MY LITTLE PONY: EQUESTRIA GIRLS—SUNSET’S BACKSTAGE PASS
Written by Whitney Ralls
Produced by Angela Belyea
Story editing by Nick Confalone
Directed by Ishi Rudell, Katrina Hadley
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Note: This transcript is based on the original airing of this special on Discovery Family,
which ran 44 minutes. It was later released in six segments on YouTube, each
with its own title card; one is shown at the beginning of the Discovery Family
airing as well.
This special premiered while Volume Three of the Digital Series was in
progress. Refer to the transcripts of “Festival Filters” through “Five Lines You
Need to Stand In” for details on the girls’ outfits.
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade to black from the title card, then in to a long overhead shot of a broad forest meadow set up for an outdoor festival. Performance stages, tented stalls for a range of activities, a cluster of motor homes parked to serve as overnight accommodations for their owners, and so on. A stream threads out from the trees and along one side of the grassy expanse. Night has fallen. Tilt down slowly from the plethora of preparations to frame the paved lot and entrance gates seen in “Five Lines You Need to Stand In”—this is the site of the music festival seen/described in that short and its kin. Rarity’s motor home—see “Camping Must Haves”— rumbles along the street that runs past the area, then turns onto a side road whose signs mark it as the path for campers to follow.)
(Cut to a slow pan through a campground, in which attendees are hauling/setting up gear and amusing themselves in a number of ways. The camera stops on Sunset Shimmer as she steps into view.)
Sunset: Starswirled Music Festival, we have arrived!
(The vehicle has now parked, and the other six plus Spike are out; Applejack sets a cooler on the ground as Fluttershy pets the pooch. Rainbow Dash has a gym bag slung up.)
Applejack: Two days and nights of cool music, hot food, and sleepin’ under the stars! (Pinkie Pie jumps excitedly over to Sunset.)
Sunset: To Pinkie and me, this festival’s about one thing only.
Pinkie, Sunset: POST CRUSH!
Applejack: (chuckling) We know. Y’all won’t stop talkin’ about ’em.
Pinkie: (rapid fire) Who, Post Crush? That’s only because Post Crush is the craziest, most amazing-est pop duo ever! Post Crush, Post Crush, Post Crush!
(Recall that the band was briefly mentioned in the “How to Backstage” short. Pinkie relents upon getting an eyeful of the blonde’s smirk.)
Pinkie: Oh. I see your point.
Sunset: After they canceled their last tour to go on indefinite hiatus— (Finger quotation marks on these last two words.) —we thought we’d never see them live.
Pinkie: (singsong) But we thought wro-o-ong! Roll call!
(Cut to a background of pink hearts streaming against streaks of pink and yellow; Sunset drifts into view, crossing her arms.)
Sunset: Kiwi Lollipop— (A speech bubble containing Pinkie’s face appears.)
Pinkie: —a.k.a. K-Lo— (Gone again.)
Sunset: —is the cool one.
(The streaks shift to blue and white, Sunset vanishing so her opposite number can drift into view, adopting a pose with one arm extended and the other hanging at her side.)
Pinkie: While Supernova Zap— (A bubble pops in, housing Sunset’s face.)
Sunset: —a.k.a. Su-Z— (Disappear.)
Pinkie: —is the zany one!
(She lets her eyes counter-rotate to make the point; now both girls float into view against a rotating pink/yellow/blue sunburst and lean back to support their weight on one another’s shoulders while holding their respective poses. During the next line, the backdrop dissolves to the campground.)
Pinkie: (slyly) Not unlike another certain dynamic duo I know.
(The others giggle over the pair’s display of unbridled enthusiasm.)
Applejack: All right, less laughin’ and more gaffin’.
(She bends to pick up the cooler; cut to Pinkie and Sunset, who grin as a pink arm drapes itself across the leather-jacketed shoulders.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) We got an early mornin’ tomorrow.
(These two head in, accompanied by Pinkie’s bubbly giggle, as the camera tilts up into the sky and stops on the crescent moon among the stars. A dissolve turns it into the sun and changes night into day, and a cut to the interior of the motor home frames Sunset sleeping soundly in a sleeping bag on a bunk that stretches the length of one window. Hearty snores reverberate through the space, which is bereft of any other living being; sleeping bags and pillows for Twilight, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rainbow are laid out on the floor, and those for Applejack and Rarity are set up on bunks at a different wall. Sunset shifts not a particle as the camera zooms in slowly. Cut to a close-up of her cell phone lying on her pillow, its screen dark at first but lighting up with a photo of two brightly outfitted teenage girls standing and posing as Pinkie and Sunset did during their “roll call” the previous night. The phone begins to vibrate and play a clip of peppy music as an alarm, jolting Sunset awake.)
Sunset: Huh?
(Shutting it off, she sits up in bed with a giddy laugh and picks it up. Jump to the floor and dart o.s., throwing back into view the pajamas she had been wearing, and in no time flat she is fully dressed and heading out the door with phone back in pocket. Cut to the area immediately outside the motor home; Rarity, sitting at a picnic table, tweaks a glittery, gem-studded, purple peaked cap on Spike’s head before he jumps down to the grass. Twilight, Applejack, and Fluttershy are enjoying breakfast as they sit on a circle of stumps, and the bespectacled girl giggles softly as Sunset circles around to them.)
Rainbow: (running into view) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it!
(She is carrying a wooden paddle painted with the Rainbooms’ logo on the end of a long pole—the sort of thing one might hold up during a live show. As she finishes, she swings it around herself with reckless gusto, scoring a glancing blow on the red/gold-haired girl’s rump.)
Sunset: (screwing up one eye, rubbing spot) Hey!
Rainbow: Oh! Uh, sorry. (walking off) I’ll be more careful from now on.
Sunset: Ah, not gonna let a little thing like intense pain ruin this perfect day!
Applejack: (to Fluttershy) So I says to Big Mac, “Get your own chicken coop!”
(A surprised mouthful of orange juice is spat all over her by the animal lover as Sunset crosses to them and Twilight.)
Applejack: Hey!
Fluttershy: (giggling) Sorry! That one has animals in it. (Pinkie whips into view and over to Applejack.)
Pinkie: What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes?
(Hold up three fingers on the end of this, with thumb and forefinger joined to form an A-OK sign, then hop over to Sunset.)
Pinkie: Pinkie Pie! (She hustles her fellow fan away.)
Fluttershy: (to Twilight/Applejack) Um, I don’t get it.
(Applejack just shoots a mildly exasperated squint in her direction. Dissolve to the Rainbooms and Spike merrily walking/bounding/chatting their way along a forest path marked to lead them toward the main event. Applejack has cleaned herself up now, and Rainbow is still carrying her Rainbooms sign. One of Sunset’s hiking-booted feet comes down squarely in a mud puddle, throwing her off balance so that she has to grab at Twilight to keep from measuring her height on the turf.)
Sunset: Whoa!
Twilight: Whoa! Are you okay?
Sunset: (holding up dirty foot) Just a little mud. Heh.
(She hangs back as Twilight continues on, but Pinkie leans into view before she can even get another step along.)
Pinkie: Sunset, Sunset! Look! (She whisks Sunset away in a blur of crimson and yellow.)
Sunset: Whoa!
(Cut to the three admission lines in the paved lot outside the gate.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) So many lines to stand in! (Cut to her and Sunset.) This day’s already amazing! Let’s go!
(The dimension-hopper finds herself being dragged by the wrist into the center queue, and Pinkie lounges against the barricade dividing it from the next one over. The mud on Sunset’s boot is now gone.)
Pinkie: (casually, to the girl in front of her) You come to this line often? Any other sweet lines we should hit up?
Rainbow: (waving to them from another line) Heeey!
(Twilight and Fluttershy, with her, add waves of their own, and Twilight chips in a giggle that prompts a good-natured eye roll from Sunset. However, the latter’s mood shifts to one of mild impatience as she trains her gaze to her right; the line containing the other three begins to advance at a decent clip.)
Sunset: Hmmm. That line’s moving fast.
(Vexation grows at the sight of the bunch to her left—which includes Applejack and a waving Rarity—stepping ahead at speed. Throughout all of this, the center line has not moved a lick.)
Sunset: Hmmm. They are too.
(After several frustrated seconds of watching the other two lines roll on, she cups hands to mouth and calls toward the gate.)
Sunset: CAN’T THIS THING MOVE ANY FASTER?
(On the end of this, zoom out quickly to frame an older male security guard behind a table at the gates, checking a boy’s backpack. He leans out to address her in close-up: pale blue-gray skin, dark gray mustache and buzz-cut hair, sunglasses.)
Guard: Security is an art. It cannot be rushed.
(His inspection complete, he hands the bag over, lets the teen enter, and waves the next attendee up to the table. Zoom out quickly to frame Sunset, who voices a weary groan as Pinkie strikes a pose in readiness to take a picture of herself with her phone.)
Pinkie: Aw, cheer up. (She throws her arm around Sunset’s shoulders and aims the phone at them.) Lines fly when you’re having fun.
(A wink, and she clicks the shutter to capture both their smiling faces. Dissolve to a close-up of a bag being handed over, opened and checked; the guard’s features scrunch ever so slightly, but the possessor gets a band around a wrist and is cleared to enter on the man’s phone. Another bag is submitted, another patron approved, and in short order Pinkie is thumbed through the checkpoint.)
Pinkie: (winking to Sunset, aiming index-finger guns) See you in there, Sunset!
(She sprints through the gate, and her fellow traveler is issued a wristband and approved after a brief, tense delay. Yellow-orange cheeks split into a huge smile as she hurries in after Pinkie and catches up to the other Rainbooms; Spike is not with them, and Rainbow is waving her sign. Sunset uncorks an exhalation of loud relief as Pinkie bounces in place.)
Applejack: Welp, y’all have fun seein’ Post Crush. We’ll see you back at camp tonight.
(Pinkie and Sunset wave goodbye as the other five head off, followed by the latter whipping a map out of a pants pocket.)
Sunset: (nudging Pinkie) Main objective—get front row for Post Crush. (Unfold.) Mission procedure—
(Close-up of the map, her finger tracing from area to area as she names them.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) —if we cut around the Neon Garden to the main stage and rush the front during Ponnyvare’s set— (Back to her and Pinkie.) —we can camp there until showtime. (Pinkie glances away, her attention caught and held.)
Pinkie: Secondary objective—win a tandem bicycle!
(She is gone in a pink/magenta blur before Sunset can even think about voicing a response, and is soon running up to a stand at which this very item is on display. On the counter next to the attendant is a jar filled with jellybeans, also depicted on the signs that flank the tableau. She leans in to scrutinize the container in close-up.)
Pinkie: All I have to do is guess how many candies are in the jar. And my sugar senses say… (Zoom out quickly to frame the attendant.) …three hundred and five!
(The smirking worker hits a button to set off a buzzer—wrong answer—and Pinkie utters a crushed groan and stands as Sunset catches up, having stashed her map.)
Sunset: What about seeing Post Crush together?
Pinkie: Uh, this bike has two seats, Sunset. That’s one more than usual! (Long pause under Sunset’s disapproving glare.) Fine. I’ll focus.
(That attitude lasts for the split second it takes her spot something else interesting o.s.)
Pinkie: Oh, look! The Neon Garden!
(She peels out, leaving Sunset to slump on her feet and moan in helpless exasperation. Cut to an arched entrance cut into a neon-lit wall of hedges.)
Pinkie: (running toward this) Whee!
(She trails off into blissful giggles as she enters, the camera cutting to within a passage cut through the greenery and lined with the same type of lights. Sunset slides to a stop at the entrance and charges in after her. A merry chase ensues, ranging through a network of passages whose walls, floors, and ceilings are liberally bedecked with glowing strings, dots, and floral figures. Sunset is eventually forced to stop and catch her breath.)
Sunset: The Neon Garden is a maze?
