THE LAST ROUNDUP
Written by Amy Keating Rogers
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Note: In the time since this episode’s premiere, it has been edited to remove the
mention of Derpy Hooves’ name and change her voice. The transcript presented
here is based on the original broadcast.
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of Applejack’s furiously galloping legs, seen in a head-on view. It is daytime. The camera tilts up to the farm pony’s determined face, showing her to be hatless, and cuts briefly to her perspective. She is racing along a broad path in the Sweet Apple Acres orchards, toward a hurdle similar to those used in steeplechases; in profile, she takes it in one easy bound. Rounding a turn, she clears a second hurdle, and the camera pans quickly to a third one built from two curved poles. The green eyes narrow above a fierce smile as Applejack barrels toward this, and she licks her lips and hurls herself into a jump with all four legs extended.)
(In slow motion, the orange-tan form glides smoothly over the top pole—except for one rear hoof, which taps against it to give a click that echoes in the sudden silence. Normal speed resumes as Applejack hits the ground and keeps galloping, not even losing a step from the contact. Cut to the sidelines and zoom out to frame Apple Bloom watching from a fence as Applejack jumps a fourth obstacle; the brown cowboy hat is parked on the filly’s head. She waves enthusiastically.)
Bloom: Woo— (losing balance) —whoa!
(Her grab at the top rail causes the hat to flip forward, blocking her vision; she pushes it back and gets an acknowledging wink. A hay bale lies on the path ahead, with an attached length of rope that Applejack grabs in her teeth. One good swing builds up enough momentum to let her fling the mass as if doing the Olympic hammer throw. It sails away, Applejack shading her eyes with a foreleg to watch, and it lands some distance past a line where two others have fallen in previous attempts. She crosses her left legs over her right, aiming a self-deprecating glance off to the side. Cut to Bloom.)
Bloom: (hat falling off) Woo-hoo! Applejack, you’re sure to knock everypony’s hat off at the Equestria Rodeo Competition!
(On the end of this, zoom out to frame Applejack now at the fence; she picks the hat up in her teeth and flips it back onto her own head.)
Applejack: Aw, shucks, Apple Bloom. I sure hope so.
Bloom: Hope so? I know so! After all… (Cut to Applejack; she continues o.s.) …you’re the ten-time rodeo champeen of Ponyville! (Back to her.) Why, you’ve got more blue ribbons than anypony in Ponyville ever!
(On the end of this, the camera follows her gesture to show a trophy case filled with blue ribbons and gold medals, mounted on the side of a shed. “Ever” marks a cut to a close-up and slow pan down the length of this display.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) And I can’t wait for my big sis to win every blue ribbon in Equestria… (Back to her.) …and bring home the title of… (To a grateful Applejack; she continues o.s.) …Equestria Rodeo Champeen!
(Big sis does something that is truly rare for her: she blushes. Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of a banner being hung, depicting a rearing Applejack. A zoom out reveals the full apple design and Rainbow Dash hoisting one end above the town square pavilion’s main entrance. The other end has already been tacked to the second-story balcony; after Rainbow attaches hers, she looks smugly at her handiwork. Cockiness turns to surprise in a blink, and she ducks just in time to avoid a sudden bolt of lightning that singes the end of her tail.)
Rainbow: Huh? (calling overhead) Now, careful, Derpy!
(At a slightly greater height, Derpy Hooves is cheerfully jumping on a gray cloud, producing a fresh strike with every bounce. She stops at the approach of the irate blue pegasus, whose tail has healed up now.)
Rainbow: Don’t want to do any more damage than you’ve already done.
(Zoom out to frame the entire upper portion of the structure. The third-story balcony is sagging everywhere, and the roof has had a couple of ragged holes punched through it—doubtless by the constant lightning strikes from Derpy’s goofing off. To add insult to injury, the uppermost piece—already hanging by a thread—breaks loose and crashes through the largest hole.)
Derpy: (jumping again) I just don’t know what went wrong.
(She manages to shock herself a good one, charring the gray coat and blond mane nicely. In close-up, Rainbow throws her a look while tapping one of the banner’s tacks in with a hoof.)
Rainbow: (sarcastically) Yeah. It’s a mystery. (Zoom out; Derpy, now cleaned up, is at the balcony.)
Derpy: Nice work, Rainbow Dash!
(On the end of this, she backs into a support post, which promptly topples over the balcony rail. With a panicked grimace, Rainbow dives after the timber, gets under the low end, heaves upward—and then drops o.s. with a crash and yell. Once the dust clears, the view has shifted to the pavilion’s porch, with a brand-new hole from which the pole’s snapped end protrudes. Derpy lands next to this and sticks her head inside; her next two lines echo in the space.)
Derpy: You okay, Rainbow Dash?
(Cut to the basement/foundation area underneath the porch; Rainbow glares up at her assistant.)
Derpy: Anything I can do to help? (A plank falls in. Back to the porch; Rainbow flies up.)
Rainbow: No! Nothing! In the name of Celestia, just sit there and do nothing!
(The cross-eyed flyer plunks her rump onto the porch, whereupon a circle of cracks starts to spread in the wood around her. As soon as the spot gives way, she makes a desperate grab at Rainbow that only leads to both pegasi plummeting into this second hole.)
Derpy: (from beneath, echoing) Oops. My bad.
(Cut to a large crowd, gathered outside the pavilion and chanting Applejack’s name. A small stage has been set up here; Mayor Mare stands at a lectern atop it. Close-up of her.)
Mayor Mare: (over chanting) Everypony, can I get your attention? Attention, please! (Silence.) Yes, we are all here to send Applejack to compete in this year’s Equestria Rodeo Competition in Canterlot.
(On the end of this, she gestures to one side and the camera pans slightly in this direction to frame Applejack now standing alongside her. Cheers and stomping applause from the multitude; Mayor Mare waits to continue until the noise has stopped.)
Mayor Mare: And I want to thank Applejack in advance, for generously offering up her prize money… (Cut to the wrecked pavilion roof; she continues o.s.) …to fix Town Hall.
(Ground level; Rainbow has climbed up onto the porch, while Derpy hangs at the edge of her hole.)
Derpy: Yeah, Applejack! (raising forelegs) Woo-hoo!
(Gravity wastes no time in yanking her out of sight as Rainbow rolls her eyes disgustedly. More cheering and stomping from the crowd; cut to Pinkie Pie among them as it dies off again.)
Pinkie: (jumping in place) Speech! Speech! (To Applejack.)
Applejack: Oh, shucks. I’m not much for speeches. (To Pinkie.)
Pinkie: All right, then, no speech! (She zips away.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Buuuuut… (Back again; cut to her onstage.) …this here is the nicest sendoff anypony could ask for.
(Cut to a pan across the front row, with first Fluttershy, then Twilight Sparkle, and finally Rarity coming into view.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Y’all have been cheering me on in every rodeo since I was a little little pony. (Back to her; she glances toward Mayor Mare.) So it seems only fittin’ to use my winnin’s to fix up Town Hall. (Long shot; her voice reverberates across over the crowd.) I promise to make Ponyville proud!
(Receiving a third round of adulation, she smiles gratefully and pulls her hat forward over her eyes. Dissolve to a locomotive’s smokestack and tilt down to the sound of a clanging station bell on the start of the next line. On the platform are Twilight, Applejack, Pinkie, Mayor Mare, Granny Smith, Big Macintosh, and Apple Bloom, with Rainbow hovering above. Applejack is toting a pair of saddlebags.)
Granny: I want you to show all them highfalutin rodeo ponies what a real rodeo pony’s like!
Applejack: You betcha, Granny Smith. (Mayor Mare shoves Granny back.)
Mayor Mare: And bring back all that money!
Applejack: (turning/walking toward train) You betcha, Mayor. (Pinkie cuts her off.)
Pinkie: And have fun, and don’t be nervous. (as Applejack approaches train again) Or if you are, use that nervous energy to do even better than you already would! And eat peanuts and popcorn and taffy. (Fluttershy, Rarity, and other ponies have gathered now; she holds up a bag of taffy.) Taffy gives you lots of nervous energy.
(She proceeds to start chomping away at the sweet stuff, burying her face in the bag. Reactions are mixed, from annoyance to puzzlement to hungry chop-licking by Macintosh. Twilight turns away from the undignified face-stuffing to address Applejack.)
Twilight: Just do your best, Applejack.
Applejack: I’ll do better than my best!
Stallion voice: The train to Canterlot is about to leave!
(Quick pan to the locomotive. The speaker is a light blue-gray earth pony stallion, dressed in a conductor’s jacket and cap, with white shirt and red necktie; dark gray mane/tail with long mustache; spectacles on nose; pocket-watch cutie mark. He stands on the platform, while the engineer is visible through the locomotive window: light brown earth pony stallion, brown eyes and mane/tail, striped engineer’s cap, red bandana around neck.)
Conductor: All aboard who’s coming aboard!
Applejack: (to the group) Guess that means me. (She steps to the door.)
Rainbow: See you in a week!
Bloom: With lots of new blue ribbons! (Cut to just inside the door; Applejack enters.)
Mayor Mare: And lots of money!
Applejack: (stepping inside o.s.) Darn tootin’!
(Steam pours up from below the platform. As the train begins to roll, the camera shifts to the exterior of the locomotive and pans back a few cars to frame Applejack waving and looking out from one window.)
Applejack: See y’all in a week, with a big bag full of blue ribbons!
(Inside the car again; she watches the well-wishers shout their last goodbyes while galloping as far as the platform’s end. Once they have receded past the trailing edge of her window, cut back to the platform.)
Pinkie: And drink sarsaparilla! (Funny looks from the others; she addresses them.) What? It gives you extra sass.
(Twilight turns away with a slightly exasperated sigh. Dissolve to a close-up of a window as a banner depicting Applejack, identical to the one hung by Rainbow and Derpy, is strung up. Zoom out to show it being hung by Fluttershy and Rainbow inside the Sweet Apple Acres barn; streamers and balloons are present and accounted for as well.)
Fluttershy: Oh, I hope Applejack is surprised by this surprise party.
(During this line, cut to a shot of the entire area: cakes, more banners and decorations, and a plethora of ponies helping to set up. Macintosh blows up a balloon; cut to Rainbow, now reeling a streamer from a box as Bloom nips away one of her own.)
Rainbow: (a bit irritated) Well, that is the point. (She flies up to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: I know. (She catches the free end thrown to her.) But I hope she isn’t so surprised she’s startled. (They tack up the ends.) Because while being surprised can be nice— (dropping to ground, walking off) —being startled can be very startling.
(Naturally, Pinkie chooses this very moment to jump into the timid pegasus’ face with a shower of confetti.)
Pinkie: SURPRISE!! (Fluttershy falls backward with a gasp.)
Fluttershy: Oh, Pinkie, you startled me.
Pinkie: (helping her up, hopping away) Sorry. I was just practicing my “surprise” for when we surprise Applejack with this super-cool party for becoming Rodeo Champeen of Equestria!
(Her head drops into view from above, marking her climb from floor to ceiling in the split second that she was out of view.)
Pinkie: SURPRISE!! (Fluttershy falls backward again.)
Twilight: (from o.s., whispering) Quiet, Pinkie! (Cut to her, peeking out the doors.) I think Applejack’s coming!
(Bloom, meanwhile, has taken up a position in an empty feed trough; Pinkie dives in next to her.)
Pinkie: Don’t worry, Twilight. Got my lips all limbered up.
(This consists of a series of goofy facial contortions in which she works her teeth, her jaw, her lips; Bloom just stares at her, thoroughly confounded. Above, Fluttershy and Rainbow jump up to hide in a full hayloft and peek out over the scene, which is now fully stocked with Apple family members from near and far. All take whatever cover they can find as the lights go out. After a few seconds that feel like a week, a rectangle of light is cast over the floor from the doors creaking open and a hatted shadow advances into view. Lights on; all but Pinkie pop up.)
Crowd: SURPRISE!!
(The noisemaker in Macintosh’s mouth prevents him from shouting with them, so he gives it a hearty blow instead. Pinkie leaps up well after the room has gone dead silent.)
Pinkie: Surprise! (Pause.) Shoot!
(Cut to the open doors. The new arrival is not Applejack, but a telegram delivery stallion. Khaki coat, curly brown mane/tail, medium blue eyes, blue uniform jacket and cap with silver badges, light blue shirt, dark gray necktie. His cutie mark consists of a white postage stamp displaying a heart, and he has a folded note tucked into his cap’s band.)
Delivery stallion: Wow! This is the best surprise ever! How did you know it was my birthday?
(All faces fall; cut to just outside the barn. He now holds a telegram in one hoof, and Twilight grumpily looks out, levitates it from his grip, and yanks both it and herself back inside. The door slams shut in his face, sending his own spirits into the basement. As he paws the ground listlessly, the doors burst open and a beaming Pinkie holds out a slice of cake on a plate, drops it, and shuts him outside again. The stallion’s puzzlement gives way to a smile.)
(Inside, the rest of the crew has gathered around Twilight, who is studying the message intently.)
Bloom: Who’s it from, Twilight? What’s it say?
Twilight: It’s from Applejack. (reading) “Family and friends…” (Cut to Macintosh and Granny; she continues o.s.) “Not coming back to Ponyville.” (Shock all around the barn.) “Don’t worry, will send money soon.”
(Back to her; she turns the telegram around in midair to expose its printed side.)
Twilight: That’s all there is.
(Cut to a pan across several Apples, all of whom gasp in disbelief as Rarity stands among them, staring with great concern.)
Bloom: Applejack’s… not comin’ back? (Cut to Fluttershy and Rainbow.)
Rainbow: What do you mean, Applejack’s not coming back? She loves Ponyville. (Zoom out to frame Granny and Bloom.)
Granny: And she loves Sweet Apple Acres. (Close-up of Bloom, zooming in.)
Bloom: And she loves her family!
(She aims her saddest big-eyed pout past the camera, which pans away from her in order to avoid ending up with diabetes. It stops on Rarity, just behind her; she gasps melodramatically.)
Rarity: Something just dreadful must have happened to Applejack to make her not return!
Fluttershy: Maybe she’s hurt, or sad or scared!
Rainbow: So what are we waiting for? Let’s go find her!
(The blue wings shift straight from idle to fourth gear and propel her toward the door. Zoom out to frame the rest of the guests, with a determined Twilight at the fore.)
Twilight: (trotting out; Fluttershy/Rarity follow) Don’t worry. We’ll search all of Equestria if we have to.
(Cut to a pan across Bloom and several of her kin.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) We’ll bring her back.
Bloom: Y’all are the best. (Stop on Macintosh and Granny on the end of this.)
Granny: Thank you, girls.
(The MIA workhorse’s five friends are now gathered at the open barn doors, and Twilight snaps a salute before they gallop/fly out across the fields. Macintosh fights to keep his composure as Granny steps up alongside him. The family’s collective mood has just nose-dived again.)
Granny: Our little bushel just lost one Apple.
(He just wipes and sniffles at the tears that have now gotten the better of him. Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of a stretch of railroad track. The Ponyville-to-Canterlot train chugs along under a tranquil blue sky as Twilight and Rainbow look out the windows toward the distant capital city. Cut to the Canterlot station as the train pulls in, then wipe to the exterior of a large stadium as the five hurry toward its open gate. It is hung with horseshoe-decorated banners and flying assorted flags, some of which depict rearing ponies, and the seats within can be seen to be empty. This can only be the venue at which the Equestria Rodeo Competition took place. All stop for a moment, then scatter at a nod from Twilight.)
(Inside, Rarity carries a black-and-white photo of Applejack in her teeth and trots up to a cowboy-hatted stallion talking to a mare in the stands. Both shake their heads at the picture—“nope, haven’t seen her”—after which a rodeo-clown stallion in garish face makeup and clothes rolls by on a beach ball. Right behind him is Pinkie, on a ball of her own and with a copy of the photo in teeth. Once she has pulled even, she leans over to give him a good look; no good here either. The dejected pink pony stops dead, her ball deflating to slowly lower her back to the ground.)
(Up in the stands, two mares taking a break from cleanup duty—Carrot Top and Cherry Berry—get a look at the photo when it is floated over to them. Zoom out slightly to frame Twilight in control of it; they trade a puzzled look, then give her a shrug that pegs this try as a bust. Cut to a close-up of Caramel pushing a barrel along with his head. Something stops him in his tracks, revealed to be Rainbow when the camera zooms out slightly. He aims a vexed glare at both her and the photo of Applejack in her teeth, then shakes his head. Next Fluttershy flies up to the stadium roof, where another rodeo-clown stallion is napping with his hat tilted over his face. She has a fifth copy of Applejack’s photo in her teeth, but he waves her off without even lifting his hat to get a clear look. As the cleanup crew gets everything squared away, Twilight and company make one last, fruitless effort to pick up any hints on their friend’s whereabouts.)
(A dissolve leaves the area clean and empty; pan to frame the very glum quintet off to one side. Rainbow lies flat in the stands, Pinkie slumps over the rail, Fluttershy sits next to it on her haunches, Twilight is slumped face first at a table on the stadium floor, Rarity stands nearby. Twilight’s copy of the photo lies in front of her; a passing mare takes surprised notice of it and smiles in recognition. All five are up and beaming at her in an instant; zoom out to frame her as she points off in a new direction. A cut to the group’s perspective reveals that her hoof is aimed at a stretch of parched desert land and rock formations, over which a hawk’s lonely cry rings out. Back to them, all genuinely thrown off balance by this new tip.)
(Wipe to a pan across this unforgiving new terrain, accompanied by the chuffing of a train engine, and zoom out to frame Rainbow gazing gloomily out from a window.)
Rainbow: I hope this lead doesn’t turn out to be a dead end.
(Cut to frame all five, seated on benches in the car. Pinkie groans and squirms in her seat.)
Rainbow: I don’t want to go home empty-hooved after promising we’d find her.
Fluttershy: I don’t know how we’ll break it to the Apple family. (Close-up of Twilight.)
Twilight: I don’t know how we’ll break it to Ponyville. (Quick pan to Pinkie, one rear leg tightly crossed over the other.)
Pinkie: (through gritted teeth) I don’t know how I’ll make it to the next stop!
(Before Twilight can fully wrap her mind around the problem of her friend’s overloaded bladder, the train’s whistle sounds off to mark their arrival at a station. She smiles.)
Twilight: This is Dodge Junction, girls.
(Cut to a slowing pan across a station not too different from the one in Appleloosa. An outhouse stands at one end of the platform.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Applejack is supposed to have come here after the Rodeo ended.
(The camera stops moving, steam hisses up, and hooves hit the ground as soon as the car’s steps are lowered.)
Twilight: Let’s fan out and try to find her.
(Or, in Pinkie’s case, “let’s make a beeline for the toilet” would be a better description. A moaning pink blur flashes past the others.)
Pinkie: (now o.s.) Pickles! (She knocks frantically at the outhouse door.) Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry! (Knock again; flush.) Hurry it up in there!
(The door is flung open, knocking her silly for a moment, and Applejack emerges.)
Applejack: (sighing, annoyed) Some ponies. Sheesh.
(Her pink friend pays no mind whatsoever, ducking inside and slamming the door—and then throwing it open again with a huge smile.)
Pinkie: Applejack! (hopping out and around) I found her, I found her, I found her, I found her, I found her!
(The others hurry around the corner after her and stop at her enthusiastic pointing. Sure enough, on the other side of the tracks is Applejack, walking across the main street in the Wild West-style settlement of Dodge Junction. Zoom in quickly to a close-up of her face, surprise stamping itself across every square inch, before the two unicorns trot up.)
Rarity: Oh, Applejack, thank heavens!
(She turns away from them only to find both pegasi on her other side.)
Fluttershy: We’re so glad you’re safe!
Pinkie: (bouncing in place) I found her, I found her, I found her, I found her!
(Stopping in midair, she clamps one hind leg over the other as she did on the train, having suddenly remembered her urgent need to tap a kidney.)
Pinkie: (sheepishly) Be right back.
(She zips away; an o.s. door slams, and the rest of the group walks to the now-occupied outhouse. Applejack’s lack of enthusiasm at being tracked down instantly becomes apparent.)
Applejack: Uh…hey, everypony. What’s up?
Rainbow: Why didn’t you come back to Ponyville?
Rarity: Yes. Why are you here? (Toilet flush.)
Fluttershy: Are you okay? (Pinkie pokes her head into view.)
Pinkie: Do you have any snacks?
Twilight: (urgently) Tell us what happened, Applejack!
(The blonde’s reluctant silence is broken by a cheerful older mare’s voice with a Western twang.)
Mare voice: Applejack?
(Pan to a nearby building. Standing at the door is the speaker, a cream-colored earth pony whose two-tone deep red mane/tail are carefully curled and piled high about her head and rump. The mane is held by a yellow band decorated with cherries, her cutie mark shows two of this fruit, and a pink scarf is knotted around her neck. Eyes: light green, with pink shadow and a small beauty mark at the outer corner of one. This is Cherry Jubilee.)
Jubilee: Are these some of your Ponyville friends? (Twilight and Rarity walk over to her.)
Twilight: Yes, ma’am.
Rarity: And you are?
Jubilee: (stepping down to street) Why, I’m Cherry Jubilee, boss of Cherry-O Ranch. (Cut to the pair; she continues o.s.) Hasn’t Applejack told you? (passing them, stopping by Applejack) I saw her compete at the Equestria Rodeo. Never saw anypony win so many ribbons in all my life.
Applejack: Aw, shucks, Miss Jubilee. You don’t have to go into all that.
Jubilee: (lifting Applejack’s chin) Aw, she’s so modest. Anyway, I can always use a pony with quick hooves and a strong back. (Overhead view; all gather around her.) So when I heard Applejack was looking for a change of scenery, I snapped her up quick as I could and brought her to Dodge Junction.
(On the end of this, the camera cuts to Applejack’s five friends, who trade a round of worried/suspicious glances. It then returns to Jubilee as she walks away.)
Jubilee: Well, I’ll let you catch up with your friends. (Close-up of Applejack’s face, running with nervous sweat; she continues o.s.) See you back at the ranch!
(Zoom out as Rainbow zips in to hover in her face.)
Rainbow: Change of scenery? What’s that supposed to mean?
Applejack: (testily, walking past her) It’s no big deal, guys. I thought cherries would be a nice change from apples, so I took the job and came here. That’s it. End of story. (Cut to the others.)
Pinkie: That’s it? Well, that’s a terrible story!
Applejack: (from o.s.) Sorry, but that’s all there is to tell. (Back to her.) Thanks for checkin’ on me, but y’all can go home now. (walking off) Tell my family hi and that I’m doin’ A-OK. (Rainbow flies over.)
Rainbow: (really sore) Excuse me, AJ— (She lands and starts to back Applejack up.) —but we didn’t travel all over Equestria searching for you to come home without you!
Applejack: (walking past) Well, I didn’t ask you to come lookin’ for me! There is nothin’ to tell, and I am not goin’ back to Ponyville! (She gallops off.)
Twilight: (to the other four) I don’t care what she says. Applejack’s not telling us something.
Rainbow: Twilight’s right. We gotta get her to spill the beans.
Pinkie: What?!? She had beans?!? (sighing angrily) I told her I was snacky!
(Wipe to a white mouse nibbling on a cherry. It rests in the angle formed by a post and a bracing member for the ceiling of the room it is in; cherries decorate the background wall. On the start of the next line, tilt down to frame Applejack and Jubilee in a large room that contains the following: a conveyor belt with one end butted up against a hatch in the far wall; two large bins alongside this, one marked with red cherries and the other yellow; a pony-sized version of a hamster exercise wheel. The two mares cross to this last item; Applejack is wearing an apron, a pair of saddlebags on her back, and a white hairnet over her mane in place of her hat.)
Jubilee: You ready to put your back into it, Applejack?
Applejack: Sure am, Miss Jubilee. (She jumps into the wheel.)
Jubilee: Terrific! Come on in, girls!
(Here come the other five, all suited up as well; Applejack’s surprise soon gives way to annoyance.)
Applejack: What are you all doin’ here?
Twilight: We’re your cherry sorters.
(They line up parallel to the conveyor, on the opposite side from the two bins.)
Twilight: Shall we get started?
Applejack: Fine. (Close-up of the red bin.)
Jubilee: (from o.s., pointing to it, chuckling) Red cherries go in one bin— (Pan to the yellow; she indicates it.) —and yellow cherries go in the other.
(Cut to frame her at the free end of the conveyor.)
Jubilee: Simple as cherry pie. Uh, just one teensy thing to remember…have fun! (She trots out of the room.)
Applejack: What are you five up to?
Rarity: Well, uh…you made working on a cherry orchard sound so delightful.
Applejack: (not buying it) Uh-huh. Well, just remember—no talkin’ about Ponyville!
Rainbow: Fine! (thumping conveyor) Why don’t you quit talking and get walking?
(Needled by this jab, Applejack turns her head bitterly forward and begins to walk inside the wheel. As it turns and gains speed, the pulleys attached to both it and the conveyor start rotating and the belt itself comes to life. From the hatch comes a steady stream of cherries, which the five new workers push off into the appropriate bins as they pass. The work goes on for perhaps ten wordless seconds before Rainbow sneaks a peek in the stoic ranch hand’s direction. Next she glances the other way and gives a furtive nod; quick pan to Twilight, who smiles sneakily and tips her a wink.)
Twilight: (trying to sound casual) So, AJ, how was Canterlot?
(Applejack’s eyes pop as she glares back toward the unicorn.)
Twilight: (hastily) Not talking about Ponyville, talking about Canterlot. Totally different town.
Applejack: Canterlot was fine.
Twilight: Was the Rodeo fun? (Close-up of Applejack.)
Applejack: Yes.
(Her eyes bug out a bit again; cut to a longer shot. Twilight has left her post and is now standing by the wheel.)
Twilight: Did you meet some nice ponies there?
Applejack: Some. (Rainbow flies over.)
Rainbow: (excitedly) Really? Did you see Wild Bull Hickok? Oh! What about Calamity Mane?
Applejack: Yes, I saw ’em both.
(Rainbow grins and nods, hoping for an inside scoop, but gets only a dirty look in return. She throws it right back at Applejack as Rarity steps over to the three.)
Rarity: And how did you meet Miss Jubilee?
Applejack: Um…well…Miss Jubilee had a cherry stand at the Rodeo. (speeding up to a trot) Real good treats.
(The conveyor accelerates as well, bringing the cherries out at a considerably faster pace. Fluttershy and Pinkie, the only two sorters still on duty, have to work to keep up.)
Fluttershy: Um, excuse me?
Applejack: (paying no mind) Cherry winks, cherry cheesecake, cherry tarts. We struck up a conversation, being orchard folk and all.
Twilight: So you told her about Sweet Apple Acres?
Applejack: Yes.
Rainbow: (irked) Did you tell her why you weren’t going back?
Applejack: No, ’cause it was none of her business!
(She speeds up again, leaving Fluttershy and Pinkie to scramble even faster at the belt.)
Fluttershy: Oh…can you please slow down?
Rainbow: Is it because I made it rain on you that one time? (Applejack is now galloping.)
Applejack: No!
(And now the cherries are coming so fast that Fluttershy gives up using her hooves and puts them to the sides of her head.)
Fluttershy: Help!
(Pan to Pinkie, who frantically gathers up as many as she can hold in her forelegs and dumps them into an indentation in Fluttershy’s hairnet. The latter aims a pair of extremely worried blue-green eyes up at the impromptu fruit basket, and as Applejack keeps racing along, Pinkie makes another desperate grab at the unsorted fruit. Within moments she has filled her baskets and set a pile on her own head, but these moves buy her precious little time.)
Twilight: Is it because you were insulted when I gave you that book on organized orchards?
Applejack: No!
(The gallop speeds up, with the result of bringing fresh cherries out by the bushel. They are now piled high in the bins and on the floor, and Pinkie races to the end of the belt and puts her limbered-up lips to work catching them. In a lot less than ten seconds flat, her mouth is stuffed so full that she faces a real danger of asphyxiation.)
Rarity: Is it because you were insulted when I insulted your hair?
Applejack: No, no, no!
(The camera cuts closer on each “no,” ending with an extreme close-up of her narrowed eyes, then backs off.)
Applejack: I’m not tellin’ you why, so just— (Cut to Fluttershy on the end of this.)
Fluttershy: STOP!!
(Which Applejack does, dropping her haunches to act as the brake. A squeal of wood on hide, a few sparks and some smoke, and inertia does that voodoo that it do so well. The cherries’ forward momentum carries them straight off the belt and across the room—with Applejack finding herself directly in the line of fire. As they smash against her and the wheel, the screen fills with the deep red of their juice and pulp.)
(The mess drains away after a moment to show both her and the wheel thoroughly splattered with the ruined fruit. A loud gasp from the others, save Pinkie, whose mouth is still way too full for her own good; Applejack gets her eyes open, glares at them, and walks off.)
(Clock wipe to a patch of cherry mush on the sorting room floor. A mop is levitated over to clean this up.)
Twilight: (from o.s., dejectedly) Well, girls…
(Longer shot. Now out of uniform, she is plying the mop and a bucket.)
Twilight: …we seem to be striking out.
(Zoom out overhead. The others have also removed their gear and are cleaning up various bits of the place: Rainbow working up high with a mop, Fluttershy using one on the wheel, Pinkie and Rarity scrubbing the conveyor. Pinkie has disposed of her mouthful.)
Rainbow: That’s ’cause we’re playing too nice! (Close-up of Rarity.)
Rarity: Yes. Desperate times do call for desperate measures. (Rainbow descends to her.)
Rainbow: It’s time to call in the big guns!
(Pan quickly to Pinkie, who happily uses her tongue instead of a rag to pick up a bit of cherry slop. The camera cuts closer to her in three steps, ending with a close-up of her unaware yet blissful expression, and the view snaps to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a path leading through the Cherry-O Ranch’s orchards and stopping at a barn and silo. A series of thumps shakes the camera and brings down a shower of leaves and cherries; pan to Applejack, hard at work bucking one tree. She has done away with her sorting-room gear and put her hat back on. After a few hits, she brings down enough fruit to fill a pair of baskets, just in time for Pinkie to zip up.)
Pinkie: Hey, Applejack. Need some help?
Applejack: (suspiciously) You promise not to ask me any questions?
Pinkie: I promise.
(The orange-tan earth pony turns away, the pink one follows, and both turn their efforts to harvesting. Applejack bucks as before, while Pinkie shakes a tree to fill her own basket; after a few tense seconds, Pinkie speaks up, cheerful as always.)
Pinkie: Have you ever had a cherry-changa? (Pause.) Ooh! Sorry. That was a question.
Applejack: That kind of question is fine, Pinkie. No, I-I never had a cherry-changa. (Pinkie gets in her face.)
Pinkie: Well, no wonder, because I made it up myself. (slowly backing Applejack up) A cherry-changa is mashed-up cherries in a tortilla that’s deep-fried. Cherry-changa! Great name, huh?
(Cut to Applejack as she reaches another tree and tries to block out the chatter.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Oh, but maybe I should call it a chimi-cherry. Ooh, that’s good too. (She pops up behind Applejack, who walks off.) Which do you think sounds better? Cherry-changa or chimi-cherry? Or what if I combine them? Chimi-cherry-changa! (Gasp; she follows Applejack.) What sounds the funniest?
(The fed-up cherry picker snags a full basket in her teeth and heads off as Pinkie hops after her.)
Pinkie: I like funny words. One of my favorite funny words is “kumquat.”
(Cut to a head-on view of Applejack during this line; Pinkie then bounces into view behind her.)
Pinkie: I didn’t make that one up. I would work in a kumquat orchard just so I could say “kumquat” all day! (singsong, as Applejack walks off) Kumquat, kumquat, kumquat! (Pause.) And “pickle barrel”! (She catches up again.) Isn’t that just the funnest thing to say? (from various angles) Pickle barrel, pickle barrel, pickle barrel!
(She drops from sight and thrusts a hoof toward the strained orange-tan face.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Say it with me! (Cut to frame both; rapid fire.) Pickle barrel, kumquat, pickle barrel, kumquat, pickle barrel, kumquat, chimi-cherry-changa…
(Cut to an extreme close-up of Applejack’s constricted, darting eyes on the end of this, then zoom out quickly to frame both as she blows her cool. She has dropped her basket, and the stream of funny words continues under the following.)
Applejack: NOOOOOO!! (huddling down) Make it stop! Make it stop!
(Rainbow darts in and claps a hoof over Pinkie’s mouth, but this only muffles the babbling instead of shutting her up. The pegasus has stuffed corks into her own ears for self-protection.)
Rainbow: The only way to make it stop is for you to spill the beans!
Applejack: Never! (Rainbow uncovers Pinkie’s mouth.)
Pinkie: Speaking of beans, did you ever realize how many words rhyme with “beans”?
(Cut to a frightened Applejack, backing up toward a nearby tree; Rainbow holds Pinkie out toward her.)
Pinkie: Lean, mean, spleen, unclean, keen, tureen… (She keeps rhyming under the following.)
Applejack: All right! All right! I’ll tell everypony what’s goin’ on! (as all five friends close in) Just please stop talkin’!
(Only now does the motor-mouthed pony can it; Applejack squats on her haunches by the tree.)
Applejack: But can it wait ’til tomorrow at breakfast? I’m plumb tuckered out. (Rainbow has removed the corks from her ears.)
Rainbow: Tomorrow, huh? I don’t know.
Pinkie: Do you Pinkie-promise?
(This demand is accompanied by the mime she used in “Green Isn’t Your Color”—“cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Applejack mulls it over, then sighs heavily.)
Applejack: I will tell you the whole truth at breakfast. (miming) Pinkie-promise.
(The hoof to her own eye puts the others at ease. Dissolve to the exterior of the Cherry-O barn and silo at sunrise of the following morning. A rooster’s crowing marks the start of the day as the sky goes from orange to blue; inside, Twilight leads her four fellow travelers down a hall.)
Twilight: I’m glad we’re finally gonna get some answers from Applejack. (Rainbow brings up the rear.)
Rainbow: (not convinced) Yeah…maybe.
Pinkie: Don’t worry, Rainbow. She’s gotta fess up after making a Pinkie promise.
(They stop at a closed door and Twilight knocks; cut to the other side as she opens it. Pinkie is first to put her head in past the frame.)
Pinkie: Good morning, Applejack! You ready for break—
(Her face goes slack with surprise, as have the four behind her; cut to their perspective and zoom in slightly. They are looking into a bedroom with a neatly made bed, nightstand, closet, drawn windowshade, pictures on walls—and no Applejack in sight. Back to Pinkie, who voices a huge gasp as her pupils shrink to points. Shock gives way to lip-chewing, eyebrow-lowering rancor, then a paroxysm that sends sweat pouring down her reddening face and bulging cheeks. Her mental steam whistle works its way toward supersonic frequencies for several unbearable seconds; finally she straightens up with eyes burning and steam gushing from both ears.)
Pinkie: Nopony breaks a Pinkie promise!
(A vivid pink blur marks her top-speed departure, leaving the other four to scramble after her as best they can. Cut to the Dodge Junction train station, where an uneasy Applejack waits on the platform along with a few other travelers. She trots in place, saddlebags slung up, as if ready to break into a sprint at any moment—and the next voice instantly makes her wish she had.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) AAAPPLLLEJAAACK!!
(Cut to the approaching quintet and zoom in quickly to a close-up of Pinkie’s face. Her eyes burn yellow as in the hall, but no steam comes from her ears this time.)
Pinkie: (voice reverberating weirdly) YOU PINKIE-PROMISED!!
(The fugitive has enough time for one strangled yelp before galloping off the platform.)
Pinkie: Applejack, come back here!
(Cut to an idle stagecoach and four-stallion team standing in front of a building.)
Applejack: (galloping up) Giddyup, fellas! (She jumps in and stands up behind the driver’s seat.) I gotta get the heck outta Dodge!
(They start off with a rear and neigh, just ahead of the pursuing five.)
Pinkie: She’s gonna get away! (They stop.)
Twilight: Oh, no, she won’t! (pointing ahead) Look, girls!
(Quick pan to a cart, with harnesses for two ponies, sitting empty in the street. A moment later, both unicorns and the earth pony are riding in it while the two pegasi pull.)
Pinkie: Follow that stagecoach!
(Applejack risks a quick glance behind herself. She has a decent lead on her pursuers, but they begin to close the gap.)
Pinkie: Oh, we have you now!
(A rabbit hops into the middle of the street, prompting Fluttershy’s eyes to shrink in horror at the thought of turning it into roadkill. She digs her hooves into the dirt, and the whole cart pivots 180 degrees around her to throw up a screenful of dust. When the view clears, the wheels have stopped inches from the rabbit, which sniffs curiously at them and hops away. Rainbow rolls her eyes wearily at Fluttershy’s sudden attack of compassion, then surprises her by hauling the cart ahead without warning.)
(Applejack smiles at the mishap as the chase moves out of town and into the desert. Close-up; a bump nearly shakes her down to the floor.)
Applejack: Whoa! What the hay?
(She looks off to her left. A longer shot frames Twilight and company, who have pulled even.)
Rainbow: Pull over!
(The cart bangs into the coach—the source of the first bump—and Applejack leans over the side toward it.)
Applejack: Hey! Cut that out! (Another hit; she falls between the passenger seats.) Whooaa!
(She climbs back up and addresses her team.)
Applejack: I’ll pay you double to outrun them! (They speed up.)
Twilight: We’ll pay you triple to slow down! (They do so; the cart moves ahead.)
Applejack: I’ll pay you quadruple to leave them in the dust!
(Which they waste no time in literally doing, so that the five chasers are left choking and coughing in the murk. The view clears after a few seconds.)
Rarity: That was rude!
Pinkie: Get them! GET THEM!!
Rainbow: Come on, Fluttershy!
(Both of them shift up a couple of gears and quickly cut into the coach’s lead. Applejack gets a nasty surprise when she looks back to find them closing in.)
Applejack: (snapping reins) Hyah! (Cut to the two lead stallions; she continues o.s.) Come on, y’all! Go! (Back to her.) Go!
(Even this is not enough to keep her ahead of the cart, and once it has pulled up, Pinkie hurls herself across the gap. Applejack soon finds a pair of furious blue eyes boring into her own at point-blank range.)
Pinkie: Applejack, you broke your Pinkie promise! Apologize!
Applejack: Pinkie, I did not break my promise!
Pinkie: Wha…?
Applejack: If y’all reckon back, I told you that I would tell you everything at breakfast! But I didn’t come to breakfast! I couldn’t come to that breakfast! Not if it meant tellin’ y’all what happened!
Pinkie: Well, I…I…
Applejack: I’m sorry, Pinkie, but I can’t tell y’all the truth. (Cut to Twilight and Rarity, crestfallen; she continues o.s.) I just can’t! (Back to her and Pinkie.)
Pinkie: Well, I heard a “sorry” in there, so that’ll have to do for now. I’ll get a real apology later. (jumping backward off coach) Rarity, catch me!
Rarity: What?! Pinkie!
(Cut briefly to her perspective of the pony plummeting toward her as she screams, then to a head-on view of the cart. The impact dumps both Pinkie and Rarity over the side and leaves Twilight as the only passenger.)
Twilight: Rainbow! Go back! (Zoom out to frame her.)
Rainbow: No time! They knew what they were getting into!
(As the vehicle zooms away toward the horizon, the two jettisoned ponies sit up—badly scuffed, manes askew and full of cactus burrs. Pinkie grins at Rarity, who coughs up another burr and shoots her an icy glare that would freeze her solid if it were at all possible to do so. Meanwhile, Applejack’s coach races over the parched earth, turning it into a drab khaki blur. Not far ahead of her is a railroad crossing whose barriers swing down to block the way as the warning lights and bells start up. The sight throws Applejack for a loop; here comes a speeding train, right on schedule.)
Applejack: (smiling wickedly) Yes! (She pulls her hat down a bit lower.) Hyah!
(A snap of the reins sends her straining team toward the crossing at a truly ludicrous speed. As the train thunders ahead, the two lead stallions toss a puzzled glance back at her focused, almost crazed countenance. Fluttershy and Rainbow gallop flat out, but cannot catch Applejack before her coach smashes through the barriers. The train rolls by a fraction of a second later, the camera positioned so that the locomotive comes straight toward it to black out the screen.)
(Snap to the coach, which finally slows to a stop as Applejack jumps down. The four stallions have reached their physical limits, but her attention is focused entirely on the passing train.)
Applejack: Yee-haa!
Stallions: Lady, you’re trouble!
(And with that, they gallop off, taking the coach with them.)
Applejack: Hah! (Her perspective of the cart, seen through gaps between the cars.) Try and catch me now!
(The camera shifts to roof level, just in time for the winged steeds to take the cart airborne.)
Applejack: Oh, nuts.
(She can only stare openmouthed as it soars over her head and lands neatly close by. Fluttershy heaves for breath as Twilight and Rainbow look daggers at their absent friend, who glares right back and gallops away. Rainbow, having had quite enough of this high-speed chase, pulls out of the harness.)
Rainbow: (flying after Applejack) Not so fast!
(She lays a flying tackle on the escapee that plows her out of sight. The sound of their impact on the earth is accompanied by a ribbon and medal tumbling backwards into view. In close-up, a red second-place ribbon drops among them; pan ahead slightly to frame a disconcerted Applejack flat on her belly, with Rainbow standing over her. The awards are among several that have spilled from her saddlebags. Long silence.)
Applejack: (voice trembling) Fine! (covering eyes) Now you know.
(Twilight and Fluttershy approach the pair, the latter now out of the harness as well.)
Twilight: Know what? (Applejack looks up and stands.)
Applejack: Well, just look! (Cut to Twilight, eyeing the spread.)
Twilight: (smiling) I am! You won an amazing number of ribbons, just like Miss Jubilee said! (A red-ribboned medal is hung into view.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Don’t you get it? (Cut to her.) There’s every color of ribbon down there. Every color…but… (slumping onto haunches, dropping medal) …blue.
(Cut to Twilight and Fluttershy, who are starting to understand the reason for Applejack’s distraught tone.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) I came in fourth, third… (Zoom out slightly; Rainbow steps over.) …even second. (Cut to her and zoom in.) But I didn’t win one first prize—and I certainly didn’t win any prize money. (Rainbow approaches.)
Rainbow: But the telegram said you were gonna send money. (Applejack stands up.)
Applejack: That’s why I came here. (walking off) I wanted to earn some money. After that big old sendoff Ponyville gave me, I just didn’t have the nerve to come home empty-hooved. (hanging her head) I couldn’t come home a failure.
Twilight: (smiling; Fluttershy does the same) Applejack, you’re not a failure. (Rainbow pops up.)
Rainbow: And we’re your friends. (winking) We don’t care if you came in fiftieth place. You’re still number one in our books.
Applejack: So…you’re not upset or disappointed?
Twilight, Fluttershy, Rainbow: (shaking heads) Mmm-mmm! (Applejack zips to Twilight.)
