, sweetie. (raising phone) Now say cheese!

(Cut to her perspective on this last word, the device aimed at Fluttershy to frame her image on the screen. One thumb tap later, the view shifts to frame both in profile as a beam envelops Fluttershy and vacuums her into the phone to leave no trace behind.)

Vignette: Sorry, Fluttershy. (pocketing phone) You’ll thank me later.

(She walks away. Cut to somewhere within a featureless white expanse and tilt down to frame a justifiably rattled Fluttershy standing on its best approximation of a floor.)

*** Until further notice, an asterisk (*) on any lines spoken in this space indicates a hollow echo. ***

* Fluttershy: Um…excuse me? Vignette?

(She begins to walk, the camera shifting to frame her from the knees up and picking out the right-angle edges of walls and a not-too-high ceiling behind her.)

* Fluttershy: Where am I?

(The sound of something clattering underfoot brings her up short with a yelp and nearly causes her to trip. Looking down toward her feet, she finds a bowl of salad resting before her—the same one Vignette digitally wiped out with her phone in Act One.)

* Fluttershy: (voice raised) And do you mind if I eat this salad? (She kneels down next to it and continues at normal volume.) I’m feeling stressed.

(Zoom out slowly and fade to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to a slow pan along a midway lined with carnival game booths. Twilight and Sunset approach a ring-toss game manned by the Flim Flam Brothers, whose last appearance on this side of the mirror occurred during the short “A Case for the Bass.” Small metal hoops or rings are laid out on the booth’s counter in groups of three, rows of jugs or bottles stand behind the two hucksters, and the side walls are hung with pennants and stuffed-toy prizes.)

Flim: Step right up! Don’t be shy! (Cut to the two girls, who stop.)

Flam: (from o.s.) Do you like prizes? (Twilight hurries over.) We got prizes!

(The booth again; she steps to the counter.)

Flim: (holding up a ring) Toss this ring onto any one of these bottles. (twirling it on a finger) Easiest game in the park!

(He tosses it over his shoulder so that it clatters neatly down around the neck of one bottle.)

Twilight: Wow! This game does look easy!

Flim: (to Flam) Would you looky here! Somebody who knows a thing or two about a thing or two!

(The budding scientist withdraws some tickets from her pocket and makes to hand them over, but Sunset stops her with a mildly annoyed sigh.)

Sunset: Twilight… (turning her away from booth; close-up) …they’re just giving you the old bump-and-tingle to lure you in. These games are rigged.

(Zoom out quickly to frame the brothers, both of whom react as if accused of murder.)

Flim: Slanderous!

Flam: Libelous!

Twilight: (to Sunset, adjusting glasses) Do you know what’s not rigged? The laws of physics. (rapid fire) Assuming no air resistance and a vertical displacement of zero, horizontal displacement equals initial projectile velocity squared times the sine of twice the launch angle, divided by the acceleration due to gravity.

(Whether the dumbfounded look on Sunset’s face is due to getting lost in her friend’s high-speed explanation, or realizing that she has it dead right and can reel it off at will, may never be known. Both girls turn toward the booth, Twilight confidently handing her tickets to Flim and picking up one ring from a set of three. After a long moment’s deliberation and aiming, she lets fly and it drops neatly onto one bottleneck, the momentum causing it to spin in place for some seconds.)

Flim: Oh, the suspense!

Flam: The drama!

Flim: (covering eyes, but peeking through fingers) I can’t watch!

Flam: (small voice) Hold me!

(They clutch at each other in a shuddering, overdone show of fear…the ring continues to whirl and rattle in place…Sunset begins to smile with Twilight, drawing a tiny little gasp at the impending victory…and then the ring pops off the bottle as if it had been spring-loaded, prompting a frustrated groan from Twilight.)

Sunset: You were pretty close, though. (patting her shoulder, offering more tickets) Maybe we should try one more time?

(Both of them completely miss the shrewd smiles that pass between the brothers’ faces—they have just found their newest mark. Dissolve to a long shot of a hangar as Applejack approaches, then cut to a close-up of its side door as she opens it for a look inside. Work on the parade floats continues apace, while Rarity puts the final touches on a cowboy outfit worn by a male employee. An electrical cord runs out from the belt.)

Rarity: Finished!

(Wiping her forehead with a relieved sigh, she picks up the plugs at the ends of both this cord and a second one.)

Rarity: Let there be light!

(The plugs are connected, causing a plethora of small yellow bulbs on the shirt, pants, and hat to illuminate; a couple of nearby workers stop to marvel at the display.)

Rarity: (sighing happily, dropping plugs) Maybe tonight won’t be a disaster after all.

(The high-wattage costume chooses this very moment to short out in a crackle of sparks and a drift of black smoke tendrils. Rarity’s face stretches into a broad, fixed grin as her pupils/irises contract to crazed points and one eye begins to twitch uncontrollably. Her model removes his hat and uses it to beat out the smoldering spots.)

Rarity: (pacing floor) Will you, uh, excuse me for a moment?

(She has regained her placidity by the time she stops next to a large pile of castoff clothing—and then she utterly abandons all pretense by throwing herself onto it face-first. The nearest workers bug out once she finds her voice.)

Rarity: (muffled, kicking/pounding at pile) ABSOLUTELY OUTLANDISH PUTTING THESE THINGS IN THE UNIVERSE, AND WHY ARE ALL OF THE WRETCHED THINGS HAPPENING TO ME?!?!?

(Cut to Applejack, who stops short in her trip through the hangar.)

Applejack: Huh?

(Turning off to one side with a smile, she finds her friend wallowing in the mess of garments.)

Applejack: Hey, Rarity. How’s it g— (Rarity sits up abruptly.)

Rarity: (rapid fire) I wasn’t having a meltdown. (standing up) Who said I was having a meltdown? (savagely) I AM NOT HAVING A MELTDOWN!!

Applejack: (a bit scared) Whoa. Uh, have you seen Fluttershy? (Rarity straightens her hem.) See, she went wanderin’ off with Vignette and then just disappeared.

Rarity: (scowling) Are you honestly asking me this right now?

Applejack: Oh, it’s not that I don’t trust Vignette, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.

Rarity: We’re in a giant fun park with fifty thousand people. ’Course you can’t find her. (Gasp; suddenly she is all nerves again.) Fifty thousand people… (Louder gasp.) …all looking at my costumes!

Applejack: Are you seriously not concerned about Fluttershy?

Rarity: (pushing her back) That’s a hundred thousand individual eyeballs, Applejack.

Applejack: (needled) Well, if you ain’t gonna worry about her, I will!