(Zoom out quickly to a long overhead shot of the area on the end of this, proving her right. The immense hedgerows divide the area into four major chambers, with tunnels bored through them and into two corners at the perimeter. One chamber is further split into two by walls. Cut back to Sunset, who stops within one passage to do a little pondering and moves on, not seeing a laughing Pinkie peek out from a connecting branch and duck away again. The searcher steps back toward the source of the sound but can find no trace of her friend; she steps o.s. again and ends up missing her target’s giggly dangle into/out of view from above. Next Sunset steps in from a side run farther back and stops with an irked groan.)
Sunset: Where is Pinkie Pie?!
(Close-up of her feet backing slowly up along one route as wrapped candies fall to form a trail, then cut to her. She has procured a bag of the sweets and is working her way through the maze, while Pinkie scuttles along to pick them up and stow them in her hair. Cut to just outside one entrance, Sunset drops one more piece, then plants the whole bag and ducks away to keep watch from behind a corner. Here comes the girl with the insatiable sweet tooth, scooping up the last of the loose candies; before she can snatch the bag, though, Sunset pops out and seizes one wrist.)
Sunset: Come on! (dragging her away) We’re gonna miss the show!
Pinkie: Aww…
(They pass a young man with curly red hair, a flower tucked above one ear, and a water balloon in each hand; an easel stands at a short distance, near the trees. He gives an exuberant cry, speaking with a German accent, and his words mark him as an artist.)
Artist: Who wants to be part of an art show?
(In close-up, Pinkie stops with a happy gasp and drags Sunset back toward both this easel and a second one that has been set up next to it.)
Pinkie: Ooh, ooh, ooh! I do! I do!
(Here comes the wind-up, then the pitch—and one girl recoils in horror and throws up both arms to cover her head as the other beams from ear to ear. No points for guessing which is which. The balloons burst against the blank canvases, splattering Pinkie with pink paint and Sunset with blue. The former raises her arms in triumph, while the latter looks ready to administer a thorough beating to the first target she can lay hands on.)
(Cut to an extreme close-up of a paper towel dispenser as Sunset jerks a sheet away, then to her standing at a bathroom mirror and gloomily wiping herself clean. Pinkie’s laughter rings out from one of the closed stalls, and she opens its door just enough to peek out as Sunset pivots to face her.)
Pinkie: Guess what! I spilled paint, and it looks exactly like Rarity with a pirate mustache!
(She opens the door fully on the end of this, revealing on its inner surface a decent likeness of the fashionista—accented by a thick, curling crop of hair on the upper lip. The “artist” adds a chirpy giggle, having fully cleaned up except for her fingertips, but gets a long, searching stare from her now-clean audience of one.)
Pinkie: What? It’s washable.
(Cut to an extreme close-up of two wrists, Pinkie’s right and Sunset’s left, being tied together with a piece of curd by Sunset. Zoom out to frame them both, the pink fingers now scrubbed free of paint.)
Sunset: There! Now, no more getting separated— (leading her away) —and no more distractions!
Pinkie: (saluting with free hand) You got it, Suns— (yanked along) —whoa!
(Cut to a long shot of the main stage, seen from the back of a sizable crowd, and tilt down slowly. Night has fallen.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) They’re about to go on! (She drags Pinkie into view.) We’ll have to push to the front row! Come on!
(The party lover stops dead to inhale a lungful of the aroma drifting up from a nearby snack cart and gasp in delight. Pan slightly to put her o.s. and focus on the proprietor—Puffed Pastry, the French chef she antagonized in “Spring Breakdown.” Zoom in quickly to a softly focused close-up of the snack being handed over.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Puffed Pastry’s exclusive star-crusted, cinnamon-dipped churros!
(The “stars” are tiny, sparkling sugar crystals. After one churro is lovingly snapped in half, the view returns to the two girls, seen in normal focus; Pinkie has fallen into a drooling trance, but snaps out of it with renewed determination.)
Pinkie: No! I will not give in!
(She squeezes her eyes shut against the temptation, but resolve crumbles into an ecstatic squeal as soon as she cracks one lid open.)
Pinkie: (dragging Sunset toward cart) I can’t resist!
Sunset: (trying/failing to reel her in) This is the worst possible time for churros, Pinkie!
(Cut to the cart on the end of this. Pinkie snaps to a stop at the counter, but inertia carries a yelling Sunset ahead to crash into her; their combined impact bashes the cart out of view but leaves both Puffed and the customer she was about to serve completely untouched. The dust clears to expose the two girls lying badly dazed amid a scramble of smashed cooking equipment and spilled ingredients, the cord having fallen away from their wrists. A broad shadow falls over the wreckage, and the camera tilts up toward its source as Pinkie, the only one with a free eye at the moment, gets her wits about her and turns to see. The guard from the front gate has arrived and is not a bit happy about either the wipeout or the sugary aftermath that now covers his entire head and most of his shirt. Pinkie manages a chagrined laugh, while Sunset grimaces in mute horror at the thought of what he might do to them.)
Pinkie: Our bad.
(The other half of the wrecking crew shoots her a silent snarl. Cut to a closed door, which is thrown open from the other side by the now-clean guard to frame all three. Sunset’s wristband is cut off with a pair of scissors in extreme close-up, and a cut back to him shows that he has done the same to Pinkie’s band. Both are dropped to the grass, Sunset trying futilely to snatch them out of the air, and the big man pulls the door shut behind himself to shut them out of the event. Blue-green eyes fire off a venomous, sidewise glare at the blue ones that turn guiltily away, but the silent recrimination is cut off by the glare of multicolored lights spilling over them from within the wall. A female announcer’s voice comes in over a loudspeaker, underscored by chants by an energetic crowd, and spotlight beams flick through the sky.)
Announcer: Let me hear three big cheers for two best friends who got back together for one incredible night—POOOST CRUUUSH!!
(Both girls withdraw into their respective private anguishes, Pinkie reaching tentatively toward Sunset’s shoulder but stopping short. Dissolve to the other five girls sitting around the flattop grill table included in Rarity’s motor home, as seen in “Camping Must Haves,” and zoom in slowly. They are roasting marshmallows on skewers above the heated surface and talking/laughing animatedly, and Rainbow removes and eats a nicely browned treat as Pinkie and Sunset trudge up to the gathering. The athlete is no longer carrying her Rainbooms sign.)
Rainbow: There they are! Two peas in a pod. How was it? Rad-tacular? Amaze-magic?
(Sunset responds with a fed-up groan, pointedly refusing to make eye contact with Pinkie.)
Applejack: Uh, what’s wrong?
Sunset: (dejectedly/bitterly) We missed Post Crush. Someone wanted to win a bike, then got us lost in the maze, covered in paint, sidelined by churros, and finally kicked out!
Twilight, Applejack: (uneasily) Uhhh…
Pinkie: (touching Sunset’s shoulder) I’m really sorry. I wish we could do the day all over again. I’d do it different. (Sunset scowls and throws the hand off.)
Sunset: Me too. (to herself, stalking off) I’d do it alone.
(Dissolve to a hilltop that overlooks the stage and activity areas at a considerable distance. Having climbed up here, the ejected fan sits down into a miserable huddle as cheers and spotlights drift through the night. She moans sadly in close-up, letting her head flop forward onto her knees while traces of tears gather in her eyes; seconds later, a beam of brilliant pink light lances upward through the trees, yielding to a shock wave that spreads through the forest and washes over Sunset. By the time she looks up, the energy has faded and the last eddies of wind from its passage are dying away. Bewildered and despondent, she looks from one side to the other as the camera tilts up to the moon and stars.)
(Dissolve to the interior of the motor home, once again devoid of life except for a zonked-out, snoring Sunset in her sleeping bag on the window bunk. In close-up, her phone’s alarm goes off as it did before.)
Sunset: (from o.s., drowsily) Huh?
(She shuts it off and regards the thing with two bleary eyes before sitting up with a deflated moan. The pajama-clad teen shows none of her previous vigor this time around, instead leaving her bunk and plodding across the space. Cut to the area outside the vehicle, Twilight/Applejack/Fluttershy/Rarity/Spike disposed as they were on the previous morning, and Twilight giggles as a fully dressed Sunset circles to them. It is again morning.)
Rainbow: (running into view with sign, swinging/hitting Sunset in the rump) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it!
Sunset: (screwing up one eye, rubbing spot) Ow!
Rainbow: Oops. Heh. Sorry. (walking off) I’ll be more careful from now on.
(Zoom in quickly to a close-up of the yellow-orange face, the brain behind it having ground to a sudden halt.)
Sunset: “Starswirled, day one”?
Applejack: (from o.s., under previous line) So I says to Big Mac, “Get your own chicken coop!”
(Cut to her, Twilight, and Fluttershy; the pink-haired girl spits juice all over Applejack and giggles as Sunset moves up.)
Fluttershy: Oh, sorry. That one has animals in it. (Sunset turns away, horrified.)
Sunset: (softly, to herself) What?
(Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: snap to Sunset standing frozen amid the four girls and Spike, who carry on with their morning activities and pay her no mind—that is, until Pinkie zips up next to Applejack.)
Pinkie: What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes? (Back to Sunset on the end of this; Pinkie hops over to her.) Pinkie Pie!
(She hustles the gobsmacked girl away, not noticing the puzzled glances coming her way from Twilight and Fluttershy. Dissolve to the sun in a clear blue sky and tilt down to the girls walking the trail that leads to the festival site. As on the previous day, Sunset steps in a puddle and topples forward with a cry, stopped only by her grab at Twilight’s shoulders, and Applejack has cleaned the juice off her clothing.)
Twilight: Whoa!
Pinkie: (now o.s.) Sunset, Sunset! Look!
(Cut to the other five girls, now gathered at the edge of the front gate.)
Pinkie: (waving wildly) So many lines to stand in! This day’s already amazing!
(She flashes away, drawing a smile from Twilight and an utterly confused look from Sunset; the egghead starts toward the lines, but pauses for a look back.)
Twilight: Are you okay?
Sunset: I’m…not sure.
(The seven join the admission lines and Pinkie sidles up to the girl she spoke to on the first pass.)
Pinkie: (casually) You come to this line often? Any other sweet lines we should hit up?
(Pan away on the end of this, putting her out of view and framing Twilight/Sunset as they step in. Rainbow is now between them and Pinkie.)
Sunset: What’s going on?
Rainbow: You said it, Sunset. (calling ahead, hands cupped to mouth) What’s with these long lines, man?
(Up at the bag inspection table, the guard is running a metal-detector wand over an old woman.)
Guard: Security is an art. (Back to Sunset, popeyed.)
Sunset (softly), Guard (from o.s.): It can’t be rushed.
(Her feeling of being stuck in a rerun rises another notch. Cut to the sun shining above the gate; a dissolve shifts it ahead in the sky by a considerable amount, and she regards her new admission wristband with visible trepidation while crossing the grounds. The other six are waiting for her as before, Pinkie bouncing with barely contained glee.)
Applejack: Welp, y’all have fun seein’ Post Crush. We’ll see you back at camp tonight. (Clear out, leaving Twilight/Pinkie/Sunset together.)
Pinkie: What do you want to do first, Sunset? There’s so much we could do, liiike… (She turns Sunset’s head to follow the direction she is looking.) …win a tandem bicycle?!?
(Cut to their perspective on the end of this, zooming in quickly on the contest stand where it is on display, then back to her.)
Pinkie: (running ahead) All I have to do is guess how many candies are in the jar! (Sunset grimaces and claps a hand to her forehead.)
Sunset: Anyone else having serious déjà vu?
Twilight: Nope, just déjà v-you. (Giggle; Sunset is unamused…) Get it? ’Cause it’s just you— (…and walks off.) —with the déjà v…
Sunset: I-I don’t know how to explain it, but…I did all of this yesterday. (Twilight catches up.)
Twilight: You were at school yesterday.
(Sunset stops short, eyes widening, and Twilight runs into her from behind and ends up having to straighten her glasses. They have arrived at the stand, but there is a noticeable absence of…)
Sunset: Pinkie Pie? (sourly) I know where she’s headed.