Applejack: But what about the Mayor? I don’t think I can face her and tell her I didn’t get that money to fix the broken roof.
Fluttershy: (reproving, but gentle) Applejack! We can always find a way to fix that hole in the roof, but if you don’t come back, we’ll never be able to fix the hole in our hearts.
(Applejack finally smiles and shares a nuzzle with Twilight and Fluttershy on the end of this. Although Rainbow is out of sight at this point, the camera tilts up to frame her hovering a few feet overhead—and crying softly to boot. She shakes herself out of it angrily.)
Rainbow: Darn it! Now you got me acting all sappy!
(In close-up, the blonde aims a warm smile toward her o.s. friends. Dissolve to another close-up, this one framed in a train window during the journey home.)
Applejack: (voice over, dictating) “Dear Princess Celestia…”
(Zoom out slightly; she waves cheerfully.)
Applejack: (voice over) “It’s a tad easier to be proud when you come in first than it is when you finish further back.”
(The train pulls in at the Ponyville station, whose platform is crammed with Apple family members, well-wishers, and her dog Winona.)
Applejack: (voice over) “But there’s no reason to hide when you don’t do as well as you’d hoped.”
(As soon as she steps onto the platform, Winona happily knocks her flat, to the amusement of Twilight and Fluttershy on the train.)
Applejack: (voice over) “You can’t run away from your problems.”
(Pan along the platform; Macintosh tries and fails to hold back his tears of joy as the other ponies smile in welcome.)
Applejack: (voice over) “Better to run to your friends and family.”
(Macintosh, Granny, and Bloom dog-pile on Applejack as the rest of the group watches happily, including a now-hovering Rainbow. Dissolve to a stretch of the desert railroad well outside Dodge Junction. A handcar rolls squeakily into view on the tracks, with Pinkie and Rarity working opposite ends of the handle to keep it moving. Since none of the other four apparently thought to come back for them, they are making their way home the only way they can, short of walking.)
Pinkie: I mean, which do you think, Rarity? (in rhythm with handle motions) Chimi-cherry or cherry-changa? Chimi-cherry? Cherry-changa? Chimi-cherry? Cherry-changa? Chimi-cherry? Cherry-changa? Chimi-cherry? Cherry-changa?
(She keeps repeating these two names under the next line.)
Rarity: (to herself, exasperated) When I get back, you’re gonna get it, Rainbow Dash!
(Now she adds her own sotto-voce grumblings to Pinkie’s incessant repetitions as the handcar carries the two disheveled mares toward the horizon. Fade to black.)
THE SUPER SPEEDY CIDER SQUEEZY 6000
Written by M.A. Larson
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of Fluttershy’s cottage at night, then cut to the mare of the house, fast asleep in bed. This bedroom is the upstairs one that she let the Cutie Mark Crusaders use during their sleepover in “Stare Master.” A knock at the door brings her up to a sitting position with a yawn.)
Fluttershy: (sleepily) Who could that be? It’s still dark.
(The noise of Rainbow Dash’s high-speed arrival through the window snaps her fully awake in one terrifying instant. As she cranes her neck to peek over the headboard, the blue pegasus leans frantically up into her face.)
Rainbow: Come on, Fluttershy! Cider season’s about to start!
(She yanks the blanket off the bed; Fluttershy throws a surprised look at her exposed form, then covers herself with a blush and a squeaky, embarrassed grin. Cut to outside the window as she gets bulldozed through it with a scream. The sky is lightening into sunrise; close-up of Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: Oh, where are we? What’s the rush?
Rainbow: (from o.s.) The rush? (She pulls away; now they fly separately.) Don’t you remember what happened last year, or the year before that, or pretty much any cider season ever?
Fluttershy: Um, well, uh…
Rainbow: Pinkie Pie! She always ends up ahead of us in line, and then they always run out of cider!
Fluttershy: I guess I—
Rainbow: Well, not this year!
(Cut to ground level; a rabbit emerges groggily from its burrow.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) This year, I’m gonna get there before sunrise— (The pegasi flash past and o.s., blowing it into a tumble on the dirt.) —so I can drink all the cider I want and laugh when she doesn’t get any!
(Back to the pair; she is now pushing Fluttershy ahead.)
Rainbow: It’s the perfect plan. (She zooms ahead, savoring a new thought.) You know, I might even buy some cider and hold on to it for a while, drinking it drop by drop in front of her.
(She comes to a screeching halt with a strangled, slack-jawed cry of horror. Zoom out quickly to put her and Fluttershy at a very long distance above a road leading through Sweet Apple Acres; it is lined with tents pitched by eager customers.)
Fluttershy: Gee, Rainbow Dash, looks like a few other ponies had the same idea.
(On the end of this line, the camera pans away from them and reaches the head of the line, where a cider stand has been set up. Tubs of apples and stacked barrels are on hand, and one barrel has been set up on the counter and hooked to a tap. The first tent in line is three shades of pink and decorated with balloons, both on its fabric and tethered to the frame. Its flap gets unzipped from inside, releasing a few loose balloons and allowing Pinkie Pie to step out as Fluttershy descends to her.)
Fluttershy: Oh, gosh, Pinkie. (The balloons float off, revealing Pinkie’s disheveled mane.) I love your new style. (Rainbow flies down.)
Rainbow: Who are all these ponies? (Pinkie’s mane snaps to order.)
Pinkie: (excitedly) Isn’t this great? I couldn’t sleep last night ’cause I was so excited about cider season, and I had this brilliant idea to come down here and camp out, so I told a few others about it, and they all thought it was a great idea too— (hugging both) —and now it’s just a big old cider party! (jumping up o.s.) Woo-hoo!
(She comes down a few yards away, face first, and looks off down the line.)
Pinkie: Oh, gosh. (Cut to the other tents; she continues o.s.) That’s a lot of ponies. (Back to her, trotting past the pegasi.) Hope they don’t run out before you get any.
(Zoom in slowly to a close-up of a snarling Rainbow, then fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to the cider stand. All four local Apple family members are on duty: Applejack setting up a megaphone on a stand in front, Granny Smith and Apple Bloom behind the counter, Big Macintosh at the barrel stockpile. Granny wears a green eyeshade visor. Pan away from the stand to frame the line of thirsty equines stretching toward Ponyville, with Twilight Sparkle and Rarity among them and Spike between these two. A quick zoom picks out Fluttershy and Rainbow far, far back in the queue. The irritated blue cider aficionado throws a glare ahead, after which the camera cuts to a close-up of Twilight, seen from the chest down; she steps ahead as the line moves.)
Twilight: Isn’t this exciting, Spike? (Head level; she looks back.) Opening day of cider season!
Spike: Yeah! That means it’s only thirty more days ’til sapphire season! (Both unicorns roll their eyes at this; he lets his tongue hang out.)
Applejack: (from o.s., amplified) Attention, everypony! (Cut to her at the megaphone.) Cider season is now officially open!
(Cut to an overhead shot of her and zoom out on the last word. Her announcement sets off excited murmurs among the ponies, while Granny nods to Bloom and glances toward the open, empty cash box on the counter. Pinkie hauls up two full bags in her teeth and empties a shower of coins into the box, prompting Bloom to pump the tap handle and fill a waiting mug. This is plucked away and guzzled down to leave froth on Pinkie’s lips and a blissful expression on her face, which shifts gears into a huge eager smile. A moment later, she is toting all the brimming, bubbly mugs that her forelegs can manage; the line trudges ahead and Rainbow gives her an incredibly dirty look. The blue jaw drops in disbelief.)
(At the stand, business continues at a brisk pace. Images of paying customers, drinkers, mugs, and the tap superimpose themselves over each other on the screen for a few moments, ending with a dissolve to one sated stallion who walks off to make room for Cheerilee to buy a mug. After she has had her fill, dissolve to Bloom at the tap—which chooses this moment to dispense only a few drops and a burp of gas. A grab by Macintosh removes the emptied barrel, a nudge from his rear hooves topples a fresh one from the pile onto his back, and he quickly hooks up the new supply. Rainbow glares impatiently from her spot behind Fluttershy in the line.)
(The view alternates between the steadily shrinking inventory and a suddenly worried Rainbow, and in due time Macintosh gets the very last barrel on his back and hauls it in. From here, dissolve to the stand, where Fluttershy has finally made it to the counter. She and Rainbow both pay, and a foamy mug is dispensed for the patient yellow pegasus, who moves off to make room for her friend. The red-violet eyes grow as the tongue lolls greedily out—and then the tap runs dry—and the blue face cycles from anticipation to teary-eyed disappointment to teeth-grinding rage. She does, however, keep herself under enough control to let off only a subdued growl as Applejack walks up, no longer using the megaphone.)
Applejack: Uh…sorry, everypony. That’s it for today.
Line: Awww… (Rainbow flies over to her.)
Rainbow: (very snarky) Surprise, surprise. You ran out again! (Pan to Caramel on Applejack’s other side.)
Caramel: Yeah, you always run out!
Fluttershy: For the record, I don’t mind— (Rainbow lands in front of her.)
Rainbow: Why can’t you make enough cider for all of us—or at least for me?
(The workhorse finds herself without a ready answer as a throng of annoyed, grumbling would-be customers starts to hem her in. She jumps onto the counter.)
Applejack: Hold on, everypony. (They fall silent.) We’ve done our best to improve supply this year.
Caramel: You always say that!
Applejack: And it’s always true. But Apple family cider is made with love and integrity, and only the highest-quality apples in Equestria.
(On the end of this, pan from her to the rest of the family at the barrel end of the counter. The camera hen cuts back to her.)
Applejack: Sorry, but that recipe takes time.
(Cut to a pan along the dissatisfied complainers—with Twilight, Rarity, and Spike holding their tongues—then back to the counter as all disperse.)
Applejack: If y’all just be patient, we’ll have plenty more tomorrow.
(Rainbow turns to leave, but finds the ever-cheerful Pinkie standing directly behind her.)
Pinkie: She’s right, you know. You can’t rush perfection, and this year’s batch was perfection! (Pan to Fluttershy, standing behind her.)
Fluttershy: Uh, Pinkie Pie? (Pinkie zips to Rainbow and drops a foreleg over her shoulders.)
Pinkie: (dreamily) I’ll never forget the cider I just drank. (draping herself bodily over Rainbow) It was a moment in time that will never exist again.
(She voices an ecstatic little moan, having paid no heed to Fluttershy’s warning or the steadily building fury on Rainbow’s face. Cut to a close-up of said face and zoom in slowly as its owner launches into a rising growl, the sort that would get any self-respecting dog shot on suspicion of having rabies. Her boil-over and Pinkie’s reverie are interrupted by the honking of a horn; zoom out as they look toward it, then cut to a long shot of the source. A vehicle is chugging along the road toward the few remaining ponies; close-ups from different angles reveal wooden wagon wheels mounted in old-style automobile wheel wells, coiled wires, and vacuum tubes.)
Applejack: (trotting to Pinkie, Rainbow) What in Equestria is that?
(Chuffing smokestacks are now seen at the rear end of the contraption; now all the ponies eagerly move in toward it, leaving a puzzled Applejack behind. Up front, two headlights are mounted on the front fenders, between which a speaker’s platform is mounted. A lectern stands at the front edge of this, and the front edge of a red couch pokes into view from the area behind the fenders. Two pairs of cream-colored pony hind legs are extended into view, suggesting that their owners are reclining on the couch.)
(Macintosh and Bloom stare dumbfounded as the shadow of this thing casts itself over them and the stand, and Granny gapes from her position at a nearby fence. The cowcatcher-style front grille knocks over one post at it chuffs to a stop, and the vehicle is seen in full for the first time. The body is red, the fenders and running boards black, and the front wheels are much larger than the rear ones in the style of old penny-farthing bicycles. Overall, the vehicle design is similar to that of a gigantic, open-topped antique roadster automobile, with machinery stacked up where the rear seats would go and various controls and pipes built into the side. Red/white striped hems hang down from the side edges of the front platform.)
Jaunty calliope-style melody with strings, woodwinds, brass, light percussion
Lively 4, in time with machine noises (F major)
Lines spoken in rhythm are indicated with one asterisk (*)
(A suddenly happy Rainbow inserts herself among the confused onlookers as the two riders jump down just in front of the camera to look them over. From this angle, they are both green-eyed stallions, with carefully styled red/white-striped manes; one has a red mustache. They wear straw boater hats with blue bands, and a head-on view and slow tilt up frames them in full detail. Blue/white striped vests over white shirts with sleeves rolled up, dark gray bow ties, tails that match the manes. The clean-shaven one has a cutie mark that shows a single apple slice, while the mark of the mustachioed one consists of a red apple with one slice cut out. These two are Flim and Flam, respectively, both unicorns.)
* Flim: Well, looky what we got here, brother of mine, it’s the same in every town
(He jumps over to the crowd and closes Berry Punch’s incredulous mouth.)
Ponies with thirsty throats, dry tongues, and not a drop of cider to be found
(He backs up to Flam.)
Maybe they’re not aware that there’s really no need for this teary despair
Flam: That the key that they need to solve this sad cider shortage, you and I will share
Machine noises out
(General excited talk among a knot of ponies; now both make their way through the crowd, waving their hats.)
Flim, Flam: Well, you got opportunity in this very community (Cut to Flim.)
Flam: He’s Flim (Pan to Flam.)
Flim: He’s Flam
Flim, Flam: We’re the world-famous Flim Flam Brothers
Traveling salesponies nonpareil
Pinkie: Nonpa—what? (Flim zips over to her.)
[Note: “Nonpareil” is a French word that means “without equal.”]
Machine noises in
* Flim: Nonpareil, and that’s exactly the reason why, you see
(Several others gather around him, including Bloom.)
Nopony else in this whole place will give you such a chance to be where you need
to be
(A kiss on Bloom’s head, and he jumps up to the platform.)
And that’s a new world with tons of cider, fresh-squeezed and ready for drinking
(Tilt quickly up to Flam, sitting on a nozzle and hose he has bent with his magic. He slides down its length.)
Flam: More cider than you could drink in all your days of thinking
Machine noises out
Rainbow: I doubt that!
(The nozzle straightens out; the brothers drop to ground level and do another soft-shoe bit.)
Flim, Flam: So take this opportunity
Flim, Flam, Crowd: In this very community
Flam: He’s Flim
Flim: He’s Flam
Flim, Flam: We’re the world-famous Flim Flam Brothers
Traveling salesponies nonpareil
Machine noises in
* Flim: I suppose by now you’re wondering ’bout our peculiar mode of transport
(Pan to it; Flam pops up in front.)
Flam: I say, our mode of locomotion
(Flim jumps to the lectern.)
* Flim: And I suppose by now you’re wondering, where is this promised cider?
Flam: Any horse can make a claim and anypony can do the same
* Flim: But my brother and I have something most unique and superb
Unseen at any time in this great new world
Flim, Flam: And that’s opportunity
Machine noises out (D major, modulating back to F major)
(Each starts to work the crowd again.)
Flim: Yes, folks, it’s the one and only, the biggest and the best
Stoptime
* Flam: The unbelievable
* Flim: Unimpeachable
* Flam: Indispensable
* Flim: I-can’t-believable
Stoptime ends
Flim, Flam: Flim Flam Brothers’ Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six Thousand
Flam: (to Rarity) What do you say, sister?
(The white unicorn swoons and comes within an ace of hitting the ground, stopped only by Spike’s straining to hold her up. Twilight looks uneasily toward the enthralled spectators as the camera pans away from the trio.)
Crowd: Oh, we got opportunity in this very community
Stoptime
Please, Flim, please, Flam, help us out of this jam
With your Flim Flam Brothers’ Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six Thousand
Stoptime ends
(Now Flim steps up to the counter and bows gallantly to Applejack, while the rest of the family watches from behind.)
Machine noises in
Modulate gradually upward in whole steps, stopping at G major in the next octave
Flim: Young filly, I would be ever so honored if you might see fit to let my brother and I borrow some of your delicious, and might I add, spellbindingly fragrant apples for our little demonstration here?
Applejack: Uh, sure, I guess. (He darts away.)
Machine noises out
Crowd: Opportunity in our community
Flam: Ready, Flim
Flim: Ready, Flam
Flim, Flam: Let’s bing-bang-zam
(Two beams of unicorn magic lance from their horns; cut to the machinery and zoom out as the spells kick it into gear.)
Flim: (from o.s.) And show these thirsty ponies a world of delectable cider!
Machine noises in
(The overhead nozzle that Flam slid down extends on its hose, and the crowd begins to chant “Cider, cider, cider, cider” in rhythm with the music. Rainbow hovers among them, tongue hanging out. In short order, the nozzle positions itself directly above one loaded apple tree and vacuums all the fruit from its branches.)
* Flim: Watch closely, my friends
(The load is sucked into a drum, which spins up to high speed.)
Flam: The fun begins
(Tilt up slightly; Flim stands among the machinery.)
Flim: Now here’s where the magic happens. (A glass reservoir starts to fill.) Right here in this heaving, roiling cider press, the coiling guts of the very machine—
(Cut to the crowd; Twilight, Rarity, and Spike have now joined the chant.)
Flim: (from o.s.) —those apples plucked fresh are right now, as we speak— (Back to the drum; zoom out to frame him.) —being turned into grade-A, top-notch, five-star, blow-your-horseshoes-off, one-of-a-kind cider! (Tilt down to Flam at the controls.)
Flam: Feel free to take a sneak peek
(Several do so; pan quickly to an irked Granny. The crowd stops chanting.)
Machine noises out; stoptime (E major)
* Granny: Now wait, you fellers, hold it, you went and oversold it
(getting in Flam’s face)
I guarantee that what you have there won’t compare
Stoptime ends
(turning toward crowd)
For the very most important ingredient can’t be added or done expedient
(Cut to the crowd and back as she continues; they start to nod agreement.)
And that’s quality, friends, Apple Acres quality and care
(Now Flim turns his attention to her, having climbed down from atop the rig.)
D major
* Flim: Well, Granny, I’m glad you brought that up, my dearest, I am glad you brought
that up
You see that we are very picky when it comes to cider, if you’ll kindly try a cup
(He produces a full mug on the end of this line and darts away; she takes a sip and finds that it sits very well with her. Something cranks up from the machine’s general direction.)
Flam: Yes, sir, yes, ma’am
(Close-up of the side window, through which a pair of conveyor belts can be seen. Good apples are passed with a bell; bad ones are buzzed out and dumped off.)
This great machine lets just the very best
(Zoom out to frame him alongside.)
So what do you say, then, Apples?
(crossing to them) Care to step into the modern world
And put the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six Thousand to the test?
Machine noises in; modulate upward in two whole steps to G flat major
(The crowd starts its “cider” chant again.)
Flim: What do you think, folks? Do you see what the Apples can’t? I see it clear as day! (pointing around) I know she does! So does he! Come on, Ponyville, you know what I’m talking about!
Machine noises out
(Crowd stops; the brothers do their soft-shoe bit again while Rainbow does high-altitude backflips behind the entire scene.)
Flim, Flam: We’re saying you’ve got
Flim, Flam, Crowd: Opportunity in this very community
He’s Flim, he’s Flam, we’re the world-famous Flim Flam Brothers
Traveling salesponies nonpareil
(As they hold out the last word, the camera cuts to an overhead view of the area and zooms out/jumps back in steps before zooming in quickly to a close-up.)
Flim, Flam: Yeah!
Song ends with a stinger on this last word
Bloom: You got a deal! (Agreeable murmurs from the crowd.)
Granny: (stomping angrily) Not so fast!
(The four Apples gather in a huddle, the camera pointing up from the center of the circle to frame their faces. Close-up of Granny, panning to each of the others in turn.)
Granny: No way, nohow that machine matches up with the care we put in our cider!
Bloom: But if it really does work, we could make everypony in town happy.
Applejack: I just don’t know, y’all. We’ve always made cider the same way.
Macintosh: Ee-yup.
(Zoom out to frame all of them—and the brothers as well, who have confidently slipped into the huddle.)
Macintosh: (surprised) Huh?
Flim: We’ll sweeten the deal. You supply the apples…
Flam: …we supply the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six Thousand.
Flim, Flam: Then we split those sweet, sweet profits…
Flim: …seventy-five…
Flam: …twenty-five. (Cut to Bloom.)
Bloom: Deal! (Applejack’s hoof claps over her mouth.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Hold on. (Cut to her; huddle broken.) Who gets the seventy-five? (Flim leans over to her.)
Flim: Why, us, naturally. (Pan to her other side; Flam straightens up.)
Flam: (horn flaring briefly) And we’ll throw in the magic to power the machine for free!
(Applejack steps away from the brothers for a quick talk with the family.)
Applejack: Cider sales keep our business afloat through the winter. We’d lose Sweet Apple Acres if we agree to this.
Flim, Flam: So, what’ll it be?
Macintosh: No deal.
Flim: Hmph. Very well. If you refuse our generous offer to be partners, then we’ll just have to be competitors.
Applejack: You wouldn’t dare!
Flim: Oh, no?
(His nod across the way is Flam’s cue to address the crowd from the 6000’s platform.)
Flam: Don’t you worry, everypony! There’ll be plenty of cider for all of you! (Excited reactions.)
Flim: (aside, to Applejack) Once we drive Sweet Apple Acres out of business.
(A quadraphonic gasp from the Apples.)
Bloom: What?!?
(Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a very new and very long line of expectant cider buyers stretching over the hills toward Ponyville, just as before. The sun rises over the hills to mark this as the next morning, and a quick pan brings the restocked cider stand into view. The fence post knocked down by the 6000 has been repaired. Pinkie is first up, dropping a few coins into the cash box and receiving a mug, and a partial dissolve superimposes the advancing customers’ hooves against the counter. This latter image cuts to Macintosh, who brings in a new barrel as the former fades away; pan from here to a worried Twilight, Applejack, and Spike.)
Twilight: Still worried about Flim and Flam?
Spike: Granny Smith says they were just blowing hot air.
Applejack: I’m not so sure. They sounded mighty serious when they threatened to run us outta business.
Bloom: (from o.s.) That’s it! (Quick pan to the dripping tap.) Last cup!
(The focus shifts from it to the queued-up locals, who groan loudly as Rainbow rises into view from the top of the farthest hill.)
Rainbow: OH, FOR PETE’S SAKE!! (Cut to Bloom.)
Bloom: Come on back tomorrow, everypony!
(General disgruntlement; Rainbow has clapped a foreleg over her eyes in disgust, but lowers it at the sound of the 6000 cranking up. Applejack falls out from her position, looking up wide-eyed as the thing’s shadow advances over her, and Granny nails in the new fence post just in time for the front grille to knock it over again. She throws a venomous glare up at the 6000 as Flim disembarks and sidles up to Applejack.)
Flim: What seems to be the problem here? (Flam slips in on her other side.)
Flam: Oh my, oh my! Out of cider again?
(Cut to the 6000’s rear end, which sports a shelf loaded with barrels and an attached chute. Flim reclines against one rear fender as a barrel is lowered into position.)
Flim: What have we here?
(It rolls down the chute and is flipped upward; cut to a close-up as it lands near the front wheels.)
Flim: (from o.s.) Who’d like a cup?
(Twilight, Applejack, and Spike are promptly swept up in a stampede of clamoring ponies, with dust boiling up to fill the screen. After the view clears, Flim and Flam stand before them, each with one foreleg propped on the barrel; Flam levitates a mug.)
Flam: Don’t worry, everypony!
(Cut to Applejack, who gasps in surprise and ducks down o.s.)
Flam: (from o.s.) We’ve got the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six Thousand to make more in an instant!
(On the end of this, the mug floats to Rainbow, who slips a hoof through its handle and prepares to slake her thirst. Before she can get a mouthful, though, Applejack comes up with a rope in her teeth and lassos the barrel away, to the salesponies’ great surprise. It knocks the mug from Rainbow’s grip as she yanks it back and plants it in front of herself, plunking both forelegs on top.)
Applejack: You can’t sell that cider!
(The airborne tankard hits the dirt, its contents spilling out and soaking in as Rainbow frantically leans down over the mess. With no more liquid handy, she scoops up the saturated earth and shovels it into her mouth.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) That’s made from Apple family apples! (Rainbow stands up, her face dirty.)
Rainbow: Is this some kind of cruel joke? (Back to the brothers.)
Flim: Don’t worry, everypony! There are plenty of apples in Equestria. We’ll find some others and make more cider than all of Ponyville can drink!
(The crowd gasps; Bloom jumps out in front of them.)
Bloom: We’ll make more cider than you could ever imagine!
(Cut to Flam on the end of this; he reacts with alarm, but the nearest onlookers gasp in her direction. In close-up, the defiant filly is suddenly yanked away; a longer shot reveals that Macintosh has her tail in his mouth and is dangling her upside down before Applejack and Granny.)
Granny: Now it ain’t about the speed, young’un, it’s about quality. (Cut to Fluttershy and several others on the end of this.)
Fluttershy, Crowd: (disappointed) Awww… (Rainbow hovers over them, her face now clean.)
Rainbow: Who cares how good the cider is if I never get to drink any?
(Flim pinches her cheeks between his forelegs.)
Flim: Aw, look at these poor dissatisfied ponies.
Bloom: Ponyville is Sweet Apple cider country! (Macintosh drops her.)
Applejack: Our cider speaks for itself! (Flim lounges on the 6000’s couch.)
Flim: Let’s put it to the test.
Bloom: Anywhere, anytime!
(She smirks over her shoulder; murmurs floating from the o.s. crowd; Granny leans in toward her.)
Granny: Uh, that’s enough now.
Flam: With our machine, we can make enough cider in one hour to satisfy this entire town! (Cut to Bloom on the end of this; she pushes Granny back.)
Bloom: We’ll do it in forty-five minutes!
(The crowd continues to register its surprise; meanwhile, Flim relaxes on the couch with his boater tipped forward over his eyes.)
Granny: Easy, Apple Bloom, easy. (Focus shifts from her to Flim, in the background.)
Flim: What’s the matter, Granny Smith? Chicken?
(That last word hits a nerve under the white mane as the focus returns to her.)
Granny: (icily) What did you call me, sonny?
Flim: If you’re so confident in your cider, then what’s the problem? (She leans into his face with renewed ire.)
Granny: Tomorrow mornin’, right here!
Flam: (floating an apple toward himself) But I’m afraid we haven’t any… (Spit on it; polish on vest.) …apples.
Granny: You can use our south field! It’ll be worth it to teach y’all a thing or two ’bout cider-making! (Flim sits up.)
Flim: Excellent! We have a bet. Whoever produces the most barrels in one hour wins the exclusive right to sell cider in Ponyville.
(Cut to Granny on the end of this, then to Applejack. Sweat beads on her brow as her eyes pop wide open and the green irises shrink almost to points, but the brothers just aim a pair of cocky grins straight ahead. Cut to a close-up of one cream-colored hoof and one wrinkled green one being shaken to seal the agreement.)
Granny: (from o.s.) And after we beat you— (Cut to frame all three; the shake broken.) —I don’t never want to see you bambahoozlers around here again!
(She stalks off; Twilight and Applejack trade an uneasy look, as do Macintosh and Bloom; the onlookers talk amongst themselves. From the 6000’s platform, the brothers regard the scene.)
Flam: Until… (They bow and tip their hats.) …tomorrow.
(The rig chugs away down the road, leaving Applejack staring nervously after them. She turns to Twilight.)
Twilight: Don’t worry, Applejack. I know you’ll win tomorrow.
Applejack: We’d better, ’cause if we don’t… (walking past her) …we’re gonna lose our farm.
(The throng slowly disperses to leave the four kinfolk standing despondently around the cider stand. Dissolve to a stretch of clear blue sky and tilt down to it; rows of ponies have gathered at the fence on either side of the stand to observe the goings-on. Beyond it is a dirt path leading through a meadow bordered by groves of apple trees, with the Apples and the brothers set up on opposite sides. Mayor Mare stands on the path in the distance, between the two groups and with an hourglass. Spike is near her, as is a pony who cannot be identified at this distance.)
(Close-up of Macintosh, a pair of goggles propped on his forehead, as he trots in place to limber up his hooves. Zoom out to frame Granny at a couple of empty apple tubs; she has traded her eyeshade for a pair of eyeglasses on a jeweled chain and is sniffing deeply at an apple she holds. Elsewhere, Applejack has set up a heavy bag and is taking a few practice bucks, with Bloom hanging on to provide extra weight. Twilight walks over to these two.)
Twilight: Applejack, are you sure this is such a good idea?
Applejack: (between bucks) Me and the family are…a hundred percent confident…in our cider-makin’ capabilities.
Bloom: And besides, nopony calls Granny a chicken!
(The next buck sends her flying; Twilight turns the situation over a few dozen times in her head before Mayor Mare’s voice cuts in.)
Mayor Mare: (from o.s.) Attention, everypony!
Twilight: Well, good luck.
(She walks off as a badly disoriented Bloom staggers back to her big sister.)
Applejack: Thanks, Twilight. (Bloom collapses; she continues to herself.) We’ll need it.
(Cut to frame the entire meadow and the spectators again.)
Mayor Mare: The teams have one hour to produce as much cider as they can— (Close-up.) —after which the barrels will be counted and the winner will be named the sole cider provider for all of Ponyville.
(On the end of this, cut to Flim and Flam on the 6000’s couch; they smirk at each other and the mug Flim holds. A closer shot of Mayor Mare and Spike reveals that the extra pony on the scene is Doctor Whooves, who has put on a white shirt collar and green necktie for the occasion. Murmurs from the crowd.)
Mayor Mare: Are both teams ready?
(Macintosh socks his goggles into place, Granny glares toward the adversaries with a snort, Bloom blows her mane back from her face, and Applejack stands resolutely at the fore.)
Applejack: Ready!
Flim, Flam: (leisurely; Flam raising a foreleg) Ready.
(Back to Mayor Mare.)
Mayor Mare: Then let’s…
(Pan to Spike and Whooves; the latter inverts the hourglass. Cut to a close-up of its full upper half and tilt down to frame the Apples, visible through the empty glass below, as the sand starts to run.)
Mayor Mare: (from o.s.) …GO!
(All but Granny race toward their base of operations, while she shambles after them at her usual arthritic pace. The two brothers do not stir from their couch; Flam just yawns in a bored manner as both fire up their horns. Extending over the treetops, the nozzle stops at one particular tree and sucks up its apples. At ground level, Applejack relies on hind-leg power to bring down a load for Bloom to catch in a tub on her head. Quick pan to Granny as the filly brings the fruit over for inspection and whisks an empty tub away. The high end of a chute extends into view behind the old green mare, who sniffs one apple at a time.)
Granny: (throwing one away) Ugh! Bad ’un… (tossing one on chute) …good ’un…
(Cut to follow the good one as it rolls toward a large, rotating stone wheel.)
Granny: (from o.s.) …bad ’un…
(It drops off the end near the wheel and is crushed to pulp. Tilt up to frame the rig’s upper portion, then down to a treadmill on its other side—with Macintosh’s hooves racing along to power the press. As soon as each good apple drops in, the whirling mass pulverizes it to generate a steady stream of cider that flows from a tap into a waiting barrel. The moment the vessel is full, Macintosh steps off, slaps on a lid, bangs the full one aside with an empty, and gets back on the treadmill.)
Applejack: (bucking a tree) Great job, y’all! (Cut to the falling apples; she continues o.s.) We’ve already filled an entire barrel!
(Her little sister zips in with a tub to catch them on the end of this.)
Bloom: (zipping to Granny, setting it down) I’ll bet you those guys don’t even have—
(The sentence trails off as she Granny, and Macintosh voice a wide-eyed triplicate gasp. Cut to a close-up of the 6000’s draining reservoirs.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) What?
(Pan to the rear end; a full barrel is swiftly ejected onto the chute and flipped away to land neatly atop two others. A zoom out frames these three and another row of three supporting them—a pyramid of six barrels in all—and the brothers wave mockingly at the family. Cut to a gobsmacked Applejack, who swallows hard as the camera zooms in on her, and snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the 6000’s nozzle sucking the apples off a tree, then cut to a close-up of the conveyor belts visible through its side window. Good apples are passed through, a bad one is rejected, and the full barrels keep flying off the rear chute. Zoom out to put another tree in the foreground as Applejack bucks it, then cut to the shell-shocked Bloom, who forgets to catch the apples in the tub on her head.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Come on, Apple Bloom, focus! (Cut to her.) We gotta forget those guys if we’re gonna have a chance of winnin’! (Bloom shakes her head clear.)
Bloom: Sorry, sis! (rushing to Granny with full tub) Better keep up, Granny! We’re fallin’ behind!
(The Apple matriarch now stands among a backlog of loads; Bloom grabs an empty in her teeth and sprints back, leaving the sweating Granny to wipe her tired eyes.)
Granny: (sniffing apple, tossing over shoulder) Good ’un…
(Cut to Macintosh, who—incredible as it might seem—is flagging badly on the treadmill hooked to the cider press.)
Granny: (from o.s.) …ugh! Bad ’un… (Cut to Applejack.)
Applejack: Rest when it’s over, Big Macintosh! (Back to him; she continues o.s.) Ride! Ride!
(Summoning up his second or third or seventeenth wind, he puts on a burst of speed so that cider positively gushes from the tap. Cut to Applejack’s five friends at the fence.)
Rarity: This is just dreadful!
(Close-up of the filling barrel on the end of this; Macintosh seals it and brings in a new one.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) Even at top speed, the Apples are only making one barrel to the twins’ three!
(On the end of this line, cut to the 6000 and its reclining operators; the fresh loads of product join an uncomfortably tall stack. Twilight chews the production problem over in her mind for a second, then advances grimly toward Spike and Mayor Mare.)
Twilight: Um, Ms. Mayor! (Head-on view; the other four have joined her.) Are honorary family members allowed to help in the competition?
Mayor Mare: Well, I’m not sure. (addressing herself toward the brothers) Flim? Flam?
(Cut to them and the 6000, which is still going great guns.)
Mayor Mare: (from o.s.) Would you object to honorary family members helping? (Flim drinks from a mug.)
Flim: (smugly) Are you kidding?
Flam: (ditto) We don’t care if the whole kingdom of Canterlot helps! It’s a lost cause.
Mayor Mare: (to Twilight) Oh, my. I guess it’s okay. (addressing herself toward the Apples) Applejack, what do you think?
(Applejack delivers a furious buck to the nearest tree and stands upright, her perspiring face lined with fatigue.)
Applejack: I think I’d love to have the rest of my family helpin’ out. (Twilight smiles.)
Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity: All right!
(The decision throws only the briefest of scares into the cider hucksters; now the four backup troops stand to attention as Twilight paces sternly down their line.)
Twilight: Okay, everypony. We’re not gonna let those smooth talkers take our friend’s farm.
Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity: Yeah! (She moves to each in turn.)
Twilight: Fluttershy, help Applejack with the trees.
Fluttershy: Got it!
Twilight: Pinkie Pie, you’re on apple-catching detail.
Pinkie: (saluting) Yes, sir, ma’am, sir!
Twilight: Rarity, you’ve got a discerning eye. Help Granny Smith at the quality control station.
Rarity: Of course!
Twilight: Rainbow Dash, do you think you can help Big Macintosh press?
Rainbow: In my sleep!
(The screen is swiftly tiled in with a pattern of green checks and red apples; the faces of the quintet slide in as well, displayed on five large red apples. They end up in a row, with Twilight at the center.)
Twilight: All right, everypony. Let’s save Sweet Apple Acres!
Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity: All right!
(The view slides apart to frame Applejack galloping toward a tree to buck it. As the apples fall loose, Fluttershy flies past and disappears among the boughs of a neighboring tree. A quick shake dislodges all the fruit; she zooms to another one for a repeat performance, and Pinkie gallops up with an empty tub on her head.)
Pinkie: (pointing ahead) Over there, Apple Bloom! Don’t miss them! (Bloom slides up to catch some in her own tub.)
Bloom: (pointing back) Right behind you, Pinkie Pie!
(The pink earth pony does a high backflip, the tub making a perfect touchdown on her cranium so that a few apples land neatly within. Quick pan to Granny, now sorting at high speed.)
Granny: Good ’un…bad ’un…bad ’un…good ’un…
(Pan to Rarity nearby, standing behind her own clutch of loaded tubs. She uses her magic to toss the apples in the proper direction as Granny’s voice continues underneath hers.)
Rarity: Lovely…horrid…horrid…lovely…
(Rainbow, meanwhile, is galloping on the treadmill alongside Macintosh; a knowing smile passes between the two while cider pours into the barrel. Once it is full, Twilight telekinetically seals it, whisks it away, and brings in a new one. Cut to the growing pyramid of full loads.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Based on these figures— (Back to her, now taking notes with a levitated quill/scroll.) —we’re making five barrels for every three of theirs! (The crowd cheers.)
Applejack: Keep it up, everypony! We’re back in this!
(That pronouncement puts enough of a scare into Flim to propel his mouthful of cider into Flam’s face.)
Flim: (grabbing Flam’s shoulders) Come on, brother! We’ve gotta pick up the pace!
Flam: Right! Uh, double the power!
(Twin beams from their horns kick the 6000 into overdrive, sending sparks up through the vacuum tubes and flinging the vacuum nozzle toward the trees. It sucks up a fresh load of apples handily enough, but the power boost causes it to pull in entire trees as well. Rotten apples, leaves, twigs, mulch—all are swiftly rejected at the inspection station as a panicked Flim watches.)
Flim: We gotta try something else! (Zoom out slightly; Flam stands alongside.)
Flam: I’ve got it…
(Close-up of a set of start/stop buttons beneath a green check mark—the power switch for this module. He reaches into view toward it.)
Flam: (from o.s.) …brother of mine!
(A press shuts off the automatic inspector. Every piece of junk to hit the conveyors gets passed along and winds up in the reservoirs.)
Flim: (from o.s.) Well done, Flam! (Nasty-looking barrels are flung off the rear chute.) We’re at top productivity!
(They trade a knee/hoof high five as the crowd cheers; over at the Apples’ cider press, Rainbow is so distracted by the news that she hovers off the treadmill. Macintosh gets dragged under with a yell.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Come on, Rainbow Dash! (Cut to her.) Keep grinding!
Rainbow: We don’t have time for quality control if we want to win this thing!
(She flies off, leaving a rainbow contrail and forcing Granny to cry out and duck among her apple tubs.)
Granny: Get back, you! One bad apple spoils the bunch!
Rainbow: Applejack, help me!
Applejack: There’s no point in winnin’ if we cheat!
(Cut to Rainbow on the end of this, then to Twilight on the start of the following.)
Twilight: We’ll just have to work harder. Come on, everypony!
Rainbow: (with renewed fire) All right, then! Double time!
(“Iris in” to a close-up of her hooves back on the treadmill, racing alongside those of the now-upright Macintosh, then cut to a worried Spike at the rapidly emptying hourglass. The 6000 keeps Hoovering up trees to fill the mechanism with slop, while Applejack bucks for all she is worth and Fluttershy does her aerial agitation. Bloom and Pinkie hurry across the grove with full tubs on their heads, giving the Rarity/Granny sorting operation no shortage of raw material. Stallion and daredevil keep the press whirling at insane RPM’s; Spike covers his eyes as the sand keeps draining; Flim and Flam take it easy on their couch. Levitating a few more barrels onto the Apples’ stack, Twilight throws a split-second glance to Applejack, who returns a fierce one of her own. The baby dragon uncovers one eye as the last few grains slip through the neck of the hourglass.)
Mayor Mare: Time’s up!
(Cut to Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity, Granny, and Macintosh, all of whom have stopped dead. An exhausted moan from all six throats is followed by all six bodies hitting the deck. The crowd erupts into wild cheering as Mayor Mare starts counting the barrels to herself; the camera is positioned so that neither stack is completely in frame. Elsewhere, Twilight and Applejack have dropped to the grass as well and are gasping for breath.)
Twilight: I’m proud of you, Applejack.
Applejack: Thanks.
Twilight: (between gasps) Integrity like that…will always be…rewarded.
(Now the camera shifts to fully frame both production runs—with the brothers’ stack being nearly twice as tall and broad as the Apples’.)
Mayor Mare: Flim and Flam win!
Crowd: (softly) What? (Bloom walks up by her now-erect sister.)
Bloom: W…w…
Applejack: We…lost? (Rainbow, Macintosh, and Granny are now up; the first two have shed their eyewear.)
Flim: (with mocking consolation) Aw, too bad, Apples.
Flam: Guess you’ll just have to find a new line of work that doesn’t match your names quite so perfectly.
Flim: Now should we tear down all these tacky old buildings and put up new ones, brother?
(During this line, pan quickly to a long shot of the main Sweet Apple Acres buildings and then cut to the crestfallen family.)
Flam: (from o.s.) I don’t see why not, brother. (Back to him and Flim.) After all… (magically dropping a cord into view) …this isn’t Sweet Apple Acres anymore. How about…
(He pulls it; cut to the cider stand as a rolled banner winks into being in front of the Apples’ sign and opens to block it out. The new one depicts silhouettes of the two brothers’ heads—light blue for Flim, pink for Flam—using their magic on a mug of cider between them.)
Flam: (from o.s.) …Flim Flam Fields! (Cut to Rainbow.)
Rainbow: (furiously, rising off ground) I oughta press you into jerk cider!
(She is stopped short by a yank from the vicinity of her tail, and a longer shot reveals that Applejack has snagged a mouthful of it to halt her just outside striking distance of the brothers. The farmhand lets go a moment later.)
Applejack: No, Rainbow Dash. A deal’s a deal. (Flim and Flam laugh.) Congratulations to y’all. The cider business in Ponyville… (dropping head) …is yours. (to the family) Come on, Apples. (leading them away) Let’s go pack up our things.
(Cut to a close-up of the smirking pair and zoom out to frame a knot of thunderstruck observers nearby. The camera shifts to them.)
Flim: (from o.s.) Fear not, everypony! (Back to the pair.) There’s more than enough cider to go around!
(That gloating laugh starts up again as Applejack and her kin plod slowly off; she stops to address the crowd.)
Applejack: Go ahead, everypony. (None move.) Go on, y’all. (turning away, tears in eyes) It’s okay.
(She walks past Twilight, a waterfall-crying Pinkie, and Rainbow; cut to Flim and Flam, who have set up shop at the cider stand. The barrels are stacked up behind them, and full mugs of a decidedly strange brew are ready for sampling.)
Flam: Drink up, Ponyville! (Three are picked up; cut to the takers as he continues o.s.) Down the hatch!
(They chug the stuff uncertainly, and the two salesponies smile confidently across the counter. That certainty disappears in the very short time that it takes for the muck to be spat directly into their faces; choking and gagging from the drinkers.)
Cherry Berry: I can’t get this taste off my tongue!
Bon Bon: Mine’s got rocks in it!
Stallion: I wouldn’t pay one cent for this dreck! (Back to the pair on the end of this.)
Flam: (flabbergasted) You wouldn’t pay even one cent?