(She wastes no time in quitting the area, leaving the thunderstruck designer to recover her wits on her own. This takes a few seconds.)

Rarity: SOMEBODY GET ME A BIGGER PILE OF CLOTHES TO SCREAM INTO!!

(Two more double armloads are swiftly dumped onto the heap. Dissolve to a close-up of a few of the bottles at the ring-toss game; a ring sails into view, clanks down around one neck, and settles to a dead stop before popping away. Zoom out and pan slightly to follow its trajectory past a grimacing Twilight and Sunset, the former clutching a notebook.)

Sunset: COME ON!!

(She goes face-first on the counter as the brainiac groans and scribbles furiously across a page. Flim and Flam, meanwhile, exchange knowing little grunts as Flam scoops up a vast pile of tickets—the result of multiple failed attempts to beat this game, no doubt. The yellow-orange girl raises her head slowly, blue-green eyes glaring with enough intensity to punch a hole through bulletproof glass.)

Sunset: All right, what’s next? (standing up) What are we doing? How are we going to win this?!?

(One last bit of figuring, and Twilight smugly holds her notebook aloft for the brothers to see.)

Twilight: Guess who just mapped out a perfect projectile trajectory, taking into account propulsion, gravity, and aerodynamic drag! (pointing to herself with her pen) This gal. (leaning on counter) Bet you thought I forgot about friction, air drag, and varying initial velocities. Well, guess what? (standing, laying notebook down) I didn’t.

Sunset: What she said! (Twilight holds up some tickets.)

Flim: (slyly, to Flam) You know what they say…

Flam: (as Flim takes them) …hundredth time’s the charm.

(Sunset picks up a ring and lets Twilight adjust the position of her arms based on a lightning-fast round of mental calculations and reckoning by eye. Once satisfied, the egghead backs up with a big grin and a double thumbs-up, and Sunset pulls back to deliver what must surely be a winning throw—right before Applejack pokes her head into view behind them.)

Applejack: Howdy, y’all!

(Spooked by the farmer’s unexpected arrival, Sunset hurls her ring off to one side in a random direction. It ricochets off the bell at the top of a “high striker” game, then the nose of a squeaky giraffe doll in a different game booth, and comes to rest after reducing a banana split to mush on a table and liberally dousing a boy who had been about to dig into it with his mother.)

Twilight, Sunset: Applejack!

Applejack: Oh! (Sheepish laugh.) Sorry. Have you seen Fluttershy? Nobody’s seen her all afternoon. Her phone’s goin’ straight to voice mail. I keep thinkin’ somethin’ real bad mighta happened. (Twilight writes in her notebook.)

Sunset: (smiling) Lighten up, Applejack. There’s not always a villain with Equestrian magic out to get us.

Twilight: On a side note, do you have tickets we could borrow? Kinda used ’em all.

(The camera pans slightly away from the trio to frame Flim, Flam, and the waist-high pile now standing between them. The red-haired barkers whistle innocently as Flam tries to push their take out of sight with a foot. Applejack rolls her eyes with the clearest disgust for her friends’ gullibility and the brothers’ utter lack of moral scruples, but still offers up a string that Sunset is only too eager to take.)

Sunset: (icily) I don’t like to lose.

(Cut to a long shot of the park’s main roller coaster, then to one train hurtling down a hill, then to a close-up of a sweating, scared-silly Rainbow staring up at the whole affair. She is only too relieved to notice the approach of…)

Rainbow: Applejack! Hey! I was just about to ride this thing for, like— (laughing) —the tenth time already.

(A younger girl, who has been standing nearby and witnessing the silent freak-out, coughs loudly to get her attention.)

Rainbow: (to her, whispering) Shhhh! Nothing outta you! (The youth gives her a dirty look and departs.)

Applejack: Uh, have you seen Fluttershy anywhere?

Rainbow: Oh, she was with me. Super-scared of this ride. But I think she went off with Vignette.

Applejack: (walking off) Okay. Thanks.

Rainbow: (calling after her) If you see her, tell her she still owes me a roller coaster ride!

(Only after the apple expert is well out of earshot does she allow herself an unnerved little shudder at the train that has just blasted by. Dissolve to a long shot of a bumper-car arena and zoom in as Applejack walks toward the entrance while studying her map. The view shifts to her perspective of the document just before a loud whistle interrupts her concentration and a pink hand reaches up from behind to yank it down. The face of Pinkie is now exposed, an oversized green cap with lighter polka dots and an orange bill nestled atop the magenta curls. A darker green ribbon dangles from somewhere near the crown.)

Pinkie: No frowning allowed!

(Applejack pulls the map away to give herself a view of her friend from the waist up. Short-sleeved, button-down shirt, one side yellow and the other same green as her cap, with white polka dots on both. The collar and front trim on the green side are the same shade as her hair, as is the trim on the yellow sleeve; the yellow side has orange collar/front trim to match that on the green sleeve. The garment bears multiple dark stains and has a half-eaten lollipop stuck to one shoulder, and a glittery, ribbon-marked badge of a yellow star has been pinned on. A longer shot picks out the equally unwashed, white-belted jeans she has donned, with a slice of pizza adhering to one leg, and the white sneakers on her feet. Her cap bears a decoration along the same lines as the badge, and she is not wearing her pendant.)

Pinkie: (officiously, crumpling map and throwing it away) Hmmm…as Fun Inspector, I’m a little concerned about what I’m seeing here.

Applejack: Pinkie Pie? Don’t tell me you’re workin’ for the park now, too!

Pinkie: (laughing) No, silly! Fun Inspectors are free-lance, and don’t get paid, and totally made up by me earlier today when I saw a little girl crying because she dropped her ice cream and I said to myself, “Pinkie Pie, this place isn’t as fun as it could be!” (showing off her clothes) Do you like the uniform? I made it out of things I found in the trash, but you can’t even tell.

(She pulls the lollipop free and prepares to put her tongue to work on it. Applejack can do no more at first than sputter at this total disregard for food hygiene, but she gets herself under control just in time to confiscate the befouled treat.)

Applejack: So, have you seen Fluttershy anywhere?

Pinkie: Nope, but I have seen my Deputy Fun Inspector.

(On the end of this, cut to a close-up of Applejack’s shirt as she reaches into view to pin on a badge matching hers.)

Pinkie: (arm around Applejack’s shoulders) Ta-da! Now you have all access to the entire park… (slyly, pulling a fresh sucker from her hair) …Deputy Fun Inspector.