(Cut to just inside one of the entrances to the Neon Garden. Twilight and Sunset run in, the latter toting a bag of candies which she begins to lay down in a trail as before—this time facing forward instead of walking backward, however. Twilight brings up the rear, doing likewise with a bag of her own and facing back the way they came; as a result, neither girl spots Pinkie in between them, picking up the candies and stowing them in her magenta curls. As Sunset rounds a corner, the excitable teen pokes her head out from the hedges making up one wall, scoops up every piece within reach, and ducks away in time to avoid being spotted. Sunset boggles at the disappearance of the sweets, but soon comes across a trail of discarded wrappers and shows one to Twilight with a fierce smile. The remaining contents of their bags are quickly formed into a large pile, which Twilight situates under a simple trap consisting of an open, upside-down box with one edge propped up on a stick. Sunset inspects Twilight’s setup as Pinkie wanders in, now eating from her own bag of candy.)
Pinkie: What are we waiting for?
(Both hunters deflate at having been so easily outfoxed, and all three emerge from the Neon Garden without their candy.)
Sunset: Pinkie, focus! If you keep running off like this, we’ll be late for the concert!
(They reach the easels set up by the red-haired artist; on the next line, zoom out to frame him with paint-filled water balloons in hand.)
Artist: Who wants to be part of an art show?
Pinkie: Ooh, ooh, ooh! I do, I do! (He zeroes in on them.)
Sunset: No!
(Accompanied by the pink girl’s delighted squeal and laugh. Twilight and Sunset recoil as the projectiles fly, spattering them with multiple colors rather than only pink and blue, and Twilight removes her befouled glasses in time with Sunset’s weary groan.)
Pinkie: Awesome!
(Extreme close-up of the paper towel dispenser in the bathroom as Sunset yanks one sheet free, then cut to her sullenly wiping herself off at the mirror. Twilight’s reflection steps into view with clean lenses, and she voices a groan.)
Twilight: If this already happened, couldn’t you have warned us about the paint?
(Wild laughter from the o.s. Pinkie; both turn from the mirror toward the closed stalls.)
Sunset: (flatly) Pinkie Pie just splattered paint and it looks exactly like Rarity with a pirate mustache. How’s that?
Twilight: Well, that would prove it for sure.
(Right on cue, the stall door opens to frame the last member of the trio and the sloppy, mustachioed Rarity face across the inner face. She laughs and shows it off.)
Twilight: Seriously?
Pinkie: What? It’s washable.
(Dissolve to a slow pan through an eating area and stop on the three, all clean of paint. Sunset sits on one table to face Twilight and Pinkie, the latter eating fries from a basket she has acquired. It is nighttime.)
Sunset: So what do you think, Twi? Any scientific explanation for this?
Twilight: It’s possible that yesterday a snag in the fabric of space-time could cause a temporal point—i.e. today—to fold in on itself and thereby repeat. Quite fascinating, really.
(During this spiel, she swipes a fry and the camera cuts to a close-up of it as she bends it into a circle, framing Sunset’s confounded expression. Zoom in slowly.)
Sunset: Time loop! (Back to Twilight and Pinkie.)
Pinkie: Time loop! (laughing) Classic Sunset. (Twilight eats the fry.)
Sunset: But why only me? The only time I was alone was on the hill when I wished— (Pinkie whips over to her.)
Pinkie: —for more wishes? (flashing A-OK sign) Solid choice.
Sunset: This might sound crazy, but… (smiling) …I think Equestrian magic is giving me another chance to see Post Crush. (Mildly confused looks pass between the other two.)
Twilight: Eh, not that crazy.
Pinkie: Eh, seen crazier. (Pause.) Wait! Why didn’t you see Post Crush?
Sunset: Mistakes were made.
Pinkie: (arm around shoulders) Aw, don’t beat yourself up. I promise we’ll see them together tonight, or so help me, I… (Sniff.) …what’s that smell? (Again.) Could it be?
(Deep gasp; cut to her perspective of Puffed at her intact churro cart, offering a platter to a customer. Zoom in to a softly focused close-up of the food as she continues.)
Pinkie: Puffed Pastry’s exclusive star-crusted, cinnamon-dipped churros! (Back to her and Sunset, normal focus; she gets a dirty look and reels herself in.) Now’s probably not the best time to go get one.
(She offers up her batch of crispy starchy goodness with big dopey grin.)
Sunset: It’s not! (Push it back with a sudden forced smile.) Let’s get moving so nothing goes wrong for Post Crush. (Away she goes, followed by a pensive Twilight.)
Pinkie: (to herself) On the other hand, if I get two, then Sunset could have one with me. (resolutely) No! No! I will not give in!
(She squinches her eyes shut and covers them with her free hand, but as before, willpower evaporates with her first look toward the cart. There follows a softly focused, extreme close-up of Puffed loading churros into a paper carton, then a regular-focus shot of the girl whimpering and licking her chops as the conflict rages in her mind. The customer breaks a churro in half…Pinkie whines and bites her fingernails…teeth sink into the dessert…and Pinkie gives up the fight with a moan, the camera zooming out from her face as she throws her fries aside.)
Pinkie: But I can’t resist! (She sprints toward the cart.)
Sunset: Okay, this is the worst possible time for churros!
(Booted feet pound across the grass, and both Puffed and her next customer wisely vacate the cart to make room for Sunset to plant herself in front of it.)
Sunset: Pinkie, stop!
(The order has no effect whatsoever on the sugar connoisseur barreling toward her. Cut to Twilight, who cringes at the sound of both girls’ yells and the camera-shaking crash that marks the destruction of the cart, then to the slowly clearing dust and the guard’s shadow casting itself over its rubble and the dazed teens. He has fared just as badly as the first time around, and Pinkie’s weak giggle shifts his attitude not at all.)
Pinkie: Our bad.
Sunset: (jerking a thumb at her) No, her bad. You saw whose bad it was. Right, sir?
(The exit door is kicked open and both are roughly shoved out, having lost their wristbands—which he has cut away and proceeds to drop on the ground. He returns to his duties, clean and slamming the door shut, and once again the spotlights and cheers/chants assert themselves.)
Announcer: Let me hear three big cheers for two best friends who got back together for one incredible night…
Pinkie: (over end of previous; Sunset glares at her) Maybe you’ll get another another chance.
Announcer: …POOOST CRUUUSH!!
(Tilt up to the moon, which becomes the sun as night dissolves into day, then cut to a close-up of Sunset’s phone on her pillow as it sounds off. She flicks a pair of sleepy eyes toward it; cut to the area outside the motor home, where Twilight/Applejack/Fluttershy/Rarity/Spike are doing the same thing as the last two times around. Sunset, now dressed, emerges and circles to them in time with Twilight’s giggle. She slowly works her way up to a smile.)
Rainbow: (running into view with sign, swinging/hitting Sunset in the rump) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it!
Sunset: (strained, but still smiling) Thank you—ow!—thank you!
Rainbow: Oops. (Chuckle.) Sorry. I’ll be more careful from now on.
(She moves away; cut to the three breakfasters on the start of the following.)
Applejack: So I says to Big Mac— (Close-up of Fluttershy, drinking juice; she continues o.s.) —“Get your own chicken coop!”
(The nature buff chokes on her mouthful and sprays it all over the apple expert; cut to the latter as Fluttershy’s giggle drifts to her and Pinkie zips in.)
Pinkie: What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes? (Show A-OK sign, then dart to Sunset.) Pinkie Pi—
(The time-hopper claps a hand over her mouth to cut her off.)
Sunset: No time for jokes. I’m gonna head out on my own today. (running off) Laters!
Twilight: (calling after her) You okay?
Sunset: (pausing, calling over shoulder) Keep Pinkie Pie busy! (running, waving) Thanks!
Fluttershy: (to Pinkie) But…weren’t you supposed to see Post Crush together?
(The recipient of these words can only stare forlornly off down the trail. Wipe to a close-up of a self-satisfied Sunset approaching the head of one admission line, fresh wristband in place as she is checked through, then zoom in quickly to the other Rainbooms. Dismay and annoyance are present in different proportions on each face; Rainbow has put away her sign, and Applejack has cleaned herself up. Now the loner takes a moment to unfold her map and focus on the main stage.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) SUNSET!
(A panicked glance informs Sunset that the others have made it through the checkpoint, and the sight of Pinkie’s cheery wave sets her running.)
Pinkie: (racing after her) Hey! Wait up! (The chase curves past the contest booth.) Hey!
(She skids to a stop with a long gasp.)
Pinkie: (reading sign) “Win a Tandem Bike”? (She ignores it and continues running.) Sunset!
(Cut to just inside one entrance to the Neon Garden, the camera aimed out at the open space as Sunset pelts by.)
Pinkie: (chasing) SUUUNSEEET!!
(Who slams on the brakes after ducking around one outside corner and gasps for breath, only to have her pursuer pop out from the leaves.)
Pinkie: You found me! (Sunset yelps and rushes away.) Oh, okay! Now I’ll find you!
(As the artist works on setting up one of his two easels, the fugitive charges by and jumps over the other—lying face-down on the grass.)
Pinkie: (chasing her) I’m having fun with my friend! (Trip and fall on her face.) Whoa!
(The two girls sprint past Puffed’s cart, where the chef is mixing up a bowl of batter.)
Pinkie: Sunset!
(She stops and reaches a finger toward the bowl for a taste, but Puffed snatches it away indignantly and shifts herself well out of reach. Pinkie looks around herself, suddenly baffled, and a long overhead shot of the clearing reveals that Sunset is nowhere to be seen.)
Pinkie: Sunset? (Close-up; awful realization begins to set in.) Sunset! Are you…
(All ten fingers clap over her mouth to stifle a gasp; zoom in to an extreme close-up of her face and its two big, shiny, sad eyes.)
Pinkie: …ditching me?
(A nearly inaudible whimper escapes her lips before the camera cuts to the area immediately in front of the empty main stage. Sunset arrives here and drops to her knees with a relieved sigh as a couple of roadies drag in a speaker.)
Sunset: Universe, I promise to make the most of this do-over do-over.
(Snap to black, against which a bank of overhead spotlights flicks on, then cut to another set above the stage being energized. The camera shifts to a point near the back of a considerable crowd that has gathered to see the show and tilts up slowly. An electric guitar and drum kit have been set up against a backdrop of three giant video screens and dozens of small, suspended pink hearts, and night sky can be seen above the stage. Sunset can be seen at the front through a gap in the ranks; cut to a close-up of her, ready for the main event, then to the stage itself. Speakers have been set up to either side of a mixing board, and a hatch opens up between the guitar and drums to admit a burst of pinkish mist and a rising platform on which two young women stand back-to-back, clasping one another’s hands with heads lowered. During the next line, the camera cuts to an extreme close-up of Sunset’s enraptured expression, the duo reflected in her pupils, then back to the stage. They are the same two whose photo she uses in her phone alarm.)
Announcer: (laughing) Let me hear three big cheers for two best friends who got back together for one incredible night!
(The two raise their eyes to the audience; zoom in quickly to a close-up as the video screens flare to life with a pattern of radiating pink hearts and they lean against one another, striking the same poses as on Sunset’s phone. The one on the left, arms crossed and displaying a small enigmatic smile, is Kiwi Lollipop. Light blue skin; bright blue eyes with blue-violet shadow; voluminous wavy hair, tied back, striped two shades of pink with one blue streak; sparkly, sleeveless blue/pink/purple dress with a multi-layered skirt and pale yellow fur at the shoulders; pale blue gem on a purple ribbon at the throat; glittery, dark purple hair bow. The other, grinning broadly with one arm at her side and the other outstretched, is Supernova Zap: pale yellow skin; bright blue eyes; chin-length hair in blue-violet, pink, and pale blue with a matching bow; long-sleeved top in three shades of blue; sparkly pink skirt with lighter edging at the hem; black stockings that reach up past the knee. Pink hearts figure prominently in both performers’ outfits, both above and below the waist, and in the brooches pinned to Supernova’s bow; one is also painted onto each cheek. Footwear cannot be immediately discerned due to the spreading mist.)