Crowd: No! (Quick, whispered conference between the brothers.)
Flam: How about two cups for one cent?
Crowd: NO! (Another one.)
Flim, Flam: Two bits for the barrel?
Crowd: NO!!
Flam: (laughing nervously) It looks like we’ve encountered a slight… (He and Flim doff their hats.) …problem here in Ponyville. (Both do a soft-shoe bit.)
Flim: Nopony wants our product. (His hat goes back on.) Next town? (Flam’s too.)
Flam: Next town.
(They race off; cut to the new banner as it rolls itself back up.)
Flam: (from o.s.) Let’s go, Flim! (It winks out; cut to them boarding the 6000.)
Flim: Let’s go, Flam!
(And with that, the magical cider-making contraption chugs off along the road, back the way it came. A smiling Applejack is left standing alone in the meadow as its exhaust dissipates around her.)
Applejack: They’re gone! (Twilight walks over.)
Twilight: That means Sweet Apple Acres is still in business! (Cut to Caramel and the crowd on the start of the next line.)
Caramel: Plus we can have high-quality Apple family cider! (Quick pan to Bloom at the counter.)
Bloom: Because of this silly competition, we’ve made enough of our cider for the whole town!
(Zoom out to frame some of the crowd on the end of this; they cheer the good tidings, and the other three family members trade a round of grateful smiles. Dissolve to Fluttershy and Pinkie tapping their mugs—brimming with the good stuff—for a toast.)
Applejack: (voice over, dictating) “Dear Princess Celestia…” (Pan toward the stand; others are toasting and drinking.) “I wanted to share my thoughts with you.”
(She clears her throat as the camera stops to frame Rainbow, next in line to buy.)
Applejack: (voice over, gleefully) “I didn’t learn anythin’!”
(She prances across, bouncing a mug on her head.)
Applejack: (voice over, laughing) “I was right all along!” (Close-up of an expectant Rainbow.) “If you take your time to do things the right way…” (Bloom works the tap; dry.) “…your work’ll speak for itself.” (This shocks Bloom; Rainbow’s eyes pop, then fill with disappointed tears.) “Sure, I could tell you I learned somethin’ about how my friends are always there to help me…”
(Zoom out slightly as a pink hoof reaches into view and offers a full mug, bringing a huge grin to the pegasus’ face, then cut to the other five. All have procured their own mugs.)
Applejack: (voice over) “…and I can count on them no matter what…” (Rainbow takes it.) “…but truth is, I knew that already too.”
(With Sweet Apple Acres as a backdrop, she hoists her own drink and flashes a smile acknowledging her friends’ part in saving the family business. The camera tilts up to follow her mug as she and the others lift and clunk theirs together—including Pinkie, who has snagged a replacement for the one she gave to Rainbow. Fade to black.)
READ IT AND WEEP
Written by Cindy Morrow
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Note: All lines marked with one asterisk (*) are delivered as a voice over.
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to Pinkie Pie and Rarity, standing somewhere outside Ponyville proper during the day. Something is heard whizzing around above them o.s., and the two turn their heads to track its movements as Twilight Sparkle walks up.)
Twilight: Hey, Rarity. Hey, Pinkie Pie. (gazing upward) What are you looking at?
Pinkie: Rainbow Dash!
(A cut to another patch of sky frames the stunt-flying pegasus, rainbow contrail and all, for a moment before the camera shifts back to the earthbound trio.)
Pinkie: Isn’t she the most daring devil—I mean, the most devilish darer—I mean—
Rarity: She’s dazzling!
Pinkie: Ooh, yeah, that’s a good word. She’s dazzling!
(The next couple of unseen maneuvers almost give them whiplash. In close-up, Pinkie follows up by describing a large vertical circle with her head while turning it 360 degrees on her neck. An equally impossible 180-degree turn allows her to see the next trick, and all three voice sounds of awe with Twilight and Rarity o.s. at this point. Zoom out to frame them; Pinkie’s contortions finally catch up with her and untwist the bright pink body to leave her disoriented for a moment. Admiration quickly gives way to terror on the part of the trio.)
Twilight: Oh, no…oh, no…oh, no…
Pinkie: Ay-ay-ay-ay-ay!
(Their gazes drop back to ground level in time with the sounds of a hurtling descent and a very hard landing that nearly shakes the camera to pieces.)
Twilight, Pinkie, Rarity: Ohhhhh!
Pinkie: So much for dazzling.
(Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: the black screen splits as if it were an opening eye, accompanied by the beeping of a heart monitor. The view is extremely fuzzy at this point, but enough detail can be picked out on the five colored blobs to identify them as Twilight, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rarity.)
Applejack: (very muffled) Is she gonna be okay? (Blink.)
Fluttershy: (a bit clearer) Oh, I’m so worried!
(Another blink focuses the image and clarifies the quality of the voices greatly, but the next line still echoes a bit.)
Pinkie: Is her face gonna stay that way?
(A close-up of the pony whose brain is connected to this eye reveals a woozy Rainbow, who clearly came down too hard from that aerial show she did in the prologue. A bandage is stuck over one eye, and wrappings are visible around the base of one wing so that it is forced to remain splayed out. She is in a hospital bed, as seen when the camera zooms out to frame the entire group, and she has been dressed in a green johnny. Finally realizing the extent of her injuries, she tries to work the injured wing around a bit, but quickly gives up with a loud moan.)
(A longer shot of the room frames a curtain dividing her bed from whatever is on the other side, as well as a doctor levitating an X-ray of the wing to examine the broken bone it displays. Unicorn stallion, light yellow-orange coat, brown mane/tail, medium blue eyes behind spectacles, white shirt with necktie, white lab coat with stethoscope around neck.)
Twilight: How is she, Doctor?
Doctor: She’s going to be fine. Luckily, she has friends like you who got her over here in a jiffy.
Rainbow: (groaning impatiently) How long do I need to lie here? I’ve got things I need to do!
(The next shot reveals the doctor’s cutie mark—an EKG screen—and shows his tie as dark gray.)
Doctor: Well, that all depends on your recovery, but I’d say a few days minimum.
Rainbow: You guys have gotta get me outta here! I’m gonna climb the walls!
Pinkie: Ooh, just like a spider! (turning to doctor) Did the crash somehow give her super-duper spider powers?
Doctor: (dryly, turning away/walking out; she falls over) Nn-no, nor did it give her amazing healing powers. (Back to Rainbow; he continues o.s.) She needs to stay in bed for a few days.
Rainbow: Few days? (She falls back onto her pillow.) Might as well be a few months, or a few years. (Applejack and Fluttershy approach.)
Fluttershy: It’s not so bad, Rainbow Dash.
Applejack: I bet the chow in here is hoof-lickin’ good. (Cut to Rarity at the window.)
Rarity: (levitating a johnny) And the hospital gowns…
(Zoom out to frame the curtains, which are the exact same drab shade of green.)
Rarity: …they match the curtains! (Big grin.)
Pinkie: And look!
(She whisks away the dividing curtain to expose the occupant of the next bed: an earth pony stallion who has more broken bones than sound ones, if the casts and bandages are any indication.)
Pinkie: You have a roommate!
(With his face almost totally covered, he can only acknowledge Rainbow with a few eye rolls. The less-than-excellent news prompts the downed pegasus to turn over in bed and pull the blanket over herself. Applejack directs a puzzled shrug at the other four visitors, who glance uneasily at each other before all eyes shift toward Twilight, now deep in thought. A squeaking noise draws attention to the open door, through which a library cart loaded with books is pushed into view. The noise came from its wheels, and the one nosing it along is a pink earth pony mare with birdcatcher spots and a violet/white-striped mane tied in a bun. She wears a white nurse’s cap whose design—white cross, four pink hearts tucked in the outer corners, red circle background—matches that of the sign in front of the Ponyville hospital seen in “Baby Cakes.”)
(Twilight gallops toward the door and returns a moment later, levitating a book over to the bed. This is used to poke Rainbow gently a couple of times, then set down by her pillow. She regards it with the clearest loathing.)
Rainbow: What’s this?
(Her perspective of Twilight, Fluttershy, and Pinkie; she lifts the volume up to partially block them out. The cover depicts a pegasus mare dressed in a pith helmet and a green bush shirt trimmed in a darker shade at collar and foreleg cuffs. Her coat is a faded orange-brown, her eyes are very nearly the same red-violet shade as Rainbow’s, and her mane/tail display a monochrome gray/black version of the patient’s vivid stripes. She is swinging on a vine over a river full of very hungry alligators, and carrying a blue jeweled figurine.)
Rainbow: Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone. (She lowers it partway; Twilight leans close.)
Twilight: This is the first story in the series. (Lower away.) I own all of them.
(Big squeaky grin; cut to frame Rainbow as she throws the proffered story away. The curtain has been closed again to block off the next bed.)
Rainbow: No thanks! I so don’t read. I’m a world-class athlete. Reading’s for eggheads like you, Twilight. (Chuckle.) No offense, but I am not reading. It’s undeniably, unquestionably uncool!
(Zoom in by steps on each of these last three words, ending with a close-up of her dismissive expression and the forelegs crossed behind her head. The sulky reverie is swiftly broken by the laughter of five o.s. ponies; cut to frame them again, then to Applejack.)
Applejack: Is she serious? Who doesn’t like to read a bang-up tale from time to time? (Pan to Rarity.)
Rarity: Why, a good book is almost as magnificent as silk pajamas on a Sunday morning. (Chuckle; cut to Twilight and Fluttershy at the bed.)
Twilight: (floating book back to Rainbow) Reading is for everypony, Rainbow Dash.
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Yeah! I love reading! (Cut to her, jumping in place.) And my head isn’t even close to the shape of an egg. (She touches it briefly, then starts goofing again.) It’s more the shape of an apple, or maybe an orange, but a big orange, more like a grapefruit really?
(The descriptive digression ends when she realizes that five very puzzled sets of eyes have trained themselves on her. Pan to the door on the start of the next line, to the sound of approaching hooves; the pink nurse stands here. Her cutie mark can now be seen as a white cross with four pink hearts, the eyes are deep blue, and the tail hangs loose behind her.)
Pink nurse: All right, my little ponies. Rainbow Dash needs her rest. (Rarity files out past her, then Pinkie.) You’ll have to come back tomorrow.
Twilight: (to Rainbow) I think you’d like Daring. (walking out) She’s a lot like you—adventurous…fierce… (Cut to her at the door.) …and undeniably, unquestionably unstoppable.
(The same series of three zoom steps brings the camera to a close-up of her shrewd expression before she takes her leave and the door swings shut. Rainbow is in room 12. Dissolve to a close-up of a wall clock that shows the time as 1:00, then cut to the bedridden flyer bouncing a ball off the far wall and the floor so that it returns to her. After a few cycles, though, it hits the bed’s footboard and rolls to a stop on the floor; she hangs her head in resignation.)
(Clock wipe to a close-up of a food tray resting on the blanket. Cube of gelatin, glass of juice, and a green wad of God knows what comprise this repast; zoom out to show Rainbow eyeing it with obvious disdain—Applejack’s guess at the food quality was nowhere close to the mark. She nips the edge of the glass in her teeth and drinks, but gets the whole thing stuck over her snout; it resists her attempt to pull it off, but falls loose on its own. The thing leaves her face temporarily stretched to resemble that of a typical horse.)
(Another clock wipe shows the disaffected convalescent impatiently switching her bedside lamp on and off; her face is back to normal. She steps up the pace after the first few jabs at the button, but soon slows down again. The next clock wipe presents a close-up of her roommate.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) To get to the other side! (Cut to frame her addressing him; the curtain is open.) Get it?
(His lack of enthusiasm—or any verbal response, for that matter—sits badly enough with her to make her close the curtain again. She hunkers down in bed.)
Rainbow: Never mind.
(Dissolve to a close-up of her weary face, the circles under her eyes attesting to the physical/mental fatigue that has set in. The wall clock’s ticking makes itself heard loud and clear; she glares up toward it, and a close-up reveals that it is still 1:00. This sequence of events has literally occurred in less than one minute, and the big hand clicks ahead one notch. Rainbow’s jaw drops almost to the blanket in sheer disbelief; she then reels it in for a frustrated growl and sigh. Her next idea for passing time is to bang the back of her head against the bed’s headboard a few times. Boredom, or the realization that such activity might worsen a head injury, prompts her to stop, and she unwillingly swivels her eyes to the book on her nightstand. She turns her back to it and crosses her forelegs resolutely…and then she glances back toward the nightstand while the book just sits there…and then she starts to think very, very hard. As the book continues to be a book, she sighs heavily and picks it up. Holding it at foreleg’s length as if it were an old stick of dynamite sweating out nitroglycerin, she eases the cover open; when it fails to explode, she settles down to start reading.)
Rainbow: “As Daring Do trekked through the tropical jungle, the wet heat sapped her energy and slowed her every step.” (Extreme close-up of her eyes, roving back and forth over each line.) “If only she could escape this oppressive atmosphere and fly up into the cool blue sky. But her crash landing in the jungle had injured her wing, and she was grounded for a few days.” (Longer shot; her ears droop a bit.) “Few days. It might as well be a few months, or a few years.”
(Her level of enthusiasm begins to build from zero during the previous, and this last bit catches her by surprise, being an almost verbatim repetition of her own earlier remarks. She sighs, eyeing her own busted wing.)
Rainbow: I’m right there with you, sister.
(Slow dissolve to a letterbox view of several giant mosquitoes hovering over an extensive body of water at sunrise. The image is slightly fuzzy and faded, with thin fringes of glare spilling off the top and bottom edges of the screen as if this were an old film.)
Rainbow: “The mosquitoes buzzed loudly.”
(Zoom out to frame thick jungle; bird cries are heard now.)
* Rainbow: “The macaws cried from the high trees.”
(Tilt down to the forest floor; the pegasus from the front cover climbs over a fallen tree and eyes the area as growls float up behind her. A close-up frames her cutie mark as an eight-point compass rose.)
* Rainbow: “Yet all of these distracting noises were not enough to cover the sound of the predators following her every step.”
(Daring Do turns around and finds herself nose to nose with one very angry tiger that tries to bite her head off. She jumps clear, revealing an injured and tightly wrapped right wing, but turns to find a panther moving in to cut off her retreat. A glance in a third direction discloses a lynx, while a leopard moves in from a fourth. The explorer stands on the tree trunk as the four big cats close in—and then here comes a fifth contender, a very small and fluffy white kitten. This last sight gives Daring an idea, and she leaps nimbly over the little furball as it yowls angrily and the other four charge past it to give chase.)
(She gallops through the jungle, pursued by all five felines—the kitten hanging onto the panther’s back—and stops short upon reaching the edge of a broad chasm. The snarls from behind her tell just how little time she has to make up her mind. She goes up for a jump, prompting all five pursuers to slide to an incredulous halt and run into each other, and the next shot reveals that she is swinging to the other side on a hanging vine. Daring flips a mocking salute to the predators before coming down beyond their reach.)
* Rainbow: “Safely landing on the other side…” (Daring flips her helmet back from her eyes.) “…Daring finally allowed herself a moment to breathe.”
(The rest ends abruptly when she looks off ahead of herself; cut to a close-up of two ruby jewel eyes set in a large stone animal face and zoom out. It is constructed as a dog’s head, with a flight of steps leading up into the mouth as the entrance to this structure. Daring eyes it wonderingly.)
* Rainbow: “She turned around to find herself face to face with the long-lost temple that she had sought tirelessly for over sixty days and nights!”
(Cut to a fullscreen shot of her in the hospital bed.)
Rainbow: I hate to admit it to myself, and would really hate to admit it to my friends, but… (smiling broadly) …I love this story! (holding book at length) I…I… (hugging it to herself) …I love reading!
(She falls back onto her pillow, dislodging a few feathers that waft down around her visage. Rapture gives way to panic in less time than it takes to say “pulp fiction.”)
Rainbow: (horrified) I’m an egghead.
(Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a letterbox, or “film,” view of a dim hallway within the temple. The only light comes from braziers carved to resemble the canine figure that framed the entrance. Pan/tilt down to frame a square of sky at the opening on the far end; Daring gingerly climbs the steps and sniffs the air, eyeing the dark passage beyond the braziers.)
* Rainbow: “The smell of decay and danger hit Daring Do as she peered into the dimly lit entrance of the ancient temple.”
(Her composure and confidence restored, she moves ahead; zoom in on a skull carving on the wall behind her. Three pairs of glowing red eyes appear within the gaping mouth and shift to follow her progress. Dissolve to a close-up of Daring’s hooves on the move through a bug-infested stretch of rubble and bleached bones, then cut to a head-on view of the orange-brown face. One small patch of floor sinks slightly under the weight of her foreleg, followed by the sound of a mechanism kicking into gear. Daring ducks, barely avoiding the three axes that whistle across the hallway and through the space where her head used to be. They wind up embedded in the wall, but she has little time to appreciate the booby trap before another one is sprung. A hidden joint in the floor slides apart beneath her hooves, throwing her into a very uncomfortable spreadeagle position, and she vaults ahead just in time to avoid a blast of fire from below. Next, several alligators drop into view to snap at her; they are suspended from the ceiling, forcing her to crawl ahead. A swinging pendulum blade and a volley of darts give Daring no quarter, followed by a series of spikes that pop up from the floor, one by one. As she leaps ahead to avoid being skewered, a stone slab at the far end of the hallway begins to descend toward the floor. She gallops ahead through the spikes and slides to a stop on her back—with her head directly beneath the dropping monolith. One final burst of motion gets her in the clear before it slams down to cut off her retreat.)
(Daring stands up and wipes the sweat from her forehead. Her voice sounds as Rainbow’s might in a few years—same brash confidence, but a bit lower in pitch and without the raspy edge.)
Daring: Phew!
(No time to rest here, though; another mechanism kicks up as stones and dust fall from above. She lets off a frustrated groan; cut to another open doorway. A lively, camera-shaking ruckus is heard from within it, and Daring rolls through just before it too slams shut. Her helmet, now in her teeth, has been repeatedly pierced by darts; she brushes these away and puts it on again. A look around this chamber reveals a round hole in the ceiling, through which a dusty shaft of light filters in. This begins to move across the chamber and eventually picks out a figurine on a pedestal at the far end—the one seen on the book’s cover. Its blue jewels cast blinding shafts of radiance that fill the screen; when the view clears, it is seen in close-up. Two dog figures sit back to back, holding a large gem at their feet.)
(An extreme close-up of Daring’s eyes shows the reflections of this treasure in her widened pupils. Her mouth curves into a wondering smile—and then the view dissolves to a close-up of Rainbow’s face, set in the same expression, as the fullscreen aspect ratio re-establsihes itself. A knock at the door throws a scare into her; zoom out to show her partway underneath her bed’s blankets, eagerly hunched over the book.)
(Pan quickly to the closed door as the knob begins to turn, then cut back to Rainbow. She frantically stuffs the book under the blanket and strikes the best nonchalant pose she can; an instant later, Twilight and Fluttershy burst in.)
Twilight, Fluttershy: Hi, Rainbow Dash!
Rainbow: Uh…hey, guys.
Fluttershy: We thought we’d come and cheer you up.
(Cut to the patient and zoom out slightly. The sight of a boxed board game being levitated nearby throws her off balance.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) We brought your favorite board game.
(It is plunked down; cut to a close-up of it, now set up on the end of the bed. Two folding displays are placed back to back, with various figures being placed on the lower portion of the one facing the camera. It is a pony version of the classic game Battleship.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) We know how much you like to win.
(Rainbow casts a sidewise glance down at her bed and nudges one edge of the blanket down to hide the book from view.)
Twilight: You go first, Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow: (forcing a chuckle) No, no. You first.
(Cut to the two visitors, who take their positions at the display she cannot see, all the while trading a very skeptical look.)
Twilight: All right. Uh…Cloud-Three.
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Aw, shucks. (Back to her.) You rained on my cumulus. Heh. Go again. (Pan to the pair.)
Fluttershy: Um…Sky-Five?
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Whoa! (Cut to her; she holds up one game piece.) You found my seagull. (Toss aside.)
Twilight: Uh…Cloud-Two? (Cut to Rainbow.)
Rainbow: You zapped my weather pony!… (chuckling) You stung my bumblebee!… (groaning) My thunderbolt!
(The second and third parts of this line are accompanied by cuts to frame her face in closer detail. After the last, cut to frame all three again.)
Rainbow: Aw, and that’s my last cloud. (smiling, hastily) You found it. Guess you guys win. I lose.
(She shifts her emotions without a clutch again, giving a pout and huff, and snatches the game away; pieces scatter everywhere.)
Fluttershy: But, Rainbow Dash, you…you didn’t even get a turn.
(Rainbow is feverishly cramming the lid back on the box, but catches herself and smiles.)
Rainbow: You win some, you lose some. (An even bigger grin fails to placate Twilight.)
Twilight: But you don’t lose some. I don’t think you’ve ever lost a game of— (Rainbow drops the game, stretches, and yawns.)
Rainbow: Thanks for coming.
Twilight: But yesterday you were desperate for things to do! (Rainbow picks it up and shoves it to Twilight.)
Rainbow: Do? Who said anything about Daring Do? (Pan to Twilight and Fluttershy, puzzled; she continues o.s.) I told you, I’m not interested in reading.
(The lights go out; cut to Rainbow, who has switched off the lamp.)
Rainbow: (yawning) It’s naptime for me!
(The Technicolor-maned head hits the pillow as its owner lets go with some very loud and very inauthentic snoring.)
Fluttershy: (walking out) Glad we could…cheer you up?
(Twilight aims a critical eye at Rainbow, who opens one of her own and yawns even louder; now the unicorn heads for the door.)
Twilight: All right, then.
(Only after the door has closed, and the two mares’ shadows can no longer be seen in the slit of light shining in beneath it, does Rainbow fish out her book and carry on reading.)
Rainbow: “Daring Do stood at the entrance to the central temple chamber.”
(Cut to a “film” view of Daring, who straightens up with a shining-eyed smile, and zoom out to put the jeweled figurine in the fore.)
* Rainbow: “At last, she was face to face with the legendary Sapphire Statue!”
(Directly in front of her is a grid of floor tiles, each marked with a picture of a jungle animal. She lifts one foreleg to step ahead, but quickly yanks it back as if remembering the gauntlet of booby traps she set off earlier. A glance off to one side discloses a battery of holes in the wall, indicating a set of hidden darts ready to fire; she looks around, spots a rock on the floor, and kicks it onto the grid. Once it comes to rest, its weight causes the tile to sink slightly; the darts fly across the chamber, embedding themselves in the wall to form a pony-shaped pattern. Daring hunches down to study the tiles.)
Daring: Hmm…there must be a pattern here. (Pan across the grid, putting her o.s.) What do all these animals have in common?
(Cut back to her; inspiration lays her a good one over the pith helmet.)
Daring: Aha! (Cut to a pan across them; she continues o.s.) These animals are all predators, except…
(Stop on a tile depicting a rat and zoom in.)
Daring: (from o.s.) …rats!
(One hoof is lifted and placed ever so gently on this spot—and absolutely nothing happens in response. Daring has squeezed her eyes tight shut, but opens one of them to peek through the rivulets of sweat oozing down her face.)
Daring: Phew!
(Getting all four hooves onto this tile, she jumps across the grid to zigzag her way from one rat to the next and is soon at the base of the steps leading up to the Sapphire Statue’s pedestal. She throws a savage grin back at the obstacle she has just conquered and climbs up to the prize. The helmet comes off and the sparkles play in her eyes as she regards it with genuine awe; putting the headwear back on, she gets down to business. Inspect the pedestal from another angle, wave a foreleg above it to check for wires, wipe the sweat out of her mane, rub her front hooves together—and then Daring just gets bored with the whole thing and snatches the Statue in her teeth. She drops out of sight and gallops away, not noticing that her action has caused a peg to extend itself upward from the pedestal.)
(Back at ground level, Daring has removed her helmet so she can drop in the Statue. Once she puts it back on, she realizes what is happening; the peg suddenly drops back into its hidden groove and the ceiling begins to cave in. Before Daring can take a step onto the floor grid, the tiles crumble away to expose a lake of steaming lava underneath. Several of the columns lining the walls topple into the molten rock as the liquid surface rises inexorably to swallow the pedestal’s lowest steps. Daring scrambles up to the top, looking desperately for a way out of this mess, and lets her glance rove from the tumbled columns to the chamber’s ceiling hole. Gritting her teeth, she jumps from the pedestal and gets herself balanced on one broken end; just before this too is swallowed up, she leaps high and snags the edge of the hole. Outside, on the temple roof, Daring is flung skyward by a sudden burst of steam and the lava overflows through the hole.)
(The dazed explorer does a graceless belly flop onto the forest floor, the Statue falling out of her helmet to land a few feet away. A dark-blue-furred forelimb ending in a lighter-toned hand slams down in front of her; cut to a head-on shot of the new arrival and tilt up to frame all of it. This thing rests on all fours, with huge, gorilla-like arms and a dog’s hind legs; the underbelly is the same lighter shade of blue as the hands, as are the muzzle and the extra hand at the end of the long slender tail. A few spots in the lighter hue are visible on the back. Gold circlets ring the forearms, tail, and neck, and the eyes are set at the end of a long snout above a mouth filled with cruel teeth. Two dog ears stand straight up from the head, showing gold piercings. This is Ahuizotl.)
Ahuizotl: (Pinkie’s voice) Hel-loooo, Rainbow Dash!
(Zoom out quickly from this scene to stop in the hospital room as the fullscreen ratio is re-established. A panicked blue pegasus looks up from her book; cut to the poofy pink party pony at the door. She, Applejack, and Rarity enter the room, giving Rainbow barely enough time to hide the novel under the blanket.)
Rarity: How’s our patient doing today? (Applejack crosses the room with a sigh; Rainbow sweats heavily.)
Applejack: We need to get some fresh air in here. You’re lookin’ sweatier than a pig wrangler on a summer’s day.
Rainbow: (stammering a bit) Uh…well, guys…thanks for visiting, but—
(A light yellow nurse mare enters the room, pushing a cart with a dinner tray. Earth pony; same cutie mark and cap as the pink nurse seen earlier; green eyes; two-tone light blue mane/tail, the former bound in a hairnet; markedly less sunny disposition.)
Yellow nurse: Okay now. Dinnertime for Rainbow Dash.
(She deposits the cart by the bed and leaves; the patient grabs the tray off it and feigns enthusiasm over the unappetizing food.)
Rainbow: Oh, just in time. I am sooo hungry. (Pan slightly to frame Rarity on the next line.)
Rarity: Oh, well, don’t mind us, Rainbow Dash. (Pan to Applejack, on Rainbow’s other side.)
Applejack: Yeah, just go ahead and eat up.
[Animation goof: Her mouth stops moving before the line is finished.]
(Finding herself hemmed in by these two on either side, and Pinkie at the foot of the bed, she has no choice but to dig in. Which she proceeds to do in the most ill-mannered, uncouth, and just plain messy fashion possible. The horrid display, and the particles of flying food that accompany it, are enough to send these three visitors toward the exit.)
Rarity: (shuddering) On second thought…
Pinkie: Uh, we’ll see you tomorrow, Rainbow Dash. (Uneasy laugh.)
(After the door is closed, she quickly spits out the mouthful over the side. Coming up with a clean face, she retrieves the book and plunges back in. Zoom in slowly on her darting eyes.)
Rainbow: “ ‘You thought you could evade me and capture the relic for yourself, but you were sadly mistaken, Miss Do.’ ”
(Dissolve to a “film” view of Ahuizotl, tilting up from ground to head as before. This time, he speaks in his normal voice, sounding like Dracula’s South American second cousin, as the camera zooms out to frame him against the sun. He now holds the Statue in one main hand and a small gold kitten figure in the one on his tail.)
Ahuizotl: And now, you shall meet your doom!
(As the half-dazed explorer struggles to rise, he brings the kitten figure up to his lips and blows into the tail, generating a shrill whistle with overtones of a cat’s yowl. Right on cue, here come the tiger, panther, lynx, and leopard, each with a weapon in its teeth: spiked flail for the tiger, club for the panther, coils of rope for the other two. The white kitten emerges with a meow from behind one of the tiger’s hind legs and rubs happily against it. Cut to a long overhead shot of the tableau and zoom out slowly as Ahuizotl uncorks a long, crazed laugh to the heavens.)
(Cut back to a fullscreen shot of Rainbow, now sitting up on her haunches in bed with the blanket pulled up over her back.)
Rainbow: Whoa! Who is this dude?
(“Film” view: a chamber within a different structure. A large gold medallion is hung on the wall near ceiling level, with the image of a menacing animal face worked into it; tilt down to the sound of Daring’s heaving breath. She is lashed to a stone table on her back; the four jungle cats stand around her.)
Daring: You won’t get away with this, Ahuizotl!
(Cut to him, standing by a lever on a wall and holding the Statue in his tail hand.)
Ahuizotl: But I already have. (He pulls the lever; machinery starts up.)
Daring: (groaning) Not again!
(The whole crew bails out and the door closes as spikes emerge from two opposite walls, which begin to grind slowly toward each other. Daring struggles against her bonds to no avail; meanwhile, spiders crawl out along the spikes, cobras slither from a hole in the gold medallion, and spouts on the walls begin to dispense…)
Daring: Quicksand!
(She keeps straining as all four perils gradually converge on her, the table starting to sink into the muck.)
* Doctor: (echoing) Rainbow Dash?
(Cut to a close-up of the avid reader; a small pool of light is cast over her from an o.s. source.)
Doctor: (from o.s.) Rainbow Dash?
(Zoom out slightly. The light is coming from a lantern filled with fireflies, and she has tunneled underneath her bed’s blanket. She looks guiltily off to one side; cut to frame the doctor in the foreground. It is daytime, and the lantern picks out her silhouette within the bedclothes.)
Doctor: (singsong) Rainbow Dash!
(The blanket tries to flee in at least four different directions, then gets shoved aside to expose her head and the lantern.)
Rainbow: (stammering a bit) Oh! Good evening—
Doctor: Morning.
Rainbow: (stretching) —morning, Doc.
(The full meaning of his correction sinks in; she looks quickly out the window and finds the sun rising over Ponyville. Cut to the doctor, who is eyeing the lantern with clear suspicion.)
Doctor: Have you been up all night? (It is whisked away.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Uh, of course not.
(Cut to her; a quick puff of air scatters the fireflies out of the lantern to extinguish it. She grins broadly and hides it behind her back, placating the doctor.)
Doctor: Well, I’ll be quick. Congratulations, Rainbow Dash, we’re checking you out of the hospital.
Rainbow: What?!? Later today? (She bites a hoof nervously.)
Doctor: No. (He backs o.s.) Right now.
Rainbow: Right now?!? “Right now” right now? (Cut to him at the door; both nurses charge in with a wheelchair.)
Doctor: “Right now” right now.
(Comes next a melee from the direction of the bed, along with clouds of dust and Rainbow’s johnny being flung back.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) But I don’t feel better! (The bandages go next.)
Doctor: Now take it easy, Rainbow Dash. (walking out) Remember to stay off that wing for a week.
(The pink nurse pushes her out in the chair as she tries desperately to reach back behind herself. Cut to her receding perspective of the bed and the lump in it that marks her hidden book; the yellow nurse steps into view to wave goodbye. Outside the front entrance—a standard set of double doors, rather than the Dutch doors used on most other buildings in Ponyville—the discharged patient gets one final shove to roll her onto the walk. The doors are slammed shut; zoom in on her as she bangs the chair’s arms in frustration.)
Rainbow: How will I ever find out what happens to Daring Do?
(Zoom out to a long shot of her and the building, then snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to Rainbow, out of the chair and pacing before the hospital entrance. To say that she is in a tizzy would be something of an understatement.)
Rainbow: Is Ahuizotl gonna get away with the statuette? What’s gonna happen to Daring? (She stops and gets an idea.) Aha! Twilight has a copy of the book! (Defeated sigh.) But I can’t ask her after I called her an egghead and all!
(She flops onto her back and groans loudly.)
Rainbow: This is making me sick all over again!
(Another brainstorm hits; zoom in on her calculating smile, then clock wipe to the hospital lobby. The doors slide open to admit Rainbow, who staggers toward the front desk with a front hoof pressed to her forehead; the yellow nurse and the doctor take note of her arrival.)
Rainbow: (groaning, flopping onto bench) Oh, the pain, the pain! (The doctor crosses to her.)
Doctor: Rainbow Dash? What are you doing here? Uh, anything wrong?
Rainbow: Well, uh…my wing! (spreading left wing) It’s still hurting, Doc.
(She goes down on her belly; he flexes the appendage a bit with no immediate reaction. After a moment, she provides one in the form of a full-body twitch.)
Rainbow: Oh…ouch! Right there!
Doctor: (dryly) I was touching your good wing.
(The fact that this is the truth—her right wing had been bandaged up after the wipeout—leaves her at a loss.)
Rainbow: Uh…right. Well, I think that one’s hurting now, too.
(He just gives her a sardonic little chuckle and smiles.)
Doctor: I think I know what the trouble is. (Cut to her, looking pitiful; he continues o.s.) A severe case of… (Back to him.) …lazy-itis.
(Outside the front entrance, he bulldozes the malingerer onto the walk as both nurses stay available for backup. The sky is working its way toward sunset now.)
Rainbow: B-but…you got me all wrong, Doc! I’m not being lazy!
Doctor: You’re fine, Rainbow Dash. (The nurses nod.) Give it some time and you’ll be right back in the swing of things. (He heads back in.)
Pink nurse: Good day, Rainbow Dash. (So does she.)
Yellow nurse: Take care. (Ditto; Rainbow stands up.)
Rainbow: What am I gonna do? (walking off) I’ll never get to sleep without knowing what happens to Daring Do!
(She stops after only a few steps, with a third idea flashing through the little gray cells under her vivid mane. Zoom in to a close-up.)
Rainbow: Which may not be such a bad thing.
(She walks off again. Dissolve to the full moon in the night sky and cut to the exterior of the hospital. After the lights in all the windows have been snuffed, the blue pegasus jumps out from the bushes at one corner of the building. She has put on a dark gray, full-body hooded sweatsuit that leaves only her face, wings, and tail exposed. The amateur housebreaker slinks toward the front entrance, only to find herself standing in a slit of light issuing from between the double doors. Cut to a close-up of the source, a blue-eyed khaki stallion dressed as a security guard. His grizzled gray mane is cut short in a military style, and he has the end of a flashlight in his teeth.)
(Once the glare from the beam dies down, the view shifts to just outside the doors as he steps out through them to make his rounds. His tail is cut short to match his mane, and he is revealed to be an earth pony. Rainbow is nowhere to be seen for the moment, but she peeks up from a new hiding place on the portico above the entrance. A glance upward reveals an open upper-story window.)
(Wipe to a hallway inside. She zigzags her way down its length, peeking out from one bit of cover before instantly appearing behind the next, then ducks away to avoid being spotted by the passing doctor. After he has gone, she slips into the open, looks around, and finds a beam of moonlight shining through an overhead grate to pick out the closed door of room 12. A big, squeaky, calculating grin steals across the intruder’s face.)
(Inside the room, whose door has now been opened, Rainbow peeks in and stays low while easing past the patient in full-body traction. Cut to a close-up as she peeks over the edge of a bed and registers sudden surprise, then zoom out. Her former bed is now occupied by a sleeping, light yellow stallion whose mane has been shaved down to stubble. A few furtive glances here and there inform her that the object of her search is lying underneath the bed; she hunkers down here to get back into the story.)
(Cut to a “film” view of Daring in the four-way death trap set off by Ahuizotl.)
Daring: (with effort) Feels like the harder I struggle…the tighter the ropes get! (A spider by her head speaks up.)
Spider: (male voice) Help! (Zoom in on it.) Burglar! Burglar!
(Cut to Rainbow under the new patient’s bed. She hears the voice again, causing her to start so violently that she bangs her head against the bed frame and knocks herself silly for a moment.)
Spider voice: Someone’s trying to steal my slippers!
(Out she comes, book in hoof, finding the bald stallion sitting up in bed to mark him as the speaker. He is an earth pony with dark blue eyes.)
Rainbow: I’m not trying to steal your slippers! (easing away from bed) I’m trying to steal this book!
(And she nearly catches a lamp upside the head for her trouble, flung at her by the annoyed patient. She makes it back into the hall, only to be confronted by the pink nurse.)
Pink nurse: Stop thief!
(Here come the yellow nurse and the doctor from two other directions, ready to throw some hooves. The next contender is a white, pink-eyed earth pony filly with a curly black mane/tail; she has the same cutie mark and cap as the two nurses, marking her as a junior staff member. Rainbow takes to the air and flies over this last, but a sudden cramp or re-fracture in her right wing sends her crashing into the library cart. She looks wildly about the scatter of books in search of the right one, but a buzzer forces her to clear out ahead of the squad, now well provisioned with flashlights.)
(Outside, she bursts from the front doors and gallops down a hill littered with stumps, rocks, and other nasty obstacles. Her four pursuers are hot after her, and a dog’s barking does very little to calm her spirits. As they spread out, it can be seen that only three of the four—doctor, guard, pink nurse—have lights; the fourth can only be discerned as a silhouette with a badly disheveled mane/tail.)
(As Rainbow gallops through Ponyville, the three beams of light slash past a building’s shuttered upper-story window. Pinkie pops her head out from this, wearing a pink nightcap.)
Pinkie: (angrily) Hey! Nopony invited me!
(Rainbow pays no mind and races on, her face registering mind-blowing shock before she skids to a full stop. Zoom out quickly to show that she has reached one bank of the stream that borders Ponyville; a vine hangs down above it. As the four hunters close in, she takes the big leap and catches the vine to swing safely across the water, throwing a mocking salute back in the process. However, her heroics are for naught, as the group simply charges over the nearest bridge to stay after her.)
(The chase takes a hairpin turn around the Carousel Boutique, all of whose lights quickly come on before Rarity opens the front door to glare out with a disgusted cry. She is in a flowered bathrobe.)
Rarity: Hasn’t anypony heard of beauty sleep?
(As Rainbow leads her pursuers back and forth past the library, all of its windows blaze up and Twilight opens the front door to take in the scene. Her untidy mane and the circles under her eyes point to the very sound sleep she is no longer getting. Rainbow jumps to a crouching stop before her.)
Doctor: (from o.s.) Rainbow Dash, what in the world is going on?
(On the end of this, zoom out to frame him, the guard, and the pink nurse right behind him.)
Doctor: Why are you stealing slippers?
(The fourth member of the crew is now seen in close-up as the pink nurse casts a light over her. Light blue earth pony mare, rumpled gray mane/tail, dark red-violet eyes that point in opposite directions, screw cutie mark, dressed in a white johnny. She, rather than an actual dog, has been generating the barks heard during the entire chase sequence.)
Doctor: (from o.s.) Hey, get back to the hospital!
(She gallops off, followed by the guard—whose cutie mark is now revealed as a silver badge. Fluttershy and Rarity arrive on the scene, the former clad in a white bathrobe with lavender trim, and are quickly joined by Applejack.)
Applejack: What’s all the ruckus? (Pinkie pops up, without her nightcap.)
Pinkie: Mmm—I’d say it’s more of a fracas than a ruckus.
(Cut to the cornered pegasus, with Twilight and the doctor glaring at her, and zoom in slowly; she has lowered the hood of her outfit.)
Twilight: What’s going on, Rainbow Dash?
(Sweat trickles down for a long moment before Rainbow sighs heavily and hangs her head.)
Rainbow: I’m an egghead.
Rarity: Pardon? (Fluttershy smiles.)
Rainbow: See, I was trying to get back into the hospital to finish the last chapter of—
Twilight: (smiling) —Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Statue [sic]!
Rainbow: You got me.
Twilight: Wow. I knew the book was good, but I didn’t know it could drive a pony to petty theft!
Rainbow: Good? Try awesomely amazing! (smiling fiercely) That book is undeniably, unquestionably un-put-down-able!
(As in Act One, the camera zooms in by steps on each of these last words to frame her appreciative expression. It then zooms back out as her enthusiasm fades into regret and the doctor’s face goes slack with surprise.)
Rainbow: But then I had to put it down. I was sent home before I could finish it. (She smiles sheepishly.)
Twilight: Well, I’m glad that’s all this is about. (The other four gather around.)
Applejack: There’s no reason to go around causin’ a ruckus— (The smile widens.)
Pinkie: Fracas!
Applejack: (rolling her eyes) —causin’ a fracas just because you like to read.
(Dissolve to the right end of a particularly full bookshelf and pan to the left one.)
Twilight: (from o.s, levitating one out) Like I said, I have every book in the series, and you can borrow them all anytime you like.
(Cut to Rainbow inside; it is floated down to her. She has stripped off the stealth gear. Zoom out to frame Twilight and Spike here as she voices a happy sigh. The three are in Twilight’s upper-story room, and the baby dragon is taking a break from sweeping up.)
Rainbow: Thanks, Twilight. I’m sorry I made such a big deal about all this. (Cut to Twilight; she continues o.s.) I thought reading was just for smart ponies like you.
Twilight: (gently reproving) Rainbow Dash, just because you’re athletic doesn’t mean you aren’t smart. (She taps her head with a hoof; pan to Spike.)
Spike: (flexing one arm) Yeah! Just look at me!
(He kisses his bicep but gets no love from the two mares, so he grumpily snatches up his broom to get back to work.)
Twilight: Reading is something everypony can enjoy, if they just give it a try.
Rainbow: Yeah, I get it. I shouldn’t knock something until I’ve tried it.
Twilight: That’s a great lesson, and it would make a great letter to the Princess. (Rainbow leans over to Spike.)
Rainbow: Did you get all that?
Spike: (uncertainly) Yeah?
Rainbow: Great! (She zips away and continues o.s.) You write the letter… (Cut to frame all three.) …I gotta finish this book!
(A lightning-fast nip puts it in her teeth and nearly takes off a hank of Twilight’s mane; unicorn and dragon share a knowing smile after her departure. The scene contracts to letterbox aspect ratio and dissolves to a “film” view of Daring still in her unenviable jam on the stone table. After a few groans and a bit of thrashing, she flips her head forward so that her helmet ends up lying on her belly, brim up. Casting her frantic eyes about the room and noting the position of every detail, she hooks one rear leg into the helmet, snags the brim in her teeth, and pulls back as if trying to launch a slingshot. When she lets go, the helmet is flung across the room to bounce off one spike; it whirls around the edge of the gold medallion on the wall, then ricochets crazily between several other spikes. Daring sucks in a huge breath and holds it as the quicksand envelops her face—and on its last bounce, the helmet bangs into the lever Ahuizotl pulled to start this engine. It flips up, causing the spiked walls to retract and the table to rise above the surface of the draining sand. Now free of her bonds, Daring heaves for breath and knocks a few grains out of her ears.)
(The exit slides open, and she stands up with helmet in hoof.)
Daring: Another day… (putting it on) …another dungeon.