(After one hearty lick, she offers it to Applejack with a wink; the newly deputized teen just grimaces at this second flouting of who knows how many health and safety rules. Dissolve to the ranks of bottles in the ring-toss booth, one throw bouncing away, another rattling around a neck and then springing off, then a hailstorm of hoops clattering uselessly in all directions. Zoom out to frame Flim and Flam, now—incredible as it may seem—actually growing weary of the flurry of failures.)

Flim: Ugh…wow.

Flam: So close.

(Cut to Twilight and Sunset still at the counter, hair askew as they stare in mute disbelief at just how far a good grasp of physics has not gotten them in their game. Sunset groans softly as they turn their backs, Twilight holding her notebook and Sunset showing bandages on all her fingers, and they crumple to the ground with a double moan.)

Sunset: (hoarsely) I can’t feel my fingers anymore.

(Her brainiac buddy flips pages, arriving at one full of squiggles and question marks that faces a second decorated with a stick-figure drawing of the two holding a stuffed bird triumphantly aloft.)

Twilight: (woozily) It all looks the same. (adjusting glasses) Is this real life? How long have we been here?

(Flim and Flam move toward the counter with great trepidation, Flam holding the very toy from the drawing—of considerable size, no less.)

Flim: Um, hey, listen, lady.

Flam: Uh, how about you just take a parakeet and go home? (Sunset shoots to her feet and faces them with a savage grimace.)

Sunset: (knocking toy aside) It’s not about the parakeet!

(It lands neatly in the arms of the boy whose banana split was ruined a short while ago, instantly cheering both him and his mother up as they walk among the booths. He has cleaned the ice cream off himself.)

Boy: (gratefully) Awww…

(Sunset snatches up the nearest ring and prepares to let fly, but Twilight stands up and touches the opposite shoulder to rein her in. The dark blue ponytail is back in order now.)

Twilight: You said it yourself. It’s rigged. How about we get some ice cream? (Both put their backs to the booth.)

Sunset: (sighing, calming down) You’re right. (smiling) Why didn’t I listen to myself? (walking away, face falling) We never even had a chance.

(The metal hoop is tossed carelessly backward, the action shifting to slow motion for the time it takes to arc through the empty space between the counter and the bottles. Normal speed resumes as it plunks down around one neck—and stays there. Flim and Flam boggle at the dead-solid-perfect throw, and Flim needs a moment to shift his half-laugh/half-shout of total shock into a confident smile and address the passersby.)

Flim: Well, would you look at that!

Flam: A winner every time!

(One teen steps up to have a turn as the view dissolves to a close-up of a discomfited Applejack.)

Applejack: (scratching head) Or maybe I want her to be my prime suspect because she’s Rarity’s new best friend at the park. Am I goin’ crazy over a whole lotta nothin’?

Old man’s voice: (annoyed) What’s that badge you got there?

(On the end of this line, zoom out to frame her sitting alone on a bench and the speaker—a uniformed, elderly security guard—glaring and pointing at her new accessory from close range. Cut to her.)

Applejack: (flustered) I…uh…uh, y-you see, it—it’s just—

Guard: (from o.s.) It’s a crime to fake security badges, you know! (She recoils in fear; cut to frame both.) I’m a fake cop, but I can send you to real jail! (He holds out a hand as she stands up.)

Applejack: (sighing, removing/handing over badge) If you’ll just let me explain, I-I’m lookin’ for my friend, and—

Guard: Shh! Hands on your head! No sudden moves! Got that?

(She follows instructions as he scrutinizes the badge—and is not at all prepared to hear a surprised little whoop.)

Guard: (smiling) Why didn’t you tell me you were a Deputy Fun Inspector?

(The green eyes flick between his face and the item, the brain behind them completely unable to find any logic here. Dissolve to the interior of a room, the camera pointed toward a closed door that opens to admit the guard.)

Guard: I am so sorry about that, ma’am. (Applejack follows him in, wearing her badge again.) Uh, h-h-here’s my workstation.

(Longer shot of the room, his office: desk, bulletin board, map of the park, file cabinets and boxes, computer system with a bank of monitors and a desk microphone. A few snarls of radio chatter are heard in the background.)

Guard: It hasn’t been fun-inspected in years.

Applejack: (impatiently, pinching bridge of nose) I’m tryin’ to tell you, my friend made this badge! It ain’t real!

Guard: (knowingly) Oh! An undercover Fun Inspector! I get it. (He adjusts his cap.) Anyway, have fun not inspecting my workstation. Wink, wink.

(He adds finger quotation marks on “not inspecting,” winks exaggeratedly on his last two words, then heads out past her after he has finished.)

Applejack: How many times do I have to say it?

(Having stopped at the door, he winks and puts a thumb to the side of his nose before exiting and pulling it shut. The thoroughly confused Applejack turns to the monitors, but she is all business by the time she has sat in the chair and rolled over to the keyboard. Eyes flick from one screen another and settle on Rainbow and Vignette walking together outside one of the hangars. Zoom in on this view and dissolve to the actual scene, Vignette gesturing idly with phone in hand.)

Vignette: Rarity told me you’re the coolest, smartest friend who knows what’s the opposite of down. (hushed; both stop) What’s up?

Rainbow: Heh. True.

Vignette: I have a bold new vision for the Rainbooms that you are going to love.

(Cut to a mildly befuddled Rainbow, then back to Vignette on the start of the nest line.)

Vignette: The Throwbacks! Capital T, hashtag “TBT,” Throwback Today,” or for short, TCTHTBT-bracket-TBT, pronounced “ta-ka-ta-ka-ba-ta.” You are going to represent the touchstones of cool throughout the ages.

Rainbow: (smiling) I like it so far, and I assume I’ll like what you say next. (Vignette throws an arm around her shoulders.)

Vignette: (gesturing expansively) Rainbow Dash—fifties sock-hop sweetheart! (Puzzlement, then vexation on the blue face.) Poodle skirt, adorable blond hair— (mussing her hair) —how do you feel about shaving your head? I only ask because you’ll definitely have to do it for the wig.

Rainbow: Uh…there is no way anyone is shaving my head.

(As she pats the vivid tresses back in place, Vignette shoots her a venomous look that jumps to a shrewd little smile.)

Vignette: BYBB?

Rainbow: BIAATB. “But I Already Am the Best”?

Vignette: (scowling, pacing) Well, if you insist on just— (Contemptuous sigh.) —being yourself or whatever— (smiling, raising phone) —then at least let me take a picture of the real you.

(The ensuing camera click gives Rainbow just enough time to register sudden confusion just before her entire figure goes monochrome and is wiped off the screen. Applejack, in the security guard’s office, has kept her eyes riveted on this particular surveillance video feed; she pulls in a lung-bursting gasp.)