Announcer: IT’S POOOST CRUUUSH!! (And the crowd goes wild.)
Sunset: (laughing, jumping in place) I did it! (She adopts Kiwi’s standing posture.) Post Crush roll call!
(Not having Pinkie on hand to support her weight, she overbalances and topples against the next boy over with an embarrassed yelp. Her good spirits quickly return as Kiwi plucks the guitar from its stand and Supernova takes up the drumsticks and sits behind the kit.)
Energetic electric guitar/synthesizer/drum pop/rock melody, fast 4 (A major)
Kiwi’s first word is sung a cappella
Kiwi: (muted) Yeah
(A quick drum fill, and they have begun their set.)
Post Crush: Be the true, true, true original
Dare to be what you are meant to be
(Kiwi makes a pass near the stage edge to touch as many outstretched hands as she can. Now her shoes are visible: deep orange-pink sandals with stacked purple high-heeled soles.)
Working hard, that’s our thing
(Sunset blushes and beams.)
All this way, we’re perfect, perfectly true
True, true original
(She lets herself become lost in the groove.)
True, true original
True, true original
(A slow pan behind the duo frames Supernova’s foot/legwear fully. The stockings are ringed by pink stripes below the knee and lavender/violet ones just above short, blue-ruffled, bright pink ankle-length boots with stacked heels. Kiwi is thrown off for a moment when the head of her guitar brushes against Supernova’s hi-hat cymbal.)
We’re perfect, perfectly true
Song ends
(Kiwi lets fly with her guitar pick—shaped as a pink heart, with a smaller gold one painted at the tip—and Sunset makes a joyous leap to snap it out of the air.)
Sunset: What a perfect day!
(Fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: snap to a close-up of three marshmallows being toasted on the grill near the Rainbooms’ motor home. Two more are laid on as one is removed, and a long shot frames all the girls save Pinkie and Sunset seated around the rig to enjoy a little half-melted sugar. The latter of these approaches, drawing puzzled/disapproving looks from all but Rainbow.)
Rainbow: Heh. There she is! Lone wolf! (Howl; Sunset sits with a blissful sigh.)
Applejack: (pointedly) Pinkie Pie’s been acting mighty strange this evening. Any idea what mighta happened to her? (The latecomer snaps out of her reverie.)
Sunset: (shrugging innocently) We lost track of each other.
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Me? (Pan slightly to frame her sitting at a picnic table a few feet back.) Lose track of Sunset? Ha! But she’s been right here the whole time! Right, actual Sunset Shimmer?
(On the second half of this line, she reaches o.s. and pulls a crude effigy of Sunset to herself, constructed from all manner of odds and ends—including a skewered marshmallow in one hand.)
Pinkie: (nodding its head, “speaking” for it in a deep voice) Right, Pinkie Pie. By the way, your roasting technique is flawless. (own voice, laughing, slightly unhinged) Thanks!
(The other six watch this display of bad crafting and worse impersonation with no small degree of worry. Long, uncomfortable silence.)
Rarity: (acidly, to Sunset) How was the show?
Sunset: It was… (blushing, smiling serenely) …perfect.
Rarity: (scoffing) I was being judgmental, darling. What is the point of throwing shade if no one’s there to catch it? (Sunset plays it off with a shrug.)
Sunset: Sorry. Too blissed out from the show to care right now. Talk tomorrow?
(Rising to her feet, she takes her leave of the discontented quintet around the grill and the badly rattled doll-maker. Tilt up to the crescent moon, which becomes the sun in a cut from night to day, then cut to a slow zoom in on Sunset, once more sleeping by herself in the motor home. Off goes her phone’s alarm, waking her up.)
Sunset: Hmm? (She sits up with a smile—pajamas on—and stretches.) Ahhh!
(Outside; she paces tranquilly across the grass, now dressed for a new day, but stops short upon seeing Rarity primping Spike as she has done every time before. Sweat begins to run down Sunset’s face as the blue-green eyes dart to her other side, where Twilight/Applejack/Fluttershy are having breakfast and Rainbow is adjusting the handle on her sign.)
Sunset: (mind blown) It…can’t be! It’s still—
Rainbow: (running into view, swinging/hitting Sunset in the rump) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it! (Sunset grits her teeth in silent fury.) Oh! Uh, sorry. (walking away) I’ll be more careful from now on.
(Instead of cutting loose with a crushing retort, the target of this carelessness takes a second to compose herself.)
Sunset: (impatiently) Okay, Equestrian magic.
(The background changes around her in a rapidly accelerating tempo on the next line, shifting her to one location after another on the festival grounds.)
Sunset: My…do-over…can…end now!
(The scenery roulette ends with her standing in front of a food truck, from which she stalks away in just a bit of a bad mood. Her feet stop her next to Sandalwood, whose attention is fixed on his phone, and Snips strolls along with snow cone in hand as Snails steps up to order from a truck offering burgers and fries. She speaks in a thoroughly bored tone of voice during the following exchanges.)
Sunset: (to herself) Cue Snips, and push Sandalwood out of the way in three…two…
Snips: (to her) You stage-direct— (Trip, dropping his snack.) —whoa!
(At the same moment, she throws out a palm and shoves the green-dreadlocked eco-kid back so that the snow cone barely misses his shirt and vest. Jolted back to the real world, he walks away.)
Snips: (moaning) You could’ve warned me, you know.
Sunset: Tried that. You called me a witch.
Snips: (gasping, whispering) Are you?
(She just gives him a king-size eye roll and groan and turns to leave, but runs flat into the artist as he carries one of his easels across the field.)
Artist: Hey! Watch it! (Snips stands up…)
Sunset: Sorry. I thought you didn’t come up ’til later. (…and leaves.) I’ll make a note of that for next time. (to herself) Day seventeen, saw paint guy by food truck right before he breaks up with his girlfriend.
(A passing girl stops short at this last, eyes bugging out—the girlfriend in question, doubtless.)
Sunset: (to artist) It’s not you, it’s her. (Girlfriend sobs and runs off.) I’m not a witch. I’m just gonna go. (She matches action to word.)
Artist: Yeah, well, you better run!
(Setting aside the idea of revenge, he hustles after his now-ex-girlfriend as fast as he can go, given his encumbrance.)
Sunset: (scornfully) Run from my problems? (She stops, an idea snapping her out of mental lassitude.) I actually haven’t tried that yet.
(Dissolve to a slow pan across the exterior of the motor home at night. Through the windows, Sunset can be seen climbing into the driver’s seat; the engine rumbles to life, the headlights switch on, and the next shots frame her foot slamming down on the gas pedal and rousing Twilight/Fluttershy/Pinkie/Rainbow from a sound sleep in their bags on the floor. They are in their pajamas, and Twilight has left her glasses folded up within arm’s reach. As the wheeled bunkhouse hurtles down the road under the control of its half-crazed driver, Twilight stumbles up to the passenger seat, now wearing her specs. She lurches forward with a cry, grabbing at the seat back to keep from being thrown down.)
Twilight: Sunset! (sitting, pulling out seat belt) Slow down!
(But Sunset has no intention of doing so, if a cut to road level is any indication. The motor home thunders along, nearly overturning on an S-curve and bringing a chorus of fearful yelps from the passengers. Back to Sunset.)
Sunset: I gotta break outta here somehow!
(Cut to Twilight, now belted into her seat, and zoom out to frame both on the next line.)
Sunset: Maybe if I leave the campgrounds, it’ll finally end! (Pinkie peeks up from a rear seat, also belted in.)
Pinkie: What are you TALKING ABOUT?!?
Sunset: This is all your fault!
(Road level. The vehicle tilts back and forth during its headlong flight, sparking terrified screams from the unwilling fellow travelers, and one pair of wheels jounces heavily over a stone just before a loud backfire emanates from the tailpipe. This is followed by a steady plume of smoke as the motor home coasts to a stop. Dissolve to a slow pan along the shoulder, where they have managed to steer it and climbed out. Applejack lifts the rear end with her magical strength so Rainbow can play a flashlight over the undercarriage; Fluttershy, Rarity, and Spike have fallen asleep, sitting and leaning against each other; Twilight and Pinkie stand over an ashamed/disgusted Sunset, who sits with hands covering her face. All except the deposed driver are in their pajamas.)
Pinkie: (leaning down to her) Are you saying the calendar industry cooked up a conspiracy to make every day today just to save paper?!? (She winds up standing as she finishes.)
Sunset: No, I’m not saying that at all!
Pinkie: (thoughtfully, pacing) You’re right. It’s too obvious.
Sunset: (to Twilight) Sorry to hijack the RV while you were all sleeping, but I’ve tried everything except leaving. (Cut to Twilight.)
Twilight: Hmm. It’s possible a snag in the fabric of space-time could cause a—
Twilight, Sunset: (Sunset from o.s. and very bored) —temporal point, i.e. this day, to fold in on itself and thereby repeat.
(Cut to the jaded would-be runaway on the end of this, putting Twilight out of view, then to both again. Long silence.)
Twilight, Sunset: You really have done this a lot! (Pause.) Okay, you’ve made your point! Stop!
Sunset: (groaning) This time loop started because I missed Post Crush, so why didn’t it end when I saw them?
Twilight: You sure it’s only about Post Crush?
(She glances to one side, the camera panning to frame Pinkie at a short distance with her back turned to the pair.)
Sunset: Uh… (Pinkie turns brightly to them.)
Pinkie: I probably ask you this every day, but what did Princess Twilight say when you told her about this?
Sunset: (thunderstruck, smiling) The journal! Of course! How did I not try that weeks ago?
(The uncertain glances that pass between blue and purple eyes bring a chagrined blush to the yellow-orange cheeks when the camera cuts back to Sunset. Laughter floats down from the o.x. Pinkie; back to her and Twilight.)
Pinkie: Seriously, though, why didn’t you? (She sits next to Sunset in a blink, laying a chummy arm across her shoulders as she continues.) Are you asking yourself, “Self, how’d I spend seventeen days with my best friend Pinkie Pie without asking for help until now?”?
Sunset: (small voice) Uh…
Twilight: (dryly) Still think this is only about Post Crush?
(The camera shifts from Pinkie’s happy smile to Sunset’s apprehensive frown, then cuts to frame all seven on the start of the next line. Applejack has set the motor home down and pulled out her phone, and Rainbow has put away her flashlight.)
Applejack: Bad news. Transmission’s shot. (Screen tap.) Repairs ain’t gonna be cheap. (Rainbow yawns and stretches.) Tow truck says he’ll need cash tomorrow. (Pinkie now lies on her back, legs propped vertically on a stretch of bushes.)
Sunset: (sighing wearily) Tomorrow? Sure. Tell him I’ll give him a million bucks if I see him.
(She lets her head fall onto her knees and gets a reassuring pat from Pinkie. Cut to a long shot of the less-than-magnificent seven and their disabled ride, then dissolve to it and them right back on their campsite the next morning. Business as usual with Twilight/Applejack/Fluttershy/Rarity/Spike out here, and the same proves true with a cut to the interior. This time around, the camera points from the foot end of Sunset’s bunk toward the head and is at such a height to leave her out of view. The sound of her phone’s alarm breaks the silence.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) Huh?
(She chooses to shut it off by throwing it up to bounce off a window in the back wall and adds a long, pained moan. Outside, she emerges in her full outfit and circles toward the others, magic journal tucked under one arm. Cut to Rainbow, rounding the corner with sign in hand.)
Rainbow: (swinging/hitting Sunset in the rump) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it!
Sunset: (glowering, rubbing spot) Ow!
Rainbow: Oops. Heh. Sorry. I- I’ll be more careful from now on.
Sunset: No, Rainbow Dash, you won’t! Every day you say that, but you never are! Why won’t you change?
(Long, scared silence from Rainbow.)