(A flick of one hoof gets it adjusted at the proper rakish angle. Cut to a close-up of the white kitten that tried to join in on the big cats’ earlier pursuits of Daring. It is now sitting on Ahuizotl’s lap and purring like a little outboard motor as he strokes it and laughs.)
Ahuizotl: With Daring Do out of the way…
(Zoom out to frame all of him; he sits on a stone throne, holding the Statue in his tail hand. The tiger and panther nap on either side, while the lynx dozes on top of the headrest.)
Ahuizotl: …the world will suffer mightily at my hands! (exultantly) I am victorious!
(He laughs wildly for a few seconds, but a blur of green, faded orange-brown, and monochrome rainbow stops him in his tracks. It also leaves his tail hand holding a whole lot of nothing.)
Daring: (from o.s.) I’ll take that!
(Cut to her, holding the Statue in one foreleg and gripping a vine in the other to swing away.)
Ahuizotl: (stammering) What?!
(Cut to a high ledge; Daring lands here and releases the vine.)
Ahuizotl: (from o.s. below) NOOOOOOO!! (She tucks the Statue away.)
Daring: Better luck next time, Ahuizotl!
(She gives her helmet a nudge and gallops away, the camera zooming out to frame the entire area. Ahuizotl’s throne has been set up in a stone courtyard, and the ledge hangs above the wall opposite it. He has now put the kitten down and jumped to ground level.)
Ahuizotl: CURSE YOU, DARING DO!!
(Wailing; cut to a long shot of the jungle at sunset. The silhouette of Daring gallops toward and past the camera.)
* Rainbow: “And so, with Ahuizotl defeated and the Sapphire Statue secured…”
(Dissolve to a close-up of Rainbow, now at the end of the book, as the view widens out to fullscreen.)
Rainbow: “…the world was safe and sound once again—thanks to Daring Do!”
(She slams it shut and falls backward o.s. with a blissful sigh. Cut to a tall stack of books; she pokes her head into view and retrieves the topmost one in her teeth. The camera then zooms out to frame this area as a bedroom in her house. Although the structure has been seen to be constructed from clouds, everything in here is solid enough: bed, floor, rug, columns, window, nightstands on either side. The books are stacked up on one of these, and the bed’s blanket is blue with a red/yellow lightning bolt. The entire room is done in shades of blue and violet.)
(Rainbow lounges back onto the pillows with this new tome.)
Rainbow: Daring Do and the Griffon’s Goblet.
(She clasps it to her belly…)
Rainbow: (giddily) Awesome!
(…and settles in to bust some pages. Fade to black.)
HEARTS AND HOOVES DAY
Written by Meghan McCarthy
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a long overhead shot of the town square during the day. Ponies go about their business everywhere and young laughter drifts up as the camera pans to the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse. The bell rings at the schoolhouse, which stands a short distance away in the background.)
Apple Bloom: (from inside) Hmmm…
(Close-up of the floor, which is covered with spilled glue, paint, and scraps of paper, ribbon, and other arts-and-crafts materials. Bloom walks through the mess, visible from the chest down.)
Bloom: I just don’t feel like it’s quite…finished.
(A different angle frames her head and the glue bottle in her teeth, along with the head of Sweetie Belle when she stands up. The glop has ended up on the walls as well, and a poster depicts a pony silhouette marked with a large heart.)
Sweetie: (as Scootaloo approaches) I know what you mean. If it’s for Miss Cheerilee, it needs to be perfect. Hearts and Hooves Day only comes once a year, after all.
Scootaloo: (holding up a spool of ribbon) I say we add a little more ribbon!
Sweetie: (nodding with Bloom) Mmm-hmm, yeah. (Scootaloo jumps across with it; Sweetie ducks down.)
Bloom: Yeah.
Sweetie: (picking up a strip of lace) And just a tiny bit more lace.
[Animation goof: Sweetie’s mouth moves on Bloom’s “yeah.”]
(The lace is thrown across to fill the screen; when it drops, Bloom walks over to an open paint can of bright violet paint and cheerfully dunks a front hoof in it.)
Bloom: A few more hoofprints!
(A splash of paint drains away to show her stomping her daubed hooves across the floor, which is just barely cut off by the bottom edge of the screen. Now Scootaloo moves in with a small bucket of…)
Scootaloo: Glitter! It could definitely use just a little more glitter.
(She pours, sending up a swirl of sparkly dust, and the camera shifts to frame the lacy, beribboned edge of the Crusaders’ creation. Sweetie runs a critical eye over the thing and smiles, and her two cohorts look on with approval.)
Bloom: Now that’ll show Miss Cheerilee how much we care about her!
(Cut to a close-up of the work and zoom out slowly. It is an enormous heart made from pink construction paper, with a lace border and plenty of glitter. Bows in four colors—red, yellow, pink, violet—are stuck on around the edge, and the whole is liberally marked with hoofprints in white, pink, and violet. The zoom frames the Crusaders on the start of the next line.)
Bloom: Just have to get it to the Hearts and Hooves party at school.
(Here comes the little unicorn with a solution: an envelope that is barely big enough to accommodate the bottom corner.)
Scootaloo: I think we’re gonna need a bigger envelope.
(Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the schoolhouse and zoom in slowly. Chatter is heard from inside as the camera cuts to the classroom and pans to Cheerilee and the Crusaders; they have propped their giant project near her desk. Multicolored banners and heart decorations have been put up everywhere in the room.)
Cheerilee: It’s lovely, and so… (Very long pause.) …big!
Bloom: We just wanted to let you know— (Upper section sags; the others push it up.) —that we think you’re the best teacher in the whole wide world. (Cut to Cheerilee; she continues o.s.) And we think you’re super— (It falls over, just missing her.) —and that we love you so, so much!
(The last couple of words suddenly take on a muffled tone; the reason, as shown in the next shot, is that the thing has come down on top of the trio.)
Bloom: (muffled until Cheerilee uncovers them) And we want you to have the best Hearts and Hooves Day—
Crusaders: —ever!
Cheerilee: Thank you so much, girls. I love it, I really do. (Sweetie stands up.)
Sweetie: (knowingly, nudging her in the chest) I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the gifts you’ve gotten from your very special somepony.
(During this line, Cheerilee drops the top edge so that it blacks out the screen, and the view quickly snaps to the pair in time for the last three words.)
Cheerilee: (crossing room) Oh, I don’t have a very special somepony at the moment.
(All three fillies have extricated themselves from the collapsed paper by now; her statement throws a king-sized monkey wrench into their mental works.)
Bloom: Really?
(Cut to Cheerilee, nipping up a fallen ribbon, then to all four on the start of the next line. She sticks it back onto the wall.)
Sweetie: How could somepony as amazing as you not have a very special somepony on Hearts and Hooves Day?
(The schoolteacher carefully keeps her face turned away so that the Crusaders cannot see the annoyed expression that comes over her face. Evidently she has heard this question countless times in past years, but she turns to face them with a smile.)
Cheerilee: It’s all right, Sweetie Belle. (A colt brings her a card.) I have lots of good friends and wonderful students who care about me very much. (She takes it.) I’m gonna have an absolutely terrific Hearts and Hooves Day! (addressing the room) All right, everypony! Who’s ready to play Pin the Heart on the Pony?
(The rest of the students clamor for a turn as Cheerilee walks toward them, the camera zooming in slowly on the crestfallen Crusaders still at the front desk.)
Bloom: If anypony deserves a very special somepony, it’s her. (Sweetie gasps deeply and aims a huge smile at her.) Uh, you all right?
(Across the room, a blindfolded Twist has a paper heart in her teeth and is working her way toward Cheerilee and a pony-silhouette poster identical to the one in the clubhouse.)
Sweetie: I’m more than all right. I’ve just come up with the best idea ever!
(On the end of this, Twist sticks the heart onto Cheerilee’s chest instead of the picture.)
Sweetie: We’re gonna find Miss Cheerilee a very special somepony! (Scootaloo grins.)
Bloom: That is the best idea ever! (Sweetie zips back to them.)
Sweetie: Told you.
Bloom: So what are we waiting for? (All look up toward the wall.) Hearts and Hooves Day is almost over!
(On the end of this, pan/tilt up to the wall clock, which ticks a minute closer to 3:00. The camera then cuts back to the trio.)
Bloom: Let’s get out there and find somepony special for Cheerilee already!
Sweetie: Yeah! (All hunch down.)
Scootaloo: Let’s do it!
(They leap up for a three-way high five. Dissolve to a patch of clear afternoon sky and tilt down to frame them on the prowl through the town square.)
Sweetie: Now it can’t be just anypony. Miss Cheerilee is one of the best mares in Ponyville. She deserves to have one of the best stallions as her very special somepony.
Light mandolin/synthesizer/string melody with tambourine, brisk 4 (F major)
(Tilt up from the Crusaders as a thought balloon forms above Sweetie’s head; within it, Cheerilee appears at her desk, holding an apple.)
Sweetie: Cheerilee is sweet and kind
She’s the best teacher we could hope for
(The balloon disappears; tilt down again as she gallops ahead and peers around from a post.)
The perfect stallion you and I must find
(Bloom and Scootaloo bob their heads in time; she leaps over to them.)
One to really make her heart soar
(She holds out the last word, the camera zooming out to a long overhead shot of them in front of the town hall. They scatter in different directions.)
Bongos in
(She finds a colt playing an arcade game, then gives a noogie to the elderly Mr. Waddle as he officiates at a funeral.)
Sweetie: But this one’s too young, this one’s too old
(She pokes her head out the back doors of an ambulance and puts a thermometer in a sick stallion’s mouth.)
He clearly has a terrible cold
(He sneezes; now Bloom spots a clown and leans on a well-dressed one in top hat and monocle.)
Bloom: This guy’s too silly, he’s way too uptight
Top-hat stallion: (offended) I say!
(He moves just enough to let her fall on her face; now Sweetie spots Caramel sitting on his haunches under a tree.)
Sweetie: Well, nothing’s wrong with this one, he seems all right
(As she holds out this last word, the camera zooms out just enough to frame a pegasus mare seated nearby; she and Caramel rub noses affectionately.)
Scootaloo: His girlfriend sure thinks so.
Drums in; double-time feel
(Pan quickly to Bloom, who has come across a gray, brown-maned stallion in an iridescent, rhinestone-studded shirt straight out of the 1970s. He wears sunglasses and has a disco-ball cutie mark.)
Sweetie: How ’bout this one?
Bloom: He’s much too flashy
(Doctor Whooves gallops past, splattering both with mud as Scootaloo skids over to them.)
Scootaloo: (spoken) He might do
Bloom, Sweetie: If he weren’t so splashy
(Embarrassed grin from the pegasus; now the others, cleaned up, eye various other rejects.)
Bloom: Too short
Sweetie: Too tall
Bloom: Too clean
Scootaloo: (spoken, clothespin on nose) Too smelly
(Now Sweetie finds herself looking at a stallion who pokes his head out from within one of three full, oversized jelly jars.)
Sweetie: He’s strangely obsessed with tubs of jelly
(Hold the note; she backs off in a big hurry and fetches up against Scootaloo, who has rejoined Bloom in the town square. Big sigh from all three as the camera zooms out overhead.)
All percussion/mandolin out; double-time feel ends
Bloom: I don’t think that we’re mistaken
(Ground level; she scopes out couples at various tables.)
It seems all the good ones are taken
(They start a hopping ascent up a pyramid of hay bales.)
Tambourine in
Sweetie: I really feel that at this rate, we’ll never find the perfect date
Bloom, Sweetie: Don’t want to quit and give up hope
(They spot Big Macintosh on the other side, loading bales into a cart.)
Scootaloo: Doing anything special for Hearts and Hooves Day? (She ducks back.)
Sweetie: Oh please, oh please, oh please, say
Macintosh: Nope.
(Happy gasps from the fillies, who jump down off the stack.)
Mandolin/other percussion in; double-time feel
Sweetie: We did it, girls, we’ve found the one
(A heart-shaped frame appears around the red stallion and glows warmly; she hops away, the others following.)
Who will send our teacher’s heart a-flutter
(Bloom, at the rear, stops short.)
Bloom: Wait a minute! Let me get this straight. (Macintosh passes behind her, pulling the cart.) Are you talkin’ about my brother?
Song ends with a stinger
(Cut to a long shot of Sweet Apple Acres, then to Macintosh pushing a loaded apple tub across the farmyard with his head. Zoom out slightly to frame the Crusaders, watching him from inside the open barn doors; they duck hurriedly out of sight as he stops for a slow look around. Finding nothing amiss, he goes back to work.)
Scootaloo: Sweetie Belle is right! (Long shot of the barn; they peek out as the camera zooms in.) Big Macintosh is the perfect match for Miss Cheerilee.
(Close-up of three empty tubs set up around a tree; he taps the trunk with a rear hoof.)
Scootaloo: (from o.s.) He’s really nice… (The tubs are full in an instant.) …super-hardworking… (Inside again; he hauls the tubs on his back.)
Bloom: Hmmm…but he’s also pretty shy. (as she, Sweetie cross the barn) He’s never gonna ask Miss Cheerilee to be his very special somepony. (Sweetie stops and thinks.)
Sweetie: Maybe he doesn’t have to. (Bloom stops.)
Bloom: Huh?
Sweetie: If we can get Big Mac and Miss Cheerilee in a really romantic setting, I bet she’ll ask him! (Scootaloo, perched on a hay bale, snaps upright.)
Scootaloo: Sounds like a plan to me!
Bloom: (crossing to them) So, what are we waiting for? (Scootaloo jumps down.) Let’s get out there and create the perfect date!
(They jump and give a three-way high five, the camera cutting to a close-up of their extended hooves as it did in the classroom.)
Crusaders: (from o.s.) Yaaaay! Woo-hoo!
(Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to an overhead shot of a pair of awnings strung up in a small stand of trees in the park. Sweetie is beneath them, setting up a picnic spread in the area shaded by this rough gazebo; in close-up, Bloom and Scootaloo bring over one empty plate each. A phonograph sits on a stool nearby, and the sky’s tinge marks the arrival of later afternoon.)
Sweetie: Flowers! Don’t forget the flowers!
Bloom: Oops! (She jumps o.s.) I’m on it!
(Scootaloo, meanwhile, spots Cheerilee and then Macintosh approaching from different directions and gasps happily.)
Scootaloo: They’re coming! (Cut to Bloom and Sweetie; she continues o.s.) This is gonna be perfect! (Bloom has filled a vase with flowers.) Miss Cheerilee is gonna have the best Hearts and Hooves Day ever!
Sweetie: With her new very special somepony! (All three giggle and move toward Cheerilee.)
Cheerilee: Hi, girls!
Crusaders: Hi, Miss Cheerilee!
Cheerilee: So you three said you needed help identifying a tree you found here near the gazebo?
(They nod and zip over to point it out on a hill close by; it is an ordinary apple tree, catching the red-violet instructor off guard.)
Cheerilee: (dryly) That’s an apple tree.
Bloom: (innocently) Is it?
(The fillies force a sheepish giggle as the camera cuts to Cheerilee; Macintosh walks up, the handle of a toolbox in his mouth. He sets this down, noses the lid open, and comes up with a hammer—only to find nothing within easy reach that needs repairing.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) Oh…uh, sorry, big brother. (Cut to her, now alongside.) We went and fixed up the gazebo all on our own. (nudging him ahead; hammer falls) See? (Scootaloo nudges Cheerilee up.)
Scootaloo: As long as you’re here, why not have a bite to eat from this romantic-looking picnic?
(Cut to a close-up of said picnic on the last three words, then tilt up to frame the quintet.)
Scootaloo: (feigning surprise) Oh, gosh, seems like there’s only room for two.
Bloom: I guess we’ll just be goin’, then. (Chuckle.)
(The three fillies bug out with almost enough speed to create their own Sonic Rainboom, leaving two very confused grown-up ponies to stare after them. Sweetie leans back into view just long enough to set the needle on the record and start the phonograph; a light waltz begins to play as the Crusaders watch from behind a bush farther down the path. The next two lines are delivered in hushed tones.)
Scootaloo: You really think this’ll work?
Sweetie: Of course it will work. They’re perfect for each other.
(At the scene, Cheerilee looks worriedly off toward their vantage point, then tries to get a smile going as she turns to face the puzzled but impassive Macintosh. It takes her a few seconds to work up a remark.)
Cheerilee: Beautiful day we’re having. (Pause; he glances around.)
Macintosh: Ee-yup.
Cheerilee: Any big plans for tonight? (Another pause.)
Macintosh: Nn-nope.
(A few more seconds pass with no sound except the record; cut to a close-up of Bloom. The next two lines are delivered in hushed tones.)
Bloom: Oh, come on, Miss Cheerilee, ask him to be your very special somepony. (Pan to Sweetie, who gasps happily.)
Sweetie: Oh my gosh! Look!
(The camera cuts back and forth between them and the intended couple several times during the following. Cheerilee leans closer to Macintosh, staring intently…the fillies’ eyes and smiles widen…she leans even closer…the young eyes and smiles grow another size…and now the stallion and mare are practically nose to nose.)
Cheerilee: (quietly, smiling) Big Mac?
Macintosh: Ee-yup?
(Now the Crusaders’ pupils and irises have nearly filled their eye sockets, while their smiles have stretched so far that their faces might split in two at any moment. The camera cuts back to Cheerilee and Macintosh and zooms quickly out a short distance as she backs off, shattering the mood with a cinderblock.)
Cheerilee: You have something stuck in your teeth.
(Taken aback, he lifts a hoof to locate the offending bit. The sound of the needle being yanked off the record comes through loud and clear as the camera pans to frame the bush; one hacked-off unicorn filly pops up.)
Sweetie: OH, COME ON!!
(Scootaloo swiftly drags her back into hiding. The music resumes, but now the tempo and key waver as if the turntable can no longer maintain a constant rotation speed. Pan back to Macintosh and Cheerilee, the former using a toothpick for a moment to dig out the particle.)
Cheerilee: Well, this has been…strange.
Macintosh: Ee-yup.
Cheerilee: I need to get going, but it’s always great running into a good friend.
Macintosh: (smiling) Yup.
(Exeunt, in opposite directions. Dissolve to a close-up of a rock being kicked along by Bloom, then zoom out to frame the trio—walking down a street in Ponyville and in very low spirits. Bloom sighs. The blueness of the sky indicates that at least one day has passed.)
Bloom: Do you think it just wasn’t romantic enough?
Scootaloo: Maybe it was too romantic. (Sweetie sighs; Bloom’s bow droops.)
Sweetie: Either way, we failed. (Close-up of Bloom; she moans.)
Bloom: There’s gotta be somethin’ else we can—
(With her attention turned toward the others, she does not notice Twilight Sparkle—or the book she is levitating to read as she walks—coming toward her. The resulting collision knocks Bloom backward and drives the book briefly into Twilight’s face. It falls to the ground, allowing a clear view of the loaded saddlebags she carries, and the camera cuts to a longer shot of the group. All three Crusaders have gone down in a heap; the fallen book displays a heart and caldron in its cover, while one in the bags depicts a white rose. Bloom’s bow has perked up again.)
Twilight: Oh my goodness! I didn’t even see you there! I’m so, so sorry.
Bloom: Oh, it’s okay, Twilight. It was an accident.
Twilight: (smiling, floating book up/walking on) I’ve just been reading the most fascinating book about Hearts and Hooves Day. Did you know that this holiday got its start because of a love potion?
(Three pairs of young eyes contract to pinpoints once this last sentence filters into the brains wired up to them. Twilight has resumed her studying, but quickly finds herself at a standstill. Her perspective: the Crusaders have slid to a stop on their backs before her.)
Sweetie: Did you say “a love potion”? (Their perspective of Twilight and the book.)
Twilight: That’s’ right. It even has the recipe.
(During this line, she magically leafs through it and the camera zooms in, putting her o.s. She stops on a page that depicts a crowned stallion and mare gazing rapturously into each other’s heart-filled eyes; back to the trio.)
Sweetie: I…don’t suppose we could borrow that book for a little while, do you [sic]? (Cut to Twilight.)
Twilight: Of course you can.
(She floats it down so Sweetie can grab it; in profile, she levitates another one from her bags.)
Twilight: I have another book here— (Her perspective of the ground; the Crusaders are gone.) —that I think you’ll…
(Longer shot of her and the now-empty street; she looks around a bit, then glares grumpily ahead, having lost her audience. Wipe to the exterior of the clubhouse, zooming in slowly to the sound of giggling, then cut to the three inside. Bloom has the book opened to the right page, Sweetie is studying it, and Scootaloo eyes a pitcher of light blue liquid on the table before them.)
Sweetie: (reading) “Take a tuft of cloud…”
(Wipe to a close-up of Scootaloo as she nips a mouthful from a nice white one, then zoom out. She is being held up by Sweetie, who is in turn supported by Bloom; the tottering tower is at the edge of an unreasonably high cliff. Another wipe puts them back at the table, where Scootaloo drops the wad into the pitcher so that it dissolves; the liquid has now whitened somewhat.)
Sweetie: “…a bright rainbow’s glow.”
(Wipe to one end of a vivid rainbow originating somewhere in the Sweet Apple Acres orchards. Scootaloo straightens up into view, holding the end of a vacuum cleaner hose to the colored arc, and the camera zooms out. Backstopped by Sweetie, she is standing on top of a tall stepladder to get the needed height, while Bloom keeps an eye on the appliance below. The bright hues are swiftly sucked away, leaving the rainbow in grayscale. The next wipe puts them at the table again; Scootaloo sticks the end of the hose into the pitcher to discharge the vacuumed colors.)
Sweetie: “Stir with a pegasus feather…” (She nips one off Scootaloo’s wing.)
Scootaloo: Hey! (Close-up of the pitcher.)
Sweetie: (from o.s., stirring) “…fast, not slow.”
(The layered rainbow colors disappear and the mixture becomes translucent violet. Once the stirring is done, Scootaloo fills two cups.)
Bloom: (closing book) “Serve to two ponies who aren’t in the know.”
(They stare wonderingly at the cups, which begin to emit heart-shaped bubbles in close-up. Around them, the backdrop dissolves to the picnic blanket under the gazebo. On the start of the next line, Sweetie picks up one of them and the camera zooms out to frame all three Crusaders on the scene. The phonograph and vase of flowers are still here, but the food has been cleared away. Scootaloo keeps a lookout; Sweetie sets one cup on the opposite side of the vase from the other, then adjusts the flowers. It is late afternoon again.)
Bloom: I feel kinda bad trickin’ my brother and Miss Cheerilee this way.
Sweetie: What’s the problem? We all agree these two are perfect for one another. (Pan to Scootaloo.)
Scootaloo: Yeah! They just need a little nudge. (Back to Sweetie.)
Sweetie: And what could make them happier than being together—right?
Bloom: (smiling) Right!
Scootaloo: Ooh, ooh! Here they come! (They line up by the spread.)
Bloom: Hiya, Miss Cheerilee! (Macintosh and Cheerilee approach on opposite sides.)
Cheerilee: Hello again, girls. Hello, Big Mac. (Pause.) Would you three like to tell us why it was so very important that we meet you here—
Sweetie: Punch!
Cheerilee: Excuse me?
Sweetie: (hastily, nervously) Punch! We made punch. We were gonna set up a stand and try to sell it, but…heh…we needed somepony to taste-test it first.
Bloom: Ee-yup.
(Sweetie stretches up toward the pair at the start of each following sentence, then down again at its end.)
Sweetie: We thought you two would be perfect together. To test it. Together.
(Farmhand and teacher trade a very confused stare.)
Sweetie: So, uh, we’ll just leave you two alone.
(Which they do, peeling out with nearly enough speed to take the whole spread with them. Sweetie zips back a moment later.)
Sweetie: Together, to test it.
(Off she goes, Macintosh glancing over his shoulder to mark her landing in the bush that served as the Crusaders’ cover on their first try. Her giggle makes itself heard from within the leaves.)
Cheerilee: I’m very sorry about this. I mentioned to the girls that I don’t have a very special somepony, and I believe they’re putting us in these awkward situations because they’ve decided it should be you.
(She gives him a queasy smile; he laughs in response and she joins in.)
Cheerilee: I suppose we should just humor them for a moment. Uh, this punch does look delicious.
Macintosh: Ee-yup.
(Zoom in to ground level and the two full cups between them, then cut to the Crusaders in their hiding place and zoom in slowly. As before, the Crusaders’ lines are spoken at low volume.)
Sweetie: I think they’re gonna drink it! (The cups are lifted…)
Cheerilee: To good friends. (…and clinked together; both drink.)
Scootaloo: They’re drinking it! They’re drinking it!
(A stereo hiccup is the first reaction, followed by gentle smiles and two wisps of vapor that float together to form a bright violet heart between the two pairs of green eyes. As it floats away, they suddenly fix each other with an intense, close-range stare, the whites and irises cycling through various shades of pink and violet for a moment.)
Scootaloo: (giddily) They’re looking into each other’s eyes! (Three-way giggle.)
Crusaders: They’re about to be in for a big surprise!
(Back to Macintosh and Cheerilee on the end of this. Their eyes widen a bit…as do the Crusaders’…they lean closer…the trio’s eyes and smiles grow again…lean still closer…eyes and smiles even larger.)
Cheerilee: (tenderly) Big Mac?
Macintosh: Yup? (Ecstatic stares from the Crusaders.)
Cheerilee: Will you be my very special somepony?
Macintosh: Ee-yup. (Sweetie pops up from the bush.)
Sweetie: YES!!
(Scootaloo pops up to shove her back in, but an instant later all three are eagerly watching these new developments.)
Crusaders: (hopping around gazebo, singsong) He’s her special somepony, she’s his special somepony!
Cheerilee: He’s my special somepony.
Macintosh: (more drawn-out than usual) Ee-yup.
(The Crusaders stop their hopping and float slightly clear of the ground with pure glee.)
Crusaders: Awww…
Scootaloo: (touching Macintosh’s chin, sappily) He’s my schmoopie-doopie, sweetie-weetie pony pie.
(That string of lovestruck nonsense leaves the fillies hopelessly confused.)
Macintosh: (touching Cheerilee’s chin, sappily) You’re my schmoopie-doopie, sweetie-weetie pony pie.
Bloom: (to Scootaloo, Sweetie) Did he just say…?
(Yes. Yes, he did. As first his eyes and then hers briefly display the effects of the love potion again, the three brewers can only watch helplessly.)
Cheerilee: You’re my cutie-patootie, lovey-dovey honey bunny.
Macintosh: (drawing a heart in air) You’re my hearty-smarty, smoochy-woochy baby-waby.
Bloom: Big Mac! (The Crusaders zip over.) Hey! (She waves a hoof in his face.) Hel-looo?
(Her perspective of his stupidly smiling face.)
Bloom: What’s goin’ on? (Cut to frame all five again.)
Sweetie: Miss Cheerilee, are you all right?
Cheerilee: I have a special somepony… (sappily) …a kissy-wissy, snuggy-wuggy sugar bear.
(She and Macintosh lean in close to rub noses; zoom in on the Crusaders.)
Sweetie: I think we may have given them too big of a nudge.
Macintosh: (from o.s.) You’re my cuddly-wuddly, boopsie-woopsie punkin pie. (Gagging from Scootaloo and Sweetie.)
Scootaloo: (sarcastically) You think?
(Snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the Crusaders’ clubhouse. It is now the following day.)
Bloom: (from inside, anguished) What have we done?
(Inside, she paces the floor while her partners study the book borrowed from Twilight.)
Bloom: My brother’s actin’ like a grade-A goofball!
Sweetie: Maybe we added too much rainbow.
Scootaloo: Or maybe not enough cloud.
Sweetie: Maybe… (grabbing book) …uh-oh.
Bloom: What do you mean, “uh-oh”?
Sweetie: We might not have given Big Mac and Miss Cheerilee a love potion. We may have given them a love poison!
Bloom, Scootaloo: What?!?
(Cut to a close-up of the relevant page, with the two enraptured ponies gazing at each other. Zoom out slowly.)
Sweetie: (from o.s.) Apparently some prince a long time ago whipped up this recipe— (coming into view) —and gave it to this princess he liked. He meant it to be a love potion, but things didn’t turn out so well.
Bloom: How “not so well” did things turn out?
Sweetie: Well, there’s something here about a dragon…a kingdom falling…chaos reigning… (Cut to her friends, shocked; she continues o.s.) Okay. Apparently it was all because the prince and princess were so lost in each other’s eyes that they couldn’t perform their royal duties.
(She looks up from the pages, her green eyes broadcasting fear and uncertainty clearly enough to be picked up in Appleloosa.)
Bloom: (angrily, crossing floor) Great! We’ve not only turned Big Mac and Miss Cheerilee into a couple of nonsense-spoutin’ nincompoops, we may have put all of Ponyville in jeopardy!
(Her rancor gives way to a pitiful-eyed pout and a slam of her face against the nearest table. The other fillies’ jaws drop at the sight, and they quickly come up on either side of her.)
Scootaloo: Come on, Apple Bloom. (Bloom looks up.) Miss Cheerilee and Big Mac don’t have any royal duties.
Bloom: But they still got responsibilities! If we don’t fix this…
(Tilt up to ceiling level as a thought balloon forms above her head. Cheerilee appears within it, teaching a bit of arithmetic, but fades from view during the next line.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) …oh, no, Miss Cheerilee won’t be able to teach!
(The mental picture dissolves and fills the screen to show Macintosh at an apple tree; he too vanishes.)
Bloom: (voice over) Big Mac won’t be able to harvest any apples!
(Dissolve to the exterior of the schoolhouse.)
Bloom: (voice over) And before you know it…
(Another dissolve, and the entire property becomes a dilapidated, weed-choked wreck under a windy gray sky. Yet another frames Sweet Apple Acres and afflicts all the trees with a blight. From here, cut to a Ponyville street filled with panicking locals.)
Bloom: (voice over) …Ponyville will be overrun with uneducated little ponies starved for apples!
(On the end of this, Lily races up—wearing a dunce cap and rearing up to display an empty, growling stomach. She is replaced by a screaming Bon Bon; zoom in on the latter’s open mouth.)
Bloom: (voice over) Oh, it’ll be chaos, it’ll be chaos!
(After the camera has zoomed in far enough to black out the screen, snap to the freaked-out yellow filly. Her histrionics have left Scootaloo very confused, while Sweetie keeps reading.)
Sweetie: There’s an antidote! (Bloom calms down.)
Bloom: Well, why didn’t you say so? Didn’t you see me gettin’ all panicked back there? (Sweetie spreads out the book.)
Sweetie: If we can keep Miss Cheerilee and Big Mac— (Close-up of the book during this; zoom in as she continues o.s.) —from looking into each other’s eyes for one full hour, the love curse will be broken. (Back to the three.)
Scootaloo: Only an hour? (Dismissive snort.) We can pull that off in a second!
(All smile. Dissolve to the exterior of Sugarcube Corner and zoom in slowly; during the next line, cut to a close-up of an extremely bewildered Mrs. Cake inside.)
Cheerilee: (from inside) You take the first sip, snuggle-wuggles.
(A slightly revolted look comes over the baker’s face; cut to the table right in front of her. The new couple is here, standing with their hind legs on stools to face each other over an ice cream soda; their forelegs rest on the table, propping up their heads. Each pushes the glass toward the other in time with the next three lines.)
Macintosh: Nope, you take it, schnoodle-bump.
Cheerilee: No, you, schnooky-lumps.
Macintosh: No, you, pookie pie. (Mrs. Cake crosses to the Crusaders, now inside the front door.)
Mrs. Cake: I’m all for romance, but this has been going on for hours.
(On the end of this, zoom out to put the couple in the fore; they now have the soda’s cherry caught between their teeth and give it a few nips without breaking the skin.)
Mrs. Cake: What’s happened to these two?
Sweetie: (forcing a giggle) Who knows?
(The shopkeeper aims a skeptical glance at the trio, whose eyes all shift to avoid contact with hers. After a few seconds that feel like a month, she smiles and turns back toward the shop floor.)
Mrs. Cake: Well, these lovebirds will probably be planning a wedding soon. We can always use the catering business.
(A few thoughts percolate under the three young manes; Sweetie is first to speak up.)
Sweetie: A wedding! That’s it!
(Zoom out slowly to put Macintosh and Cheerilee in the fore, now licking at the soda’s froth.)
Sweetie: Miss Cheerilee and Big Mac should get married!
Bloom: How is gettin’ hitched gonna keep them apart? (Back to the Crusaders.)
Sweetie: They aren’t really gonna get married. (walking ahead) They’re just gonna get ready to get married.
(Bloom and Scootaloo trade a look as if to ask, “Did she leave her brain hanging on the clothesline this morning?” Meanwhile, Macintosh and Cheerilee have resumed pushing the soda toward each other in turn.)
Cheerilee: (chuckling) No, you, biscuit-wiscuit bear.
Macintosh: Nope, you, huggy-wuggy-snuggy bunny.
(His push is a bit too energetic and sends the glass off the table; Sweetie chooses this moment to cut in.)
Sweetie: Hi, Miss Cheerilee, how are you?
Cheerilee: (holding up picture of Macintosh) I have a very special somepony!
(She hugs it; pan to Macintosh. He lifts a picture of Cheerilee, bopping Sweetie under the chin with its edge.)
Macintosh: I have a very special somepony. (He hugs it; Bloom pops up.)
Bloom: (dryly) Yeah. We noticed.
(She drops out of sight as they rub noses; Sweetie inserts herself before things can go any farther. However, they keep trying to reach past her and get hooves on each other.)
Sweetie: Gosh. You two are so in love, the next thing you know, you’ll be getting married!
(Now she backs away, allowing them to slam together head-on.)
Macintosh, Cheerilee: (shocked) Married?
Sweetie: (pointedly) That’s right. Married. (Both sink bonelessly onto their stools.)
Macintosh, Cheerilee: (blissfully) Married.
(Bloom claps a hoof over her suddenly bulging cheeks in order to stop herself from blowing chunks all over the room. Once she is able to chew it back, she lets her tongue hang out with a disgusted retch; Sweetie nudges her in the ribs to start her forward. Close-up of the couple; Macintosh retreats from the table without either of them noticing.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) ’Course, if you’re gonna get married— (Longer shot; she is pushing him back on his stool.) —you want to pick out a really nice diamond for your—ugh!—schmoopie-doopie, uh, pookie pie?
(She has nearly bulldozed him out the door by this point; now he starts in fright.)
Macintosh: Diamond!
(He races out, stool and all, the door slamming behind him.)
Cheerilee: Schmoopie!
(She tries to follow, but Scootaloo and Sweetie are there to block.)
Sweetie: Don’t you think you should start looking for your wedding dress? You’ll want to look your best for your… (disgustedly) …honey-bunny snuggle baby.
(Cheerilee’s eyes pop and she jumps up with a gasp, her limbs windmilling in midair.)
Cheerilee: Oh…dress!
(She rockets out of the place, smashing the front door to splinters and nearly inflicting the same fate on Bloom. Cut to just outside it; Sweetie leads her out at a gallop, with Scootaloo bringing up the rear.)
Scootaloo: Now we just need to keep them apart. I’ll keep Miss Cheerilee occupied. You two do the same with Big Mac.
Bloom: No problem!
(Cut to a long shot of the Ponyville clock tower, standing on its hill outside the town proper, then to a close-up of its face. The time is 5:00, and the bell rings to mark the hour.)
Sweetie: Meet you back at the clubhouse in an hour when this whole mess is over.
(She peels off to her left, while the other two gallop away to their right. Wipe to the exterior of the Carousel Boutique, zooming in slowly, then cut to Cheerilee and Sweetie inside. The former is frantically looking over a rack of white wedding gowns.)
Sweetie: (pointing to one) This one looks nice. (She pushes it and Cheerilee into a fitting room.) Better try it on, though.
(Before the marrying mare can do more than look over the swinging doors, her overeager assistant shoves the whole rack in as well. Her next moves leave an assortment of items piled up to block the doors, including a chair, couch, kitchen sink, and ladder. The puzzled red-violet face is left barely visible above the door and junk. Sweetie gallops to a window and looks out; cut to a long shot of the clock tower—5:10.)
Sweetie: (from o.s.) Ten minutes down… (Back to her.) …fifty minutes to go.
(Pan to the blocked door as she glances toward it. This shot reveals that a basket and one of the chairs from the boutique’s main changing/styling room have been added to the stack. Dissolve to Macintosh and Bloom, looking over the wares on display inside a jewelry shop. The proprietor straightens up behind the counter and sets a ring out for inspection. Blue-gray earth pony stallion; white/light gray mane/tail; light brown eyes; diamond-ring cutie mark; magnifying spectacles on nose; white shirt with dark gray necktie under a brown vest.)
(Macintosh nods enthusiastically at the ring, but Bloom pushes it disdainfully aside.)
Bloom: No.
(His face falls. Cut to a close-up of the case, panning along its length as the jeweler points out one item after another. Macintosh’s reflection nods at each, but Bloom’s rejections drop him into the dumps.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) No…not that one either…no…too shiny. (Back to the pair; a new piece is set out.) No…you know…somethin’ less… (Cut to the jeweler; she continues o.s.) …shiny.
(He picks it up and turns away with a low groan of frustration.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) Miss Cheerilee deserves the best.
(Cut to the clock tower, now showing the time as just past 5:30, then to Scootaloo watching it from a window inside the shop. Bloom zips up to her.)
Bloom: How much time is left? I’m runnin’ out of ways to make diamonds sound bad!
Scootaloo: We still have twenty-five minutes!
(The little earth pony voices a long, pained moan and turns away from the window. A zoom out reveals that Macintosh has vacated the premises; she zips to the counter.)
Bloom: Where’s my brother? (Close-up.)
Jeweler: (from o.s.) He made his purchase and departed out the back. (Cut to him.) Said something about needing to see his… (disgustedly) …schmoopie-schmoo.
(Both fillies gag and retch up hearing this latest idiotic pet name. Dissolve to the clock tower, which rings to mark the time as 5:45.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) Okay. (Cut to her and Scootaloo, galloping down a street.) I’ll see what I can do to slow him down. You go on to Carousel Boutique and warn Sweetie Belle.
(They split up. Cut to Macintosh, who has apparently taken a page from Pinkie Pie’s book and is hopping down the street in her trademark style. Bloom races up behind him, stops for a moment to time her next move, and leaps to grab a mouthful of tail hair. The added load slows him not one iota and his tail stretches like a rubber band, slamming her down every time he jumps and flicking her upward when he lands. She comes loose after a few hard bounces.)
(Cut to a profile close-up of the blissful stallion. A bit of dust floats up in front, accompanied by a grinding sound, and a long shot reveals that Bloom has crouched down here in a new attempt to slam on the brakes. Her front hooves are dug into the street, her rear ones shoved up against Macintosh’s forelegs—but this too has a negligible effect on his motion. He quickly hops over her and continues down the street as a pair of oxen tow a wagonload of anvils along.)
(A coil of rope lying among the metal blocks catches Bloom’s attention; in a twinkling she has part of it in her mouth and a fierce new resolve in her eyes. Quick pan to a close-up of Macintosh’s hopping back as a loop flicks into view and catches one of the pegs on his hitching collar. The rope snaps taut under Bloom’s calculating grin—she has hooked her brother to the wagon to stop him cold. However, the oxen get a very big surprise when they start to be dragged backward; as they scrabble uselessly for a purchase on the street, Macintosh hauls them and the wagon at his original speed. Bloom moans sadly at the sight and glances up to see the clock tower displaying a time of 5:54; she gasps in surprise and begins to sweat profusely.)
(Cut to the exterior of the Carousel Boutique. Scootaloo gallops up, while Sweetie peeks out through a cat flap set into the diamond-shaped cutout in the front door’s bottom half.)
Sweetie: (with rising panic) What’s wrong? Where’s Apple Bloom? Where’s Big Mac?
Scootaloo: (between pants) On…his…way…gotta… (Cut to Sweetie; she continues o.s.) …keep him… (Clock tower: 5:55.) …out of… (Back to Sweetie.) …boutique!
(The little unicorn looks frantically to each side, then straight ahead, and smiles broadly. Zoom out quickly to frame two shovels leaning against a wall several yards away. The view then dissolves to a house in Ponyville proper; Macintosh hops past in front, while Bloom gallops behind it. One end of the rope from the wagon is still on his collar, the other in her teeth, and she quickly circles the building to form a loop. A quick move knots the rope so that it snaps taut; she grins smugly, but the mood is short-lived.)
Bloom: Huh?
(The rope creaks under the strain and Macintosh quickly slows to a stop as the house’s occupant throws open a window. To her great shock and confusion, she is now living in a mobile home—literally, since the stallion is now hauling it down the street. Bloom gallops to keep pace; pan quickly ahead to the Carousel Boutique, with Scootaloo and Sweetie nowhere to be seen. Bloom’s lightning-fast glance at the clock tower apprises her of the time—5:57; her eyes pop and she puts on a burst of speed. A few seconds later, she has pulled even with her brother and jumped up to wrap all four short legs around his neck in a new bid to impede him; no good.)
(As the improbable house-mover approaches the Carousel Boutique, Scootaloo and Sweetie look worriedly toward them. Both are now quite filthy.)
Scootaloo: (waving wildly) Move away!
Bloom: He’ll get to her! He’s too strong! (The rope snaps; now Scootaloo and Sweetie both wave.)
Sweetie: Let him go!
(Bloom jumps clear, but her two friends look on the verge of freaking out.)
Macintosh: SCHMOOPIE-DOO!! (He drops out of sight.) Whoa!
(A longer shot of the area reveals that he has fallen into a freshly dug pit. This explains Sweetie’s interest in the shovels and the dirt on both her and Scootaloo; they used sods to camouflage the opening. All three Crusaders look over the edge with relieved smiles, and Scootaloo sighs.)
Scootaloo: (to Sweetie) I sure am glad you found those shovels.
(During this line, cut to their perspective; the red workhorse has landed on a mattress at the bottom of the pit, and the two shovels have been placed down here as well. The camera then shifts briefly to a cutaway view of the excavation, with the layers of earth visible, before cutting to the clock tower. A click of the minute hand advances it even closer to 6:00; back to the trio, now cleaned up.)
Bloom: Oh, one more minute and the spell will be broken!
Macintosh: (from below, raising a hoof) SCHMOOPIE-DOO!!
(Zoom in quickly through the front door’s upper window and stop on the blocked-up fitting room door. Cheerilee shoves her head through the pile.)
Cheerilee: Sweetums?
(The barricade shakes and falls apart under the force of her assault; as Macintosh starts to climb up, the Crusaders shoot a scared look toward the clock tower. The minute hand is easing toward its peak, but more important things are happening at the building. A few strikes from inside bow the front door outward on its hinges and finally knock it down—taking most of the wall with it. Here stands Cheerilee, a bridal veil pinned to her mane.)
Macintosh: (jumping up into view) SCHMOOPIE-DOO!!