Applejack: Is Vignette zappin’ my friends with a magical phone? (pounding desk) I know [sic] she was up to somethin’! (Scoff.) Just wasn’t expectin’ somethin’ so magic and evil. She makes ’em disappear—but where do they go?

(Fade to white, then in to the near-featureless void in which Fluttershy found herself at the end of Act Two. Rainbow materializes a few inches above the floor and touches down on her feet, full color returning, and the camera zooms out to frame Fluttershy sitting huddled on the floor behind Vignette’s salad.)

* Rainbow: Aw, man! Are we trapped in a magical phone? (Pause; Fluttershy nods.) Typical. (Another.) You gonna eat that stress salad?

(Snap to black.)

Act Four

(Opening shot: fade in to the interior of the hangar. Rarity, Vignette, and other workers are doing a final check on several completed floats.)

Rarity: One hour until wheels up, everyone! (signing a document on an offered clipboard) The light parade waits for no one! (clapping) Tick-tock, tick-tock!

Vignette: Big night tonight, Rare, perhaps the biggest of all time. Definitely the biggest of your life. I’m excited for you. (Wink.)

Rarity: (slowly losing her cool) You’re not worried? Not that I’m worried, unless you’re worried, in which case I’m very, very worried!

Vignette: (arm across Rarity’s shoulders) There’s no room for self-doubt. You’ve got to get rid of it faster than a pleated cargo skort.

(The very idea is enough to make them both shudder audibly for a moment.)

Vignette: (pacing, barely pausing between sentences) So I love everything you’ve done here. (fingering a dress on a dummy) One thought—do we want the costumes to have lights on them? You’ve got time. I think we should start from scratch.

Rarity: Huh?

Vignette: (very giddy, patting Rarity’s shoulder, ruffling her hair) BT-dubs, every amazing fashion vlogger and Snapgab celeb is gonna be here tonight! No presh.

(“BT-dubs” = a shorter alternative for “BTW,” itself short for “by the way”; “presh” = short for “pressure.” Vignette walks off, casually tapping at her phone and leaving an utterly gobsmacked designer in her wake.)

Rarity: (small voice) Really? ’Cause I’m feeling presh.

(She snaps angrily back to herself with a glance across the hangar, her hair shifting back into place.)

Rarity: Why am I seeing neon pink and yellow on that dragon’s tail? Is this a beast of legend or a safety vest?!

(She indulges her pique with a scowling slump as the view wipes to a cloud-themed float that has been rigged with spotlights to serve as a performance stage for the Rainbooms. Twilight, Pinkie, and Sunset are consulting with other members of the design team, with Applejack’s bass guitar, Pinkie’s drum kit, and Rainbow’s guitar visible behind them. Sunset has now fixed her hair and shed the bandages from the ring-toss debacle of Act Three. Pinkie has trader her makeshift “Fun Inspector” outfit for her usual threads and donned her pendant. She giggles over the crew’s attention as Rarity shoots a withering look up at the four-string and voices an exasperated sigh.)

Rarity: I suppose Applejack has better things to do than final fittings and sound check!

Sunset: Don’t be mad at her. She’s still out trying to find Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy— (pointedly) —who aren’t here either, by the way.

Rarity: Do not tell me who to be annoyed with!

(Uneasy looks pass between the three on the float, but Pinkie is quick to shift into a reassuring grin and jump down.)

Pinkie: I know you’re stressed, Rarity— (pulling Rarity’s arms up/down, peeking under/around them) —but I’m sure you’ve got something totally amazing up your sleeve. You did remember to wear sleeves with amazing things up them, right?

(She has, of course, ignored the fact that Rarity’s dress leaves her arms completely bare.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) STOOOOP!!

(A round of gasps from the o.s. employees; cut to them. They back off to either side, exposing her at the roll-up door, and eye her intently during a long silence. She is no longer wearing the badge Pinkie gave her.)

Applejack: Oh! Uh, not everybody stop. I just meant my friends. (walking in) Y’all keep doin’ what you’re doin’… (All zip away to get back on task.) …sewin’ up them, uh, clothes.

(On the next line, cut to Pinkie and Rarity as Applejack approaches.)

Rarity: Where have you been?! (Vignette can be seen through an office window, using her phone.)

Applejack: Nobody go anywhere with Vignette, understand?

(As she speaks, the woman in question throws her a furtive look and pulls down a shade to hide herself from view. The next two lines overlap.)

Sunset: Not really.

Twilight: Nope.

Pinkie: Nuh-uh.  

(Inside the office, Vignette turns worriedly from the shade and glances across the room. The sight of a phone undergoing a battery charge on a desk brings a devilish smile to her face. Back to Applejack and Rarity.)

Rarity: (brusquely shifting Applejack’s position) You can explain yourself after the parade. I’m sure—

Applejack: No, Rarity. Vignette is evil!

(Right on cue, Vignette steps out of the office and pulls the door shut; Pinkie hangs down into view from the ceiling to address Applejack.)

Pinkie: (whispering loudly) Applejack, she can hear you! (Up, up and away with her.)

Applejack: (moving toward Vignette; Rarity briefly tries to pull her back) She’s done somethin’ to Fluttershy, and I saw her from the security office when she made Rainbow Dash disappear with her phone!

(Cut to the other four girls, dismay embossing itself clearly on every face, and then back to Applejack/Vignette during the next line. This shot is close enough to frame the switcheroo that Vignette has pulled off with the spare phone.)

Applejack: Ten eggs and a chicken coop says it’s Equestrian magic!

Vignette: Oh, honey, delusional isn’t your color. (tugging briefly at Applejack’s bangs) You’re an autumn.

Applejack: If you’re so innocent— (Swipe the phone.) —then how do you explain this?!? (snapping pictures of dress on dummy) Say goodbye to your mannequin thingie!

(The quick sequence of flashes has no discernible effect on either the garment or its support. A cut to Applejack’s perspective underscores the mundane nature of the phone as she takes one more shot, pulls it aside to see the dress still there, and tries in vain to swipe this last picture out of sight. Cut to the three; she keeps the device aimed at the dress.)

Applejack: Uh…hang on! Watch it… (waving arms) …disappear!

(Its utter failure to do so causes her to deflate where she stands and Rarity to turn away with an expression of unmitigated disgust.)

Applejack: Uh…I think I hash-gabbed my snap-tag or all in the… (Growl; shake the phone.) …I can’t figure out these new-fandangled apps! (A half-choked noise of fright, complete with blush.) I sound just like Granny Smith!

Vignette: (plucking it away) I just saw your friends. They’re in Wardrobe and they’re fine.