Rainbow: (backing away slowly) Oooo-kay.
Pinkie: (from o.s.) What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes? (She pops up next to Sunset.) Pinkie Pie!
(Sunset manages not to scream Pinkie stupid as she is unceremoniously ushered away. Wipe to a slow pan through the lounge tent as seen in “Festival Filters,” in which a few attendees are chilling out in their own ways. The two girls have commandeered a low table, and the journal lies open before them. Sunset is writing at a breakneck pace as Pinkie takes a pull at a frothy drink. Close-up.)
Pinkie: So you think Princess Twilight can help you with this temporal loop thingie?
(Sunset sets her pen aside during this, then looks over her lines as Pinkie eats the cherry from her drink.)
Sunset: (sighing, closing journal) I sure hope so.
(The fun-lover slurps again, the camera cutting to point up at them both and frame one edge of the closed tome. A series of three dissolves shifts them through various idle positions, boredom growing all the time; however, Pinkie never takes her lips off that straw. One the fourth iteration, the book starts to buzz and vibrate with an incoming message and the cover flips open on its own, instantly revving them. White light pours up from the pages, growing to fill the screen and then subsiding to present a long overhead shot of the throne room in the Castle of Friendship, in Ponyville. Princess Twilight sits at the edge of the bare central table, stacks of books/scrolls to either side, and is writing in her journal with a quill held in her magic. Zoom in slowly.)
Princess Twilight: (dictating) “Sunset—” (Close-up.) “—I’ve been doing some research, and it looks like you’ve found another long-lost Equestrian artifact.”
(She floats and opens a scroll on this sentence; back to Pinkie and Sunset.)
Sunset: (sourly) Lucky me.
(The throne room again, a close-up of the table. Now the journal’s pages are crammed with notes, diagrams, and a picture of a gold-framed oval device set with three stars and an open eye. A stylized horn protrudes from one end, while a pair of wings sprouts from the other to spread along the length. The scroll bears further sketches of this piece, front and back, and a stopwatch.)
Princess Twilight: (from o.s.) “The Time Twirler. I don’t know how it found its way into your world, but when activated, it has the power to loop time.”
(As she speaks these words, her quill drags itself over the material on the scroll to highlight it in the manner of clicking and dragging a computer mouse cursor, then creates a copy of the lot and deposits it on a blank page. Back to Pinkie, who has put her drink aside, and Sunset.)
Twilight: (voice over) “What you’re experiencing isn’t simply magic run amuck—” (The journal pages; the Time Twirler rotates slowly within its picture, blinks, and splays its feathers.) “—or a wish gone awry. Somepony is using the Time Twirler to cause this.”
Sunset: If we find whoever used the Time Twirler to start the loop, we’ll be able to end it for good! (setting journal down) Tell the others we’ve got a new mission.
(Dissolve to the Rainbooms crossing the festival grounds at sunset. Rainbow is not carrying her sign.)
Rainbow: That was just a little preview of the rad-tacular— (She fades out under Pinkie’s next words.)
Pinkie: (to Sunset) Whoever has the Time Twirler is the only person besides you who isn’t in the same place, doing the same thing every day. (She circles to face Sunset, walking backwards to keep pace.) Have you noticed anyone who doesn’t belong? Anyone out of place? Anyone... (intensely; screen narrows to a close-up of her face.) …evil?!?
(Fullscreen; all seven have now stopped.)
Sunset: I don’t think so. How could I? Every day is the same!
(Bon Bon and Lyra Heartstrings stroll past, hand in hand.)
Bon Bon, Lyra: (singing) Every day’s the same
(fading out) Did we lose the magic, magic…
Sunset: (over previous) It goes around and ’round. (A thought strikes.) Wait. What was that?
(The artist jogs by, listening to an MP3 player through earphones.)
Artist: (singing) ’Round and ’round and ’round and ’round
(Sunset’s thought turns a few new colors and grows some hair, prompting her to run after the redhead.)
Artist: ’Round and ’round and—
(She catches up, pulling one earphone loose to stop him.)
Sunset: (putting it to her own ear) Hey, what are you listening to?
Artist: (jerking thumb ahead) Meh.
(Cut to a long shot of a performance stage, smaller than the one on which Post Crush performed. It is wreathed in sparkly greenish fog and has drawn a few dozen cheering spectators. The artist heads toward this, having fully reclaimed his player, while the Rainbooms hang well back.)
Quiet synthesizer chords, moderate 4; lyrics echo slightly (C major)
Same melody as in the “Find the Magic” short
Dazzlings: So ordinary, stuck on repeat
Gotta find the passion, passion, passion
Sunset: (over second line) I think we’ve got a clue.
(All seven beat feet to the back of the audience and voice a round of flabbergasted gasps, the camera shifting to a close-up of Applejack/Pinkie/Rarity.)
Closed hi-hat on every second beat; soft synth melody in
Dazzlings: The days go ’round and ’round, ’round and ’round
Gotta break away, find a great escape
’Round and ’round and ’round, ’round and ’round and ’round
Oh-h
(The following exchange is overlaid on these four lines.)
Pinkie: They must be a last-minute addition! (Sunset starts trying to peek through from behind.)
Sunset: Who? (Pan to frame Twilight/Fluttershy/Rainbow on Applejack’s other side.)
Rainbow: But they lost their voices! (Sunset peeks between her and Applejack.) They gotta be using magic!
Applejack: That or vocal processing.
Rainbow: They wouldn’t! (Pause.) Wait, what am I talking about? Of course they would.
Sunset: (shoving forward through them; zoom out) Who are you talking about?!?
(Now it is her turn to gasp in shock; cut in turn to an extreme close-up of each Dazzling’s face and the microphone she holds as a spotlight illuminates it. Sonata Dusk is first, then Aria Blaze, and finally Adagio Dazzle.)
Cymbal roll; bass synth in; vocal harmonies behind lyrics
Dazzlings: Let’s find, let’s find
Let’s find the magic
Sunset: (incredulously; zoom in slowly on her) The Dazzlings are back?
(They are wearing the same outfits as in “Find the Magic.”)
Dazzlings: Let’s find the magic
Song pauses
(Snap to black at the same time, an instant after a wink from Sonata.)
Act Four
Song resumes with a cymbal roll; bass/melody synths and hi-hat out
Vocal harmonies only, followed by end of song
(Opening shot: snap to a long overhead shot of the stage as the three singers sing this final portion, then to a slow pan across the scene from the back of the crowd. A close-up reveals that their attitudes have shifted right back where they were in Rainbow Rocks. Aria and Sonata slot their microphones back into the stands, but Adagio uses hers to amplify only the first sentence of her next line.)
Adagio: (sighing contemptuously) That song’s called “Find the Magic.” (under her breath, holding mic at arm’s length) Human scum.
(She lets it drop, setting off a whine of feedback, and all three grin nastily as they exit stage left.)
Sunset: Seriously?
Rarity: (dismissively) The chord progression is kind of samey-samey.
Sunset: And the Dazzlings are behind the time loop!
Rarity: (singsong, toying with her hair) Still no excuse for lazy songwriting.
Rainbow: So what are we gonna do?
(Sunset answers that one by starting to pace. Cut to the entrance to a fenced-in backstage area; the guard from the front gate hooks a velvet rope across it once the Dazzlings have passed through. Snips and Snails run up, the former carrying a rolled-up poster, but stop cold upon seeing the man on duty. Back to the Rainbooms.)
Sunset: New mission—we have to get backstage.
Twilight: Our backstage passes are only good for day two, and you’re not a VIP. (Sunset groans, hand to forehead.)
Pinkie: (to her) You’re a V-Important-P to me.
Sunset: (pointing ahead) The key is getting past him.
(On this last word, zoom out quickly to frame Snails trying to sweet-talk his way past the impassive guard. The next shot frames these two and Snips, who has unrolled his poster.)
Snips: Uh…uh, we just want an autograph.
(But all he gets is a firm shake of the head, which sends both boys fleeing in tears. Slow pan across the girls, the next three lines overlapping with an unnerved mumble from Twilight.)
Fluttershy: He’s terrible.
Rainbow: Yikes.
Rarity: Oh, my.
Pinkie: (determinedly, interlocking/flexing fingers to crack knuckles) The weak shall crumble before me! (striding ahead) I got this!
Sunset: Wait! (She darts up; Pinkie stops.) If you want to help, let me come up with a plan. (Pinkie moves on, unnoticed.) No distractions, no detours, no—
(She cuts herself off upon finally realizing that the party ace has bailed out.)
Sunset: (deflated, following her) —walking off while I’m talking to you.
(Pinkie inspects the guard closely from a number of angles, even bringing a magnifying glass into play for a moment, and then strolls casually up to him.)
Pinkie: Last summer, weren’t you working at the, um…
Guard: Cat food convention.
Pinkie: (not quite in synch with him) Cat food convention? (nodding happily) Oh, that’s right, mmm-hmm! (She rests a hand on one of his crossed forearms.) Uh, you were the guy who, um…
Guard: (dryly) Yeah. I…got…FIRED!! (Pinkie backs off.)
Pinkie: Because, mmm…now, what happened again? (The other girls cross to the scene.)
Guard: I tried taking a kitten home with me, all right? But that’s against the rules!
Sunset: (to herself, clapping hand to face) Ugh! If she blows this thing, I’ll have to start all over tomorrow!
(Pinkie weighs her options very carefully before speaking next.)
Pinkie: Was it an orange cat?
Guard: (unhinged) TUXEDO!! ASK ME HER NAME!! SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!
(She manages to completely miss both Sunset’s frantic attempt to drag her back and the other five’s panicked “drop it” gestures and head shakes.)
Pinkie: What was her n—
(Extreme close-up of her wristband being cut off, then cut to her and Twilight standing outside the open exit door and zoom out to frame all seven. The entire group has been ejected this time, and the guard shuts them out and himself in. Night has fallen, and Sunset aims a glare at Pinkie that would vaporize a diamond if one were handy.)
Pinkie: (moaning sadly) I guess I don’t got this.
(As she whimpers out her misery, Sunset finds her own disgusted attitude softening quite against her will—and it even turns into a grin of inspiration as she steps over.)
Sunset: You don’t, but together, we do. (Pink hands clasp the offered yellow-orange ones.) For a time looper, today’s failure is tomorrow’s success.
(Her positivity has spread to Pinkie by the time she finishes. Cut to a close-up of Sunset’s phone sounding its alarm on her pillow. She deactivates it and wraps a set of fingers around it, sitting up in her bunk within the motor home. A smile of newfound determination crosses her face as she throws off her sleeping bag and bounds away; an instant later she is outside, having traded pajamas for civvies, and crossing to the breakfast gathering as Rainbow runs up with her sign.)
Rainbow: Starswirled, day one! (swinging/hitting Sunset’s rump) Come and get it!
(The unintended target gives her a flat look and rubs the spot.)
Rainbow: Heh. Sorry.
(Off she goes. Cut to the breakfast gathering; a giggling Fluttershy has just spat her juice all over Applejack in response to the chicken coop story.)
Fluttershy: Oh! Sorry. (Here come Pinkie and Sunset.)
Pinkie: What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes?
(Display A-OK sign, then get seized by the wrist and dragged off by Sunset before she can deliver the punchline.)
Pinkie: Whoa!
(Sunset steps in the mud…the admission lines move along…a bag is presented and checked…Sunset gets her wristband…the Dazzlings finish their sunset performance.)
Adagio: (under her breath, dropping microphone) Human scum.
(The three exit stage left to the sound of wild cheers and head backstage, the guard securing the entrance behind them. Here come Snips and Snails with their poster, which Snips unrolls once the camera cuts to the three males.)
Snips: Uh, w-we just want an autograph.