(The voice brings a smile to the mare’s face, but the three fillies grin and tilt their bodies to keep her from getting a clear line of sight. Frustrated, she breaks into a gallop; as Macintosh gets his head clear, the Crusaders step in front of him. The minute hand clicks along; Scootaloo leans over so that Macintosh’s next lunge cannot be seen; Cheerilee continues her headlong charge. Another blocked climb occurs just before the minute hand advances up to 12—but the Crusaders cannot appreciate it for long before the crazed teacher barrels straight into them.)
(Three young equines are flung upward in slow motion, their yells echoing at half speed, and Cheerilee leaps toward Macintosh as he gets his head above ground again. For the first, last, and only time since the clock struck five, they get a full-on view of each other’s eyes; an instant later, momentum and gravity bring her down for a direct hit between the two skulls. Normal speed resumes; they tumble down into the pit amid clouds of dust that fill the screen.)
(Once the view clears, the clock tower strikes the hour and the Crusaders advance cautiously to the edge of the pit.)
Bloom: Oh, please be normal, please be normal!
(Cut to their perspective on the end of this. Macintosh sits on his haunches, Cheerilee is upright, and both are staring up with a total lack of comprehension. Back to the trio, equally puzzled, then cut to within the pit. When both speak, the cloying tone is entirely gone from their voices.)
Cheerilee: Am I wearing a wedding veil?
Macintosh: Ee-yup. (Long pause.)
Cheerilee: Are you sitting on a feather bed in a hole in the ground?
Macintosh: Ee-yup.
Cheerilee: (addressing herself upward) Girls? (Cutaway view of the pit.) Can you explain why I look like I’m getting married at the bottom of a pit?
(Close-up of the trio, who display a combination of placating grins and evasive glances.)
Sweetie: We may have given you the teeny tiniest bit of love potion that may have turned out to actually be a love poison. And you may have gone just the teeny tiniest bit nutty.
(Cut to the befuddled pair, then to the Crusaders, then back during the next line.)
Bloom: But we only did it because we thought you and Big Mac would be really happy if you could be each other’s very special someponies on Hearts and Hooves Day. (The trio again.)
Scootaloo: Our hearts and hooves were in the right place. (The others nod.)
Cheerilee: We appreciate that you care about us and want us to be happy, but…
Bloom: But no matter how good our intentions might have been, we shoulda never meddled in your relationship. (She turns to the other two.)
Scootaloo: Nopony can force two ponies to be together.
Sweetie: It’s up to everypony to choose that very special somepony for themselves.
Crusaders: We’re sorry.
Cheerilee: And you can think about how sorry you are while you’re doing all of Big Mac’s chores at Sweet Apple Acres. (to Macintosh) Does that seem like a fair punishment to you?
Macintosh: Ee-yup.
(Dissolve to the interior of a nearly-full apple bin, the camera pointing up at the late-afternoon sky through its open top. A tub is lifted over the edge and dumped in by Bloom; cut to her as Scootaloo and Sweetie bring up one of their own and set it down. All three wipe the sweat from their foreheads and groan wearily. Zoom out slightly to frame Cheerilee approaching, with Macintosh right behind; she no longer wears her veil.)
Bloom: Hey there, Miss Cheerilee. What are you doin’ here?
Cheerilee: Since you three are doing all of his chores, Big Mac and I thought we’d have a picnic at the gazebo. (Close-up of the pair.) Ready, sugar bear?
Macintosh: Ee-yup, punkin pie.
(Zoom out to put the Crusaders in the fore; they suck in a panicked triple gasp and Sweetie stuffs both front hooves into her mouth. They are so shocked that they completely miss the knowing wink that passes between the two—evidently the lovebirds have turned pranksters for the moment. Macintosh and Cheerilee amble off together.)
Crusaders: NOOOOOOO!!
(As they scream, cut to a long shot of the couple walking off toward the sunset. “Iris out” to black, staying focused on them.)
A FRIEND IN DEED
Written by Amy Keating Rogers
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of Sugarcube Corner during the day. Tilt up slowly to the upper stories and dissolve to Pinkie Pie’s bedroom. Bunches of balloons are tied to the headboard of the bed, which is unoccupied—but one bright pink hoof reaches up into view to set the needle on a phonograph. A synthesizer-heavy, 1980s-style tune blares from the speaker horn as the camera pans to a close-up of Pinkie’s determined smile.)
(She snaps turquoise/yellow-striped sweatbands onto both forelegs, pulls yellow leg warmers onto her hind limbs, and settles a turquoise headband over the narrowed blue eyes. Putting her forelegs together for a moment to cover her face, she continues her preparations; now clad in a yellow shirt and turquoise shorts, she buckles a belt around her midsection. Zoom out to frame all of her: This shot reveals that she has attached a couple of leaves to the headband, near one ear; the shirt collar and the lower ends of the leg warmers are edged in turquoise. The overall vibe is that of an ’80s aerobics instructor.)
Pinkie: Let’s do this.
(Wipe to a section of wall in another room; she bounds into view and runs in place on her hind legs, letting her tongue flap every which way. This is followed by an ear-to-ear grin, a little more tongue limbering, and a workout for the entire face that begins with a big smile.)
Pinkie: Happy…sad…happy…sad…happy…sad.
(On each word following the first “happy,” she passes a foreleg over her face and changes her expression and tone of voice accordingly. Next she leans toward the camera to give an extreme close-up of her eyes.)
Pinkie: (blinking, crossing eyes) Open, shut, open, shut, open, shut, open, shut.
(Longer shot; she stretches from one side to the other. This shot establishes that she is in the Cake twins’ nursery, as seen in “Baby Cakes.”)
Pinkie: Yeeep, yep, yep, yep, yep, yep, yep, yep. (reversing the move) Nooope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope.
(She leans toward the camera and seems to shake it up and down, voicing a rising/falling whoop at the same time. However, a shot from a different angle puts the babies’ crib on the receiving end of her grab; she gives it a few more shakes and whoops, then blows an enthusiastic raspberry. As she stops to catch her breath, Pound and Pumpkin aim four slightly disgruntled eyes up at her, with a perplexed glance passing briefly between the two.)
(Pinkie wipes sweat from her forehead and lets her haunches drop to the floor for a moment’s rest, but the rump in the turquoise shorts lands squarely on a scatter of jacks. Her eyes pop in mingled pain and surprise, and she rockets up to the ceiling with a yelp. Only the whirling fan up here stops her from smashing a hole in the plaster with her head; vertical momentum turns into a dizzying blur of pink and magenta. Pinkie is flung loose to slam down in a corner of the nursery, scattering a pile of toys in all directions, and three of them land on her head to knock her silly.)
(Pumpkin proceeds to laugh herself stupid at the slapstick display, while Pound smiles hugely and gestures in imitation of it. Their go-to babysitter comes back to her senses with a smile, the last toy falling off her head as she pumps a front hoof.)
Pinkie: Nailed it!
(If this was an accident, she has played it off without a blink; if intentional, she has demonstrated a master’s touch for physical comedy. Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to a rooster perched on a fence post at the edge of Ponyville. It crows in response to the sun rising beyond the distant hills; in the street, a cow strolls lazily up to the open front door of Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie, no longer in her workout gear, pops her head out and gives the cow—Daisy Jo—a big smile.)
Pinkie: Morning, Daisy Jo! You here to pick up some cookies to go with your milk?
Daisy Jo: (Minnesota accent) Oh, yah, Pinkie, dontcha know.
Pinkie: (jumping out, bouncing off Daisy Jo’s back, walking off) Well, Mrs. Cake just baked a fresh batch of your favorite oatmeal.
Daisy Jo: (mooing) Sounds delightful!
(As the happy pink pony trots down the street, she passes Rose at a display of flowers.)
Pinkie: (stopping) Oh, Rose, your calla lilies look even better than last year. I bet you’ll take first prize in the flower show again.
Rose: Thanks, Pinkie. Would you like one?
Pinkie: Absolutely!
(Rose plucks one with her teeth and tosses it over to Pinkie, who catches it in her mouth and eagerly chomps it down before going on her way. A jump, a click of her rear hooves, and she comes across old Mr. Waddle out for a stroll. He has traded his usual small red bow tie for a much larger one with white polka dots.)
Pinkie: Looking fit as a fiddle, Mr. Waddle— (winking) —and you’re wearing my favorite tie!
Mr. Waddle: (adjusting it) Aw, shucks, Miss Pinkie. You flatterer, you.
Pinkie: (addressing herself ahead) Well, happy birthday, Cheerilee! (The latter passes her.)
Cheerilee: Thank you, Pinkie.
Pinkie: Happy day after your birthday, Zecora! (The zebra passes her.)
Zecora: What a lovely hi, Miss Pinkie Pie.
(Her next words are directed at a brown female donkey who stands by Applejack’s apple cart. Brown curly mane, white lace blouse collar secured with a cameo brooch, blue earrings, very light blue eyes.)
Pinkie: And, Miss Matilda, happy birthday to you!
(Matilda aims a very puzzled look at her.)
Pinkie: In one hundred and thirty-two days!
Matilda: (smiling) Pinkie Pie, how do you remember everything about everypony?
Pinkie: (trotting on) ’Cause everypony’s my friend, and I love to see my friends smile!
(She cranks off one of her own, a gleam of reflected light from her spotless white teeth growing to fill the screen.)
Jaunty mandolin/acoustic guitar melody with tambourine, brisk 4, triplet feel (E flat major)
Spoken asides are in square brackets
(The view clears to show Pinkie continuing down the street; she addresses passersby along the way.)
Pinkie: My name is Pinkie Pie [Hello!] and I am here to say [How you doing?]
(A sunbathing mare reclines glumly in shadow, but smiles as Pinkie uses her own weight to bend a nearby tree out of the way.)
I’m gonna make you smile and I will brighten up your day
(She spots two dejected fillies in front of a building.)
It doesn’t matter now [What’s up?] if you are sad or blue [Howdy!]
(She whisks them both away; a moment later they are both on her back.)
’Cause cheering up my friends is just what Pinkie’s here to do
(They slide down the rail of the front steps and land in a wagon stacked with hay bales, cheering the fillies considerably.)
Strings in
Pinkie: ’Cause I love to make you smile, smile, smile, yes I do
(Zoom out to frame Big Macintosh hitched to it; he rears up and gallops off. Cherry Berry beams at the sight.)
It fills my heart with sunshine all the while, yes it does
’Cause all I really need’s a smile, smile, smile
(The fillies give her a pair of them as she jumps out of the wagon.)
From these happy friends of mine
(Cut to a silhouette view of the party pony trotting across the countryside. The entire panorama is done in shades of pink under a blue sky, and it displays a pronounced curvature, as if Ponyville were on a very small planet. After a moment, zoom in quickly on her form and out again; the normal view has been restored, and she jumps rope as two fillies swing the ends. They and several onlookers, including Sweetie Belle, are on the front lawn of the schoolhouse.)
Drums in; strings out
(Scootaloo and another filly join her.)
Pinkie: I’d like to see you grin [Awesome!] I would love to see you beam [Rock on!]
(She gathers these two and the rope-swingers in for a group hug; all five start jumping together, the ends operating by themselves now.)
The corners of your mouth turned up is always Pinkie’s dream [Hoof bump!]
(She flattens the laws of physics and takes Scootaloo along for the ride on these last two words; one pink and one orange hoof reach into view and slap together for a high five. From here, wipe to a solitary Apple Bloom on the lawn, holding one end of a jump rope and morosely regarding the other on the grass. Pinkie spots her from behind the schoolhouse and trots over.)
Strings/electric guitar in
Pinkie: But if you’re kind of worried and your face has made a frown
(Suddenly hoisted on Pinkie’s head, the yellow filly brightens as Pinkie jumps rope.)
I’ll work real hard and do my best to turn that sad frown upside down
Electric guitar out
(Close-up of Bloom’s smiling countenance, the camera zooming in and rotating until it has reached an extreme close-up of her mouth. From here, cut to Pinkie on the move through the street; several other mares fall in behind her to either side.)
Pinkie: ’Cause I love to make you grin, grin, grin, yes I do
(Cut to an unenthused Applejack plying a paintbrush against a board wall and zoom out as Pinkie trots over. The wall is one side of the main barn at Sweet Apple Acres.)
Pinkie: Bust it out from ear to ear, let it begin
(She thinks hard, then snatches a spare brush in her teeth. Close-up of the boards as she uses it with gusto.)
Just give me a joyful grin, grin, grin
(Zoom out. She has painted the wall red to match the rest of the barn, and added her smiling face and an equally happy sun. Applejack’s sprits instantly rise.)
And you fill me with good cheer
(Fade to black.)
All instruments out except acoustic guitar; piano in (straight time)
(Fade in to a slow pan across Pinkie, now tinted blue against a black screen.)
Pinkie: It’s true, some days are dark and lonely, and maybe you feel sad
(She passes o.s.; fade in to her sitting dejectedly on her haunches under a gloomy sky. A second, normally tinted Pinkie pulls her up to a sunlit ridge; the muted color gives way to pink as well.) But Pinkie will be there to show you that it isn’t that bad
Drums/strings in; piano/acoustic guitar out (triplet drums, straight-time vocals)
(Solo Pinkie moves on.)
Pinkie: There is one thing that makes me happy and makes my whole life worthwhile
(Pan from her to other ponies, who stand up to full height and smile broadly.)
And that’s when I talk to my friends and get them to smile
(The speed of the pan increases until the camera passes the sun, which flares to fill the screen with white. Fade in to Pinkie; she turns to a couple of groups of onlookers, who begin to follow her into the street.)
Acoustic/electric guitars, mandolin in; original triplet feel
Pinkie: I really am so happy, your smile fills me with glee
I give a smile, I get a smile, and that’s so special to me
(She gallops ahead and begins to leap from one rooftop to the next, the others following suit.)
Electric guitar out
Pinkie: ’Cause I love to see you beam, beam, beam, yes I do
(Ground level; she trots past a few of them, including Mayor Mare.)
Tell me, what more can I say to make you see that I do?
(Close-up; as she trots along, Twilight Sparkle and Fluttershy fall in. She gets lifted off the ground, to her surprise; zoom out to show Applejack now underneath her, with Rainbow Dash and Rarity in the formation.)
It makes me happy when you beam, beam, beam
Yes, it always makes my day
(Tilt up to the sun, then cut to the six as they proceed down the pony-lined street under a shower of confetti and streamers.)
All instruments out except strings; majestic feel (straight half-time 4)
Pinkie: Come on, everypony, smile, smile, smile, fill my heart up with sunshine, sunshine
(Overjoyed spectators join the impromptu parade.)
All I really need’s a smile, smile, smile from these happy friends of mine
(Windows open up and down the block so that house occupants can sing along with the ones on the ground.)
Drums in
Pinkie, Crowd: Come on, everypony, smile, smile, smile, fill my heart up with
sunshine, sunshine
All I really need’s a smile, smile, smile from these happy friends of mine
Electric guitar, horns in (E major)
(The crowd continues to sing the previous two lines under Pinkie’s counter-melody.)
Pinkie: Yes, a perfect gift for me is a smile as wide as a mile
To make me happy as can be
Pinkie, Crowd: Smile, smile, smile, smile, smile
Half-time feel ends
(Overhead view of Pinkie, zooming out.)
Pinkie, Crowd: Come on and smile
Pinkie: Come on and smile
(Back to her on the last word, which is sung a cappella.)
Song ends with a stinger
(The final note puts her face to face with a rather sour-faced, old gray-brown donkey with limp, drooping ears. He sports light blue eyes and a short, carefully styled dark gray mane that would be right at home on Ronald Reagan’s head. Zoom out slightly to show a harness buckled around his midsection. This is Cranky Doodle Donkey, whose voice is a perfect match for both his age and facial expression.)
Pinkie: I’ve never seen you before.
Cranky: (pulling wagon past her) Kid, you’re smarter than you look.
Pinkie: Thanks! I’m Pinkie Pie. What’s your name?
(The wagon is piled high with an assortment of items both useful and frivolous. Cranky just hauls it past without a word; Pinkie stares uncomprehendingly after him, but soon smiles again and trots to catch up to the rear end.)
Pinkie: (eyeing a board closely) “Property of C.D.D.” I’m guessing that last D is for Donkey.
Cranky: Quick as a whip, kid.
Pinkie: Now how about that C? Hmmm… (popping up around him from all angles; rapid fire) Calvin? Calhoun? Caleb? Carl? Carmine? Carlo? Charlie? Chester? Chico? Claudio? Cletus? Clifford? Conroy? Cornelius? Cortez? Craig? Cristo? Culpepper?
(During this string of guesses, the camera zooms in slowly on his increasingly fed-up expression, putting her o.s. It then zooms out to show her directly in front of him; he stops.)
Cranky: Cranky! It’s Cranky, all right?
Pinkie: And your middle name?
(In close-up, he responds with a barely audible mumble .Pan to her.)
Pinkie: I’m sorry?
(Pan to him; he mumbles louder, then back to her.)
Pinkie: (cupping hoof to ear) One more time? (To him again.)
Cranky: (groaning) Doodle.
(Zoom out to frame both again; she ponders this, then gasps loudly and bugs her eyes out toward him with a smile.)
Pinkie: So you’re a Cranky Doodle Donkey?
Light acoustic guitar/synthesizer line, to the tune of “Yankee Doodle,” fast 4 (G flat major)
Pinkie: (hopping around Cranky, wagon) You’re a Cranky Doodle Donkey guy
A Cranky Doodle Donkey
(pulling his ears) I’ve never met you, but you’re my new friend
And I’m your best friend, Pinkie Pie
Song ends
(He is not amused.)
Pinkie: Come on now, Doodle! (pulling corners of his mouth up) Give a smile!
(It does not take—if anything, he ends up in an even worse mood once his face gets itself sorted out.)
Cranky: (with building rage) Nopony calls me Doodle!
(That unsettles the normally perky Pinkie so much that her hind legs buckle and she ends up sitting on her haunches. Cranky trundles his cart away.)
Pinkie: What just happened?
(Zoom in quickly on one widened pupil until the screen has gone totally black. Within it, a new scene zooms up, styled as if created from pieces cut out of felt or construction paper. Pinkie hops over to Cranky. They are against a light blue backdrop.)
Pinkie: (voice over) Meet somepony new… (A big green check mark appears.) …check.
(It vanishes; now they shake hooves.)
Pinkie: (voice over) Introduce myself… (Another one.) …check. (Vanish; she sings with notes issuing from her mouth.) Sing random song out of nowhere… (Another one.) …check.
(This time, when the check mark disappears, the view changes to a close-up of a cheerful Pinkie and Cranky.)
Pinkie: (voice over) Become instant best friends! (A big red X appears.) Un-check!
(Zoom out quickly through her pupil and stop on the real-life Pinkie.)
Pinkie: I don’t get it. How can somepony not become instant best friends with me? Was it something I said? Was it something I sang?
(She wraps both forelegs around her head to contain her sudden inner panic, but quickly gets herself under control.)
Pinkie: This is no time for the blame game, Pinkie! (standing up) There’s somepony new in town, and you need to win him over! (writing on a notepad) “Try everything you can to make Cranky smile and be your friend.”
(Lowering the pad and quill, she raises the green check mark from her mental playback.)
Pinkie: Check!
(Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to Cranky hauling his wagon down a street. After he has passed an alley, Pinkie sticks her head out for a look.)
Pinkie: All right, Pinkie. (She ducks back in.) If you’re gonna win Cranky’s friendship, you’re gonna have to bring your A-game! (Extreme close-up.) Let’s do this!
(Back to the taciturn donkey. A pink blur whisks ahead and resolves into the bouncy pony as she backs up, hopping, to match his pace.)
Pinkie: Howdy doody, Cranky Doodle!
(His refusal to acknowledge her takes away some of her bounce, but she recovers it and is back out front in short order. In fact, she is now walking backwards to look him in the face, as seen in a close-up.)
Pinkie: So, uh, are you moving to Ponyville, Cranky?
Cranky: What gave you the hint there, kid? (Zoom out to frame the wagon; both stop.) The cart full of stuff, maybe?
Pinkie: (throwing a foreleg over his shoulders) Well, I’d be happy to show you around.
(Cut to her perspective, panning across this bit of the block as she gestures to it.)
Pinkie: It’s the least a new friend can do. (Back to them; he grimaces and pulls loose.)
Cranky: Listen, kid. I traveled around Equestria my entire life. I’ve made many friends. I don’t need any more.
Pinkie: Gosh. I could never have too many friends.
Cranky: Well, why don’t you go and make some more?
Pinkie: But I don’t need to go… (tying his ears in a bow) …when I can stay and make friends with you!
(They pop loose and sag on either side of his head as he lets off an exasperated little bray.)
Cranky: Look, kid. You—
Pinkie: Oh, Cranky, you can call me Pinkie. All of my friends do.
Cranky: Look…kid. I came to Ponyville for some peace and quiet and privacy, to be alone with my memories. (She hops o.s. toward the wagon; he does not notice.) All I want is to get to my new home and unpack my stuff. (Loud clatter from behind him.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Oooooh!
(Cut to her, now plunked amid the assorted cargo and holding up a Christmas tree ornament.)
Pinkie: What does this bauble do? (She gives it a good shake…)
Cranky: Don’t touch that! (…then throws it aside and grabs a top on a stick.)
Pinkie: Oooooh, what’s this?
(A quick bit of hoofwork gets the top spinning; she balances it upright on the stick and it promptly lifts off.)
Cranky: Please don’t!
Pinkie: (pulling out wind chimes) Ohhh, look at these!
(She runs a hoof across, jingling them, and giggles wildly. Cranky slaps them away rounds on her so fiercely that she slowly backs away with a placating smile.)
Cranky: PINKIE! (levelly) Keep your hooves off my wagon! (Longer shot; she has climbed down.)
Pinkie: (softly) Okay, Cranky.
(She walks slowly away with lowered head, only for a humdinger of an idea to flash through her brain after a few paces. A gigantic, ecstatic gasp and hoof-flailing jump come next, after which she vacates the scene at ludicrous speed. As Cranky hauls his belongings, he gets an irritating surprise when she passes him, pulling a second wagon.)
Pinkie: (rapid fire, turning to cut him off) I promised not to touch your wagon ’cause I got one of my own!
(It has a white top and blue sides, with magenta trim the same shade as her mane, and its closed top and ends are decorated with a larger version of her cutie mark. She unhitches herself.)
Pinkie: I use it to welcome folks!
Cranky: Who’d-a guessed?
Pinkie: Maybe we can be wagon buddies!
(He just gives her an ugly look and starts towing his load in a different direction.)
Pinkie: Well, you gotta at least let me give you the special welcome that comes with it.
(He stops; she pouts and gives him her biggest, saddest, most soulful eyes.)
Cranky: (sighing heavily) Let’s get this over with. (Two pink forelegs wrap around his head.)
Pinkie: That’s the spirit!
(He is unceremoniously yanked out of his harness to land in front of her wagon. One press of a large red button on its end causes the top to flip open so that an assortment of horns, waving pennants, and treats can pop out. At the center of the lot is a small oven; red/white striped poles stand at the corners.)
Cheerful calliope-style melody, fast 4 (E flat major)
Pinkie: (dancing) Welcome, welcome, welcome, a fine welcome to you
(She plunks a silly pointed, tasseled hat on Cranky’s head.)
Welcome, welcome, welcome, I say how do you do?
(Picking up a horn, she sticks its bell straight through his ears and blows a loud note that jangles his nerves quite badly. This is promptly yanked away so she can parade around him while pounding a bass drum.)
Pinkie: Welcome, welcome, welcome, I say hip hip hooray
(She ditches this and dances past the contraption again, then slides up to him on her hocks.)
Welcome, welcome, welcome to Ponyville today
Music stops
Pinkie: Wait for it…
Song ends with a stinger
(The oven dings a split-second before this last note, then bursts open to release an explosion of confetti and streamers. The blast is forceful enough to strip Cranky’s hat and mane off his head, revealing the latter as a toupee and leaving only a few straggly hairs atop his head.)
Cranky: NOOOO!!
(The corner poles choose this moment to release gushers of yellowish sludge that cascade down on the pair, covering them from head to hoof. Pinkie opens her eyes through the muck and smiles.)
Pinkie: Oh, silly me! I must have put the confetti in the oven and the cake in the confetti cannons—again!
(Giggling merrily, the peppy pony extricates herself from the mess by stepping backward to leave the cake/batter mix as a hollow replica of herself. She gulps the whole thing down in one jaw-stretching bite; meanwhile, the donkey is blindly trying to feel his way ahead.)
Pinkie: Mmm! Still delicious! Try some, Cranky. It’s sure to make you smile.
Cranky: (blundering past her, grumbling) Where is it? Where is it?
Pinkie: (turning toward him) Where’s what?
(The motion exposes the lost toupee, which has settled down next to her tail. When she takes notice of it, she jumps up with a cry and it falls to the ground.)
Pinkie: Spider! Big hairy spider!
(In close-up, Cranky wipes his eyes clear in time with a stomping noise from o.s.; it proves to be Pinkie, who is using all four hooves to crush the “spider” into submission.)
Cranky: Stop, stop, stop!
(He dashes over; by the time he reaches her and she breaks off her assault, two important things have happened. One, he has cleaned himself up completely. Two, the toupee has been reduced to a ragged mass of hair. She picks this up; close-up of it.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Oh. Was that your wig?
(Cut to frame both; she grins sheepishly, but drops it at the sound of an infuriated bray.)
Pinkie: (hastily) I can fix this! I can fix this!
(She zips away and scrambles to the top of a flagpole, megaphone in hoof. Zoom out to frame Cranky, his wagon, and quite a few onlookers.)
Pinkie: (into megaphone) Hey, everypony! Does anypony have a toupee?
(A slow pan across the befuddled, muttering crowd provides the answer. The pole bends under Pinkie’s weight, bringing her down to point at the mortified donkey; she has the megaphone under her other foreleg.)
Pinkie: This donkey is really, really bald!
(A beat of dead silence is followed by a round of snickering; he blushes mightily and wraps his forelegs over his head with a bray.)
Pinkie: (into megaphone) What’s so funny? (Pole goes upright.) This is serious business, everypony! Cranky needs a new wig to cover his hairless head!
Cranky: (with rising anger) I have had enough!
(He quickly scoops up a tuft of grass in the roadway, plunks it atop his pate, and stomps off toward his wagon. Pinkie gasps softly, having put away the megaphone.)
Pinkie: (to herself) You’re losing him, Pinkie. (ground level; hopping up toward him) Wait, Cranky! Please let me make it up to you!
Cranky: NO! (She bulldozes him along with her head.)
Pinkie: Please? Oh, please, please, please, please, please, please, please?
(Wipe to a mare sitting behind a counter and filing a hoof. She wears a smock with a pocketful of styling implements—comb, scissors, brush—suggesting a salon or spa. Zoom out to frame the waiting room of the spa Fluttershy and Rarity visited in “Green Isn’t Your Color”; Pinkie has shoved the unwilling Cranky in through the front door. The mare is at the receptionist’s desk.)
Pinkie: Ladies, this is a spa emergency! (Cut to Aloe and Lotus; they stand to attention as she continues o.s.) Cranky needs help, stat!
(One pink and one light blue foreleg snake across the room to whisk him away as Pinkie waves cheerfully. A series of wipes depicts the twins’ ministrations: shower and scrub, sauna, massage and pedicure—and the next wipe frames the front door as he trudges out. His grass “wig” has been removed during the sequence, and he is now so clean that he literally gleams in the daylight. The outward overhaul has done little for his mood, though; he sighs heavily and goes on his way, only to have Pinkie pop up and stop him cold.)
Pinkie: Hi, Cranky! (producing a gift box) I have a gift for you.
Cranky: (pushing it aside, walking on) The spa treatment was gift enough.
Pinkie: It’s not going to explode or anything. (He stops.) Promise. Just open it.
(Cut to the darkened interior of the box, the camera pointing up at the lid. A mass of something is partially in view; when the lid is removed, the light comes up to reveal it as a glossy yellow. Cranky peeks in, his eyes popping with surprise, and the camera cuts to frame him and Pinkie. She jams the entire box on his head upside down, then yanks it away so that the item—a carefully coiffed blond toupee—ends up on his head.)
Pinkie: It’s a new toupee! (throwing box aside, holding up a mirror) I had my friend Rarity make it.
(Close-up of his reflection.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) She calls it the Dreamboat Special.
(He eyes the image critically and gives the new hair a tweak; cut to both as Pinkie throws the mirror over her shoulder and gives him a big squeaky grin.)
Cranky: (awed) This is wonderful. (She jitters a bit.) Thanks, kid.
(She leans in close enough to hit him with that grin at point-blank range, but he turns and walks off without any further comment or change of expression. Pinkie drops to her haunches.)
Pinkie: (to herself) He’s starting to warm up, but still no smile. Hmmm…
(Dissolve to a small board house in a quiet spot somewhere outside Ponyville proper. Its walls are gray and its roof a darker shade, due to either paint or weathering, and Cranky has parked his wagon in front and is unloading the gear. As he gets a phonograph balanced on his forelegs, Pinkie’s sudden arrival scares him so badly that he almost drops it. Afternoon has come.)
Pinkie: Hey! Whatcha doin’ there, old buddy, old pal? (He sets it down and reverts to his usual tone.)
Cranky: What’s it look like? (She eyes the scattered items.)
Pinkie: Looks like a yard sale.
(He pushes the phonograph toward the door with his head; she pops hers out of its horn, holding a snow globe.)
Pinkie: I’ll give you two bits for this!
(A good hard shake sets the snow—and a tiny Derpy Hooves—flying among two buildings similar to those seen in Manehattan during “The Cutie Mark Chronicles.”)
Cranky: (dislodging her, pushing on) I’m not selling, kid, I’m unpacking.
Pinkie: Well, why didn’t you say so?
Cranky: (entering house) I thought I had.
(A longer shot of this room frames a stone fireplace/oven, unpainted walls, assorted knickknacks on tables and in boxes. Pinkie bounces in, flicking the snow globe from tail to nose and balancing it.)
Pinkie: This is so pretty! Where’d you get it?
Cranky: Manehattan. Now put it down, gently.
Pinkie: Really! (She noses it onto the mantelpiece.) What were you doing there?
Cranky: (crossing room) Trying to find a friend.
Pinkie: Ooh! I’m always trying to find friends! (somersaulting to him) And today I found you. See how good I am at it?
Cranky: This was a special friend.
Pinkie: Like me?
Cranky: (walking off) No, you’re extra-special, kid.
Pinkie: (to herself, pumping a hoof) Yes! I’m in!
(She follows him. Outside, he has slung a camera around his neck; she whips into view to check out a red ornament sitting on a box as he moves o.s.)
Pinkie: Wow! Where in Equestria did you get this, Cranky?
Cranky: (from o.s.) Fillydelphia.
(Inside, he sets the camera down and she hops in with the bauble dangling from her forelock.)
Pinkie: It’s awfully pretty.
Cranky: (wistfully) Yes, she was.
Pinkie: Huh?
Cranky: (flustered) I mean, it was…I mean, it is. (leaning into her face) Yes, it’s pretty, now put it down!
(She does so, placing it on the table with the phonograph, and notices a scrapbook or photo album lying nearby. This is picked up next.)
Pinkie: I wonder where Cranky got this.
(A bit of page-flipping brings up something she clearly did not expect to find, but the position of the book hides it from view.)
Pinkie: Huh. Will you look at that. (She puts it down.) Hey, Cranky! Can I ask you about—
(On the end of this line, the camera cuts to a close-up of the end of one floor plank as she shifts her hooves. The weight shift causes it to come loose and pivot down like a seesaw, the other end flipping up to send the table and everything on it flying. The red ornament ricochets off the far wall and slices through the rope holding up a lantern; this lands squarely on the fallen book, setting it alight in an instant.)
Pinkie: Oh, no! (Cranky pokes his head in from outside.)
Cranky: What did you say-AY-AY-AY-AY!! (He races in and sees the fire.) What have you done?!?
(What she does next is to grab a cup in her mouth, containing a few flowers, and dump its water over the flames to extinguish them. The book is left a charred, smoking, waterlogged shambles; he hunches helplessly over it, then straightens up as Pinkie tosses the cup aside.)
Pinkie: There…uh…all better?
Cranky: (with mounting rage, brandishing book) No. Not all better, all soggy!
Pinkie: (really rattled) I’m sorry, Cranky!
Cranky: (very snarky) Oh, you’re sorry. Well, then, everything is fine! (Pause.)
Pinkie: (smiling) It is?
Cranky: NO! IT ISN’T! (He slowly backs her out the door.) Listen to me, kid! I will never be your friend! (Cut to outside.)
Pinkie: Never, or never ever?
Cranky: NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER, EVER!!
(He delivers this pronouncement so forcefully that Pinkie’s mane and tail are blown backwards; they stay that way for a long moment after he slams the door. Finally they snap to and she recovers her power of speech.)
Pinkie: (crushed) That’s four “ever”s. That’s like… (eyes tearing up; zoom in slowly) …forever!
(Snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the library and zoom in slowly. It is now the following day.)
Pinkie: (from inside) I just can’t believe it.
(Inside, she paces the reading room floor while Twilight reads a book at the central table.)
Pinkie: Cranky said he would never forever be my friend. (She stops.) It was horrible.
Twilight: I know this is hard for you, Pinkie, seeing that you’re friends with everypony. But you just have to accept that Cranky is gonna be an exception.
(A longer shot of the room frames Rainbow, lounging on the stairs with a book of her own. A few others, open and closed, lie around her as Pinkie resumes her pacing.)
Twilight: He just doesn’t want to be bothered.
(Close-up of the pegasus. The front cover of her book indicates that she is still working her way through the Daring Do series that hooked her in “Read It and Weep.”)
Rainbow: Yeah. He doesn’t want to be bothered by your over-the-top, super-hyper antics. (She les herself go cockeyed on the end of this; back to Twilight.)
Twilight: (annoyed) Rainbow! (Zoom out to frame Pinkie, stopped again.)
Pinkie: No, no. It’s okay, Twilight. I get what you’re saying—what you’re both saying. And I guess…I can leave Cranky alone.
(Twilight smiles and nods to herself, but the pink pony does not notice—as a bigger, much more devious grin is stretching her own mouth out.)
Pinkie: Right after he accepts my apology!
(She hops away, leaving the dumbfounded unicorn to slam her face onto the open book. Dissolve to the exterior of Cranky’s house, now seen during the afternoon, as Pinkie hops up to it. The wagon stands empty in the front yard, which has been cleared of belongings. Inside, he prods forlornly at the ruined book and gets one sodden page on his hoof. His deep blue funk ends with no warning when a bright pink head sticks itself in through the top half of his front door.)
Pinkie: Cranky!
Cranky: No! (His perspective; she stands atop the bottom half.) No!
(Cut to outside; he barrels out with enough speed to set both her and the bottom half spinning, as if they were both mounted on a horizontal axis.)
Cranky: (now o.s.) Leave me alone!
(When the spin stops, the door half is up top and Pinkie—now upside down—still has all four hooves firmly planted on its edge. The camera cuts to her perspective of the fleeing donkey.)
Pinkie: Wait! (Cut to him on a street; she hops to catch up.) I understand that you don’t want me as a friend!
Cranky: No! I don’t! (She chases him through the town square.)
Pinkie: So I just wanted to say I’m sorry!
Cranky: Fine! You said it! (Down another street.)
Pinkie: But do you accept my apology?
Cranky: (now o.s.) No!
(As he continues his headlong rush into Sweet Apple Acres, she pops up from one tree after another to instantly keep pace, knocking apples loose as she goes.)
Pinkie: Oh, Cranky, please accept my apology! Please!
Cranky: NO!
Pinkie: (now hopping along treetops) Look, but I’m really, really, really… (She somersaults down and lands in his path; he stops with a yelp.) …really, really…
(He peels out, leaving her spinning in place, and makes tracks across the Apple family property. Within seconds he has made it to the top of a snow-capped mountain and balanced precariously on its summit. However, he has barely enough time to catch his breath before she pops out of the snow, tossing him into the air with a yell.)
Pinkie: (as he drops like a rock) …really, really, really…
(Cut to a stone bridge over a stream; he ducks beneath it and plasters himself against one abutment. The coast is clear—but only until one of the blocks drops away and two bugged-out blue eyes peek in his direction.)
Pinkie: (from within bridge, reverberating slightly) …really, really, really…
(This time, he voices an alarmed bray and flees back to the orchard, hiding behind a tree. When he peeks out, he finds the whacked-out pink pony right in front of him—dressed in a beaver costume with buck teeth and having chewed her way through a tree trunk.)
Pinkie: …really, really, really…
(His high-speed escape carries him back into town, where he hides behind the pedestal supporting a statue of Princess Celestia. In close-up, he risks a panicked glance around the area; a longer shot puts Pinkie on the scene—having taken the statue’s place. She is out of the beaver suit.)
Pinkie: …really, really, really, really…
(He now appears on a rough sketch of Ponyville and the surrounding area, fleeing from place to place only to have Pinkie’s face pop up at each spot. Each of the first four voices a fresh “really,” after which the entire map quickly tiles itself in with copies of the vivid visage. The repetitions turn into a cacophony that resolves into the following word as the view shifts to the exterior of Cranky’s house.)
Pinkie: (from o.s., echoing) …SORRY!
(He gallops in and slams the door; cut to a close-up of it and tilt up slowly to the sound of locks and barricades being applied. Inside, he slumps wearily next to his handiwork—nailed-up boards, locks, chains, even an anvil for good measure. A few healthy knocks throw a new bolt of fear through him, followed by the sound of retreating hooves and then a blissful silence. But this too comes to an end, in the form of a cloud of soot and the mare’s head emerging upside down from the chimney. He lets off a shocked bray.)
Pinkie: Cranky, please, please accept my apology!
(He slams the oven door shut; now one of her eyeballs squinches itself in through the front door’s keyhole.)
Pinkie: (from outside, through door) I’d do anything to make it up to you!
Cranky: But there’s nothing you can do! You ruined my book! (Cut to her side; he is heard through the door.) You destroyed all I have to remember her by! (She pulls loose.)
Pinkie: “Her”? “Her” who? The special friend?
Cranky: GO AWAY, PINKIE!!
(Even through an opening as small as the keyhole, his words hit hard enough to set her eyes jittering. She turns away from the door, her resigned expression giving way to one of serious mental effort followed by a jubilant smile, and bugs out. Inside, Cranky sits on his haunches with a dejected little grunt and pulls off the blond toupee to resume his sulking; a fresh knock scares a bray out of him.)
Pinkie: (from outside, through door) Cranky, it’s me again. (He stands up, very much on edge.) I understand that you don’t want to be my friend or accept my apology, but before I leave you alone forever… (Grimace; zoom in slowly.) …I have something to at least try to make up for ruining your book.
Cranky: No! I don’t want it, kid! Anything you would give me is sure to lead to some sort of disaster!
(The next voice makes him bray with surprise rather than fear.)
Matilda: (from outside, through door) Goodness! You really are cranky!
(Dumbfounded, he reaches toward the barricade; cut to outside as he gets it all torn down and peeks uncertainly out. This shot frames Pinkie on the step; she starts to enter, but he pushes her aside and aims his wide eyes ahead o.s. Cut to his perspective and tilt up from ground level—the lace-collared donkey whose birthday is over four months away stands here with a gentle smile. Zoom out to frame all of her figure as butterflies flit around it.)
Cranky: It can’t be. (Back to him; he ducks in and peeks out again, wearing the toupee.) Is it really you?
Matilda: It can, and it is. (He steps out to her.)
Cranky: Matilda! (stammering a bit) But how?
(Close-up of her; she inclines her head to one side, the camera panning to frame…)
Matilda: Pinkie.
(Who gives her cantankerous nemesis a big smile and wave.)
Cranky: But…I never told you about her.
Pinkie: You didn’t have to. (holding up pairs of hooves) I put two and two and two together… (All drop o.s.) …and it added up to Matilda.
(To be clear, she does in fact end up showing six hooves during this line.)
Cranky: (confused) What?
Pinkie: (crossing to Matilda) Well, when you were talking about your souvenirs… (winking) …you said something about trying to find a special friend. (He brays quietly, now really flummoxed.) And you know, I wasn’t just born yesterday, nuh-uh. My birthday isn’t for another seventy-five days.
Cranky: Huh?
Pinkie: (with growing enthusiasm) And then, in your scrapbook, there was a flower, an old ticket, and a menu from the Grand Galloping Gala! (now up on hind legs) And I knew I recognized all these things.
Cranky: But how could you have ever seen them before?
Matilda: (holding up a duplicate of his book) Because I also have them in my scrapbook.
(The only difference between the two is their covers; his was blue with a pink ribbon, while hers reverses the two colors.)
Pinkie: And I’d seen them in Matilda’s book!
(The two donkeys lose themselves in the memories brought back by the keepsakes.)
Cranky: Oh, Matilda…the night we met at the Gala was the most magical night of my life.
(On the end of this, dissolve to a black-and-white view of his much younger and happier self, with a full mane and wearing a necktie. The image is slightly washed out as if it were part of an old movie, and the accompanying waltz soundtrack has its share of phonograph-record pops and crackles. A scarf-clad young Matilda gives him a kiss on the cheek; behind the pair stands a stained-glass window within Canterlot Castle. The peck brings a goofy ear-to-ear smile across his face, and he follows her past other Gala guests through the ballroom. Dissolve to put them in front of the winged unicorn statue and semicircle of columns that Rainbow will bring down many years from the time; they talk, laugh, and nuzzle contentedly against each other.)
Cranky: (voice over) I couldn’t wait to see you again.
(Cut to just inside an open door, he peeks in, his face going slack with surprise.)
Cranky: (voice over) But when I came to your room the next day… (Long shot; he is looking into an empty castle suite.) …you were gone. (He backs out sadly.)
Matilda: (voice over) Didn’t you get my note?
Cranky: (voice over) No! (Leave; door closes; a note falls off and flutters down.) I never got it.
(Dissolve to a profile close-up of him, walking eagerly through Canterlot’s streets.)
Cranky: (voice over) And ever since that day, I’ve gone from town…to town…to town…searching all over Equestria for you.
(On each pause, the view dissolves to put him in a new locale—Manehattan, the desert outside Appleloosa, Ponyville—and add a few years and take away some of his zeal and mane. The Ponyville shot puts his original dark toupee on his now-bald scalp. From here, dissolve to the present day and tilt down from the roof of his house, framing Pinkie and both donkeys on the start of the next line.)
Cranky: Until finally I gave up. I came to Ponyville to retire from my search. (Close-up.)
Matilda: (leaning toward him) I was living in Ponyville the whole time. I always hoped that someday you would come and find me…Doodle.
Pinkie: (suddenly unnerved) Uh, Matilda… (She zips in close.) …nopony calls him Doodle. (Cranky approaches Matilda.)
Cranky: Nopony…but Matilda.