(Ending up next to Rarity, she snaps a selfie with the young designer that sets Applejack steaming all over again.)

Rarity: Are you sure?

Vignette: (playfully stroking Rarity’s cheek) And looking good in your costumes, by the way.

(Now the white cheeks tint over a grateful smile, but the mood breaks as Applejack crosses to confront her.)

Rarity: Applejack, the parade is less than an hour away, a—

Applejack: This is bigger than the parade, Rarity!

Rarity: Nothing’s bigger than the parade, Applejack! (A long, knife-edged pause.)

Applejack: (really offended) I know you didn’t just say that about your missing friends!

Vignette: (walking off between them) I’m gonna let you two sort this out amongst yourselves.

(An imperious snap and flapping hand sends the rest of the team running for either cover or something to do.)

Rarity: Applejack, admit it! You don’t care about my parade!

Applejack: “My parade”?!? This isn’t about you! She’s done somethin’ to our friends!

Rarity: Is this about our friends or about you and Vignette? Ever since she gave me this opportunity, you’ve been jealous because she sees my potential but she didn’t hire you!

Twilight: You guys, stop!

Sunset: This isn’t like you!

Applejack: You’re so blind, you can’t even see she’s usin’ you! You only like her because she’s always blowin’ smoke up your chimney! (advancing on Rarity) But that’s what she does to everyone! You’re not special!

(The full impact of what she has just said takes a few seconds to register in her mind, and her features rearrange into an expression of muted horror. She has indeed gone a step too far, and the silent animosity radiating from Rarity’s form would surely burn the blonde to ash if a stray spark were present.)

Applejack: (softly, turning from her) Maybe I should just go.

Rarity: Maybe you should.

(Applejack trudges away, not seeing the tears that start to gather in the wounded blue eyes.)

Sunset: (calling across floor) Applejack, wait! (Rarity runs sobbing for the office.)

Pinkie: Rarity!

(By the time she, Twilight, and Sunset hit the floor to give chase, Rarity has already shut the door behind herself and Vignette has returned.)

Vignette: Waiting is for waiters, ladies. We’re better off without her. (She turns Pinkie around and puts an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.)

Twilight: (puzzled) “We”?

Vignette: (raising her own phone in her free hand) The Throwbacks, formerly known as the Rainbooms.

(A finger pokes at the end of the pink nose sparks all three girls’ faces to harden with instant distrust.)

Sunset: Hang on. (She pulls Pinkie away.) Why does “we” include you?

Vignette: Obviously somebody needs to fill Apple Juice’s spot. (twirling away from them) And since it’s so last-minute, we are lucky to have someone with as much vision and talent as, well…

Pinkie: Uh…you?

Vignette: And not just that, but we’ll be playing a song I wrote.

Sunset: Okay. One, you are not in the band. And two, we are not performing without Applejack. (Twilight nods firmly.)

Pinkie: Which is her name, by the way, not Apple Juice!

Twilight: And you know what? She’s not usually one to make things up, like…ever.

Sunset: So all that stuff she said about you…

Vignette: (casually, fluffing hair) Eh, is true.

(Before the trio can complete a full step toward her, she has fired off a wide-angle beam from her phone’s camera and sucked them all into it.)

Vignette: Now let’s see if this Equestrian magique is all it’s cracked up to be.

(The screen now displays Sunset’s image alongside a range of hair/clothing options, and a few taps/swipes turn her into a princess complete with bouffant, tiara, and exaggeratedly extravagant gown.)

Vignette: Now, then. (Tap.) That’s better.

(A bit more finger work projects still-life holograms of the five missing girls onto the stage, their colors slightly washed out and their personal styles radically overhauled. In order of appearance: Fluttershy as a punk/metal guitarist; Rainbow as a 1950s-era teenybopper with her guitar in hand; Twilight as a rapper, her glasses gone; Sunset in the princess getup and with her guitar; Pinkie behind the drums and wearing a dark business suit and no tie, her hair straightened and tied back.)

Vignette: (enraptured) I wish I’d had this thing years ago! (Rarity emerges from the office with a sigh.) Think how perfect my life could have looked!

(The purple-haired teen has barely shut the door and started walking off before the boss accosts her.)

Vignette: (giddily, pulling her close) Oh! Rare, you’re not gonna believe this!

(Cut to a slow pan across the stage full of ersatz musicians.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) What? What is this? (stepping into view) What am I looking at?

Vignette: Your friends, but better! Now we can make the parade exactly how I want it.

Rarity: (skeptically, backing off) How you want it? You said you hired me for my vision!

Vignette: Well, I needed your vision to bring out my vision. But now there’s an app for that.

(Now good and scared, the fashionista runs a set of fingers across one of the fake Fluttershy’s shins, causing the image to flicker and stutter.)

Rarity: Vignette, wh-what is going on here? Where are my friends?

Vignette: (Valley Girl accent) Like, trapped in the Internet as zeroes and ones, or erased from existence, or something?

(She finishes the thought with a shrug and an “I don’t know” grunt, both of which put Rarity even more on edge.)

Rarity: What?! 

Vignette: See, like, my phone became magique or something, and now it has this power where whenever I take a picture of something and it disappears [sic]. (pacing, increasingly animated) And then I can customize them with a swipe of my finger and make them real again—or real enough. But hey, blah-blah-blah, OMG, I’m boring myself to death just talking about this stuff.

(“OMG” = “oh my gosh.” Cut to Rarity on the end of this, her dander well and truly up.)

Rarity: Bring back my friends this instant!

Vignette: Fine. If you want to be with them so bad— (fiddling with phone) —I’ll do you one last favor. (aiming camera at Rarity) You’re welcome.

(Cut to her perspective, the teen framed on the screen. She has just enough time for one panicked cry before a tap sets off the camera and its flash whites out the view. Snap to black.)

Act Five

(Opening shot: snap to the upper reaches of the featureless white room that has become a prison for Twilight, Fluttershy, and Rainbow. Tilt down to frame a seated Twilight and a standing Rainbow.)

* Twilight: (groaning) I can’t believe we’re trapped in Vignette’s phone!

* Rainbow: We’re no strangers to getting stuck in magical objects.

(A reference to the shenanigans of “Mirror Magic.” Cut to a longer shot, framing all three previous captives and two new ones—Fluttershy and Twilight seated on either side of Rainbow, Pinkie and Sunset standing. Pinkie is looking happily off in a different direction from the others, and Vignette’s salad is still in its bowl on the floor.)

* Sunset: At least Rarity and Applejack are still free. (Pinkie registers mild confusion.) Maybe they can get us outta here.