(They are rejected as before and run off crying. Now, though, the guard cocks an eyebrow and gasps softly as the camera zooms in slightly toward his face. Cut to Pinkie and Sunset as they make their calm approach and pass the two fleeing boys. Sunset is carrying a wicker basket, decorated with a large pink bow, that holds a small kitten with white ears/chest and dark gray everything else—one variation of the “tuxedo” coloration pattern. The guard’s jaw drops slowly to full extension, but Sunset just cocks one eyebrow and walks straight up to him. He claps both hands to his mouth to hold in what might be a most unprofessional scream of joy as Pinkie brings up the rear.)
Sunset: (as the kitten meows) Say hello to Hattie the kitty cat.
(The big guy carefully scoops the animal out of the basket and cuddles it to his cheek, receiving a gentle purr and lick in close-up.)
Guard: (on the verge of tears) Hello, Mr. Kitty. (Back to Pinkie and Sunset on the following; the basket has been set aside.)
Sunset: If you spend all your time keeping people out, how are you ever gonna let anybody in… (Zoom in slightly.) …to your heart?
Guard: Oh, gosh. (unhooking velvet rope) Go ahead and go backstage, the both of youse. (They do so.)
Pinkie: Really? Wow, thanks!
(He sets the barrier back in place behind them and instantly makes Hattie the full focus of his affection.)
Pinkie: Great idea, Sunset!
Sunset: We came up with it together.
(Cut to an overhead shot of a van parked on a dirt trail just behind the stage amid a few scattered equipment crates. The color scheme is not particularly appealing, striped in browns/greens/grays and marked on its hood and passenger side with several spray-painted copies of the gem from Adagio’s boots. Pinkie and Sunset approach it, but stop short at the sound of a clicking door latch, and the camera cuts to ground level. The driver’s side, facing them, is stenciled with a string of large yellow/orange letters instead of gems. The girls scramble for cover behind the crates and get clear an instant before a sliding door opens on the driver’s side. Sonata climbs out, then Aria.)
Sonata: Ooh, that was our best show yet!
Aria: The loop is really working. (Adagio emerges.)
Adagio: Of course it’s working. It was my idea.
(Pan quickly to Pinkie and Sunset in their hiding place.)
Sunset: I knew it! I bet they’re hiding the Time Twirler somewhere in their tour bus.
Pinkie: Nice thinking! Also… (They peek over the top of a crate.) …looks more like a tour van to me.
(Comes now the sound of the door being slid shut; Sunset ducks out of sight and pulls her down so that they go unseen by the departing Dazzlings. With the coast now clear, the investigators quit their vantage point and cross to the van. Sunset opens the door.)
Sunset: (climbing in) Stay here and stand guard. If you see anyone coming, sound the alarm. (Close the door.)
Pinkie: You got it! (pacing around van) No one’s gonna get by me! No way, nohow! Nuh-uh, nope! Nah, nah, nah!
(The owners of said vehicle make their way across the grounds, but Adagio’s sudden stop brings the others up short as well.)
Adagio: Wait. Did one of you remember to take the bread out of the toaster?
Aria: (pointedly, to Sonata) It’s not my job to not start fires
Sonata: (scoffing) How was I supposed to know you can’t put tacos in the toaster?
Adagio: Ugh! You two are so annoying! Let’s go.
(They head back the way they came; meanwhile, Pinkie has kept up her patrol around the van.)
Pinkie: (intently) Keeping watch. That’s what I— (Stop; sniff the air as vapors waft toward her.) —what’s that smell? (Deep inhalation.) Could it be?
(Pan quickly to a long shot of Puffed’s cart, which is doing a lively business, and zoom out to frame Pinkie watching it from the fore. A tiny funny happy noise escapes her throat.)
Pinkie: Puffed Pastry’s exclusive star-crusted, cinnamon-dipped churros! Ooh…now’s probably not the best time to go get one. (A moment’s thought.) On the other hand, if I get two, then Sunset could have one with me. (fiercely) No! I will not give in!
(But she almost immediately does, voicing an ecstatic shudder and licking her chops as she races toward the cart. Just as quickly, she backs up with arms extended as if to ward it off.)
Pinkie: No, no, no! (Another shuddery rush…) So good… (…and back off.) No, no!
(The third time is the charm for the “feed me” center of her brain, and she does not return from this run toward the cart. Inside the van, Sunset has found a kitchen counter equipped with a sink, stove burner, and various small cooking aids. Nothing seems out of order here, so she turns to a couch and lifts away a pillow only to find it innocuous.)
Sunset: Not here… (Check a drawer.) …no…
(Inspect a cabinet with a grown, then pick up a toaster while wearing oven mitts.)
Sunset: …oh, where is it?
(The appliance proceeds to pop up two slices of toast, surprising a grunt out of her—evidently both Aria and Sonata neglected to clear the slots.)
Sunset: Who leaves toast in a toaster? Honestly!
(The door is run open to frame three rather put-out Dazzlings.)
Adagio: Don’t even think about eating our toast, Sunset Shimmer!
(The foiled sleuth hastily sets the toaster back on the counter and shakes off the mitts with a forced laugh. Cut to her perspective, zooming in quickly past Adagio/Aria to a close-up of Pinkie picking up an order of churros to go. She sighs angrily; back to her.)
Sunset: I was wrong. This is the worst possible time for churros.
Adagio: What are you doing on our bus?
Sunset: Sorry-not-sorry, Adagio, but it’s time to take this track off repeat. (pointing) I heard you admit the time loop was your idea.
Adagio: Time loop? What? (smiling) We looped a vocal track.
(The Dazzlings laugh, but Sunset cuts them off by jumping out and clamping five fingers around Adagio’s wrist. Her eyes burn pure white to mark the use of her telepathy-by-touch.)
Adagio: Hey! (The power fades.)
Sunset: (reluctantly) You’re telling the truth.
Adagio: (yanking loose) Of course I am!
Sunset: But your song! “Every day is the same”! (Close-up of Adagio.)
Adagio: That’s about being stuck in this miserable human world with no magic or hope of returning to Equestria! (Pan to Aria on the next line.)
Aria: And by the way, if there’s Equestrian magic afoot around here, we call dibs.
Sunset: I thought if anyone would want to be able to redo the day and fix their mistakes, it’s you three.
Adagio: We made the mistake of using our powers to manipulate Canterlot High School, and we’ve paid the price for it—with our magic. (Sonata leans in.)
Sonata: Unless you count the magic of vocal processing.
Adagio: Which I don’t!
(Both listeners recoil under the ferocity of these three words; now Adagio takes a second to collect herself before going on.)
Adagio: What I’m saying is— (Zoom in slowly.) —we already get a do-over with every new day. (smiling unpleasantly) It’s called “living life.”
Sonata: You should try it sometime. (Laughs from the Dazzlings.)
Sunset: I can’t!
Aria: (mockingly) Poor Sunset Shimmer. Are you mad?
Sunset: I don’t get a new day, okay? I get this day forever! Nothing changes! I can’t tell you how sick I am of Pinkie Pie ruining everything by running off to get churros! I hate churros!
(The camera cuts to frame all four, the Dazzlings stunned into a momentary silence by this outburst. Pinkie’s legs can be seen in a gap between theirs.)
Pinkie: Oh. (They step aside to reveal her, plate of goodies in hand; zoom in.) I, uh, just wanted to say the Dazzlings are back, but I see you see they see you’ve seen them and you’ve seen me too, so, um…see you.
(By the time she finishes, she has separately stowed both the plate and a fistful of churros in her hair. She then turns away sobbing.)
Pinkie: Cool tour bus! (Run off.)
Sunset: No, Pinkie! I didn’t mean it!
Adagio: If the day’s always the same, maybe you’re the one who needs to change.
(The three climb into the van. Cut to an overhead shot and zoom out slowly as it rolls out, Aria at the wheel, and fade to black.)
Act Five
(Opening shot: fade in to Sunset chasing Pinkie past the main stage and drawing murmurs from those nearby. Cut briefly to an extreme close-up of Sunset’s hand touching Pinkie’s shoulder to arrest her motion for the start of the next line, then to both.)
Sunset: Pinkie Pie, wait up!
(The distraught girl shakes off the hand and turns to hide her tightly shut, watering eyes.)
Sunset: (sighing) I’m sorry.
Pinkie: It’s okay! (wiping away tears) Did you convince the Dazzlings to break the time loop?
Sunset: No. It wasn’t them. (Pinkie stops crying.)
Pinkie: Oh. Well, I’m gonna find a nice line to wait in so I don’t ruin it for you again. (sobbing again) You deserve to have a good day, Sunset!
(She runs off, whimpering as the waterworks kick up again.)
Sunset: (sadly) So do you, Pinkie Pie.
(Eyes widen as a connection falls together in her mind. Wipe to a close-up of her phone on her pillow; its alarm goes off to wake her up from her bunk inside the motor home, and she sits up and shuts it off with a smile. Outside, the morning proceedings are going as before; out she comes, pajamas switched for street clothes. Morning has come.)
Rainbow: (running into view with sign, swinging it) Starswirled, day one! Come and get it!
(This time, the wood meets only empty air because Sunset has ducked out of its way.)
Sunset: Not today!
Applejack: (to Fluttershy) …“Get your own chicken coop!” (Fluttershy does her spit take and giggles; Pinkie zips up.)
Pinkie: What do you call a Post Crush fan with three eyes? (Show A-OK sign; Sunset steps in.)
Sunset: (singsong) You call her Pinkie Pie— (hugging/twirling her away) —because you spell your name with three I’s!
Fluttershy: Ohhhhhh! (Chuckle.) Puns.
(Applejack rolls her eyes at the bad joke. Wipe to a close-up of the mud puddle that has gotten the better of Sunset time and time again on the hike to the festival grounds—but not today, as she plants both feet squarely on the dry ground to either side.)
Sunset: In your face, mud!
Twilight: Uh, you okay?
Sunset: (calmly, passing her) Never better.
(She strolls up to the gate and stops long enough for Pinkie to zip onto the asphalt.)
Pinkie: A line? (grabbing Sunset’s shoulders) Ah! This day’s already amazing!
Sunset: I know! (arm around Pinkie’s shoulders) Pick whichever one you want. They’re all slow. But security is an art. It can’t be rushed.
(The guard looks up from his bag inspection and shoots a fist in her direction with a knowing smile—he has heard her loud and clear—and the camera zooms out quickly to put her smirking visage in the fore. She lifts a fist to head level in silent acknowledgment, is swiftly issued a wristband, and trades a fist bump with him before running through the gate. A few steps bring her to the rest of the Rainbooms, including a clean Applejack, whereupon the drapes an arm across Pinkie’s shoulders and turns her head to look in a particular direction. Cut to their perspective and zoom in quickly on the contest stand with its tandem bicycle, drawing a deep gasp from Pinkie, then back to the pair.)
Pinkie: (reading sign) “Win a Tandem Bicycle”?
(She peels out with enough speed to blow the others’ hair sideways, and Sunset gets her own legs in gear to catch up.)
Applejack: (calling after them) You two have fun now!
(Pinkie is hunching down to the jar of jellybeans in short order.)
Pinkie: All I have to do is guess how many candies are in the jar— (singsong) —and my sugar senses say…three hundred and five!
(She stands up, but slumps over with a crushed moan upon getting buzzed out by the attendant as on her first try. Now Sunset strolls up.)
Sunset: Five hundred seventy-two and a half, counting the green jellybean you ate part of in the parking lot.
(The attendant gives a start of surprise, at both the exact guess and her knowledge of that hidden detail, and Pinkie’s spirits rise again. Dissolve to a stretch of the grounds, through which the girls ride on the bicycle they have just won—Sunset up front, Pinkie behind, both wearing helmets.)
Pinkie: Whee!
Sunset: Whoa!
(Both trail off into laughter as they screech to a halt at one entrance to the Neon Garden. An instant later they are laughing and running in, helmets gone and Sunset leading Pinkie by the hand. The frizzy-haired teen gasps at the sight of the lights that festoon every bit of greenery, then offers a grateful smile to her fellow explorer. Wipe to another stretch of the maze; still laughing, they run/cartwheel back and forth and pop out from passages on opposite sides.)