(As they share an affectionate nuzzle after who knows how many years apart, Pinkie breaks out in a shining-eyed little grin. Matilda pulls in a soft gasp.)
Matilda: Oh, Doodle, I’m so happy to see you.
(She proves it by giving him a kiss on the nose, just as she did at the Gala; he voices an uncertain little bray, his sagging ears starting to rise. Pinkie’s grin stretches a bit as his mouth begins to quiver, and he bites his lower lip for a second before busting out his own grin from ear to ear. Now Pinkie struggles to contain her own elation, her pupils growing to nearly fill her eye sockets as a tiny funny happy noise escapes her throat. The two donkeys nuzzle again.)
Pinkie: (giddily, with a little moan) So does this mean that you accept my apology?
Cranky: Yes, Pinkie, I accept your apology, and I am honored to call you my friend.
(Sheer joy sets up sympathetic vibrations in every inch of the grinning pony, and she literally lifts off like a rocket, leaving several hundred feet of sparkly pink exhaust in her wake. Behind her, the sky erupts in a multicolored series of firework explosions at the peak of her flight.)
Pinkie: WOO-HOO!! This is just fantastic! (She drops to the dirt and bounds around them.) Oh, now we can hang out together and chat and sing songs and… (Gasp.) …PARTY!! Ooh, I can throw you guys a big party! It’ll be called the “Welcome to Ponyville, I Found My Lost Love, I’m BFF’s with Pinkie Pie” party!
(She has gotten so carried away that she does not notice the couple sharing a tender moment, completely unperturbed by her antics. Once she finally stops for air, she realizes that she has gone a bit too far and dials herself back.)
Pinkie: (sheepishly) Or maybe something less over-the-top and not so super-hyper.
Cranky: Pinkie, we’re eternally grateful to you, but… (stammering a bit) …Matilda and I just want to spend some time together in peace and quiet.
Pinkie: Oh…um, but we’re still friends?
Cranky: (crossing to her) Pinkie, you went way, way, way out of your way to make me happy. Of course we’re friends. (He and Matilda walk past her toward the house.)
Pinkie: Great!
(She watches them walk in through the front door.)
Pinkie: (voice over, dictating) “Dear Princess Celestia…”
(Dissolve to a long overhead view of Ponyville and tilt down to the town square. It is daytime.)
Pinkie: (voice over) “There are many different kinds of friends and many ways to express friendship.”
(Roof level; she bounds along, followed by several other locals.)
Pinkie: (voice over) “Some friends like to run and laugh and play together.” (Inside Cranky’s house; he and Matilda cross the floor.) “But others just like to be left alone, and that’s fine too.”
(Outside, she walks away from the house, the camera zooming out slowly to follow her.)
Pinkie: (voice over) “But the best thing about friendship is being able to make your friends smile.”
String/acoustic guitar chord melody, leisurely 4 (G flat major)
Tune similar to “The Yankee Doodle Boy,” a.k.a. “Yankee Doodle Dandy”
Pinkie: He had a Cranky Doodle sweetheart
(Inside, the two donkeys pucker up; she is heard from outside.)
She’s his Cranky Doodle joy
Drums/acoustic guitar in, double time, fast 4 (similar to last two lines of the tune)
(She pops up outside the window and sings loudly, surprising them.)
Pinkie: I helped the Cranky Doodle boy, yes
I helped the Cranky Doodle boy
Song ends
Cranky, Matilda: (warningly) Pinkie!
Pinkie: Whoops, privacy. Sorry.
(Fade to black.)
(The usual closing theme does not accompany the credits. In its place is a piano rendition of “Yankee Doodle,” in E major.)
PUTTING YOUR HOOF DOWN
Story by Charlotte Fullerton
Written by Merriwether Williams
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of Fluttershy’s cottage during the day. Zoom in slowly to the sound of a bell ringing.)
Fluttershy: (from inside) Lunchtime!
(Birds and critters converge on the dwelling; cut to the upper reaches of the living room as others make their way down from the ceiling.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Who’s hungry?
(Ground level; she pours out a pile of feed from a box.)
Fluttershy: Plenty for everypony.
(An odd choice of words, perhaps, since she is the only pony in the place. The hungry animals hurry down, one squirrel using her head as a springboard; all chow down eagerly as she hovers over them. A gray rabbit gets body-checked away by a mouse.)
Fluttershy: Slow down, sweetie.
(All give her a puzzled look for the briefest moment, then resume their gorging; the mouse jumps up and knocks the box from her grasp. As it pours the food into its gullet, causing its entire body to swell up, she swoops over to snatch the box with a chuckle. A thumping noise prompts her into a 180-degree pivot; pan to frame Angel over here. He stands next to an empty bowl and is tapping his foot crossly on the floorboards.)
Fluttershy: (filling bowl) Here you go, Angel bunny.
(One kick flips the bowl into the air so that it lands upside down on her head, dumping the contents and causing her to lose hold of the box. More annoyed tapping greets her as she pulls the bowl off.)
Fluttershy: Okay, Mr. Picky Pants, you win.
(She picks up a bowl of salad from a table; close-up of him as it is set down alongside.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Carrots, lettuce, and apples. Yum-yum-yum!
(This is flung away, surprising the pegasus greatly.)
Fluttershy: What? But…
(A nibble at a cucumber slice causes the white-furred face to turn green and its owner to pitch backward and down o.s.; there is a thud, followed by a flower popping up into view. A longer shot reveals that Angel is clasping the blossom over his chest as if dead.)
Fluttershy: Well, then, what will you eat?
(He comes to, zips away with a smile, and returns with an open cookbook. The page he points out depicts a salad piled high with fruit and topped with whipped cream and a cherry.)
Fluttershy: I’m not sure I can even make that. (Her perspective; he points angrily.) Well…I don’t want you to starve.
(Back to her, now smiling pleadingly.)
Fluttershy: (holding up a lettuce leaf) Oh, are you sure I can’t tempt you with a nice crisp piece of—
(She gets it knocked off her hoof, her face slapped, and the book thrust into her face.)
Fluttershy: (sighing heavily) I’ll make your special recipe.
(Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to several produce stands set up in the town square and zoom out to frame Fluttershy looking on from a distance. Business is good. She has her saddlebags slung up and is holding a scroll.)
Fluttershy: Hmmm…let’s see.
(Her perspective of the sheet, tilting down; radishes, carrots, and broccoli are checked off, but asparagus and tomatoes are not. She points at…)
Fluttershy: Asparagus.
(Cut to frame her as she walks over to an asparagus stand. Caramel collects a bunch and departs, as does the stallion behind him, leaving five on the counter. Before Fluttershy can step up, an orange-maned unicorn mare with reading glasses zips in and beats her to it. She appears identical to Lucy, the pegasus stage manager in “Sonic Rainboom,” with two immediate differences: the lack of a headset microphone and the fact that she is of a different race.)
Fluttershy: Excuse me, um, I think you just stepped in front of me?
(Lucy 2 pays no mind, levitating a coin onto the counter and floating a bunch away during this line with some annoyance.)
Fluttershy: (as she departs) Excuse me, I think you made a mistake? (hastily, following her) You see, I was actually here first and— (She stops.)
Lucy 2: Sorry, didn’t notice you there!
Fluttershy: (to herself) I know.
(Lucy 2’s departure reveals a third difference from her pegasus counterpart: her cutie mark shows a bunch of carrots, rather than three tornadoes. Behind her, an elderly earth pony stallion approaches; his laugh and mumble catch her off guard, and she comes up behind him. Khaki coat, green eyes, white/gray mane/tail with bushy eyebrows, light orange golf shirt with white collar/cuffs, cutie mark of a golf club and two balls.)
Fluttershy: Oh, pardon me, sir.
Old stallion: (mumbling, holding up ear trumpet) Yes? What?
Fluttershy: I think you just cut in front of me.
Old stallion: A cut of celery? (lowering trumpet; disdainful mutter) This is the asparagus stand! (Close-up of the device.)
Fluttershy: (circling around) I said… (speaking into it; reverberating) …I think you just cut in front of me!
(On the end of this, zoom out to frame both ponies; he flips a coin onto the counter.)
Old stallion: (laughing) No need, dearie. I’m already in front.
(Grabbing a bunch in his teeth, he walks off; two earth pony mares stand up into view to take his place. The first is light blue, with a two-tone orange mane/tail secured by magenta bows; the other is light pink, her two-tone blue mane/tail held with light yellow bands, and has lightning-bolt earrings and orange sunglasses. Both are dressed in typical 1980s fashion and speak with a Valley Girl accent. Their cutie marks are a palm tree and surfboard, respectively.)
Fluttershy: (to herself, a bit annoyed) I noticed.
Mare 1 (orange mane): …and then I was like, “Uh, well…”
Fluttershy: Hey! (Both roll their eyes at her.)
Mare 1: Would you mind moving back? You’re in my personal space. (Fluttershy eyes the wide empty area between herself and them.)
Fluttershy: But—
Mare 2 (sunglasses): (as Fluttershy slinks backward) Seriously, do you need your asparagus so badly? Get a life!
(Soft snickering as she retreats past Pinkie Pie and Rarity without noticing them.)
Fluttershy: Oh, okay. There’s no rush.
Rarity: Fluttershy! (Stop.) You mustn’t let them treat you that way.
Fluttershy: (turning away) Oh, it’s—it’s really no big deal. (One bunch of asparagus is left now.)
Pinkie: It’s bigger than big! It’s double-big! You are a pony with a problem!
Fluttershy: What problem?
(The other two trade a calculating glance and nod, after which Pinkie turns Fluttershy to face the stand and zips up to it so fast that the yellow pony gets spun in place and dumped flat.)
Fluttershy: Oh, go right ahead, Pinkie Pie. You first. (Pinkie leans down to her.)
Pinkie: Right there! (tapping Fluttershy’s forehead) That’s the problem!
Rarity: You’ve got to stop being such a doormat. (Fluttershy stands up.)
Fluttershy: A doormat?
Rarity: A pushover, darling. (Pinkie walks over.) You’ve got to stand up for yourself! Promise us.
Fluttershy: (uncertainly, walking to stand) Okay. I promise. (Her perspective of the last bunch, zooming in.) Oh, good!
(Before she can lay her money down, a geeky earth pony stallion strolls past and nips the produce away, tossing a coin down in its place. Off-white coat, brown mane/tail, taped-together glasses in front of blue eyes, straggly mustache over pronounced buck teeth, very bad complexion. He carries saddlebags and wears a green bow tie with white cross-hatched stripes. Back to the dejected pegasus.)
Fluttershy: Oh, that’s okay, I don’t mind. (Rarity races over.)
Rarity: Watch and learn. (trotting toward the geek) Hold it right there, Mr. Small and Handsome!
Geek stallion: Uh…who, me?
Rarity: (seductively) Well, of course, you. Nopony ever called you handsome before? (Cut to him on the end of this.)
Geek stallion: Uh…that’d be a big no.
Rarity: Oh! Well, they should. (lifting his foreleg) How about flexing some of your muscles for me?
(The attention brings a dopey smile to his face and sets his bow tie spinning and tail waving, and he flexes that limb as tightly as he can. In close-up, one tiny bulge of muscle forms, accompanied by the o.s. Rarity’s gasp.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) Oh, my heavens! (Cut to frame both.) Do you think a strong, handsome stallion such as yourself… (levitating his coin onto his nose, asparagus from his bags) …could give my friend the last asparagus?
(He can only manage a goofy laugh as she trots back to Fluttershy; close-up of the latter as her bag is magically opened and the food dropped in.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) See? That’s not so hard, is it? (Zoom out to frame both.)
Fluttershy: Um…I guess not. (The shopping list is floated out; bag closes.)
Rarity: All right, then! What else is on your list? (It is unrolled.)
Fluttershy: Let’s see. I also need tomatoes.
(Wipe to a close-up of three tomatoes on a counter; one yellow wing sweeps them gently off, and she leans in to lay down a coin in her teeth.)
Fluttershy: Here you go.
(She backs off; cut to frame all of this stand and the slightly perplexed earth pony mare running it. Cream-colored coat, brown mane/tail, white paper cap, green apron, blue-green eyes. The signs on her bins indicate that two coins are needed to purchase three tomatoes.)
Tomato vendor: (clearing throat) That’ll be two bits… (Fluttershy stops.) …not one.
Fluttershy: Oh, but last week it was only one bit.
Tomato vendor: That was then, this is now. (Close-up of the counter.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s., laying another coin down) Oh, okay. (Cut to frame both.) I don’t want to argue about it.
(As soon as she backs away, an indignant Pinkie takes her place. The vendor’s cutie mark is now seen: three tomatoes.)
Pinkie: What do you think you’re doing?
Tomato vendor: Minding my own business. Maybe you should try it.
Pinkie: Two bits for tomatoes is outrageous. (Close-up of the counter; she pulls one away and continues o.s.) One bit is the right price.
Tomato vendor: (from o.s., pulling it back) I say it’s two bits! (Cut to frame both.)
Pinkie: (pulling it away) One bit!
Tomato vendor: (pointing to sign) Two bits!
Pinkie: (holding up her own) One bit! (Fluttershy peeks up over the counter’s end.)
Tomato vendor: (pulling coin across) Two bits!
Pinkie: (banging counter; coin jumps to her) One bit!
Tomato vendor: (ditto) Two bits!
(Close-up of the counter; Pinkie shifts the second bit’s position, but leaves it on her adversary’s side of the counter.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Two bits!
Tomato vendor: (from o.s., pushing it toward Pinkie) One bit!
Pinkie: (pushing it back) Two bits!
Tomato vendor: (from o.s., ditto) One bit!
Pinkie: (ditto, leaning into view, shrilly) I insist it’s two bits or nothing!
(Her perspective of the other mare’s face—upside down, due to the positioning of her head.)
Tomato vendor: One bit and that’s my final offer! (Cut to frame both; Pinkie straightens up with a smile.)
Pinkie: (whisking extra bit away) Have it your way. One bit it is.
(She and Fluttershy clear out at a full gallop, leaving the vendor smiling smugly to herself. Only when she ducks down to pick up the money does she realize the turnabout Pinkie has pulled; the latter shares a giggle with Rarity as the three friends walk off.)
Pinkie: See? Asserting yourself can be fun!
Fluttershy: I guess you’re right.
Rarity: So, Fluttershy, do you feel like giving it a try?
Fluttershy: Um, okay.
(The other two keep walking as she stops with a pop-eyed stare; cut to a cherry vendor’s stall and zoom in quickly. A single piece of fruit rests before the impassive, stubble-faced pegasus stallion on duty. Dark khaki coat, light blond mane/tail, blue eyes peering out from underneath the brim of a dark blue motorcycle cap, white apron, red bow tie, cutie mark hidden under his folded wing.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) I need that cherry! (Back to her; she races up and hovers.) Boy, am I glad you have one cherry left. (landing) You see, I’m making this special meal for my bunny Angel—he’s a very picky eater— (opening saddlebag with a wing) —and the recipe calls for a cherry on top.
(A quick dip of the head brings up a bit in her teeth; she tosses it down.)
Fluttershy: Here you go.
Cherry vendor: (shrewdly) So, you say you need this cherry very badly.
Fluttershy: Oh, yes. I’m desperate for it.
Cherry vendor: Then it’ll be ten bits!
Fluttershy: (aghast) Ten?!?
(Pan to Pinkie and Rarity behind her; the former nods, the latter throws her an encouraging grin and gesture, and Fluttershy brings her eyebrows down over the blue-green irises. A second later they are up again, and she puts on her best attempt at Rarity’s sweet-talking routine.)
Fluttershy: (nervously, speeding up) Oh, hey, Mr. Handsome. I know you want to do the right thing because you’re handsome and…and strong, and big handsome strong guys are always nice to everypony, right?
(Batting the eyelashes and grinning hugely have no effect whatsoever on the stolid unshaven countenance.)
Cherry vendor: Ten bits for the cherry!
(Now Pinkie grins and gestures while Rarity nods; taking the hint, Fluttershy turns away and puts on an appropriately fed-up air.)
Fluttershy: Ten bits for one cherry’s outrageous! (Close-up of him; she continues o.s.) I insist on paying you… (leaning into view) …eleven bits!
Cherry vendor: (surprised) Eleven bits?
Fluttershy: Um…I mean…nine bits! (Cut to Pinkie and Rarity, trading a confused look.)
Cherry vendor: (from o.s.) Uh, now wait a minute!
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Okay, twelve bits— (Rarity’s jaw drops; Pinkie tries to bury her head in the dirt.) —but that’s my final offer!
(The white unicorn ends up covering her mouth to keep from vomiting, followed by a tap on Pinkie’s head.)
Cherry vendor: (from o.s.) I think you’re confused! (Cut to the stall.)
Fluttershy: It’s twelve bits. Take it or leave it!
Cherry vendor: Okay, I’ll take it!
(The brief flash of a smile betrays his glee at having come out on top. Fluttershy leans over to drop a bag of money in front of him, but, but she gets yanked backwards as Rarity’s magic grabs it out of her teeth and lifts away the single coin. She gets dragged after them.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Don’t give him your money!
(Cut to all three; Rarity has Fluttershy’s tail in her teeth to haul her away. The bag lands on Pinkie’s head.)
Pinkie: One cherry is not worth twelve bits!
Fluttershy: But…I was only doing what you did. (Stop; Rarity lets go.)
Rarity: It was a valiant effort, but you should refuse to give him your business and just walk away. (Zoom in slowly on Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: But I can’t let Angel starve! He won’t eat it unless I make it just right! (Zoom out quickly; she stands up.) I need that cherry, no matter what it costs! (Race back to the stand.)
Cherry vendor: In that case… (smiling nastily) …twenty bits! (Close-up of Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: Twenty? (Zoom out; she stops her flight.) Oh, but…I don’t have that much.
Cherry vendor: Then why are you wasting my time?
(Lemon Hearts walks past, levitating two bits onto the counter.)
Lemon: I’ll give you two bits for that cherry.
Cherry vendor: Sold! (She floats it away.) Eh, tough break, kid. Next time don’t be such a doormat.
(Said doormat pouts, hangs her head, and plods away as her two friends stare with deep concern. Dissolve to the exterior of her cottage, whose mailbox is now stuffed with the day’s deliveries. A dark gray goat, carrying a basket of envelopes or pamphlets in its teeth, walks away over the bridge spanning the brook. It wears a red necktie and a wireless headset microphone, and a laminate-style ID badge hangs around its neck.)
(Cut to a close-up of Angel inside, sitting at a table and tying a napkin around his neck; zoom out slightly to show a candle in a bottle across from him. Fluttershy reaches into view and sets down the piled-high salad from the cookbook—with everything but the cherry on top.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Ta-da! (He opens his mouth to gulp it down.) Here you go, Angel. (Cut to her.) Sorry there’s no cherry on top, but—
(His ears pop up in surprise; back to him, pulling out the cookbook for a read.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) —the rest of it is exactly what you wanted.
(After a couple of glances at the page and the food, he growls and his expression turns into the sort that a very small child might display before launching into a full-scale tantrum.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Angel?
(Cut to just outside the front door, whose top half is open. The salad is flung out, followed by its maker, who crashes into the mailbox and tumbles down amid a shower of letters. She winds up flat on her face with a little moan as the mail flutters down; zoom in.)
Fluttershy: (sadly) Look at me. I really am a doormat.
(One item settles on her head—a pamphlet whose front cover shows the red silhouette of a bull’s head. She pulls this free, her face registering mild surprise as she inspects it.)
Fluttershy: (reading) “The incredible Iron Will turns doormats into dynamos.” (She unfolds it; a little bull-headed figure pops out.) “Assertiveness seminar today, hedge maze center.”
(She lowers the pamphlet, eyebrows descending into a glare of sudden resolve as the camera zooms in slowly.)
Fluttershy: As Celestia is my witness— (Longer shot; she stands up.) —I’m never gonna be a pushover again!
(Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of a meadow hedge maze, seen from the top of a nearby hill. It is not nearly as expansive as the one seen in “The Return of Harmony,” and the large open area at the center can easily be seen. Quite a few ponies are on their way in; the banner over the entrance, and the visible stage proscenium at the center, both carry the bull-head design from Fluttershy’s pamphlet. Zoom in slowly, then dissolve to just inside the entrance to the center as the crowd files in. A white goat, outfitted identically to the gray one that left Fluttershy’s house, stands here to keep an eye on things; the only difference is that this one’s tie is blue rather than red.)
(Well behind the others, Fluttershy peeks timidly around the corner and lets her eyes pop when she notices the goat, whose attention is directed elsewhere. She proceeds to slink in as if wishing she could cast an industrial-strength invisibility spell over herself. Cut to a head-on view of the stage and zoom out as she makes her way forward; speakers are set up at each end, along with a topiary carved to resemble a muscular minotaur—bull head, humanoid body. After a moment, Fluttershy begins to ease across the front row.)
Fluttershy: (amid occasional little yelps) Oh!…Excuse me.
(She shoehorns herself in between Daisy and Bon Bon, to the amusement of neither, and gives them the biggest “please don’t hurt me” grin she can muster. However, it fails to have any impact, judging from her short and graceless trajectory as she is flung over the crowd to land in its back row. Now the speakers blare a pounding rock beat as both goats get into position; White starts up a fog machine, while Gray switches on a spotlight on an elevated platform and aims it at the stage. The illuminated circle settles on the center of the hazy area as the camera zooms in and the music builds.)
(Through the fog, a caped figure rises into view, bearing the same horns as those seen around the area. One goat darts in to nip the cape away and fully expose the wearer’s silhouette: bull head, muscular humanoid arms and torso, standing upright on a deer’s hind legs, long slim tail. Fireworks burst around this figure, which punches at the air as the fog clears away to expose a few more details of Iron Will: black necktie, dark tuft on his tail and Mohawk-cut mane. The crowd cheers and stomps its approval; once the light show dies down, he can be seen to have dark grayish-blue legs and lighter hair over his upper body and tail. A close-up picks out the wireless headset microphone plugged into his ear, the steel ring through his nose, his beady black eyes with yellowed whites and red-rimmed lower lids, and a short tuft of beard. The mane, tail tuft, and beard are the same shade as his lower body. He kisses his biceps before addressing the crowd and pacing the stage, with a demeanor lies somewhere between “motivational speaker” and “professional wrestler.” All of his lines during this scene are amplified by the sound system.)
Iron: Welcome, friends! My name is Iron Will, and today is the first day of your new life! (hand to ear) I want to hear you stomp if you’re tired of being a pushover!
(The crowd does exactly that while cheering wildly. Fluttershy jumps up and down, trying to get a good look at him from the back.)
Iron: (crossing stage) Stomp if you’re tired of being a doormat! (They do so; he crosses back.) Stomp if you want to pay nothing for this seminar!
(They do so again, but this response quickly gives way to confused murmurs and then laughter. A steely glare and huff from Iron stop them cold.)
Iron: That’s no joke, friends. Iron Will is so confident that you will be one hundred percent satisfied with Iron Will’s assertiveness techniques— (Both goats are now down in front of the stage.) —that if you are not one hundred percent satisfied, you pay nothing!
(On each of these last three words, the camera cuts in closer, ending with an extreme close-up of his face. He then leans over the edge and toward one stallion.)
Iron: But I pity the fool who doubts Iron Will’s methods. (getting in his face) You don’t doubt me, do you?
Audience stallion: (nervously, sweating) Oh! Uh-uh, no, sir.
(The rest of the audience voices their agreement. A longer shot reveals that Iron is now standing on the backs of his two goat assistants, who back up slightly.)
Iron: That, my friends, is your first lesson. Don’t be shy— (winking) —look ’em in the eye.
(Cut to Fluttershy, who smiles to herself as the crowd talks excitedly; on the next line, the view shifts to her perspective. He is back on the stage.)
Iron: Now, to demonstrate that Iron Will’s techniques will work for anypony, I’m gonna need a volunteer.
(Dozens of hooves instantly shoot up; back to Fluttershy, who sinks out of sight instead. Both goats move through the crowd, scoping out the prospects; White stops to bleat and point, and Gray returns to the stage to tell the boss.)
Iron: (pointing; crowd parts) You in the back row!
(A quick zoom in to the far end of the brand-new aisle puts the focus on Lily and Rose, who back off to either side to reveal a huddled Fluttershy trying to disappear behind her own mane.)
Fluttershy: Who, me?
Iron: Yes, you! Iron Will wants you onstage! (Extreme close-up: she swallows hard.)
Fluttershy: Uh, well… (His reflection appears in her pupils.)
Iron: Now! (Shudder; long shot of her.)
Fluttershy: (whispering) Okay.
(She trots behind the crowd and up onto one end of the stage, but White darts in to bar the way as soon as she arrives. Her dodge around the goat is met with a second interception.)
Iron: Whoa, he’s blocking your path! What are you gonna do about it?
Fluttershy: Um, politely walk around him?
Iron: No.
Fluttershy: Gingerly tiptoe around him?
Iron: (a bit annoyed) No.
Fluttershy: Go back home and try again tomorrow? (He moves behind her.)
Iron: No! When somepony tries to block, show them that you rock!
(The end of this, aimed at the back of her head, is delivered with the intensity of a small gale. Now the self-help minotaur flicks an index finger into Fluttershy’s rump, hard enough to propel her into White and knock him away. She gets knocked silly for a moment, while White tumbles down on his back.)
Fluttershy: Oh! Sorry.
Iron: Don’t be sorry! Be assertive! Never apologize when you can criticize!
(Clearing his throat, he leans down over the supine White at close range.)
Iron: (full force) Why don’t you watch where you’re going? (He stands up and addresses Fluttershy at normal volume.) Now, you try.
(The soft-spoken pegasus glances down at White.)
Fluttershy: Uh… (She works up a little nerve.) …next time, get out of the way before I bump into you, ’cause I totally won’t be sorry when I do!
(She grimaces as if expecting a blow, but Iron just smiles as coins ring up in his eyes—money in the bank. Close-up of her.)
Iron: (from o.s., grabbing her foreleg) You see, my friends? (He hoists her up, cut to frame both.) If my techniques can work for this shy little pony, then they can work for anypony!
(Fireworks explode around them while the crowd cheers wildly, and a smile gradually settles on Fluttershy’s face as the camera zooms in slowly on her. Dissolve to the exterior of her cottage, zooming in slowly again.)
Fluttershy: (from inside) Okay.
(Inside, she regards herself in a large mirror that has one of Iron’s pamphlets taped to either side of its frame; many of her animal friends are watching.)
Fluttershy: I feel good. I feel ready to “attack the day,” as Iron Will says.
(She trots determinedly across the room on the end of this line. Cut to outside as she opens the front door; a streaming garden hose nozzle is being held in view near the camera. Fluttershy stops short upon seeing this, and the view shifts to just behind her. It is being held by Mr. Greenhooves, the elderly gardener on duty at Canterlot Castle in “The Best Night Ever.” The elderly stallion hums to himself as he waters a rather swampy patch of flowers.)
Fluttershy: (galloping down to him) Excuse me, Mr. Greenhooves, but I-I think you might be over-watering my petunias… (He chuckles.) …again.
Mr. Greenhooves: (scornfully) Let the professional handle it.
(She turns around to go back to the cottage, but snaps fully upright after only a step or two. As he hums some more, she opens her mouth to speak, closes it, then finds her nerve.)
Fluttershy: (to herself) “Treat me like a pushover and you’ll get the once-over.”
(One yellow hoof comes down on the hose, pinching it off so that the water backs up and causes the tubing to bulge like an overinflated balloon. Mr. Greenhooves eyes the suddenly dry nozzle.)
Mr. Greenhooves: Hm? (shaking/peering into it) Hmmm…
(Cut to Fluttershy, who moves her hoof so that the backed-up water surges along the hose. There is a loud splash, and the soaked, spluttering gardener backs up into view.)
Mr. Greenhooves: Well, perhaps that is enough water. (Big sheepish grin.)
Fluttershy: (disdainfully) Thank you.
(She turns away, not noticing the frown that comes over the old face, and trots off. At the top of the bridge over the brook, on her way off the property, she rears up and lets off a giddy little squeal.)
Fluttershy: I can’t believe it worked!
(She goes on with a giggle. Wipe to a close-up of Bon Bon and Cherry Berry, standing side by side on a bridge and hooked up in harnesses.)
Cherry: (rolling eyes) Showpony business is tough.
(Longer shot: they stand on a bridge over the stream bordering Ponyville, each hauling a wagonload of garbage.)
Bon Bon: Like, go ahead. Try one of your jokes out on me. I laugh at everything.
(On the end of this, pan back in the direction they came to frame Fluttershy’s approach.)
Cherry: (now o.s.) Okay, okay, okay. A donkey and a mule are stuck on a desert island. (Fluttershy clears her throat firmly, stepping on the bridge.)
Fluttershy: Excuse me! Would you mind moving your carts so I can pass? (Both glare back at her.)
Cherry: Yeah, yeah, in a minute. I just want to finish up this story. (They face front again.) And so the donkey says to the mule—
Fluttershy: (irritated) A-hem! Can you move? You’re blocking my path.
Cherry: Yeah, yeah, in a minute! (to Bon Bon) So the donkey says to the mule… (Her words fade out under the next line as the camera cuts to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: (to herself) “When somepony tries to block, show them that you rock.”
Cherry: (from o.s.) And the mule says—
(The punchline remains a mystery, as Fluttershy chooses this moment to buck the rear ends of both wagons at once. They flip up to vertical and back again, dumping torrents of refuse over the two conversing mares.)
Cherry: Ugh! Easy does it, lady! (She and Bon Bon pull the carts ahead.) We’re moving, okay?
Fluttershy: Good!
(She walks on with a smirk. Wipe to her on the way toward Sugarcube Corner, then cut to just inside the front door as she steps in. Daisy is standing here, positioned so that Fluttershy can barely get through the entrance; the latter stares ahead with popping eyes.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Who’s next, please, and what can I get for you today?
(During this line, the camera cuts to frame her at the counter, with a long line of ponies stretching back and Fluttershy at the end of it, then back to the pegasus. A light blue hoof taps her shoulder, and the mare attached to it nips in to cut ahead of her and bump her backwards.)
Fluttershy: (annoyed) What do you think you’re doing? Didn’t you see me?
Mare 3: Uh, I—I guess, maybe.
Fluttershy: Maybe? “Maybe’s are for babies!”
(A flick of one foreleg against the interloper’s shoulder spins her like a top; she comes out of it half-hunched down and facing one irate customer.)
Fluttershy: (harshly) Now go to the back of the line where you belong!
(She does so—and, to avoid getting anything worse than a scathing grimace, all the other patrons gasp and hastily back up out the door. Fluttershy smirks over her shoulder in extreme close-up as the camera pans to frame Pinkie on the start of the next line.)
Pinkie: Heeey! Look at you! (Rarity zips up alongside with a laugh.)
Rarity: (as Pinkie nods) Your attitude is so feisty, it’s fabulous!
(Cut back to Fluttershy on these last two words; she covers the gap between herself and the pair in one graceful, flapping leap.)
Pinkie: Looks like that monster’s workshop really paid off!
Fluttershy: (normal tone) Iron Will’s not a monster, he’s a minotaur, and a true inspiration. His techniques really work.
Rarity: Well, they’ve certainly made a difference in the way you carry yourself. You truly are a whole new Fluttershy. (Cut to her on the end of this.)
Fluttershy: Yes, I am. (hovering briefly) And New Fluttershy feels pretty stoked about New Fluttershy.
Pinkie: Well, Old Pinkie Pie feels really proud of New Fluttershy—proud as pink punch! (She whips a bowlful onto the counter.) Want some?
(The subsequent gale of snorting giggles sends her to the floor but ticks Fluttershy off quite a bit.)
Fluttershy: “You laugh at me? I wrath at you!”
(A shove, and the punchbowl tumbles off Pinkie’s side of the counter. Rarity stares in mute disbelief as the assistant baker stands up with the thing on her head. However, Fluttershy does not notice, as she is on the way out with her usual sweet expression and tone.)
Fluttershy: Bye, girls!
(Outside, all the other would-be customers scatter as she exits and jumps off the step.)
Fluttershy: What a day! (waving) Taxi!
(She races off as Pinkie and Rarity emerge; the former no longer wears the bowl. A taxi carriage pulls up, its design and driver outfitted as the one seen in “Sisterhooves Social.” Fluttershy gallops over, but before she can jump aboard, a gray earth pony stallion beats her to it and ruins her mood.)
Fluttershy: Oh, no, you don’t. “Cut in line, I’ll take what’s mine!”
(She hops on and instantly starts brawling with him.)
Passenger stallion: Hey!
(Cut to Pinkie and Rarity, watching dumbstruck and inclining their heads to mark his trajectory.)
Passenger stallion: (from o.s.) Heeeeyyyy!
(He crashes to the flagstones in front of the step.)
Passenger stallion: (weakly) Owww… (Close-up of Fluttershy on board.)
Fluttershy: Nopony pushes New Fluttershy around! (Zoom out.) NOPONY!!
(The camera shakes with the force of this word, and the driver stallion gallops off in a fright.)
Pinkie: Old Pinkie Pie’s not so sure New Fluttershy is such a good idea after all.
Rarity: Old Rarity agrees.
(Snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to Fluttershy at her mirror inside the cottage. The animal tenants cut her a very wide berth.)
Fluttershy: (fiercely) You got this, New Fluttershy! This day is yours, and nopony’s gonna take it away from you! (leaning to a few animals) Am I RIGHT?
(That last word hits the group hard enough to send them over in a dead faint. Cut to outside the front door as she kicks it open and emerges.)
Fluttershy: Right!
(Stopping at the mailbox, she pulls out the contents and runs a disgusted eye over them.)
Fluttershy: What?!? He’s delivered the wrong mail, again!
(“He” turns out to be a gray earth pony stallion in a postman’s blue uniform, with saddlebags slung up; white mane/tail, thick glasses obscuring squinty eyes. Standing at a different mailbox, he retrieves a stack of letters from his bag—and proceeds to try and stuff them into a nearby birdhouse. As the correspondence drifts to the ground, an irate yellow pegasus inserts herself between the mail carrier and the ersatz receptacle. He gets off a panicked little yelp; she starts to back him up.)
Fluttershy: And New Fluttershy does not want the wrong mail delivered to her cottage!
Mail stallion: Oh! Did I mix ’em up again? (He pulls a letter from the bag with his teeth.) Sorry about that.
(Now she leans in so fast that the glasses go flying off, revealing scared light blue eyes.)
Fluttershy: “You apologize, I penalize!”
(Now plenty frightened, he races ahead and o.s.; a crash and groan drift back, along with a few letters, and she holds up a stamp on one hoof. A longer shot reveals that he has run flat into the mailbox, wedging himself partially inside and knocking himself out. She slaps the stamp on his protruding rump and snatches the letter from his mouth with her own. In less time than it takes to say “Acme Corporation Special Delivery,” a second postal employee pulling a cart whisks into view in front of the box and peels out. The offending stallion is now gone from sight, having presumably been picked up for shipment to parts unknown.)
(Fluttershy walks placidly along the road, letter in teeth, as a khaki earth pony stallion with a short, unruly two-tone brown mane/tail passes her going the other way. Blue eyes, thick brown mustache/brows, leaf-print sweater over a white shirt, red sun visor, guidebook in hoof, generally bewildered expression—definitely not from around these parts. Fluttershy approaches a puddle.)
Tourist stallion: (galloping over to her) Excuse me, do you know how to get to the Ponyville Tower?
(His approach exposes a camera slung around his neck. Close-up of her on the end of this line, letter still in teeth.)
Fluttershy: Sure! You just—
(She cuts herself off once it drops loose and lands in the water; a sharp gasp, and “New Fluttershy” gets ready to throw down all over again in close-up.)
Tourist stallion: (from o.s.) Awww… (Cut to frame both; Pinkie and Rarity come up over a hill.) …that’s a shame.
(Her rising growl is followed by a close-up of the two incredulous new arrivals as they stop.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) “You make me lose…” (Cut to frame all four.) “…I blow my fuse!” (She grabs the camera in her teeth and pulls.)
Tourist stallion: Hey!
(Slinging him around herself as if warming up for a hammer throw, she lets fly toward the town’s clock tower. He lands in a haystack, while the camera comes loose and smacks into the bell; she smiles tranquilly at the sight as Pinkie and Rarity step up.)
Rarity: Fluttershy, what are you doing? (Fluttershy’s face hardens.) That’s no way to behave!
Fluttershy: Didn’t you see what he did to New Fluttershy? (turning to them) And he thought New Fluttershy was a pushover!
Rarity: (calmly, but reprovingly) No, sweetie, he didn’t. We saw the whole thing. (Fluttershy hovers in their faces.) We think that you’ve taken your assertiveness training a little too far.
Fluttershy: (needled) What? You just want New Fluttershy to be a doormat like Old Fluttershy—but Old Fluttershy is GONE!
Pinkie: (really confused) New Fluttershy? Old Fluttershy?
Rarity: What happened to Nice Fluttershy? We want that Fluttershy back.
Fluttershy: (flying around them) No! You want Wimp Fluttershy! You want Pushover Fluttershy! You want “do anything to her and she won’t complain” Fluttershy!
(Pinkie has kept turning her head to maintain eye contact with the ranting pegasus, leaving her neck twisted through at least one and a half circles. The head finally snaps back into its normal position as the mouth lets off a yelp and the eyes start jittering in their sockets.)
Pinkie: Too many Fluttershys to keep track of! (hooves to head) Make it stop!
Fluttershy: (tapping Pinkie’s forehead, shoving her back) Things getting too complicated for your simple little brain, Pinkie Pie? (Rarity ducks in to catch her.)
Rarity: Now stop right there! Let’s not let things descend into petty insults.
Fluttershy: Why not? I thought petty was what you’re all about, Rarity— (Extreme close-up.) —with your petty concerns about fashion!
(The elegant unicorn loses her composure with a gasp and an upwelling of tears. She turns away and covers her eyes with a foreleg as Pinkie rushes in to pick up the slack, standing on her hind legs to get closer to Fluttershy’s eye level.)
Pinkie: Hey, leave her alone! Fashion is her passion!
Fluttershy: Oh, and what are you passionate about? Birthday cake? Party hats? (She backs away and o.s.; Pinkie sinks sadly out of frame.) I can’t believe that the two most frivolous ponies in Ponyville— (Cut to her.) —are trying to tell New Fluttershy how to live her life—
(Back to Pinkie and Rarity, now both tearing up and trying not to lose it altogether.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) —when they are throwing their own lives away on pointless pursuits that nopony else gives a flying feather about!
(The earth pony’s fluffy pink forelock sags a bit on the end of this, as if telegraphing the danger that the whole mane and tail will deflate as they did in “Party of One.” How and why they fail to do so is a genuine mystery; both mares sob a bit on the start of their respective lines.)
Pinkie: Looks like Nasty Fluttershy is here to stay!
Rarity: I cannot believe what that monster Iron Will has done to you!
(So much for trying to keep their cool; they gallop off, wailing.)
Fluttershy: (calling after them) Iron Will’s not a monster! HE’S A MINOTAUR!!
(The raw intensity of this outburst ranks only a notch or two below her Grand Galloping Gala meltdown in “The Best Night Ever.” Now she settles to the ground, front hooves splashing in the puddle where she dropped her letter, and huffs furiously above gritted teeth. A close-up of the water frames her reflection—distorted by both the rippling surface and her own half-crazed expression. After a long moment, the latter gives way to a look of wide-eyed shock; said eyes fill with tears as the water settles down and she voices a crushed little whimper. She hangs her head, allowing a couple of tears to drop into the puddle, and the full weight of her personality change hits her like an anvil and piano to the head.)
Fluttershy: (normal tone) I’m the monster.
(Dissolve to the exterior of her cottage as she trudges slowly toward the front door. A second dissolve shows it open and Fluttershy entering under a violet sky at sunset, and a third one shows the door and all windows boarded up. The various animal shelters have been sealed off as well, the sky is now a gloomy dark gray, and a bitter wind blows through the area, having already stripped the trees bare. One birdhouse falls from its branch as a wolf howls plaintively and Pinkie and Rarity venture up; the latter knocks once they are at the door.)
Rarity: (clearing throat) Fluttershy, are you in there?
Pinkie: It’s Pinkie Pie and Rarity!
Fluttershy: (from inside, through door) Go away! Go away before Nasty Fluttershy strikes again!
Rarity: Oh, sweetie, we all said things that we regret.
Pinkie: We did? (Rarity claps a hoof over her mouth.)
Rarity: Shhh!
Fluttershy: (from inside, through door) Pinkie’s right. I’m the only one to blame!
(Cut to inside, an overhead view; she sits alone, tied to a chair by the fireplace/stove. The only light comes from a few openings in the boarded windows.)
Fluttershy: But don’t worry. I’m never coming out of my house again!
(The camera cuts to ground level and frames Angel securing the ropes. He has shed the napkin he had tied around his neck in preparation for his salad meal in Act One.)
Fluttershy: Everypony will be a lot safer with me and my mean mouth locked away!
Rarity: (from outside, through door) Sweetie… (Cut to her and Pinkie.) …Pinkie Pie doesn’t blame you, nor do I. You just received some bad advice from that Iron Will character.
Pinkie: Yeah! He’s the one that made you act super-duper-nasty! (Rarity socks her in the chest.) What I mean is, there are other ways to assert yourself besides yelling at everypony.
Rarity: Yes!
(Close-up of Fluttershy’s downcast face, the camera panning slightly to frame the barricaded door and re-focusing on it.)
Rarity: (from outside, through door) You can stand up for yourself without being unpleasant about it. (Focus back to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: Uh…I’m not sure I can.
(Cut to just behind her; she is facing her mirror, with the now-shredded remains of her Iron pamphlets still taped up on either side.)
Fluttershy: I’m too far gone. Whenever I try to assert myself, I become a monster.
(A lightning strike picks out the upper piece of one flyer, which shows only Iron’s horns and is positioned to cover the top of her reflection’s head. She starts in fright before the camera cuts to outside again.)
Rarity: Oh, sweetie, you’re not a monster.
Pinkie: (pointing down the front walk) No, but he is.
(Iron, that is—standing atop Gray’s back on the bridge over the brook, with White nearby. He jumps down as the two mares confront him.)
Iron: (giving thumbs-up to camera) Iron Will’s my name, training ponies is my game.
(This gesture causes Pinkie and Rarity to throw a properly bewildered glance at the camera.)
Rarity: What a darling little catchphrase!
Iron: Your friend Fluttershy loved Iron Will’s catchphrases. (getting them both in headlocks) Word on the street is that she doesn’t take no guff from nopony. (letting go, walking past) So, Iron Will is here to collect Iron Will’s fee.
Pinkie: (to Rarity) Fluttershy’s in no shape to deal with that creep!
(This is Rarity’s cue to gallop after the creep in question.)
Rarity: (forcing a laugh) I’m sure a big, brave, powerful, and rich monster—I mean, minotaur—like you— (Both stop.) —doesn’t need that money right away. You can afford to come back later.