* Fluttershy: They have to stop fighting first.

* Twilight: (standing up) We can’t just sit around hoping to get rescued. (winking) If we’re in the Internet, we can hack our way out! (Pause.) Well, I can. (Another; she deflates slightly.) Maybe. (Fluttershy is now on her feet.)

* Fluttershy: Oh, I hope Rarity and Applejack are okay. I wish we knew what’s going on out there.

(Eyes turn toward the ceiling, the camera tilting up to follow. The screen flashes white and clears to give a close-up of Vignette just after she has snapped Rarity’s photo.)

Vignette: Sorry, Rare. Guess you’re not so rare after all.

(She glances up from her phone, pale blue eyes widening in total shock, and a longer shot tells the reason: the flesh-and-blood Rarity is still very much present.)

Vignette: Okay, that was your cue to disappear.

(The phone fires off again, but Rarity conjures up a gem shield and lets it be pulled in—she used the magic of her pendant to stop the first strike.)

Rarity: (smirking, circling around Vignette) Hmm. Never underestimate a good accessory. (Vignette tries again; same result.)

Vignette: Stop un-magique-ing my magique thingie! (Again, this time with a snarl.)

Rarity: I can’t believe I listened to you over Applejack!

(Now she goes on the offensive, projecting a stream of smaller gems into the adversary’s face and taking advantage of the distraction to bug out.)

Vignette: Hey!

(Rarity takes cover behind a float.)

Vignette: (scoffing) U-G-H, whatevs. I don’t need you anyway. (addressing room) Attention, people who work for me! (They scramble up.) I am now the lead costume designer, because our former lead costume designer is being HBW—“Herself, but Worse”! Now pretend I just gave you an inspiring speech and GET BACK TO WORK!!

(The subordinates scurry to meet her demand. Wipe to Applejack, pacing worriedly not far from the hangar under a darkening sunset sky. At the sound of a few musical tones broadcast over the public-address system, everyone within earshot hurries away, leaving her alone.)

Applejack: The parade’s about to start! (Groan.) If only I’d done somethin’ or said somethin’ different, maybe none of this woulda happened.

(A moment’s morose reflection gives way to a heavy sigh.)

Applejack: I really screwed things up with Rarity.

Rarity: (from o.s., somewhat distant) APPLEJAAACK!! (Who turns toward the voice with a gasp.)

Applejack: Rarity!

(And here comes the former lead costume designer, badly out of breath.)

Rarity: Don’t go! (Cut to Applejack.)

Applejack: Uh…

Rarity: (from o.s.) You were right.

(Cut back to her for the start of the next line, then to Applejack and finally both as she continues. An understanding smile comes over the apple expert’s face by the time she runs out of words.)

Rarity: I got carried away and let this stupid parade become the only thing that mattered to me, and I let Vignette manipulate me with false flattery into forgetting what really matters—my friends.

Applejack: (touching Rarity’s shoulders) Come on now. Your talent puts you so far beyond the need for flattery. (Cut to Rarity.)

Rarity: (blushing angrily, throwing hands off) Stop flattering me! I’m not finished apologizing! (Deep breath to compose herself.) I’m sorry I lost sight of why we applied for jobs here in the first place. (Cut to Applejack on the next line.)

Applejack: And I’m sorry I got jealous. All this time I thought I was bein’ honest with you about not likin’ Vignette, I-I wasn’t bein’ honest with myself. I felt like I was losin’ my best friend.

Rarity: (taking her hand) You didn’t.

(Blushes stain both pairs of cheeks as the reconciled friends smile at one another.)

Rarity: Caramel apple girls to the end?

(A beaming nod in response is the prelude to a tight hug that lasts and lasts—at least until Rarity backs away with a cry of fright.)

Rarity: Our friends! Vignette has them all trapped in the Internet! (shaking Applejack’s shoulders) She confessed! We have to get them out! We have to save them! (Applejack backs off.)

Applejack: What?! We’ve been wastin’ all this time chin-waggin’ about feelin’s? (socking one hand into other palm) We need to get crackin’ on a rescue plan!

(Strategizing is stopped cold by the ringing of her phone, she fishes it from a pocket and answers, greatly surprised to find herself talking to…)

Applejack: Twilight?

(A vertical panel displaying the bookworm in the white no-space slides in from the right to establish a split-screen view.)

* Twilight: It worked! Applejack, we’re stuck in Vignette’s phone! (Fullscreen view of her and the other four here.) I found a way to hack her Apple Popper app to route a VOIP connection to your IP address.

(Unlike the other acronyms used to this point, “VOIP”—Voice Over Internet Protocol—is spoken as a single syllable. Back to Applejack, who has managed to follow none of this.)

Applejack: Uh…magic. Got it. (Split screen.)

* Twilight: Listen. We’ve come up with a plan to set all this right.

(Full screen on her end, utter confusion slowly taking hold in the others’ minds during the following string of technical jargon. As she continues, the view cuts back to Applejack and Rarity, her words heard over the line; the girl in the brown hat uses her free hand to cover her non-phone ear while moving a few steps away.)

* Twilight: You’ll need to remotely install a virus that creates a backdoor admin account which you can use to reset all the permissions on her phone and make a proxy backup. That should get us out of here. (Applejack lowers the phone and taps the screen to activate the speaker on these last words.) How much coding do you know?

Applejack: Uh…none. I…I can rub two sticks together.

(Twilight’s words now begin to sound as if they are being spoken simultaneously over the phone and by the girl herself, but somewhat muffled.)

Twilight: Oh, boy. Okay. Get a pencil.

Applejack: Uh, hang on. (walking) I think I can hear you talkin’!

Twilight: What? (Stop near a closed door.)

Applejack: S-Somewhere close!

(She notices it and puts a hand to the knob. Snap to black, which splits vertically to frame her incredulous silhouette just outside as the door swings inward. Once normal lighting re-establishes itself, the camera zooms out quickly to frame the very room in which her five missing friends have been trapped.)

Applejack: (dryly) Really, y’all?

*** The echo effect of the occupants’ words ends at this point. ***

Twilight: Ohhhh! The phone just teleported us into some random white room in the park.

(Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rainbow at least have the good grace to look ashamed of themselves, but Twilight slaps on a big stupid grin and adjusts her glasses.)

Sunset: (vexed) We were just sitting in a white room the whole time?

Pinkie: (brightly) So you guys didn’t know that?