Pinkie: Oh, Sunset!
(Wipe to a photo booth elsewhere in the Neon Garden. Sunset stops near it and beckons Pinkie on; inside, they crowd onto the bench, Pinkie pulls the curtain shut, and they wave to the camera. A flash fills the screen and clears to show two strips of four pictures each being dispensed, capturing the girls in a range of silly poses. Pinkie plucks these away, and the two share a long laugh while standing outside the booth.)
(Wipe to the entrance at which they stopped. They run out, Sunset leading Pinkie by the wrist, and stop in front of the artist’s easels. The photos have been pocketed. Sunset lets go with a shrill whistle, drawing a smirk from the man with the paint balloons, and both targets start laughing all over again as he unloads a brightly hued barrage at them. One pair of impacts fills the screen with a slosh of purple paint, which drains away to change the scene to the bathroom. Sunset stands wiping her face at the mirror, while Pinkie opens a stall door and emerges, showing off the Rarity-face/mustache smear from earlier iterations. Both girls are now free of paint—at least until Sunset lowers her paper towel to show off a purple smudge on her upper lip that is a close match for the one in the accidental painting. Pinkie laughs at the imitation.)
(Dissolve to a long shot of the main stage at sunset, a few festival-goers hanging around and doing nothing of importance. Pinkie and Sunset walk up, arm in arm; Sunset’s face is clean.)
Pinkie: This is the best day ever! (Both stop.) And now for the grand finale— (Sunset turns her toward an encroaching tendril of steam.) —Post…
(She never gets to the second half of the band name, as she has drawn the vapor into her lungs.)
Pinkie: What’s that smell?
Sunset: You’ll see. Follow me.
Puffed: (from o.s., under previous two lines, voice raised) Puffed Pastry’s exclusive Starswirled cinnamon-swirled churros!
(Cut to her at the cart on the end of this, platter in hand.)
Puffed: Get them while they’re marginally fresher than a little bit!
(On the end of this, two boys approach and the camera cuts to them as she hands over a loaded carton. Pinkie and Sunset step up, the former gasping in sheer disbelief as the boys clear off.)
Pinkie: (turning Sunset’s face to hers, squashing her cheeks) How did you know?
Sunset: (to Puffed, muffled, raising two fingers) Two, please.
(The orders are boxed up and given out, and the dessert lover allows herself a long inhalation of the heavenly odor.)
Sunset: You know, when I did things alone my way, I realized having a perfect day wasn’t perfect without… (Cut to Pinkie, nuzzling the carton; she continues o.s.) …you. (Lower it.)
Pinkie: Awww…
(Both pull a churro and tap them together in a toast—generating an oddly solid clank in the process that is repeated when Sunset bites down. She pulls it out, intact, but Pinkie manages to chomp cleanly through hers and goes on eating.)
Sunset: Ow!
Pinkie: Mmm-mmm!
Sunset: (over previous line) Mine’s hard s a rock. This is like eating a crowbar.
(Now her fellow traveler hits one of that consistency and giggles after failing to make a dent with her teeth.)
Pinkie: I know!
(She tries to nibble it like corn on the cob, drawing a very funny look from Sunset. On the next line, the camera tracks slowly around her to reveal Puffed being addressed by an angry young man clad in white dress shirt and black bow tie, vest, and pants. He has drawn “gofer” duty.)
Gofer: Your lousy golf cart broke down on me for the last time! Find someone else to deliver churros backstage to Post Crush, because I quit!
(As he finishes, he pulls a key ring from his pocket and throws it down, the camera cutting to a close-up—churro-shaped. He storms off, Puffed scowling after him and Pinkie/Sunset exchanging freshly bewildered looks. Wipe to the two girls laughing and riding their tandem bike through the grounds, positioned and helmeted as before. Pinkie now stands up from the rear seat, and a double order of churros rests in the basket mounted up front. Close-up of her.)
Pinkie: See what happens when you embrace the chaos of our friendship? (Pan to Sunset.)
Sunset: This couldn’t happen with all of the mission planning in the world.
(They slew to a stop near a tour bus that can only belong to Post Crush—glittery purple paint job, yellow stripe wrapping around the perimeter under the windows, contoured lettering within a stylized blue/pink hair bow on one side, heart-shaped lights above the windshield. Sunset removes her helmet.)
Pinkie: Ooh, I hope they like us! You must have met them on one of the other days. Tell me what happens!
Sunset: (laughing) Nope. First time. (thumping Pinkie’s back gently) And I’m glad it’s with the other half of my dynamic duo. You ready?
(She retrieves one carton from the basket and holds it out. Cut to a close-up of the bus’s closed door as she reaches up into view and knocks, then to just inside. Kiwi’s hand pushes it open to frame the two new gofers, Pinkie offering the churros and no longer wearing her helmet.)
Sunset: Special delivery!
Pinkie: We are huge, huge, ginormous fans! (Supernova joins Kiwi at the door.)
Supernova: (to Kiwi, suspiciously) Heeeey. The usual delivery guy looks like two girls today.
(This comment draws an irked glance and an elbow in the ribs from her bandmate.)
Supernova: (trying to play it off) I mean, today is the first time we have done this. Yesterday was, um, a different day.
(Kiwi puts a hand to her face as if to say “is that really the best you can do?” Sunset’s grin begins to show a bit of strain, but Pinkie’s remains as bright as ever.)
Sunset: Today can be a funny thing.
Kiwi: (scoffing; she and Supernova step off bus) Word. Thanks for being fans, but we gotta, you know, get onstage.
Pinkie: (half-hiding behind Sunset) Of course! We don’t want to keep you. (aside, impatiently) Come on, Sunset!
(The flame-haired teen shakes loose and smiles again.)
Sunset: Uh, but before you go on— (extending a hand) —at least give me the honor of shaking your hand—
(Cut to the duo with backs turned, framing Kiwi from behind for the first time. The Twirler is attached to the knot of her hair bow, its central eye closed. They are walking away, but stop and turn at the next words.)
Sunset: (from o.s.) —as a thank-you for all your music and— (All four again; she inches closer.) —anything else you might have done to me— (catching herself) —I mean, for me.
Kiwi: (smiling, offering a hand) Anything for a fan.
(The two sets of fingers curl around each other, the screen flaring white and clearing to present a flashback of the pop star’s memories playing in the former unicorn’s mind. It is nighttime, and Kiwi and Supernova are crossing a bridge over a stream. All spoken lines in this sequence echo slightly.)
Kiwi: Tomorrow has to be perfect! We’ve only got one shot at this! (Faint pulses of light play across them, emanating from ground level.)
Supernova: Ugh! As if I’m not super-duper aware, K-Lo!
(Four eyes turn toward the source, which proves to be the Twirler lying on the stones of the path. Both kneel over the item, Kiwi scooping it up tentatively.)
Supernova: Oooooh!
(The eye opens and goes blinding white, filling the screen with its energy. This subsides to put them in the main stage, instruments at the ready.)
Repeat of Act Two song
Kiwi: (muted) Yeah
(A quick drum fill, and they have begun their set.)
Post Crush: Be the true, true, true original
(A guitar string snaps; Kiwi scowls and taps the horn of the Twirler, now mounted on her bow. It activates and resets the scene.)
Dare to be what you are meant to be
Working hard, that’s our thing
(A punctured bass drum head on Supernova’s kit prompts another reboot.)
All this way, we’re perfect, perfectly true
(Flash from one slow-motion blooper to the next: broken drumstick…dropped guitar pick…sneeze by Supernova…broken heel on Kiwi’s sandal.)
True, true original
True, true original
(A close-up of the activated Twirler slides in to replace this last; its flare clears to show them having finished the song and taking bows as the audience cheers.)
Song fades out
(The smiles fade as Kiwi wheels toward Supernova.)
Kiwi: (viciously) Ugh! Your voice, so flat. (Scoff.) I can’t.
Supernova: (groaning) Whatever! We can just do it all over again.
(Cue another use of the artifact, followed by a swirl of color that brings the action back to the here and now. Sunset lets go of Kiwi and stumbles back with a horrified gasp.)
Sunset: You found the Time Twirler! You’re the ones causing the time loop! (Pinkie drops the churros she holds and claps hands to mouth.)
Supernova: Pause. How did you see my brain?
Kiwi: We’re gonna loop our show ’til it’s perfect! A fangirl like you wouldn’t get it.
Supernova: Unless you’re such a fangirl, you do get it.
Kiwi: (dismissively, to her) You know fans can never get it.
Sunset: But I do. I wanted things to go perfectly, too, but now I know they never do.
Supernova: Then we stop “never”!
Kiwi: (smugly, pacing) And now that we know you’re in on our little secret, you’ll never set foot inside this festival again.
Sunset: Go ahead. Take our pictures and hang them up. Tomorrow morning they’ll all disappear.
Kiwi: Ever heard of drawings? (Supernova pushes past the two Wondercolts.)
Sunset: Everything resets!
Supernova: You don’t, and neither do we. Now that I’ve seen your faces… (Pull out a sheet of paper; draw furiously, using Kiwi’s back as a table.) …I’m an art school dropout, and you better believe I can draw your faces so good, guards will ban you at the gate from now until forever!
(Cut to the gobsmacked teens on the end of this, the pen flashing across the sheet in the fore, then back to her as she finishes. What she holds up is a crude, brightly colored caricature of the pair, a malicious smile on Pinkie’s face and a rancorous frown on Sunset’s.)
Kiwi: Forever-ever!
Pinkie: (anguished, grabbing at Sunset) No! (Supernova shifts it behind her back.)
Kiwi: Yeah, she can.
Supernova: (nodding) Mmm-hmm. (calling o.s., pointing at Pinkie/Sunset) Security! We got a Code Chartreuse crazy fan alert!
(Two familiar legs step into view, and the “crazy fans” turn to find everyone’s favorite guard right behind them. They trade fearful looks before the view cuts to them being shoved out the exit door and into the nighttime periphery of the grounds. Their wristbands have been cut away.)
Sunset: How are you gonna let anyone in if you keep kicking people out?
(The end of this line is muffled somewhat by the door being slammed in her face, but her words touch off a pang of regret in the brain under the buzz cut. Cut to Pinkie and Sunset.)
Sunset: (hands to head) Tonight is my last chance to stop this before I get banned for life!
(Snap to black.)
Act Six
(Opening shot: snap to the starry night sky and tilt down to stop on the pair, Sunset pacing nervously.)
Sunset: (sighing) Think fast, Sunset. Come on, think! (Pause; point here and there toward the trees.) Okay…if we climb up this tree, attach a rope there, and swing over and… (deflating, sighing) …who am I kidding? (She crumples to the ground in a heap.) I’m done for.
(Now she goes the rest of the way, flopping onto her back, and Pinkie sits alongside.)
Pinkie: At least we’ll be together.
Sunset: You know what? (smiling) That actually makes being trapped at an eternal music festival seem not half bad.
(A blush tinges the pink cheeks, and its owner settles onto her back with a contented sigh. She adds a second one after sniffing at the air, then brightens upon running a little more of it through her nose. A churro protrudes from one of Sunset’s jacket pockets, perhaps dislodged in her flop.)
Pinkie: What’s that smell? (Still more; then she sits up.) Could it be?
(Blue eyes flick toward the pocket, sparking a gasp; close-up of it and the tough treat.)
Pinkie: (from o.s., plucking it away) Puffed Pastry’s exclusive star-crusted, cinnamon-dipped churros! (Back to her on the end of this; both stand up.)
Sunset: Oh, yeah. Um, it was a little too…inedible for my taste.
(All four eyes turn to it, then to the door as a double brainstorm strikes.)
Pinkie, Sunset: Like eating a crowbar!
Pinkie: (whispering, waggling it) Churros is magic [sic].
(They cross to the door and she raises it for a strike against the lock. Before she can bring it down, the guard throws the door open, knocking them back.)
Guard: (pointing) Hey! You two!
(Terrified, they clutch at each other; extreme close-up of their reflections in the lenses of his sunglasses.)