Iron: Are you kidding? Fluttershy is overdue as it is. (They have reached her door.) Iron Will collects now!
(On the end of this, decorum and chivalry get a boot to the head when he picks her up by the head and drops her bodily over the fence. She winds up in a bush near the brook, spitting out leaves as Pinkie gets an eyeful.)
Rarity: Do something!
(Pinkie turns to Iron, who starts tearing the boards loose, and plants herself in his way.)
Pinkie: We’re not even sure Fluttershy’s home right now. (He picks her up, mistaking her for a board.) Uh, she might be off frolicking with some woodland creatures, uh…why don’t you give us some time to track her down for you?
Iron: (dropping her, pulling out a sheet) Iron Will does have some grocery shopping to do. (He whips out a small basket and starts off as Rarity climbs up.) Iron Will will come back this afternoon.
Pinkie: But that’s only half a day! (He stops.) We need one full day at least.
Iron: Iron Will will delay for half a day and no longer!
Pinkie: A full day!
Iron: Half day!
Pinkie: Full day!
Iron: Half day!
Pinkie: Half day!
Iron: Full day!
Pinkie: (stretching neck upward to stare him in the face) We need half a day and no more! (Her body snaps up; Iron grabs her tail.)
Iron: Well, you’ll get a full day and no less!
(She turns around brightly and walks away in midair, stretching the arm attached to the hand holding her tail.)
Pinkie: Okey-dokey. See you tomorrow. (He lowers her to the ground, confused.)
Iron: Wait, what?
(A tiny little sneeze is heard through the door; Iron walks back up to it.)
Iron: Huh. Sounds like the search won’t be necessary. (Pinkie gasps.) Iron Will collects now!
Pinkie: Uh…but…w-w-we had an agreement! (She climbs up on his chest.) You gotta come back tomorrow!
Iron: When somepony tries to block, show them that you rock!
(She gets thrown over the fence with a scream and splashes into the brook. Rarity cries out in surprise as the mud-streaked mare spits out a mouthful. Looking toward her own hindquarters, Pinkie finds White chewing on her tail, having apparently mistaken it for cotton candy. Up at the door, the minotaur rips the rest of the boards away.)
Iron: Your payment is overdue, Fluttershy!
(He draws back one meaty arm, tenses for a punch that will surely reduce the door to splinters—and then knocks gently instead. The door opens as Rarity gallops up to help however she can, and Fluttershy—now untied from the chair—steps out. Her creditor stands up to full height and huffs impatiently down at her, spooking Pinkie and Rarity but good. White is no longer chewing Pinkie’s tail.)
Iron: You were nothing but a doormat— (striking poses) —and Iron Will turned you into a lean, mean, assertive machine! (He hits the last pose again, then gets back in her face.) Now, pay Iron Will what you owe Iron Will!
Fluttershy: Um…no.
(Pinkie and Rarity are so completely shocked by this declaration that the former topples over on her side, as if petrified from mane to tail. White and Gray cannot believe their ears either, and Gray utters a puzzled bleat as White munches on his tie.)
Iron: What did you say?
Fluttershy: No.
Iron: Oooooh! (limbering up against the fence) I’d hate to be you right now—because Iron Will is gonna rain down a world of hurt unless Iron Will gets his money, PRONTO!!
(During this line, the camera cuts briefly to a horrified Pinkie and Rarity, the former upright after her fainting spell and all cleaned up, then back to Iron. He finishes by leaning against the fence, stretching it backwards as if it were a rope at the edge of a wrestling ring, and catapulting forward to bellow the last word directly into her ear.)
(A huff of steam from the ringed nostrils drops her out of sight, but a moment later she is back up and calmly pacing the front walk.)
Fluttershy: As I recall, during your workshop you promised one hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed, or “you pay nothing.” Well, I’m not satisfied.
Iron: What do you mean, you’re not satisfied?! Everypony has always been satisfied!
Fluttershy: Well, I guess I’m the first, then. (moving toward him) But since I’m not satisfied, I refuse to pay. It’s as simple as that.
(Neither of the other two ponies can find her power of speech, and Rarity has to close Pinkie’s mouth to keep her jaw from scraping the ground. Iron, meanwhile, stares incredulously at Fluttershy as White and Gray peek out over his shoulders. One quick goat/minotaur huddle later, he straightens up with a resigned grunt.)
Iron: (hastily, nervously) Are you…sure you’re not just a little bit satisfied? (adjusting tie) Uh…uh, because maybe we could…cut a deal. I-I mean, we’re both reasonable creatures, aren’t we?
Fluttershy: (firmly) I’m sorry, but no means no.
Iron: No means no, huh? (He climbs on Gray’s back.) Nopony’s ever said that to me before. (Gray carries him away.) Huh…I gotta remember that one. (White hands him his grocery basket.) That’s a good catchphrase for my next workshop.
(Pinkie and Rarity gallop up to Fluttershy.)
Pinkie: You were amazing, Fluttershy! (They hug her.) You totally stood up to that monster!
Rarity: In fact, you didn’t change at all! You were the same old Fluttershy that we’ve always loved.
Pinkie: The one we missed!
Fluttershy: Don’t worry. Old Fluttershy’s back for good. I’m sorry I took the whole assertiveness thing too far. Friends? (She gets a pair of teary smiles.)
Pinkie, Rarity: Friends!
(All three laugh as the camera zooms out slowly.)
Fluttershy: (voice over, dictating) “Dear Princess Celestia…”
(Dissolve to a close-up of a bowl of animal feed on the cottage floor and zoom out. Normal light has been restored, and two squirrels eagerly chow down.)
Fluttershy: (voice over) “Sometimes it can be hard for a shy pony like me to stand up for myself.”
(Overhead view of her in the center of the room on the end of this. The place is back to normal, and many other critters are enjoying their lunch as well. She looks worriedly off to one side.)
Fluttershy: (voice over) “And when I first tried it…” (Angel pushes his bowl of salad away.) “…I didn’t like the pony I became.” (She glares down at him; he stomps petulantly.) “But I’ve learned that standing up for yourself isn’t the same as changing who you are.”
(A short dose of her title ability exhibited in “Stare Master” cows the recalcitrant rabbit; he unwillingly pulls a cucumber slice from the bowl.)
Fluttershy: (voice over) “Now I know how to put my hoof down without being unpleasant or mean.”
(He takes a nibble, fully expecting the vegetable to instantly strike him dead. It not only fails to do so, but seems to agree quite well with him; he proceeds to gobble down the rest of the salad. Fluttershy smiles gently as the camera zooms out slightly and the view fades to black.)
IT’S ABOUT TIME
Written by M.A. Larson
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a pastel-tinted landscape during the day. Spike walks into view—smiling, out of breath, and leading Rarity along.)
Spike: I made it for you, Rarity. (Cut to just behind them as they stop on a rise.) Why, yes.
(On the start of the next line, tilt up to frame a small house standing at the end of a path. The walls are made of ice cream scoops, the candy roof is lined with gumdrops, and scoops and upended cones stand on either side of the path as landscaping.)
Spike: It is an ice cream house. (Close-up; zoom in.) Chocolate fudge shingles…rocky-road garage…
(The sound of clopping hooves begins to make itself heard on the end of this line; once the camera has reached an extreme close-up, his eyes pop wide open. Zoom out quickly to frame him lying in his basket next to Twilight Sparkle’s bed, in the loft of their shared quarters on the library’s upper story. His rest—and his dream—having been suitably disturbed, he sits up; the clopping continues.)
Spike: Huh?
(Cut to the reading room as he descends the stairs, rubbing his eyes. The violet unicorn is pacing down here.)
Spike: Twilight?
Twilight: Oh. Hi, Spike. (He gestures out the window; night sky, full moon.)
Spike: It’s the middle of the night! Why are you pacing like this?
(Overhead shot of the room. Books are stacked on the center table, with others lying around it on the floor. She is crossing the floor.)
Twilight: Frankly, I don’t know how you can sleep at a time like this. (He holds up a watch that shows…)
Spike: (testily) Three AM?
(He starts for the stairs, but Twilight teleports over to block his path.)
Twilight: It’s awful! It’s horrible! It’s tragic! (She trots away.)
Spike: Eh…I don’t understand. What’s wrong? (A desk calendar is levitated over to him.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Here. (Close-up of it, showing the date as the 4th.) Now do you see what’s wrong? (Back to him.)
Spike: (puzzled) We forgot to celebrate Arbor Day? (Cut to her, eyeing a book.)
Twilight: No. (magically flipping pages) The problem is, I just finished planning my schedule for the month— (levitating another one over, flipping its pages) —but I forgot to leave time to plan for next month!
(She zips away, then back to Spike; now a full-size calendar floats under her control and he drops the little one.)
Twilight: Don’t you see? (Close-up of it; she pushes it down o.s. to frame herself.) There’s no time in my schedule to put together another schedule! (crossing to stairs) I could move my meeting with the Ponyville Hay Board to the following Tuesday, but then I have to re-schedule my lunch with Pinkie Pie. And you know what a nightmare she is with scheduling.
(Overhead view of the two, the camera pointing down the stairs; Spike stumps up them.)
Twilight: This is an absolute disaster. My whole year could be thrown off!
Spike: (grumpily) And I woke up from an ice cream dream for this.
(His approaching face gradually fills the screen and causes the view to fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to a sunrise over Ponyville, seen from inside Twilight’s bedroom window. Once a rooster’s crow has sounded off, cut to her, hunched over a desk, and zoom in. Just as in the reading room, books are scattered all over the place; a close-up shows the fatigued bags that have settled in beneath her eyes. The insomniac unicorn is hard at work with quill, paper, and magic to jot down some notes, and she stops to run a surprised eye over the lot.)
Twilight: Oh my gosh. I think I did it! If I can find a way to read The Art of Invisibility Spells and Thornhoof’s Brief History of Canterlot at the same time, that could leave me a half-hour scheduling window!
(She is so engrossed in her planning that she does not notice the sudden wind gusts that toy with papers and book pages, as seen when the camera pans/cuts away from her for a moment during the previous. The line ends with a cut to floor level and tilt up from her tail as sparks begin to rain down around it. Only now does she notice the very freaky weather going on in her room.)
Twilight: Huh?
(She shields her face with a foreleg; now a white-glowing ball of energy takes form in the kitchen.)
Twilight: (backing away) What’s going on?
(The apparition grows to fill nearly half the floor, shrinks to a single point, and then bursts to fill the room with blinding radiance. Once the glare subsides enough for Twilight to lower her foreleg, she finds the last of the energy receding into itself. Now, lying among the freshly tumbled books and papers, is a unicorn whose coat, mane, and tail are colored identically to hers. Sparks crackle over the collapsed form, which is clad in a badly torn, dark gray bodysuit that covers everything but the head and tail. The latter is disheveled, the mane cut crazily short and standing up, and a band of white cloth is wrapped around the head. As this second pony begins to straighten up, the camera cuts to extreme close-ups of the head, the body in its ripped clothing—and a patch covering the right eye—and a small scar or wound under the left. Zoom out from this last shot to frame the weary unicorn, now clearly identifiable as a dead ringer for Twilight, as the sparks die away. The genuine article cries out in surprise, while the other straightens up, shakes her head clear, and addresses her with the same serious-minded voice.)
Future TS: Twilight… (galloping to Twilight) …you’ve got to listen to me!
Twilight: Who are you? I mean, you’re me, but I’m me too. How can there be two me’s? It’s not scientifically possible. (poking hoof into Future TS’s chest) You are not scientifically possible!
Future TS: Twilight, please! I have a very important message for you from the future!
Twilight: (excitedly) You’re from the future?
Future TS: (as Twilight paces behind her) That’s right, now listen.
Twilight: What happened to you? The future must be awful.
Future TS: Please! I don’t have much time!
Twilight: Is there some sort of epic pony war in the distant future or something? (Close-up of Future TS.)
Future TS: Actually, I’m from next Tuesday morning. But that’s not important right now! (Cut to frame both on the start of the next line.)
Twilight: I can’t believe time travel is really possible! How did you—I mean, I—figure it out?
Future TS: The time spells are in the Canterlot Archives. But that’s not—
Twilight: Really? Where? I’ve never seen them.
Future TS: They’re in the Starswirl the Bearded Wing. Now you have to listen to—
Twilight: Is time travel fun, or does it hurt? (Close-up.) I have so many questions— (Future TS shoves a hoof into her mouth; the sparks start flying again.)
Future TS: (from o.s.) I have something extremely important to tell you about the future!
(Cut to frame her on the end of this; the white energy begins to envelop her again, its hum gradually drowning out her voice.)
Future TS: And I only have a few seconds, so you’ve got to listen! Whatever you do, don’t—
(Before she can finish the warning, she vanishes with one last flash, leaving only a charred spot on the wooden floor.)
Twilight: Future Twilight?…Oh, no! What was she trying to warn me about? Her clothes, her mane, that scar! Oh, what a mess she is…I mean, I am…or I will be.
(Her eyes pop as she stifles a gasp; cut to the burned patch and zoom out as she eyes it.)
Twilight: She must want me to prevent whatever horrible thing happens in the future!
(Another bug-eyed gasp. Cut to a busy street and pan back to frame Pinkie Pie, a bunch of balloons tied around her midsection. The buoyancy is enough to lift her clear of the ground, but she is “walking” in midair and making forward progress.)
Pinkie: (looking back) Come on, Fluttershy! The party can’t start ’til the party supplies get there!
(Another pan brings the yellow pegasus into view—so weighed down by bags of supplies that she can only crawl along the road.)
Fluttershy: (between gasps) Happy to…help…but…can I carry… (standing up) …the balloons next time?
(She is immediately hit broadside by a violet/dark-blue streak, and both she and Twilight wind up sprawled out among a litter of candy, streamers, and noisemakers. A set of Groucho Marx joke glasses has ended up on Twilight’s face, but this does not stop her from darting away to balance on a post at one end of a bridge over the stream bordering Ponyville. As she speaks, zoom out to frame several locals gathered around.)
Twilight: Listen, everypony. I’ve got something really important to say!
(A round of laughs from the crowd; once Twilight figures out the reason for it, she disgustedly yanks off the glasses and throws them aside.)
Twilight: This is no laughing matter! We have a crisis on our hooves! (Crowd gasps; Applejack and Rarity walk up.) I’ve just been visited by myself from the future!
(General puzzlement, then another hearty laugh that rubs Twilight exactly the wrong way.)
Twilight: (jumping down) This isn’t a joke! My future self tried to warn me about a horrible disaster, that’s going to occur sometime before next Tuesday morning!
Applejack: What kinda disaster?
Twilight: I don’t know! I got sucked back into the future before I could explain!
Pinkie: (trying to “run” in midair) RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIIIIFE!! (Cut to Twilight on the end of this; Rarity gallops up to her.)
Rarity: Whatever should we do, Twilight? How do we stop the disaster if we don’t know what it is?
Twilight: We’ll just have to work together to make sure we’re safe. (addressing herself overhead) Rainbow Dash!
(Rainbow Dash flies into view and hovers overhead.)
Twilight: You and the other pegasi spread out over Equestria, and look for any kind of problem that could lead to a disaster—and I mean anything.
Rainbow: You got it! (She flies off; cut to the crowd.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Everypony else… (Pinkie “runs” and screams her way over to them, then stops.)
Pinkie: Anypony else want to panic with me? (Silence.) No?
(So she goes on her windmilling, high-decibel way.)
Twilight: Everypony else… (smiling determinedly) …time to disaster-proof Equestria!
(“Iris in” to the dam that burst during “The Mysterious Mare Do Well.” Applejack, Rarity, and a bucket of cement are lowered along its height on a suspended plank platform, and the farmer seals a crack with the help of a trowel in her teeth. She has been thoroughly spattered with cement, some of which Rarity scrubs away with a levitated handkerchief, and Twilight descends into view on a second platform. A checklist and quill float alongside under her control, and she marks off one item.)
(Wipe to the water tower that figured prominently in “Boast Busters” and “Secret of My Excess.” Its top has been removed, and it is being filled from a hose that has been run up into it. A close-up at the top reveals that Mrs. Cake is directing the flow; she gets a surprise when Twilight teleports up here, checks the level, and marks another box on her list.)
(Wipe to a close-up of a metal reinforcing plate covering a crack in a wooden post. Pinkie leans into view, wrench in teeth, and tightens one of the nuts holding it on; a longer shot frames a cable wrapped around her midsection to hold her in midair, taking the place of her earlier balloons. The post and several others like it stand in water. She finishes wrenching and smiles upward, and a still-longer shot tells the whole story: the post is one of the supports for a bridge over the Ponyville stream, and Big Macintosh has the free end of the cable in his teeth. Twilight walks up to him, checklist at the ready; in close-up, he opens his mouth and lets go of the cable.)
Macintosh: Ee-yup.
(A splash from below o.s. leads to a sheepish grin from her and a look of pop-eyed surprise from him. Wipe to a close-up of some dirt on the ground; a cloth held in a light yellow hoof is applied to this until the spot gleams, and the camera zooms out. The Cutie Mark Crusaders stand on a sidewalk, Apple Bloom having policed up the area, and Twilight marks off an item and trots away.)
(Wipe to a rather drained-looking Spike, applying a paintbrush to one wall in the library’s reading room. The unicorn watches him work for a moment before ticking another box. Another wipe frames a close-up of Pinkie in the Carousel Boutique. A bit of magic stretches out her forelock and brings a pair of scissors over to snip an errant strand; once it snaps back, a longer shot frames Twilight and Rarity in the main changing room. Pinkie sits on her haunches in one of the chairs, a barber’s neck cloth wrapped around her, and Rarity has donned a smock whose pockets are filled with styling implements to do this touch-up. The earth pony grins and waves to Twilight, who checks yet one more box.)
(Wipe to the fully unfurled checklist, which stretches several yards along a street, and pan back to frame Twilight and Fluttershy looking at it on the start of the next line.)
Twilight: (marking an item) Done, and done, and done.
(Applejack and Rarity walk up. The former no longer has any splotches of cement on her, but does have a few leaves caught in her mane and tail; Rarity magically picks these off, having put away her smock.)
Twilight: Applejack, what about the Everfree Forest?
Applejack: The perimeter’s clear. (Rainbow and two other pegasi hover overhead.)
Twilight: Great.
Rainbow: And my team gave the all-clear from Fillydelphia to Las Pegasus.
Twilight: (marking) Excellent. Well, we’ve done everything on the list. (worried) But still…Future Twilight looked like she’d been through a horrible ordeal. (rolling/tucking list away, trotting off) I just have this nagging feeling we should be looking for something bigger than loose bolts and leaky pipes.
(A deafening roar brings her back to the scene, pronto, and the source—a colossal, three-headed black bulldog—leaps into view from behind the joke shop. Studded collars are fastened around all three necks, and six beady red eyes with yellowed whites glare at the crowd. After a second roar, Pinkie trots into view, having disposed of her neck cloth.)
Pinkie: (pointing) Okay, everypony, follow my lead!
(Her eardrum-shredding scream and Olympic-speed dash prompt all the other onlookers to do the same and take cover wherever they can find it. Cut to Spike as he runs up.)
Spike: What is that thing? (Zoom out; Twilight steps up next to him.)
Twilight: That’s Cerberus! He’s supposed to be guarding the gates of Tartarus!
[Note: Tartarus is a realm in Greek mythology. It served as a prison for beings who posed a real danger to the gods, and also as a place of punishment for those who committed particularly evil acts.]
(Back to Cerberus, whose mouths are now eagerly sucking at the fruit ornaments mounted on the roof of a nearby ice cream shop.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) But if he’s here, then all the ancient evil creatures that have been imprisoned there can escape and destroy Equestria!
(Cut to her and Spike on the second half of this line; she smiles knowingly as she finishes.)
Spike: Destroy Equestria?
Twilight: Yeah! Isn’t it great?
(The next shot frames the black behemoth, lifting a hind leg in preparation to relieve himself on the ice cream shop—there being no fire hydrants within sight.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Hey, Cerberus! You look like you could use some obedience training! (Back to her; horn warms up.) Magic obedience training!
(He takes a step toward her and unleashes a triple full-force roar; back to Twilight, tongue clamped in teeth and ready to let fly. Instead, she cools down and lets her eyes pop in surprise.)
Twilight: Huh?
(Now Cerberus lies on his back, panting happily and letting his hind legs piston in the air. Fluttershy has moved in to rub his belly.)
Fluttershy: Who’s the cute wittle three-headed dog? (Twilight walks up.)
Twilight: Wow. I knew you were good with animals, but this is amazing!
Fluttershy: Aw, he’s just a big furry guy who got out of his yard, that’s all. Right, Cerberus? Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?
(Zoom out slightly as Pinkie’s latest scream rips the air and she gallops past.)
Twilight: Pinkie! (She ducks back into view, now calm.)
Pinkie: Yes, Twilight?
Twilight: Do you have a ball I can borrow?
(The party organizer whips over to a tree and shoves a front hoof into a large knothole.)
Pinkie: I have balls stashed all over Ponyville… (She fishes one out.) …in case of ball emergency. (She returns; Twilight floats it up.)
Twilight: (singsong) Hey, Cerberus!
(Cut to across the way; all three heads pop up and the toy is levitated above them.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Look what I have!
(A bit of bob-and-weave gets their eager attention, and she gallops off, floating the ball ahead of herself to lead the massive canine along.)
Twilight: I’ll be back as soon as I’ve returned him to the gates of Tartarus. Once he’s back at home, there’ll be no disaster.
(Pinkie and Spike smile at each other. Dissolve to a Ponyville sunrise, seen from Twilight’s bedroom window, as a rooster sounds off—a new day has come. Tilt down to frame a drowsy, freshly awake Spike in his basket by her empty bed; he sits up with a yawn and stretch.)
Spike: I wish Twilight would go on epic adventures more often. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in weeks.
(The front door is heard opening and closing. Down in the reading room, the unicorn librarian walks in, her mane/tail in disarray and her coat muddy and scuffed. Spike crosses to her.)
Spike: Hey, Twilight. How’d it go with Cerberus?
Twilight: Great. I got him back before any of the evil creatures could escape.
(Instead of smiling, the baby dragon begins to retch and his cheeks bulge out; this quickly turns into a blast of fire that solidifies into a scroll. It bounces off her face; she yelps and touches a hoof to the spot with sudden worry.)
Twilight: Oh, no!
(She races off; Spike reads it, rolls it up, and walks after her.)
Spike: What’s the big deal? It’s just a “lost dog” flyer.
(He reaches Twilight, who has stopped by the stairs and is goggling at her reflection in a handy full-length mirror.)
Spike: I guess the Princess hasn’t heard we found Cerberus yet.
Twilight: It’s not that… (Close-up; she turns to him.) …it’s this!
(One hoof points out a small, fresh wound under her left eye.)
Spike: (dryly) A paper cut? Come on, Twilight, you really need to toughen up. (walking away) Just clean it out and you’ll be fine. (Close-up of her reflection.)
Twilight: The cut’s in the exact same spot as the scar on Future Twilight’s cheek! We haven’t changed the future at all! (Extreme close-up of her quivering eyes.) The disaster is still coming!
(They pop wide on the end of this, and the view snaps to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: a patch of library floor. Her pacing shadow casts itself into view.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) If the disaster wasn’t caused by Cerberus getting loose, then what could it possibly be?
(Tilt up to frame Spike at one wall; he stifles a laugh.)
Spike: I don’t know, but maybe you oughta give the pacing a rest.
(Cut to frame the two, in the reading room. She is going around the center table as in the prologue, but now the floor has a circular groove worn into it as deep as her knees/hocks. She has cleaned herself up after the trek to get Cerberus home.)
Spike: You’ve worn a groove into the floor!
Twilight: (stopping briefly, then resuming) I don’t have time for another one of your lectures, Spike! This is serious!
Spike: (puzzled) My lectures?
Twilight: I did everything I could think of to change the future, but it didn’t work. So maybe it’s not what I do… (Stop.) …maybe it’s what I don’t do! (She teleports out of the rut…)
Spike: Huh? (…and over next to the wall.)
Twilight: If I stand right here and don’t move a muscle until next Tuesday, I can’t possibly do whatever it is that Future Twilight wanted to warn me not to do!
(Every inch of the violet body goes rigid; close-up of the impassive face.)
Spike: (from o.s.) Really? (Longer shot; he circles to stop behind her.) So…no matter what happens, you’re not gonna move a muscle, huh?
(A cocky little smirk has settled onto his face by the end of this.)
Spike: Then maybe you won’t mind if I… (He darts away and returns with a carton of ice cream.) …eat an entire tub of ice cream!
(The purple eyes swivel back in his direction for a split second, then aim themselves straight ahead again as Spike starts to dig in. Sweat trickles down Twilight’s frozen face; Spike holds his spoon tauntingly out toward her, then gobbles its load.)
Spike: (mouth full) Mmm!
(Swallow; satisfied grunt; extreme close-up of the unicorn’s streaming face.)
Spike: (from o.s.) So good! (She growls softly; cut to frame both.)
Twilight: (through teeth, sighing angrily) Spike, stop! Think of the stomachache!
Spike: (laughing) Stomachache, huh? That’s Future Spike’s problem.
(Another gulp, and he leans contentedly against her flank. A knock at the door startles her; Rainbow lets herself in.)
Rainbow: Hey, Twilight! Another pegasus just got back from Baltimare with an all-clear and—
(She stops short upon finding the equine statue and the scaly, four-legged garbage disposal, then files over with a snicker.)
Rainbow: What’s going on? (to Twilight) Aren’t you gonna stop him?
Spike: She sure isn’t. (Close-up of the scrunched violet face; he continues o.s.) In fact, she’s not gonna move ’til next Tuesday! (Back to him and Rainbow.) She thinks it’ll prevent the disaster from happening!
Rainbow: (chuckling) Oh, this is too rich. (suddenly scared, pointing ahead with a gasp) Hey, Twilight! There’s a mouse right behind you!
(Twilight flinches in place, her bottom lip caught in her teeth, and Rainbow and Spike have a good belly laugh over this prank. He grabs a quill off a desk.)
Spike: Wait! Wait, wait! Let me try!
(The non-business end is applied to every part of her body he can reach, causing her cheeks to bulge with suppressed laughter for several seconds. When she has had more than enough of this tickle-torture idiocy, she magically slings him into the wall, back first; the hit knocks a flaming belch out of him that rockets toward her head. The screen flares greenish-white on impact, then clears to show the half-dazed dragon collapsed against the wall. Zoom out to frame Rainbow standing alongside; all four eyes pop in shock.)
Rainbow: Oh, no! (Spike stands up.)
Twilight: (from o.s., icily) What happened?
Spike: I’m so sorry! (Embarrassed grin from Rainbow.) I didn’t mean to! It was a total accident! (Extreme close-up of Twilight.)
Twilight: Show me.
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Uh… (Cut to her, hovering near the ceiling.) I’m not so sure that’s a—
Twilight: Show me!
(Realizing that there is nothing for it, Spike picks up a hand mirror and carries it at arm’s length as if it were a live grenade. When Twilight’s reflection comes into view, most of her mane has been burned off and the remnants left standing haphazardly on her head and neck. A few wisps of smoke rise from her tail and what hair she has left up top.)
Twilight: Oh, no! This is the same mane cut as Future Twilight!
(She turns away, showing that her tail is in the same mess as her later counterpart.)
Rainbow: You know, it really doesn’t look too bad.
Twilight: I don’t care how it looks! It’s just another sign that the future hasn’t changed! (pacing) Not doing anything didn’t work, either! Oh, I wish there was a way to know what was going to happen so I could stop it!
Spike: You want to see the future? (knowingly) I might know somepony who can help.
(Wipe to the unicorn and dragon as they approach a deep purple tent trimmed in gold, with an awning flap extended over the entrance. A steaming caldron, a lit candle, and a sign board depicting a crystal ball, star, and horseshoe are set up on either side; the entire affair sits at the end of a street.)
Twilight: What’s this?
Spike: It’s Madame Pinkie’s place.
Twilight: (puzzled) Madame Pinkie?
(Cut to just inside the curtained entrance; Spike pushes his way in, followed by Twilight. Pinkie’s voice is heard from within, doing an exaggerated gypsy/fortune-teller impression.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Come! Enter the chamber of Madame Pinkie Pie!
(Extreme close-up of a glowing crystal ball on a table; she is visible, seated behind it, and the pair’s reflections move into view on its surface. As Pinkie speaks, the camera slowly tilts up to frame her front hooves gliding over it, as well as the jeweled purple turban covering most of her mane. A crescent-moon earring hangs from one ear.)
Pinkie: For the answers you seek, let us consult the Mystical Orb of Fate’s Destiny!
(Cut to frame the entire interior; the two mares haunch-sit on cushions, facing each other across the table, and Spike sits on his own cushion next to Twilight. Behind Pinkie, various knickknacks are set up and hung about: beads, horseshoe, dreamcatcher, shelves with books and bottles, trunk, oil lamp, among others. When she lowers her hooves, a purple scarf with gold fringe is seen wrapped around her neck, and the turban bears a long blue feather. She continues in her normal cheerful voice.)
Pinkie: Do you like my Mystical Orb of Fate’s Destiny? I just got it. Cool, huh?
Twilight: (unconvincingly) Yeah, uh…best one I’ve seen.
Pinkie: (gypsy mode) Look deep into the crystal ball… (leaning to peer across through it; zoom in slowly) …for soon it will reveal all! (Longer shot.) Ah, yes. I see something. It is a vision of the future. I see… (pointing) …you, Twilight!
(Cut to Twilight and zoom in slowly as her pupils grow saucer-wide with disbelief.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) You will get… (Back to her.) …a really cool birthday present next year!
Twilight: (eagerly) Yes, and?
Pinkie: (normal tone) That’s it.
Twilight: Are you sure? (Pinkie leans back.)
Pinkie: Yep. Cool birthday present.
Twilight: (irritated) Pinkie, I need your Pinkie Sense to tell me what the impending disaster is that Future Twilight was trying to warn me about!
(During the previous line, the camera cuts briefly to the nonchalant amateur fortune-teller and back to Twilight’s side of the table.)
Pinkie: (smiling, as Spike walks to her) Oh, my fortune-telling has nothing to do with my Pinkie Sense, silly. It’s only good for vague and immediate events.
(And it chooses to sound off right about now, causing her tail to jitter so hard that she lifts clear of her cushion for a moment. The falling-object warning instantly comes true when a flowerpot drops from nowhere onto Twilight’s head; close-up.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Like that. See? (Back to her and Spike.) Where did that even come from?
(Dissolve to the exterior of the library, now seen under the late-afternoon sky. Pinkie hops merrily into view, singing to herself and out of her gypsy garb, and makes her way toward the front door.)
Pinkie: (slowing to a walk) Gosh, I haven’t seen Twilight since the flowerpot incident. Hope she still isn’t mad.
(Cut to the top of the stairs, just inside the entrance to Twilight’s living quarters, as the happy pink pony climbs up. She stops in her tracks, total confusion spray-painting itself across the big blue eyes.)
Pinkie: Uhhhh…
(A shot of the entire area frames the cause of her bafflement on the end of this. Huge telescopes have been set up at the windows, other pieces of equipment stand around the floor, and notes and graphs are stacked/displayed/scattered across nearly every square inch of remaining space. Twilight darts to one telescope—the remains of the flowerpot gone from her head, dark circles under her eyes, and a fresh white bandage wrapped around her head. Spike, meanwhile, sits on the stairs leading to the loft and eats ice cream, paying no mind to his friend or her half-crazed tone of voice.)
Twilight: Off by point-zero-two from yesterday. (She races to a graph.) Carry the fifteen… (Take notes.) …negative azimuth on the fourteenth moon… (Rush here and there.)
Spike: (mouth full) Hey, Pinkie.
Pinkie: Twilight’s really serious about finding out about that cool birthday present, isn’t she?
Spike: Who cares? As long as I can keep eating ice cream. Sorry, Future Spike.
(He chomps down another spoonful; now Pinkie eases over as Twilight scribbles more notes.)
Pinkie: Are you okay? (Twilight floats her quill down.)
Twilight: Ah, Pinkie. I’m glad you’re here. (pulling her up to a scope) Can you help me recalibrate the apertures on the nine-and-quarter catadioptric telescopes?
Pinkie: Sure! (Twilight ducks out of view.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) So I was thinking…after I came to see Madame Pinkie— (Back to her.) —and the flowerpot landed on my head—see the bandage? Just like the bandage from the future.
Pinkie: Nice!
Twilight: (crossing to a graph) I had an epiphany after that flowerpot. Doing things didn’t work. Not doing things didn’t work. And I couldn’t predict the future either. So I only had one other choice. (She zips away; extreme close-up.) Monitor everything.
(This last word is accompanied by a lean toward the camera, close enough to fully expose the bloodshot whites of her eyes. A different angle shows that she is now nose to nose with a rather unsettled Pinkie.)
Pinkie: Makes sense to me. (Nervous grin; Twilight darts back to a scope.)
Twilight: (peering through eyepiece) That way, no matter what happens in the future, I’ll be ready.
(Pan/tilt up to a close-up of the lens at the other end, through which her eye is greatly magnified, on the start of the next line. If she sounded half-crazed before, her voice now begins to suggest that her mind is one good shove away from vacating her skull for good.)
Twilight: I thought I saw something last night in the Horsehead Nebula. (now o.s.) But after staring at it for three straight hours— (Cut to her; she trots away.) —I realized I was wrong.
Pinkie: Three hours? But when did you sleep? (Twilight plots with map and compass.)
Twilight: Oh, I didn’t sleep. I haven’t slept since Future Twilight was here. (ducking to take notes at floor level) There are only three days left until next Tuesday. I can sleep all I want after that! (Cut to Spike, opening a new tub of ice cream.)
Spike: You’ve been awake too long, Twilight. (He eats; pan to Pinkie.)
Pinkie: Yeah. Tuesday’s not three days from now, Tuesday’s tomorrow!
(Zoom out to frame Twilight, who gasps and teleports up to a window telescope.)
Twilight: (looking through eyepiece) Pinkie, did you finish recalibrating the apertures on the nine-and-quarter-inch catadioptric telescopes? (Cut to Pinkie on the second half of this line.)
Pinkie: (cheerfully) I have no idea.
(The paranoid unicorn adjusts the angle a bit, and the view cuts to her perspective through the lens as the instrument swings upward. Once it reaches the sun, the rays blaze up and fill the screen with their blinding white aura. Cut back to her, a hoof clapped over her stinging, watering right eye.)
Twilight: Ow! My eye!
(The negligent telescope adjuster races over to the kitchen fireplace and roots around in it.)
Pinkie: Don’t worry, Twilight. I have eyepatches stashed all over Ponyville, in case of eyepatch emergency.
(Cut back to Twilight during this line; Pinkie zips to her, ties one in place, and darts away again.)
Pinkie: (now o.s.) There! Now you look like a pirate…
(Zoom out on the end of this to frame her pushing a full-length mirror over to Twilight.)
Pinkie: …a sleepy pirate with a really weird mane cut.
(Close-up of the glass on the end of this; she gets it placed just so to catch Twilight’s reflection. The exposed purple eye contracts almost to a point.)
Twilight: (softly, horrified) The eyepatch… (Gasp.) …another sign!
(She gallops away; cut to her, levitating a sheet out of a scatter of books, and zoom out slightly.)
Twilight: Nearly all the signs have come true! (Zoom out again; she throws materials everywhere.) I haven’t done a thing to prevent the catastrophe! (Gallop to a board chalked with equations.) If Tuesday’s tomorrow, and the disaster happens by Tuesday morning, then there’s only one solution!
(On the end of this, zoom in to an extreme close-up of a large question mark at one end of the board.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) I’ll just have to… (Extreme close-up; she stands to full height.) …stop time!
(Snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the upper reaches of the Canterlot train station at night. A train has pulled in at the platform, and the camera tilts down slightly to frame all of it just before it rolls out. The departure exposes Twilight, Pinkie, and Spike, all dressed in dark gray bodysuits; of the three, only Twilight has not pulled the hood up over her head. She gallops off, Spike runs, and Pinkie hops along as always, and they stop in an empty intersection. The gluttonous little dragon has obtained an ice cream cone by the time they reach this point. Until further notice, Twilight keeps her voice down when speaking.)
Twilight: (pointing) Okay. The Canterlot Archives are right over there. (tiptoeing ahead) Let’s move!
(Her fellow conspirators continue with their preferred modes of locomotion. Cut to a stone fixture in a garden, from which Twilight puts her head out for a peek; she somersaults over to land behind a tree and then charges ahead. The other two carry on.)
Spike: Uh, I don’t think we need to sneak around, Twilight. (Close-up.) It’s not illegal to walk around Canterlot.
Twilight: (from o.s.) Guard!
(He and his cone freeze in their tracks, and she leaps up onto a pedestal to strike a pose next to a unicorn statue.)
Twilight: Come on, you guys!
(The earth pony does a quick, pirouette and freezes in mid-spin, while the little guy holds out his cone as if it were a microphone and goes stock-still. Here comes a gray-coated unicorn stallion in gold/dark gray armor, with a two-tone, light gray mane/tail; he walks past the implausible new statuary without even batting an eye. After he has moved on with his patrol, all three relax and Twilight lets out her held breath.)
Twilight: That was close. (Cut to Spike.)
Spike: (pulling at his suit) I don’t know why we have to wear these things either! (Pinkie leans down to him.)
Pinkie: Aren’t we wearing them for fun?
Twilight: (from o.s.) No… (Cut to frame all three.) …there’s nothing fun about this! (She walks off.)
Pinkie: Oh…are you sure? (Twilight gets in her face.)
Twilight: Focus, guys! The only way to prevent this disaster is to stop time!
(Cut to a close-up of a sunburst ornament atop a spire, then zoom out to frame it on the roof of a tower during the next line.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Time spells are kept in the Starswirl the Bearded Wing— (Tilt down to ground level; two guards stand at the closed doors.) —the most secure section of the Archives! (Back to her and Pinkie.) That’s why we’re sneaking around!
Pinkie: Awesome! That sounds fun!
Twilight: (walking ahead) No! It’s not fun!
Pinkie: (ears drooping) Awww…
(The stealthy unicorn dives into a bush and rushes ahead from it as the other two stroll unhurriedly along the path. In her haste, she gets a piece of her suit caught and ripped away on a protruding branch.)
Pinkie: I still don’t understand how sneaking into the Archives is gonna help her find out about her birthday present.
(Spike just takes another lick at his ice cream. Wipe to a window, which Twilight opens from outside for a look-see; the encounter with the bush has left various rents in her clothing. Cut to her perspective of the immediate area, panning from side to side.)
Twilight: The coast is clear. (Back to her.) Now slowly lift me into the window so we can—
(“Slowly,” in this case, consists of Pinkie heaving her through in one swift push so that she lands flat on a rug with a yell. Dragon and earth pony pass her at their own paces.)
Spike: (groaning impatiently) Let’s get this over with.
(Wipe to a dimly lit spot just around a corner as Twilight plasters herself against the wall and risks a peek. A circle of light makes its way toward her; she pulls her head back, now joined by Pinkie and Spike. A longer shot frames a guard on patrol, using his horn to cast a flashlight beam, but he cuts it off an instant before it can reach the trio. All three hurry out and behind a pair of stationary guards; when the scoop falls of Spike’s cone, he stops and slurps up most of it in one quick move. His bliss lasts only long enough for Twilight to gallop back and drag him ahead by a fold of his suit.)
(Now the two ponies hang on to the uppermost sections of the banners on two adjacent support columns. A passing guard sees neither of them and just misses Spike when he peeks out from a third banner; the other two slide down to ground level, but he drops like a cinderblock. Cut to a close-up of a hunched-over Twilight as she slinks down the hallway.)
Twilight: Okay. If my calculations are correct, the Starswirl the Bearded Wing should be right… (Zoom out slightly; she stops and straightens up.) …here!
(She has reached a closed door and open window.)
Spike: (from o.s.) Uh, Twilight? (Pan to frame him behind her.)
Twilight: What is it, Spike?
Spike: (gesturing to window) Isn’t this where we came in? (Pinkie pops up outside it; Twilight paces.)
Pinkie: Cool! Can we climb in the window again? That was super-fun.
Twilight: I don’t understand. It’s supposed to be right here. How are we supposed to find it now?
Pinkie: (gesturing ahead) Maybe we should ask somepony in the Starswirl the Bearded Wing.
(The flummoxed unicorn and the bemused dragon aim their gazes in this direction, and the camera cuts to a shot of the entire hallway. They are looking at a locked gate directly across from them; shelves of literature are visible through the grid of metal bars, and a large star decorates the wall above it.)
Twilight: Huh. How’d I miss that?
(Cut to within this wing and zoom out slowly through the gate. Every shelf is stuffed with books and scrolls, and a massive hourglass stands on a pedestal in the central rotunda.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Look at all those priceless magic scrolls. There are more than I ever imagined! (Cut to her and Pinkie.)
Pinkie: (tapping Twilight’s shoulder) Twilight! The guard!
(The shadow of one begins to grow on the far wall, marking his approach from the connecting passageway. Twilight gasps softly; she and Pinkie start to panic as Spike seems to care not a whit.)
Twilight: What do we do, what do we do?
(She hits the deck just before a set of gray-armored hooves advances along the carpet. They stop right in front of her shaking, huddled form, and Twilight can do nothing but uncover one eye and look up into the guard’s stolid face. He stares her down impassively for a long second, then breaks into a smile.)
Guard: Hey, Twilight! Haven’t seen you in a while. (horn glowing) Let me open that for you.
(He does so as she gets to her hooves, and the other two head in. Now she returns to her normal speaking volume.)
Twilight: (laughing sheepishly) Thanks.
(Wipe to her and Spike proceeding cautiously down one aisle; she stops short.)
Twilight: Oh, no!
(Spike runs into her from behind and Pinkie slams into them both. A strangled cry and burst of speed take her over to a full-length mirror; close-up of her reflection.)
Twilight: (about to panic) Look! I look just like Future Twilight. The last sign has come true!
Pinkie: And that’s bad, right?
Twilight: (galloping away) Come on!
(Pinkie follows her, Spike slapping a fresh scoop on his cone and bringing up the rear.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) It’s almost Tuesday morning!
(Cut to a window and zoom in slowly; daylight is beginning to brighten the sky.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) The disaster could happen at any moment! (Back to the trio.)
Spike: But how do we find the time-stopping spell? There must be a million scrolls here! (Close-up of Twilight.)
Twilight: I…don’t…know!
(On each of the last two words, the camera cuts to a closer shot of her face, ending with an extreme close-up of her two eyes and one panic-constricted pupil. She then races to the nearest shelves and starts pawing through the haphazard masses of documents. A quick tilt up to ceiling level shows Pinkie rooting through scrolls while perched on top of the stacks. As the sunlight continues to lighten the sky, Spike begins to nod off from his position on the floor. He snaps awake and resumes his frantic search through the books piled around him. Pinkie, now also at ground level, keeps checking scrolls; pan quickly to Twilight as she hunts madly among the shelves.)