(Those six words explain her staring-off-into-space bit at the start of this act—she was the only one to notice the door, but never said anything about it. Rainbow hangs her head out of sheer mortification, while Sunset’s face goes a most alarming shade of red-orange and a teakettle sings in her head. Twilight manages a sheepish little blush as Rarity joins Applejack at the doorway and a flash heralds the sudden arrival of…)

Twilight: Micro Chips?!

(He has cleaned himself up from his Act Two mishap at the caramel apple stand and is holding one of those snacks. Applejack has put away her phone by this point.)

Twilight: (gasping) Did Vignette take your picture just now?

Micro: I was just minding my own business, making perfect caramel apples, when suddenly Vignette saw me and said I wasn’t as cool a nerd as she thought. Then she took my picture and I ended up here, violating all known laws of space and time.

Sunset: (now calm) Guys, this is bad. It means Vignette is on the parade route, and she’s using her phone to change whatever she doesn’t like!

Fluttershy: What happens if she decides she doesn’t like the crowd? (Gasp.)

(The room is seen in full for the first time: squarish, perhaps four or five yards on a side and about half as tall. Twilight has now pocketed her phone.)

Twilight: Everyone in the park is watching that parade. If her phone teleports that many people into this tiny room at the same time…

Pinkie: (gasping deeply) Squish City!

(She mashes Fluttershy’s and Rainbow’s cheeks against her own to drive the point home.)

Rarity: Our friends are in that crowd! Sweetie Belle is in that crowd! We’ve got to stop her!

Applejack: You do realize if we stop the parade, no one will see all your hard work.

Rarity: (smiling) Someone reminded me that none of that matters without my friends.

(The reminder brings a blushing smile to the freckled face.)

Sunset: We’d better hurry. (touching Applejack’s shoulder, walking out past her) I’m sure Vignette’s getting more corrupted by Equestrian magic every minute.

(Applejack steels herself and follows Sunset out. Wipe to a long overhead shot of the parade in progress, with Vignette riding on the cloud float as it brings up the rear. Throngs of cheering patrons line the route on both sides. Cut to a ground-level view of the spectacle rolling by: the four riders from Act One on a candy-themed float, a cowboy roping the Adagio mascot on one styled after the Wild West, the holographic Throwbacks—now jerkily playing their instruments—and the real Vignette on the stage. Twilight’s double has now acquired a keytar, Vignette a microphone, and the sun has fully set.)

Amplified, sung loudly and badly, with no particular regard for pitch or meter

Accompanied by a sloppy rock melody, moderate 4 (G major)

Vignette:                Be yourself, but better

                        Or don’t be yourself at all

(The crowd’s jubilation turns to loud jeers and boos at her atrocious performance, and ears are plugged with fingers.)

                        Follow Vignette on Snapgab

                        That’s V-I-G-N-E-T-T-E

(She holds the last letter/”note” until a squeal of feedback drowns her out, looks over the side, and finds healthy degrees of displeasure, disgust, and disgruntlement on every face within her field of vision.)

Vignette: (seething, throwing microphone aside) This crowd isn’t cheering enough for my tastes. (pulling out phone) Luckily, that can be changed with the flick of a finger. (aiming it at crowd) Say cheese, everyone!

(Her perspective of the scrolling faces. Just as all three Crusaders come into frame and the index finger moves to trigger the camera, a mighty crash throws her off balance and the music cuts off sharply. Back to her as the entire front end of the float is tipped up from the roadbed by a tanned arm; a longer shot puts Applejack on the scene, using her magical strength to bring the proceedings to a halt, accompanied by gasps from the crowd. The camera then shifts to just behind Vignette and tilts up on the next line to frame the other six Rainbooms standing dead ahead.)

Rarity: Sorry to rain on your parade!

(Applejack lets the float slam down and gives her an index-finger gun.)

Applejack: Nice one! (Rarity winks in reply.)

Rarity: But I’m afraid this evening is canceled. (holding out one hand, palm up) Now turn off your phone and hand it over!

(Confused murmurings from the spectators.)

Vignette: (straightening up) Are you honestly asking a social media star to hand over her phone? (More murmurs.)

Applejack: Yeah, she is.

Vignette: (gesturing toward Throwbacks) Rarity, this is the version of your friends that will be popular. I have the metrics to back that up.

(Cocked-eyebrow glances pass between the two teens, followed by a double eye roll.)

Vignette: Doesn’t matter if they’re real. It’s what you show people online. This is your chance to be everything you’ve always wanted!

Rarity: No! It’s a chance to look like everything I’ve always wanted! (glancing at Applejack) What I really want has been right in front of me the whole time! (smiling, offering her a hand) My friends.

(Applejack reaches for it. Cut to an extreme close-up as the two sets of fingers wrap around each other, then to each of their pendants powering up in turn. Twilight and Sunset do likewise, then Fluttershy and Pinkie, the pink girl taking Rainbow’s hand. The screen tiles itself with seven vertical panels that slide in from top/bottom, each framing one girl from nose to knees. Tilt up slightly to frame their faces as they turn in unison to present their right cheeks, each of which becomes decorated with an element from that girl’s cutie mark. Fade to white, then in to the linked seven floating in midair, fully ponied up and wearing the hero outfits they gained in “Forgotten Friendship.” Vignette gapes up at them from her spot on the stopped float.)

Vignette: Huh?

Rarity: No amount of online success is worth it without my real-life friends to share in it!

(Crackles of energy work their way in from both ends of the line, arcing from one to the next. Rarity, at the center position, finds the power concentrating itself into her right arm; it forms into a long, glowing whip with a jeweled handle as she pulls her hands free. Vignette has time to voice one small yelp before a mighty crack punches cleanly through the phone in her hand, forcing her to drop it as the wayward Equestrian magic that had enchanted it begins to dissipate. It lands on the float, screen down, and the sticker on the fractured case resumes its original smiling expression as the last of the magic fades away. One by one, the Throwbacks fizzle and vanish.)

Vignette: What have you done? Now how can things ever be perfect? (The Rainbooms settle slowly onto the float, Rarity no longer holding the whip.)

Rarity: I love nothing more than someone telling me I made a perfect outfit. But I’d say you got a bit carried away.

Vignette: (chastened) I—I guess so.

Applejack: (needled) You guess so? You created virtual holograms of our friends and almost sent an entire crowd of people to Squish City!

(Grumbles ripple up and down the route.)

Vignette: (pleadingly) But…BYBB.

Rarity: It’s not a bad thing to want to be better, but not at the expense of other people— (looking to Applejack) —and especially not your friends.

Vignette: Friends? (Sigh.) I have three million followers, but no real friends. (She turns away.) How pathetic is that? (Quiet moan.)

Rarity: You’ve got one… (Vignette raises her head, surprised, as Rarity extends a hand.) …if you want.