Guard: I remember you.
Sunset: You do? (Zoom out quickly to frame all three.)
Guard: Yeah. You respected my security line earlier today. So many of these kids just don’t get it. (Pinkie and Sunset break apart with hasty smiles.)
Pinkie: (nodding) We get it!
Guard: So I thought, “Hey, self, these gals aren’t crazy fans, they’re just fans. And they didn’t do anything…illegal.” (Pinkie hides the churro behind her back.)
Pinkie: Weren’t about to, either!
Guard: You’re just big fans of Post Crush. And since security is all about karma, I thought it’s only right you should be able to see the show.
(This line is punctuated by a brief cut to and from the interrupted burglars, who are having quite a bit of trouble working it through their mental machinery. He ends with a gesture toward the open door, the girls responding with grateful smiles.)
Sunset: Mister, you are the best security guard ever!
Guard: (bashfully) Aw, gosh. Heh. (waving them on) Go on in!
(They do so; cut to them on the run across the grounds.)
Sunset: Final mission—get the Time Twirler from K-Lo’s hair and turn it…twirl it off or…ugh, make it not work anymore. (She jams on the brakes; Pinkie keeps running.) Wait! (Pinkie stops and turns to her.)
Pinkie: What’s wrong?
Sunset: It’s just that…I’ve already seen Post Crush. But if we break the time loop right now, you won’t.
(Cut to a dismayed Pinkie on these last two words, then back to Sunset.)
Sunset: We’re running Post Crush’s only reunion show.
(A pink hand finds its way to her shoulder, accompanied by a scoff from its o.s. owner; zoom out to frame both as the other one finds its mark.)
Pinkie: Are you kidding? They trapped my best friend at a super-fun music festival without me for weeks! They are so going down!
(The view contracts to a horizontal bar centered on her face as she finishes. From here, cut in to a fullscreen overhead shot of the stage, set up and lit for the Post Crush show, and tilt down slowly. A dissolve shifts the view to the area underneath the stage, where the musicians are doing a final bit of stretching and primping. Kiwi stands on the platform that will lift them up, while Supernova stands just off one edge; close-up of the latter.)
Supernova: (sighing, closing makeup compact) I’m getting tired of living the same day over and over. Can this please be our last performance? (Kiwi rounds on her.)
Kiwi: (scoffing) We’ve been over this, Su-Z. We don’t stop until we get it perfect.
(A rumbling from o.s. draws their attention away from the spat; cut to a closed door, bright pink light spilling in around the frame before an explosion blasts it open. Pinkie and Sunset enter, the scorch marks on the door’s outer surface pointing to the former’s use of a magically charged sweet to blow the lock.)
Pinkie: Sorry to interrupt, buuuut…
Sunset: …you have something that doesn’t belong to you.
(Kiwi and Supernova gasp, the latter dropping her compact; both now stand beyond the platform edge opposite these two.)
Supernova: Who let you two back in?
Sunset: Give us the Time Twirler, now!
Kiwi: You wouldn’t dare. (Slow pan.) If you were real fans, you’d want this show to be perfect.
Sunset: Eh, nothing’s perfect. Right, Pinkie Pie?
Pinkie: Yep!
(A bit of fumbling around in her hair, and she has procured that tooth-buster of a churro and hooked both thumbs under opposite ends to try and bend it. Cut to the incensed/bemused popsters as her straining grunts give way to the sound of a clank, then back to an extreme close-up of the savagely triumphant pink face.)
Pinkie: (lifting/throwing churro, now bent at an angle) You just gotta make the best with what you got!
(It sails over the duo’s heads, doubles back like a boomerang, and scores a direct hit on Kiwi’s bow to stick there. The impact dislodges the Twirler, sending it into a high, tight arc, and she yanks the churro loose and throws it down with a growl as Supernova charges across the enclosure. Pinkie snatches the artifact out of the air, only to lose her hold when a yelling Supernova nails her with a flying tackle. It winds up in a tug-of-war between Sunset and Kiwi.)
Kiwi: Give it back!
(She begins to lose ground, the sandaled feet catching on a loose cable, and both tumble to the floor as the Twirler squirts loose. It bounces off a speaker, then a microphone stand, and falls into the open tray of a two-tray compact disc unit. This one slides shut, followed by the other one opening to eject it onto the center of the platform in close-up. Zoom out to frame the four combatants tumbled at the far wall; once they get their wits back, dirty looks flash from one to another and all throw themselves toward the Twirler in a whole new battle royal. On the start of the next line, cut to the stage with its backdrop lit, then to the opening hatch as the four are lifted into view, still fighting tooth and nail amid the spilling, sparkly mist.)
Announcer: Let me hear three big cheers for the two best friends who got back together for one incredible night… (The pink hearts radiate across the backdrop.) …POST CRUUUSH!!
(They freeze in mid-grapple, realizing that every eye is upon them now, and stunned murmurs ripple through the audience from front row to back. Sunset is first to snap back to herself, and she takes advantage of the distraction to slap the Twirler from Supernova’s hand. It clatters to the stage, and she lets her feet do the talking by bringing one hiking boot down to crush it into junk. Pink light spills out around the thick rubber sole, intensifying into a shock wave that shakes the stage and everyone on or near it as it washes outward. The four girls watch dumbstruck as the last motes of light from the detonation rain down around them. Kiwi recovers her voice first with a choked sob; cut to a close-up of the smashed Twirler as she drops to her knees, framed from the waist down. Teardrops fall into view from above, the camera tilting up to frame her face and running makeup as she speaks.)
Kiwi: Our legacy is…destroyed! Everything was riding on this show, and you ruined it!
(The full-throated cheers coming her way from the direction of the audience provide a marked contrast to her assessment of the situation. Mixed in is a steadily growing chant of “Post Crush! Post Crush!”)
Sunset: Are you sure about that?
(Kiwi mulls it over, as do both Pinkie and Supernova standing off to one side. The party planner smiles and pushes the drummer forward just a bit so she too can take it in; cut to behind the four, tilting up slowly, then to the clamoring crowd, then back to Sunset and a wondering Kiwi.)
Sunset: Your fans don’t want perfection. They just want to see you rocking out and having fun. Sometimes the flaws and silly mistakes are what makes the experience perfect. (arm across Pinkie’s shoulders) That’s the best part about seeing live music—and it’s the best part of being friends.
Kiwi: (softly) Hmph. We did used to have a lot of fun. (Supernova kneels next to her.)
Supernova: Guess we got so wrapped up in the pressure to be perfect…
Kiwi: …we forgot.
Sunset: So what do you say?
Kiwi: (smiling, wiping eyes) I don’t know. This one’s for real.
Supernova: (sighing happily, taking her hand) Let’s do it, then. For real. (touching her cheek) It’ll be you and me, just like old times. (They rest their foreheads together.) Whatever happens, happens.
(Fade to black.)
Electronic percussion rhythm, same tempo as Act Two song
(Spotlights in varied colors flick on and off against the lightless background, followed by a cut to the pulsing fixtures above the stage and a zoom in on Kiwi. She and Supernova are ready to play, and she turns away from the backdrop to face the crowd without touching the strings as Supernova puts her sticks to work.)
Synthesizer melody; acoustic percussion sneaks in (A major)
Kiwi: Always first place, never second best
Only high stakes, we aim to impress
And there’s no room for mistakes
Yeah, we’re flawless every day ’cause
Post Crush: We’re all about perfection
Projecting that pure reflection
Percussion builds
(Kiwi begins to play.)
Exceeding your expectations
A cappella
Kiwi: (muted) Yeah
Guitar/synth/acoustic percussion take over, as in Act Two song
(Supernova plays her drum fill to kick it off properly, while Pinkie and Sunset dance off to one side of the stage.)
Post Crush: Be the true, true, true original
Dare to be what you are meant to be
Working hard, that’s our thing
(Supernova boots a snare drum on its stand over to Pinkie, and Kiwi whips out a spare guitar which she throws to Sunset.)
All this way, we’re perfect, perfectly true
(The newly drafted backup guitarist hits a power chord that sends a wave of light over the scene as Pinkie retrieves a pair of sticks from her hair.)
True, true original
(Twilight, Fluttershy, and Rainbow join the crowd and are elated to see their friends onstage.)
True, true original
True, true original
(Pinkie twirls one stick.)
Post Crush, Pinkie, Sunset: We’re perfect, perfectly true
Half-time feel; background lyrics in square brackets
(Dissolve to the two Wondercolts riding their tandem bike across the grounds in Act Five.)
Kiwi: Oh-h, oh-h [True original], oh-h, oh-h
(They marvel at the lights within the Neon Garden.)
Oh-h, oh-h [Hey, hey]
(They cheerfully let themselves be bombarded with paint, then go for the photo booth.) [We’re perfect, perfect] Oh-h, oh-h [True original], oh-h, oh-h [Hey]
(The camera flash shifts the view back to the stage in the present.)
Oh-h, oh-h
Half-time feel ends; muted synth chords only
(She moves aside to give the camera a clear view of the mixing board; Pinkie stands in front with the drum/sticks, while Sunset sits on the edge with the guitar. Zoom in slowly.)
Pinkie, Sunset: But it’s not about perfection
Set off in your own direction
Shake off the expectations
Silence for four beats
(Sunset pivots away from her to Kiwi so they can play a chord in unison to continue the song, including both drummers.)
Full instrumentation in
Post Crush, Pinkie, Sunset: You’re the true, true, true original
[Yeah, yeah] Dare to be who you are meant to be
(Now all five of the other Rainbooms have joined the party. Pinkie stops playing, extracts several cupcakes from her hair, and throws them upward after a magic charge. The resulting blasts create a colorful pyrotechnic display.)
Free yourself, do your thing
All your way, you’re perfect and perfectly you
(Kiwi slides to the edge of the stage on her knees.)
True, true original [True original, hey]
(She stands again and plays back to back with Sunset.)
True, true original
True, true original
A cappella
You’re perfect and perfectly you
Song ends
(Cheers and applause ring through the night as she throws her guitar pick back over her shoulder. Up and up toward the lighting it goes, then down to land in Sunset’s waiting hand. Pinkie is a bit slower on the draw, but Sunset lets her have the prize with a smile as “Post Crush!” chants start up among the spectators and the camera stays on them.)
Sunset: I think we just played Starswirled!
Supernova: (from o.s.) Yeah, you did!
(Cut to her, now standing away from her kit and bowing, and Kiwi.)
Kiwi: (both beckoning them over) Get over here and take a photo with us! (Pinkie and Sunset hustle across and all four cluster in.)
Sunset: Now this is a perfect moment.
(She pulls out her phone and aims it at the impromptu quartet; cut to its camera-eye perspective of the beaming faces. Pinkie has time for one squealing laugh before the flash fills the screen.)
(Fade in to the sun in a clear blue morning sky above the treetops and cut to a close-up of Sunset’s phone on her pillow. Its alarm goes off, using the same sound clip as before but now displaying the new picture, and the pajama-clad owner wakes in her bunk to shut it off with a drowsy grin. A beefy snore drifts up from floor level; the source proves to be Pinkie when Sunset peeks down that way. She too is in her pajamas, and she drools a bit, sprawled out every which way across her sleeping bag.)
Pinkie: (mumbling in sleep) …churro, num-num-num…
Sunset: (loudly, exuberantly) Starswirled, day two!
(The human dynamo sits up with a gasp, sleepy puffiness instantly disappearing from her eyes.)
Pinkie: (pumping fists) YES!
(Longer shot; the other Rainbooms have cleared out.)
Pinkie: (jumping/cartwheeling/springing about) We did it! Ha-ha! Woo-hoo! (She hops up to sit next to Sunset.) What do you want to do today, Sunset?
Sunset: Whatever the day brings us. (rolling eyes) Yesterday was the longest three weeks of my life!
(Both laugh as the view begins fading to black.)
Pinkie: (fading out, as the transition finishes) Yeah, I guess it would’ve been!