Applejack: (offering one of hers) Make that two.

(The crowd goes wild as Vignette clasps Rarity’s fingers n acceptance.)

Pinkie: (to Fluttershy/Rainbow) Why are they clapping? (shrugging; Rainbow checks her phone) Do we even know what’s going on?

Fluttershy: (shrugging) Eh.

Rainbow: Whoa! (showing phone to Pinkie) The Rainbooms are trending on Snapgab!

Pinkie: People are saying that rainbow laser thing was the coolest light parade show they’ve ever seen!  

(Fluttershy smiles along with them as they turn to face the crowd, all using their mobile devices in assorted ways.)

Applejack: Hey…maybe the parade ain’t ruined after all.

Sunset: We do still have our real instruments up there.

Rainbow: (to Fluttershy) You’re not too nervous?

Fluttershy: (playfully) I should ask you the same thing. (She adds a wink as Rainbow nudges her in the shoulder.)

Rarity: (to Applejack) If you’re up for it.

(The farm girl nods as cheers erupt from all sides.)

Quiet, sparse electric guitar line, pop feel, fast 4 (A major)

(Rainbow plugs her guitar cord into an amplifier; Sunset sets the dropped microphone back in its stand; Applejack plugs a cord into her bass; Fluttershy picks up Pinkie’s drumsticks from the kit.)

Rarity:                A blemish on the surface of a perfect happy pic

(Standing with keytar slung up, Rarity regards it with some unease. She smiles and reaches up to fluff her hair, the camera tilting up to frame the top of her head as the view dissolves to the hangar’s cluttered design area. Her hair is now piled in curls and topped with a miniature pointed hat and strings of pennants that call to mind an old-time carousel. She has donned forearm guards striped in two shades of light orange and is no longer ponied up.)

                        Just add a fancy filter, and that’s an easy fix

(The shoes are now light blue, the one-shoulder dress orange-trimmed in shades of blue, with a cylindrical skirt patterned as this same ride—ponies and all. A blue-green gem pattern covers the bodice.)

Bass drum, synthesizer in

(She smiles at her reflection in a mirror at first, but her face soon falls. The appearance of several dim silhouettes in the glass surprises her; she turns to find the other six girls smiling her way, all back to their normal selves and clothing.)

Rarity:                But behind that perfect snapshot are the people who you love

(A cautious, lip-chewing smile is met by a moment’s pondering from Applejack, followed by a winking grin and thumbs-up, and tan hands pull white ones away.)

                        Don’t forget those happy moments are because of

(Cut to a photo of all seven whooping it up in the park, a selfie taken by Applejack; Rarity is back to her usual elegant self. This is followed by Pinkie dropping a caramel apple on Twilight’s head as Applejack eyes one of her own concernedly and Rarity smiles over the shoulders of all three.)

Vocals echo slightly

Applejack:                 Our memories together

Rarity:                They can last forever

(Fluttershy and Rainbow ride the monster roller coaster, the former having a ball and the latter freaking out. Next Twilight, Pinkie, and Sunset have a go on a “swing ride”—chairs suspended by chains from the edge of a rotating circular platform.)

Applejack:                We won’t let this break us

Rainbooms:                We’ll get through whatever

Full percussion in; echo ends

(Fade to white, then in to the stage; the band is in full swing and still ponied up.)

Rainbooms:                Side by side on this adventure, our friendship will never, ever end

                        Side by side, besties forever, we know that it’s more than just a trend

Percussion drops back to a cymbal tapping eight notes

(Cut to Applejack and Rarity in turn.)

Applejack:                ’Cause it’s you

Rarity:                And me

Rainbooms:                This is how it should be

Full instrumentation in

(Fade to white, then in to a slow zoom in on a game booth manned by a sullen-looking Flim and Flam. The girls have gathered here, reverted to their civilian selves, and Rainbow lets loose a salvo of baseballs that knock out every pyramid of three bottles set up on a shelf. The shady brothers can only stare slack-jawed as their would-be marks celebrate in assorted ways.)

Applejack:                        The whole world stands before you, full of things to see

(A giant stuffed parakeet, identical to the one Sunset angrily rejected in Act Three, is hoisted overhead by Twilight and Sunset as all take their leave. Cut to Fluttershy, face scrunched up with terror, as Rainbow leans into view to gently pull away the hands covering her eyes, and zoom out. The Rainbooms are riding the Ferris wheel, and Fluttershy begins to get into the spirit as they rise toward its peak.)

                                Pay attention or you’ll miss it, life’s best is always free

 (The bumper-car arena, as the girls steer about, Bulk rams Trixie and knocks her back. Pinkie—dressed in her Fun Inspector “uniform,” sans pendant—cruises by and hands her a cone of cotton candy with a wink, instantly cheering her up.)

                                Don’t lose sight of what’s important, give more than you can take

(Rarity, in her carousel dress, walks a runway on a float and gets a standing ovation.)

Applejack, Rarity:                There’s so much to strive for, so many friendships you can make

Instrumentation drops back to quiet guitar, bass drum, synth; vocals echo slightly

(Rarity spots Applejack at the back of the crowd and pulls her joyfully up onto the float for a hug.)

Rarity:                        All those likes can’t measure

Applejack:                        The fun we have together

Applejack, Rarity:                When we’re in the moment

Rainbooms:                        Everything is better

Full instrumentation in; echo ends

(Cut to a long shot of a photo booth and zoom in slowly as the girls crowd in, Pinkie and Rarity both back in their everyday duds. Inside, they sit/stand in every available square inch of space and are all set for the flash—until Rainbow loses her balance and sends everyone toppling toward the floor. The results are shown in a series of snapshots: the tumble in progress…a tangle of flailing legs with Rainbow’s head and arm partly visible behind…seven dazed, disheveled, dismayed faces, Applejack with hat in hand… the girls back in order and laughing over the fumble…Rainbow winking and flexing a bicep as Twilight makes a silly face behind her back…Sunset offering an even goofier one for the lens…Applejack winking alongside Rarity…Pinkie wearing a dog mask and Sunset a big red mustache…Fluttershy and Pinkie laughing themselves silly.)

Rainbooms:                Side by side on this adventure, our friendship will never, ever end

                        Side by side, besties forever, we know that it’s more than just a trend

Sustained synth chord only

(A flash brings up one final group shot, with Applejack and Rarity sharing a quiet smile amid the surrounding jubilation. Zoom out slowly to show it as part of the strip of photos taken in the booth.)

Applejack, Rarity: (muted)                This is how it should be

Song ends

(Fade to black.)