(Now the morning rays advance across the floor, touching the exhausted little dragon’s form. He jumps up and runs to the window.)
Spike: Twilight! It’s over!
(Elsewhere, she keeps racing here and there, levitating documents and reading on the fly with a strangled moan.)
Spike: (from o.s.) It’s officially Tuesday morning! (She joins him at the window.)
Twilight: (moaning) No!
(Cut to the rising sun outside; a rooster’s crowing rings out over the scene.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Tuesday morning—the disaster! (Back to the pair.) INCOMING!!
(She shoves Spike well away from the window and hits the deck, fully prepared for the world to end here and now. Close-up.)
Spike: (from o.s., prodding her) I don’t know, Twilight. (She peeks out.) I don’t see any disasters. (Pan to him, lowering his hood.) It looks like a pretty nice day.
(And who should choose this moment to stroll through but Princess Celestia, casual as anything.)
Celestia: Good morning, Twilight. Love the new hairstyle. Well, happy Tuesday.
(A rather perplexed look takes hold of the young unicorn’s face, and she stands up.)
Twilight: Why isn’t anypony surprised to see me sneaking around in here?
(Cut to outside the window and zoom in slowly as a bird flits past.)
Twilight: (standing up into view) Is it possible there never was a disaster? (Spike puts his head up.) That I’ve just been making myself frantic over nothing? (Inside, he leads her from the window.)
Spike: I don’t get it. If Future Twilight wasn’t warning you about a disaster, then what was she trying to tell you?
(After stopping and looking herself over, Twilight smiles and laughs softly—something has finally clicked in her head.)
Twilight: I don’t know, but I do know one thing. I look ridiculous! (Both have a good laugh.)
Spike: Yeah, you do!
Twilight: And it’s all because I couldn’t stop worrying and let the future handle itself. (walking past him) Well, not anymore. From now on, I’m gonna solve problems as they come, and stop worrying about every little thing.
Spike: That’s great! Does that mean there won’t be any more late-night pacing? (She has reached the giant hourglass.)
Twilight: No more late-night pacing. If only I had learned this lesson a week ago, we wouldn’t have had to go through all this. (Pinkie sticks her head out from one aisle, her hood now down.)
Pinkie: Twilight, Twilight! (holding up a scroll) I found something!
(Twilight levitates it away; cut to her as she gives it a read.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) It doesn’t stop time, but it lets you go back in time! It says you can go back once— (trotting to Spike; he licks his cone) —and it only lasts for a few moments. (Back to Twilight; she continues o.s.) Does that help? (Roll up scroll; float away.)
Twilight: Pinkie! You’re a genius!
Pinkie: (jumping in place) Woo-hoo!
Twilight: Now I can go back and tell Past Twilight that she doesn’t need to go berserk with worry about a disaster that’s never gonna come!
(Cut to a close-up of her hooves as she plants them for a solid balance, then tilt up to her face. Every muscle scrunches in fierce concentration as the horn above the white bandage flares up: Pinkie and Spike watch, shocked into silence, as papers and books swirl around them. A sudden flash of white fills the screen, from which the view fades in to a close-up of Twilight now back at home base. She stands up, shakes her head clear, and addresses herself across the room. The following exchange plays out in her upper-story living quarters, exactly as it did in Act One, but that “Future TS” is now Twilight and that “Twilight” is now “Past TS.”)
Twilight: Twilight… (galloping to Past TS) …you’ve got to listen to me!
Past TS: Who are you? I mean, you’re me, but I’m me too. How can there be two me’s? It’s not scientifically possible. (poking hoof into Twilight’s chest) You are not scientifically possible!
Twilight: Twilight, please! I have a very important message for you from the future!
Past TS: (excitedly) You’re from the future?
Twilight: (as Past TS paces behind her) That’s right, now listen.
Past TS: What happened to you? The future must be awful.
Twilight: Please! I don’t have much time!
Past TS: Is there some sort of epic pony war in the distant future or something? (Close-up of Twilight.)
Twilight: Actually, I’m from next Tuesday morning. But that’s not important right now! (Cut to frame both on the start of the next line.)
Past TS: I can’t believe time travel is really possible! How did you—I mean, I—figure it out?
Twilight: The time spells are in the Canterlot Archives. But that’s not—
Past TS: Really? Where? I’ve never seen them.
Twilight: They’re in the Starswirl the Bearded Wing. Now you have to listen to—
Past TS: Is time travel fun, or does it hurt? (Close-up.) I have so many questions— (Twilight shoves a hoof into her mouth; the sparks start flying again to mark her impending departure.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) I have something extremely important to tell you about the future!
(Cut to frame her on the end of this; the white energy begins to envelop her again, its hum gradually drowning out her voice.)
Twilight: And I only have a few seconds, so you’ve got to listen! Whatever you do, don’t—
(Before she can finish the warning, she vanishes with one last flash; the view clears to show her back in the Canterlot Archives as Pinkie and Spike shade their eyes.)
Twilight: (losing steam) —waste your time…worrying…about… (Groan; she puts a hoof to her good eye.) I can’t believe I just did that!
Pinkie: (walking to her) Did you tell her about the cool birthday present?
Twilight: Remember last week when Future Twilight came to warn me about something? (Cut to Spike, now eating from a carton; she continues o.s.) That was me, trying to warn myself not to worry so much! (Back to her and Pinkie.) Now I’m gonna spend the next week freaking out about a disaster that doesn’t even exist! (She sits on her haunches with another groan.)
Pinkie: Aw, don’t worry about it. (rubbing Twilight’s back) It’s Past Twilight’s problem now.
Twilight: (laughing) Ah, I guess you’re right, Pinkie.
(The o.s. Spike’s pained moan and stomach rumble interrupt her happy reverie. Cut to him, clutching his gut and standing up.)
Spike: (weakly) My stomach!
(He topples onto his back; cut to the concerned mares.)
Spike: (from o.s.) I…I think it’s all that ice cream. (Back to him.) I thought the stomachache would be Future Spike’s problem…but now I am Future Spike.
(Moan and rumble; Twilight and Pinkie trade a worried look, then break out in a fit of the giggles at his failure to grasp the idea of cause and effect.)
Twilight: (trotting to him; Pinkie hops away) Come on, Future Spike. (She levitates him onto her back.) Let’s get you home.
(She walks off as the camera pans back to frame the hourglass. Fade to black.)
DRAGON QUEST
Written by Merriwether Williams
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Note: All lines marked with one asterisk (*) are spoken in a hushed tone or whisper.
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a very long shot of Ponyville during the day. The sound of digging is heard, and the camera tilts down slightly to a stretch of open land where Applejack and Pinkie Pie are excavating a trench, shovels in mouths. Zoom in on Fluttershy’s cottage, which stands in the distance to one side of the road leading to town.)
Twilight Sparkle: (voice over, pleadingly) Come on, Fluttershy. It’ll be fun.
(Inside, she stands worriedly by the fireplace/stove, watching as Rainbow Dash drags the most unwilling yellow pegasus across the floor by the tail.)
Fluttershy: There’s nothing fun about dragons! Scary, yes! Fun, no! (She breaks loose and gallops back, Rainbow flying after to push her across again.)
Twilight: But, Fluttershy, the Great Dragon Migration happens only once in a generation. (Close-up.) Do you really want to pass up a chance like that?
(Pan slightly to frame the two flyers; Fluttershy has latched all four hooves onto the frame of her open front door, and Rainbow is straining mightily to shove her out.)
Fluttershy: Now that you put it that way… (Cut to just outside.) …yes! (Twilight teleports onto the step.)
Twilight: Aw, Fluttershy, we just don’t want you to miss out.
Fluttershy: Miss out on what? Dragons? Big, scaly, fire-breathing dragons?
Twilight: Well…yeah.
Fluttershy: Thanks, but no thanks! (Rainbow stops pushing.)
Rainbow: Look, Fluttershy. (pulling out a photo) I watched that boring butterfly migration with you.
(Close-up of the snapshot on the end of this. Both pegasi wear pith helmets and are in a meadow. Fluttershy sits on her haunches, watching a long procession of flitting butterflies through binoculars, while Rainbow hunches grumpily off to one side. The camera then cuts back to them, Rainbow lowering the photo and Fluttershy looking quite out of sorts.)
Rainbow: So now it’s your turn to watch the Dragon Migration with me. You owe me!
Fluttershy: I…said… NO!!
(Executing a lightning-fast 180, she plows the daredevil down to the rug and drives a few too many hooves into her belly. Twilight has time for one shocked gasp before Fluttershy gallops to a rear window with a rising growl. When she reaches it, the half-deranged naturalist stands up on her hind legs, ready to smash the panes to atoms—and then she gives the gentlest push to open them. Cut to outside the window; she leaps out and away with a terrified whimper, and Twilight stares after her with jaw hanging wide open. Inside, she watches Fluttershy gallop across the meadow and turns her attention to the dazed sky-blue pony still laid out on the rug—eyes spinning and butterflies circling her head.)
Rainbow: Okay, I guess I’ll let you off the hook this time.
(Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to the same long shot of Ponyville that began the prologue and zoom out to frame one edge of the trench Applejack and Pinkie were digging. A few bushes have been placed here for cover, and Twilight pops up to look through a pair of binoculars. She has donned a camouflage shirt and leaf/branch-covered army helmet, and lowering the lenses reveals mud smeared on her face.)
* Twilight: I don’t see any dragons.
(Pan slightly to frame Applejack alongside with a set of her own. She too has done up in camo, but is using a poncho whose hood is up.)
* Applejack: Me neither.
(Zoom out slightly. Now Pinkie can be seen alongside the pair: camo shirt and leaf-covered cap, binocs to her eyes but turned the wrong way around.)
* Pinkie: Me neither, neither.
(Her perspective through the lenses—greatly shrunken in size due to the mistake. The bit of sky she can see is clear.)
* Pinkie: Shoot! (Tilt down quickly to frame Rainbow in the trench.)
* Rainbow: You don’t think we missed ’em, do you?
(Cut to all four. The pegasus is attired identically to Pinkie, but her cap has no leaves on it, and she has daubed mud across her cheeks as Twilight did.)
* Twilight: No. I don’t think so. (Long shot.) We’re just a little early, and I’m glad we are. (Close-up.) This way, we can watch every moment of the Migration without bringing any unwanted attention to ourselves.
Rarity: (from o.s.) YOO-HOO!!
(Four startled heads turn in unison toward her voice, just in time to catch sight of a very long red carpet being rolled out toward the steps leading down into the trench. Rarity walks along this in a long overhead shot. She maintains normal volume while the others keep their voices down.)
Rarity: Well…
(Confetti and streamers burst from the end as it reaches full length. In close-up, the designer is seen to be wearing her own version of camo, with the usual greens and browns replaced by a purple background and plenty of bright colors. Yellow ribbons adorn each foreleg sleeve, a matching ascot puffs out from the neckline, and the small hat bears a deep purple feather.)
Rarity: …what do you think? Am I the toast of the trench or what? (Laugh.)
* Applejack: You’ll be toast, all right, when the dragons see you paradin’ around in that getup!
* Twilight: (warming up horn) You look very nice, Rarity.
(Long shot of the trench. As she continues, she hits the carpet and confetti with a burst of magic, making them vanish while Rarity descends the steps. Only the white unicorn is visible in this shot.)
* Twilight: (from within trench) But could you maybe look nice down here in the trench with us? (Close-up of Rarity.)
Rarity: “Nice” is an understatement. I look fabulous! Who says camouflage has to be drab?
* Pinkie: (from o.s.) Ahoy, mateys! (Long overhead shot of all five.) Dragons, ho!
(As broad winged shadows start to pass over the trench, four pairs of binoculars and one set of opera glasses are brought to bear. Pinkie has hers turned around the right way now, as seen in a close-up.)
* All five: Ooooh…ahhhh…
(A cut to just behind their heads frames the plethora of soaring dragons, in a bewildering range of sizes, colors, and body types. One particularly large orange specimen does a loop-the-loop that carries it low over the trench.)
* Twilight: Wow… (Close-up of her and Rarity.) Amazing!
(Pan to Applejack and Rainbow, also awestruck—at least until Rainbow waves it off with a dismissive raspberry.)
* Rainbow: Pretty lame move. Is that all they’ve got?
(A vivid magenta dragon gets sideswiped in midair and unleashes a broad jet of fire toward ground level. All but Rainbow hit the dirt; the flames bathing the area n a lurid glow; in close-up, Applejack is the first to stand.)
* Applejack: (smugly) What do you think of that move, Rainbow Dash? (Pan slowly toward Rainbow.) Still think they’re lame?
(Stop on the gobsmacked blue face, now smudged with soot from the three-alarm close call. Her cap has been blown halfway off her head, and the fringe of her mane is singed and smoking.)
* Rainbow: Uh, not so much. The word “fierce” comes to mind.
* Rarity: And “formidable”!
* Pinkie: (hunched down, hooves to head) And “super-duper scary”!
(Holding out one front hoof, she gets a cupcake plunked onto it by a familiar clawed hand with light violet hide.)
Spike: (from o.s., normal volume) Yeah.
(Cut to him, also in the trench, wearing a frilly white apron with a bright pink heart and wheeling a loaded snack cart.)
Spike: Us dragons are definitely a force to be reckoned with.
(He gives Applejack a cookie; laughter from the o.s. Rainbow. Cut to her, toppled on her back and yukking it up as Applejack and Pinkie snack. She has cleaned herself up.)
Rainbow: Yeah, right, Spike. That’s one of the scariest aprons I’ve ever seen! (All three laugh.)
Spike: What’s wrong with wearing an apron? You won’t be laughing when you spill blueberries all over your scales…uh, feathers. That’s one tough stain!
Rainbow: One tough stain against one lame dragon!
(Laugh; the reptilian green eyes cycle from shock to resentment. On the start of the next line, cut to Rarity staring Rainbow down.)
Rarity: You leave him alone, Rainbow Dash! Spike’s style is unique. He doesn’t have to look like other dragons.
Twilight: Or act like them. (Rarity jumps over to Spike.)
Rarity: (twanging his head spines) My little Spikey-wikey is perfect the way he is.
Spike: (puzzled) I don’t act like other dragons? (Pinkie jumps over.)
Pinkie: Oh, not even close! (Applejack steps up.)
Applejack: But why would you want to, Spike?
Rarity: Yes! You’ve got something those dreadfully fierce dragons can only dream of.
Spike: (perking up) What’s that?
Rarity: (baby talk, pinching his cheeks) Your cutest wittle chubby cheeks! (Happy little squeal.)
Spike: (shocked, blushing) Cute?! Dragons aren’t supposed to be cute!…Right?
Rarity: Oh, sweetie, you are turning the most delightful shade of red. It is most becoming.
(Zoom out slightly to frame all five smiling mares gathered around the cart. Spike’s eyes dart nervously from one to the next, after which he lets go with a furious growl. Cut to ground level; he climbs/jumps out of the trench and stomps away as the dragons continue their flight. Rarity pokes her head up after him, followed by the others in short order.)
Rarity: Oh, isn’t he adorable when he waddles off in anger?
Spike: (now o.s.) Waddle?!? (Loud, frustrated yell.)
(Dissolve to the exterior of the library at night and zoom in slowly on the bedroom window.)
Spike: (from inside) What am I?
(Dissolve to an overhead close-up of him in his basket. The lights are out.)
Spike: Where am I from? (Zoom out slowly.) Who am I supposed to be?
(The camera movement exposes Twilight, lying in her bed alongside the basket—with a pillow jammed over her head to block out his voice. She puts it back in place with a loud groan.)
Twilight: I don’t know! For the last time, Spike, you were given to me as an egg. I don’t know who found you or where they found you.
Spike: (turning away from her) Seriously? That’s all you know?
Twilight: I’m sorry, Spike. (He sits up.)
Spike: That doesn’t tell me anything about who I am!
(He jumps out of the basket on the end of this. Cut to a mirror at the wall.)
Spike: (from o.s.) I need answers! (stepping into view) I feel like I’m… (touching glass; eyes tear up) …I’m looking at a complete stranger.
(He sinks to the floor with a dejected moan, the camera cutting to an overhead view and zooming out as Twilight crosses to him.)
Twilight: Oh, Spike… (close-up, smiling) …why don’t we do some late-night research? See what we can find out. (He wipes his eyes; she steps away.)
Spike: Really? (Lights on.) You’d do that?
(Cut to the inquisitive unicorn in the reading room downstairs; she levitates a book off one of the shelves.)
Twilight: Of course! I’m sure we can find something.
(Open the cover. Start reading. Dissolve to this self-same unicorn, now slumped over and displaying the amount of fatigue and dishevelment that is proper for an all-night study session. The shelves behind her are now completely bare, their contents piled up on the floor. Zoom out slightly to frame the full measure of disorder as she floats a book over to herself and magically flips pages.)
Twilight: Nothing. (Send it away; another.) Nothing in this one either.
(Cut to a long shot of the entire room on the end of this. Daylight can be seen through an upper window, and every single shelf has been cleared. Spike sits among the jumbles and looks through one volume.)
Spike: Nothing at all about dragons? (Close-up; he throws it aside.) This is getting ridiculous! (Hunker down miserably; eyes tear up.).
Twilight: (from o.s.) I know! (Cut to her.) It’s hard to believe, but ponies know next to nothing about dragons. Apparently they’re too rare and too scary to try to talk to or study. (A little sob from Spike’s direction; cut to him.)
Spike: I wonder if…dragons…cry.
(This one does, at least, so Twilight steps over and levitates a handkerchief to wipe his eyes and nose.)
Twilight: Aw, Spike… (He pushes it away and stands up, all determination.)
Spike: (crossing room, scrubbing eyes dry) It’s okay, Twilight. I’m gonna discover who I am if it’s the last thing I do!
(The front door is thrown open, exposing Rainbow and Rarity on the step; they speak at the same time.)
Rainbow: Hey, guys!
Rarity: Yoo-hoo!
(Back to Twilight and Spike; the latter gets out a surprised yell and dives into the nearest pile of books.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) Good morning! (She and Rainbow enter.)
Rainbow: You want to join us for breakfast?
Twilight: That sounds great. (Cut to Spike; she continues o.s. and he picks a book off his head.) I’m famished.
Spike: Count me out. (He jumps down.) I’ve gotta get an early start.
Rarity: An early start? (He stands at the door; zoom in slowly.)
Spike: Yes. I’m going on a quest of self-discovery. I need to learn what it means to be a dragon. And the only way I’m gonna do that is to join the Dragon Migration!
Twilight, Rainbow, Rarity: What?!?
(Now back inside, he lays a stick and a large square of cloth on the nearest table and steps away as Rainbow approaches.)
Rainbow: Spike, that’s nonsense talk! I know that you’re a dragon, but those dragons mean business!
(Cut to him on the end of this line, retrieving a few items from a pantry cupboard: sandwich, apron, and the apple-patterned blanket he received as a birthday present in “Secret of My Excess.” He returns to the table.)
Rainbow: They’re big and tough and scary. (The items are set on the cloth.)
Spike: (sullenly) And I’m small and meek… (picking up apron) …and I like to wear aprons. (He throws it aside.) See? This is exactly why I need to spend time with ’em.
Rainbow: All I’m saying is that you could get hurt. (Rarity joins the two; Spike starts tying the lot into a bindle.)
Rarity: Darling, this time I really do have to agree with Rainbow Dash. I don’t want those big, ugly, nasty dragons— (to baby talk, rubbing his head) —to hurt one little scale on your cutesy-wutesy head.
(With the bindle now knotted onto the stick, he hefts it onto his shoulder and stalks off, knocking her hoof away. The show of affection has, if anything, only hardened his resolve.)
Spike: I’m sorry, but I’ve made up my mind.
Rarity: (sputtering, to Rainbow) Quick, do something! Stop him before it’s too late!
(The speedster’s wings propel her over to the door in no time flat; she gets the bundle in her teeth, starting a fierce tug-of-war.)
Spike: (grunting) Hey! (Cut to Twilight, thinking hard; he continues o.s.) Give it back!
(She teleports over to stand between the two.)
Twilight: Hold it!
(Two more quick teleports remove them from the spot and rematerialize them a few feet back on either side. Once they and the bundle have all hit the floor, she levitates the impromptu luggage and eyes it ruefully before floating it down to Spike.)
Spike: Really?
Rainbow: Don’t tell me you think he should go! (Spike, now up, gets it on his shoulder.)
Twilight: (smiling) Yes, Spike. (Zoom in slowly.) I couldn’t answer your questions. My books couldn’t, either. I understand why you want to look elsewhere. I truly believe you need to go on this quest. (sharply, to the o.s. Rainbow and Rarity) And we have no right to stop you! (Cut to Rarity.)
Rarity: I suppose not. (Zoom out; Rainbow is upright again.)
Rainbow: I still say you’re nutty, but…hey. I’ve done lots of nutty things.
Twilight, Rarity, Spike: (wearily) We know. (Rainbow snarls to herself.)
Twilight: (hugging Spike) Well, then, I guess this is goodbye, Spike. We can’t wait to hear about it—when you return.
Rainbow: Yeah! We hope your trip—
Twilight: Quest.
Rainbow: —your quest answers some of your pesky “who am I” questions.
Spike: Thanks, everypony. I know it will.
(He walks away. Cut to outside the door; the three mares stand on the step and wave.)
Rarity: Goodbye, Spikey-wikey!
Rainbow: Go get ’em, big guy!
Twilight: We have faith in you!
(Ear-to-ear grins on all three faces.)
Rarity: (aside, to Twilight) We’re following him, right?
Twilight: (aside) Of course.
(Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to the hordes of airborne dragons, seen from far below in a clear blue sky, and tilt down to ground level. Spike strides confidently up over a hill in the general direction of their flight, but stops to wipe away the sweat running down his face. A dissolve puts him on an uphill climb through a windswept section of forest, while the next shows him plodding down a grassy incline in the pouring rain.)
(Dissolve to a view of the flying behemoths under a bright yellow sky. The camera is positioned just over Spike’s shoulder as he looks up at them; cut to two, who bump into each other and let off angry screeches, then to a head-on view of him. He has unpacked his bundle and is sitting on the apple blanket to enjoy some tea and cookies. A spasm of disgust crosses his face—“real dragons don’t drink tea!”—and he throws the cup and saucer aside.)
(Dissolve to him on the move again, bundle and all, trudging up a snowy mountainside in a violent blizzard. As a few rams pass behind him, he stops and puts out a thumb; dissolve to him now riding one of them up the slope. The next two such transitions frame him back on foot, making his way along a sun-baked downgrade…then in a straw hat and helping to pole a raft downriver, alongside a donkey whose dark gray mane is an exact match for the toupee Cranky Doodle Donkey first wore in “A Friend in Deed”…then back on dry land, hiking through a forest as the dragons pass overhead. A pair of phoenixes can be seen roosting on a tree branch in the foreground.)
(In close-up, the little traveler’s face is seen to be covered with a scruffy gray beard now. Coming into the open, he finds a line of smoking volcanoes dead ahead under a red-orange afternoon sky. As the flyers make for one crater or another, his face brightens and he sprints ahead, the beard coming loose and falling to the ground. Whether it was a disguise he brought along with him, an item he put together using the ram’s wool, or simply an accumulation of dirt over the long journey, may never be known. He hurries up the steep rock face, trips and slides back down, and scrambles up again.)
(Wipe to just inside the lip of one crater. Spike climbs up, peeks wearily in over the edge, and lets his eyes go wide in pure amazement. Before him, full-grown dragons of all types glide through the hazy air and perch on the rocky ledges; one huge red specimen lets go with a blast of fire that comes within an ace of burning him to a crisp. Only a last-second duck keeps him alive, and he peeks back up to find smoke rising from the impact point and a slab of red-hot rock. As it cools off into black slag, he swallows hard and turns his attention elsewhere. The camera cuts to his perspective of a couple of other full-size beasts, then tilts down to the crater floor, where a half-dozen smaller ones are goofing off amid piles of gems.)
Spike: (enthusiastically) All right! (Back to him.) Teenage dragons! (Zoom out; he runs in.) Now that’s more my speed… (now o.s.) …and size.
(He does not notice a rather strange-looking dragon that lumbers up to the lip after him. The hide is green, the neck a lighter shade and sporting a bright magenta scarf, and the ears and back spines display a multitude of vivid colors. In addition, the snout is bright yellow-green and various jewels are set into the thing’s carapace; the mouth gapes open and the eyes point in different directions. Quite a few details give it away as a not-quite-authentic dragon: the visible seams and stitches, the legs of Rainbow and Rarity protruding from underneath, the blue pegasus wings sprouting from the back, the eyeholes cut into the chest so Rainbow can see out, and Twilight’s head barely visible within the shadow of the open mouth. Various grunts and groans point up the trio’s difficulty in moving and balancing.)
* Rainbow: (inside) I’m telling you, we’ll never pass for a real dragon!
Rarity: (inside) Oh, pish-posh! This costume is fabulous! One of my finer creations.
* Twilight: Shhh! (Close-up of her.) We’ll never pass if they hear three voices coming out of one dragon. Now come on! Let’s go!
(Rainbow takes a step forward over the edge; gravity does its thing and drags the group into the crater. Down below, four of the six teenage dragons cheer as the last two square off for a fight. One is red, with yellow-orange back/tail spines and head fin and pale yellow underbelly/wings—this is Garble. The other, much fatter one has brown hide, small red wings, thick blue horns, and a spiked ball on the end of a chunky tail. In close-up, Garble gets Brown in a full nelson before Spike’s voice cuts in.)
Spike: (from o.s.) Um…excuse me? (Zoom out; he now stands next to them.) Uh, hi. I’m Spike.
(They stand at least twice as tall as he does. General surprise; Garble drops Brown, and a purple dragon moves in close. This one has pale green hide on his underbelly and the lower surfaces of his wings, along with a shock of blond hair that hides his eyes.)
Purple: (derisively) You sure your name is Spike and not Shrimp? (Laughter.)
Spike: No! It’s Spike! I-I mean, I’m sure about that!
Brown: (poking him) You look more like a Pee-Wee to me! (More laughter.)
Garble: Hey, guys, come on, seriously. (crossing to Spike) Leave him alone, or he might fly away—that is, uh… (dangling him upside down by tail) …if he had any wings!
(He drops the little guy back to the crater floor, prompting a fresh wave of jeers.)
Brown: You flying on your mommy’s back during the Migration?
Spike: Not exactly.
Purple: No, no! Can’t you see baby Spike just hatched? I bet he still sucks his claw at night!
Spike: No! I haven’t sucked my claw in months!
(Laughter; Garble leans down to him and the thumb that has reflexively found its way into his mouth.)
Garble: Well, if you weren’t just hatched… (Spike pulls the digit out.) …how come we haven’t seen you around before?
Spike: Oh! Well, you see, I live in Ponyville and— (Cut to Garble, straightening up; he continues o.s.) —and I’m—
Garble: (laughing nastily) Ponyville? That explains it! I knew there was something vaguely pony-ish about you! (backing him up) If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were part pony.
Spike: (really scared) Who, me? I’m not part pony. (now backed against a rock) I’m all dragon. See?
(He lets go with the most vicious roar he can muster up—that is, not very—and thoroughly fails to impress the lot.)
Garble: (baby talk) Or maybe you’re a pony in a dragon costume.
(The others have a good laugh, not noticing the ersatz bejeweled one that has made its way down here.)
Purple: (falling against it) A pony in a dragon costume!
Twilight: (laughing, deep voice) Yeah. Hilarious.
(Purple manages a puzzled squeak—“who let this joker in the place?”)
Spike: I am a real dragon!
Garble: Oh, yeah? Prove it!
Spike: Well…how?
Garble: By acting like one. (calling out) Who’s up for a little belching contest?
(Brown and three other crew members—white with pink spines; blue with lavender spines/wing hide and light blue horns, dark gray with forward-swept green hair and brownish-underbelly—cheer this suggestion with gusto. Tilt up quickly from them to frame a couple of full-grown dragons taking notice, then cut to White stepping up. He cuts loose with a jet of light blue flames; up next is Purple, who counters with a green blast of his own. Brown’s louder, more sustained effort generates a sheet of orange fire that briefly envelops the spectators and burns the eyelashes off the three mares’ disguise. Garble, Gray, and Blue voice their enthusiastic approval as Brown brings up a smoky little cough.)
Garble: (elbowing Spike) You think you can beat that, Pee-Wee?
(“Pee-Wee” swallows hard and walks up to the line as Twilight grimaces within the costume’s mouth. Now standing alongside White, Purple, and Brown, he lets his cheeks bulge out and forces out a little burp of green fire that solidifies into a scroll. Close-up of this; confused murmurs float down from the o.s. teens, and Garble reaches into view to grab it. Cut to him, now having unrolled the document.)
Garble: (reading) “From the desk of Princess Celestia. Dear Spike: Please tell—” (laughing) Get this, guys! Spike’s pen pals with a namby-pamby pony princess!
(Cut to the mortified Spike on the end of this, then zoom out as the others laugh themselves stupid. The note is balled up and thrown over Garble’s shoulder to land in a lava pool, which promptly incinerates it; tilt up to frame the fake dragon looking on. Twilight gasps softly, and the camera cuts to a close-up of her and zooms in slowly.)
* Twilight: How can he just throw that away? (angrily) That letter could be something important! (Tilt down quickly to Rainbow.)
* Rainbow: We can’t worry about that now, Twilight! We’re here to help Spike!
(The violet unicorn hangs into view, upside down, to look her in the eye as the white one nudges up a little closer from the rear.)
* Twilight: I know, I know. (She turns her head 180 degrees to peek out, backing into Rainbow’s face.) But there’s no reason to disrespect Princess Celestia that way.
(Outside, Garble has turned back to Spike.)
Garble: Maybe tail wrestling is more your speed.
Spike: Uh…
Other dragons: YEAH!!
(“Barn door wipe” to a close-up of the ends of Blue’s and Gray’s tails looping together, then cut to frame them fully. These two stand back to back with legs braced, while Garble is on hand as referee and the other three watch from the sidelines.)
Garble: Ready? Go!
(Every muscle in both combatants’ bodies kicks into overdrive, trying to drag the other off balance as Spike stares wonderingly. They remain at a stalemate for several long seconds, but one heave from Blue drops Gray onto his belly to end the match.)
Garble: (lifting Blue’s tail) The winner!
(Who flexes for the crowd as the loser nurses his freshly kinked tail. Spike, meanwhile, cradles his own with visible unease while cheers ring out around him.)
Spike: Good old tail wrestling. (Pan to frame Twilight/Rainbow/Rarity behind him.)
* Rarity: (inside) We can’t let little Spikey-wikey wrestle one of them! (Close-up of her and Rainbow inside.) He’ll get clobbered!
* Twilight: (from o.s.) Let’s go!
(Cut to the little dragon, whose tightly strung nerves have him jittering and stiff as a board, then zoom out to frame the trio as Twilight speaks up.)
Twilight: (deep voice) I challenge Spike to a tail wrestle!
Garble: (to Blue) Who’s this weirdo?
Purple: I think he’s Crackle’s cousin.
(Cut to an overlooking ledge, on which a rather strange-looking green dragon is perched. Tiny, light-green wings; matching back spines; thick, stubby blue horns; beady red eyes that steadfastly fail to point in the same direction; jewels embedded in the hide. Crackle lets off a yawp and scratches a spot with one hind leg.)
Garble: Oh. That would explain it.
(Close-up of the two adversaries’ tails as they extend toward each other, with Rarity’s hoof supporting the fake one. In a longer shot, it thumps to the ground as she retracts the limb; another close-up frames it falling over Spike’s tail after another nudge.)
Garble: (from o.s.) Ready? (Cut to him and Spike.) Go!
(The violet pipsqueak strains but cannot even budge the green appendage hanging limply over his own. Inside the costume, Rainbow and Rarity trade a slightly disgusted glance at his physical shortcomings and drop their heads resignedly; outside, the green counterfeit suddenly collapses to the ground. Sets of white and light blue legs end up in full view, but Garble pays no mind as he hoists Spike upside down by the tail.)
Garble: Spike’s the winner! (Drop; cheers as he sits up.) Nice going, little Spike. Maybe you are a dragon after all.
(He flicks Spike under the chin and backs off.)
Spike: Yeah! Maybe I am!
(The three mares are upright within their disguise and make their way out of the combat zone.)
* Rarity: (inside) Rainbow Dash! I can’t believe your silly plan actually worked! (Rainbow nudges her, hard.) Ow.
(Back to the crater floor; Spike’s confidence has now risen quite a few notches.)
Spike: All right. Who’s next?
Garble: Getting a little cocky, huh? I like that. So how about you wrestle… (pointing to one side) …him!
(Pan to follow his gesture. On the receiving end of it, hunkered down between White and Brown, is a small and rather scared-looking blue-green dragon with yellow underbelly/horns and a tuft of orange hair. Only the head and upper body can be seen. Spike throws him a taunting smile, which is the cue for White and Brown to step out of the way and the camera to zoom out. The underdeveloped forelimbs are attached to a smallish body that is in turn hooked up to a massive tail, easily three or four times the body length. As a final touch, the last few feet pop out a set of very unpleasant-looking spikes. Cut to Garble.)
Garble: Go!
(Up near the crater lip, Spike’s panicked yell cuts the smoky air and the spiked appendage flings him up to smash into the rock face, from which he slowly slides down. As a couple of adult dragons watch the aftermath of what might be the shortest tail-wrestling match in history, the view dissolves to a close-up of a jewel pile’s slope; Garble’s feet step nimbly up along it.)
Garble: So, Spike… (Cut to him, carrying Spike.) …you haven’t exactly proven yourself as a dragon yet…
(Close-up of Spike on the end of this, being dropped onto the top of the pile, then cut to frame both dragons.)
Garble: …have you?
Spike: But I get an A for effort?
Garble: Uh, maybe. Let’s see how you do in this next contest.
(A good shove sends the little guy on a long, bouncing, yelling tumble all the way to the ground and earns laughs from Blue and Brown. Close-up of Garble.)
Garble: KING OF THE HOARD!!
(On the end of this, zoom out to frame the prostrate Spike at the base of the mound. Gray, Brown, and Purple yell and charge toward it as he dazedly peels himself up and joins in. Up top, the dragon on the summit flips one after the other off the slope; Spike crawls timidly up as the hooligans go flying past him. Garble and Brown are left to grapple it out.)
Spike: This is my chance. (Purple makes another run up the hill.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Not so fast!
(The big fat fake green dragon dives across, knocking Purple away and forcing a grunt from Rarity; Spike reaches the top and stands up between Garble’s hind legs to knock him off balance. Down he goes, taking Brown with him and leaving Spike alone atop the mound of precious stones. Both eyes are squeezed tight shut, and the sight he finds upon opening one brings a surprised smile to his face: dragons sprawled out senseless on all sides.)
Spike: KING OF THE HOA—
(He trails off into a yell as the gems under his feet give way and send him bouncing down like a scaly Superball. The unceremonious descent drops him on his back at Garble’s feet; tilt up to the latter’s face.)
Garble: Looks like this is another fail for you, little Spike. Can’t wait to watch you fail at Lava Cannonball, too.
(Spike sweats and swallows hard as the camera zooms in on him. Dissolve to a close-up of the bubbling lava pool in which Garble disposed of Celestia’s letter, then tilt up to a high ledge on which all six delinquents and the disguised ponies are gathered. Spike peeks nervously out from the far end of the line.)
Garble: Whoever makes the biggest lava splash is the ultimate dragon! (jumping off) GERONIMOOO!
(His landing in the pool throws spatters of molten rock up to the ledge; Spike cries out and flinches to avoid one, and another nearly burns Rainbow’s foreleg off. Tilt up to a properly apprehensive Twilight in the costume’s mouth.)
* Twilight: (as all back off) Spike’s on his own this time.
(Purple, White, Blue, and Gray leap off in quick succession, each yelling all the way down to the pool and sending up their own splashes. Brown waits for the hubbub to subside before making his move.)
Brown: CANNONBALL!!
(A geyser of lava rockets skyward to mark his impact. Displaying a look that suggests his desire to grow a pair of wings and vacate the premises post haste, Spike steps to the edge. Cut briefly to his perspective, the focus shifting from his feet to the pool and back, then back to him. His arms flail for balance as he gets out a choked cry of terror and backs up, plastering himself against a rock face.)
Garble: (from o.s.) What’s wrong, Spike? (Cut to him and the others.) You afraid the lava will hurt your soft pony hide?
(A round of jeering laughter; cut to a close-up of the huddled, shaking baby dragon and zoom in. The brows above the reptilian green eyes lower in a silent snarl, and a moment later he is back at the precipice. He stands tall, paying no mind to the sweat that begins to run down his face, and the view cuts briefly to his perspective, shifting focus from his feet to the pool. Back to him; now he takes what might be the last hard swallow of his life, puts his hands together, and takes a screaming leap off the ledge. Instead of generating a splash like the others, he strikes the pool surface spreadeagle, face down, and sinks slowly into the bubbling mass.)
Gang: (wincing) Ohhhh!
(Close-up; Spike’s head breaks the surface and he spits out a mouthful. Zoom out to frame the others looking strangely at him.)
Spike: Uh…was I…that bad?
Garble: (smiling) No, dude, that was awesome! Nopony could live through a belly flop like that! (laughing, picking him up by the head spines) You’re one tough little dragon.
(Drop; admiring murmurs from the group bring a smile to Spike’s face. Dissolve to Gray, who sticks a couple of fingers in his mouth and blows a braying whistle, then to the tails of all but Garble being extended upward at an angle toward each other—three facing two. Tilt down to frame an apprehensive Spike at one end of this impromptu gauntlet; he slowly advances toward Garble at the other.)
Garble: Spike! By belly-flopping so hard, you have proven yourself worthy.
(Close-up of the now-proud little guy.)
Garble: (from o.s., touching each shoulder with his tail) I hereby dub you “Rookie Dragon” and will now perform the initiation ritual.
(Cut briefly to him, then back to Spike during this line; the latter is picked up, given a noogie hard enough to dizzy him, and set down as Garble laughs.)
Garble: Now let’s party dragon-style!
(The others whoop it up as the camera tilts up from them into the smoky sky. Dissolve to a long shot of the volcano craters, then cut to an overhead view of the six goof-offs plus their new initiate—all sprawled out and sleeping off the effects of their party.)
Spike: Man… (Close-up.) …was that a great party.
Garble: (from o.s.) Great? (Cut to him.) Heh. Maybe by Ponyville standards. Stick with us, Spike. (Back to Spike; he thumps a shoulder and continues o.s.) We still got plenty to teach you about being a dragon.
Spike: I’m not going anywhere. The way I feel right now, I could hang out with you guys forever.
(On the end of this, tilt up to frame the three ponies, watching from within their costume and behind a nearby outcropping. The view then cuts to a three-way split screen of their disbelieving faces: Twilight in the upper half, Rainbow at lower left, Rarity at lower right.)
* Twilight, Rainbow, Rarity: Forever?
(Snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a pan across Spike and the lounging teen dragons. Stop on the three-pony fake, which ducks behind the rock in time with a gasp from Rarity, and cut to her inside.)
* Rarity: Spikey-wikey is going to stay with these awful dragons forever? (Pan to Twilight.)
* Twilight: Oh, no! This is terrible! (Tilt down to Rainbow.)
* Rainbow: I shoulda stopped him back at the library when I had the chance! (Back to Twilight.)
* Twilight: No, Rainbow Dash. This is all my fault. I encouraged him to go.
(Cut to a close-up of the funky green head and zoom out quickly to frame the real bunch on the start of the next line. Assorted stretches and yawns, including Spike.)
Garble: You know, Spike, I think you just might be ready for a real dragon raid. (Cheers all around.) There’s a nest full of phoenix eggs nearby, and we’re gonna swipe ’em. (Spike voices an unsettled little squeak.)
Brown: Heh. Aren’t you totally psyched to go on this raid? (He shoves Spike down to the ground.)
Spike: (standing up, with false bravado) Oh, yeah. I’m excited. I mean, I-I’m psyched!
Garble: All right, then. Let’s fly!
(The unwilling accomplice can only glance at his own wingless back as Garble, Brown, and Purple lift off.)
Spike: (calling after them) Uh, sorry, guys! I guess I’ll meet you back here at the crater—after the whole raid thing’s over? We’ll totally hang then!
(Brown swoops down and snatches him, eliciting a scared yell; zoom out toward ground level.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Oh, no! (now in view; peeking from costume mouth) They took Spike! (ducking away) We gotta go after them!
(Without waiting for a consensus, the overeager pegasus does her best to lift the rig off. All she does is get the middle section a couple of feet off the ground, so that Twilight and Rarity are dragged along; Rarity’s terrified squeal is heard from beneath the gaudy green costume. The head unicorn looks forward, and the camera cuts briefly to her perspective of the rapidly approaching lava pool dead ahead. She screams; back to the trio.)
Twilight: (from inside) Rainbow Dash, stop! We can’t fly! (Close-up of Rarity inside.)
Rarity: And you’re ruining my fabulous costume!
(They skid to a stop with only inches to go before plunging into the smoldering liquid. Cut to Rainbow and Rarity inside.)
Rainbow: I’m sorry, but we gotta help Spike! (Tilt up to Twilight.)
Twilight: Well, we’re just gonna have to hoof it!
(Cut to the lip of the crater and zoom out to frame the flying crew as the earthbound one looks out after them. Evening has come. From here, dissolve to a close-up of the phoenix couple and their nest, seen during Spike’s journey to the volcanoes in Act Two, and zoom out.)
Garble: (from o.s.) All right, Spike. Since you’re our rookie dragon…
(On the end of this, the camera backs up through an opening in a bush, being held open by Garble; he, Brown, Purple, and Spike are hunched down here. Garble closes the hole.)
Garble: …you get to lure the parents away from the nest.
Spike: (nervously) Heh. Lucky me.
Garble: (shoving him into the open) Well, go on, then!
(A beat and a half of silence follows.)
Spike: (calling overhead, waving arms) Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Phoenix! I was hoping I could have a word with you? (They trade a confused little caw.) Um…I’d, um, like to ask you some questions, actually! (Garble peeks out.)
Garble: We haven’t got all day, Spike!
(A rock is picked up and dropped into the violet clawed hands; Garble ducks away and Spike hauls back for a throw.)
Spike: (tauntingly) Hey, you birdbrains! Come and get me!
(He lets fly on the end of this. Cut to a close-up of the nest’s edge; the rock drops nearly inside, a loud bonk is heard, and two annoyed phoenixes sit up. The fresh lump on the male’s head tells the tale, and he lets go with a growling caw that spooks Spike into a full retreat. What comes down after him is a pair of fully ignited firebirds whose flaming wings fill the screen as they swoop down after this impudent interloper.)
(After they have gone, the three teens fly up from their bush and hover by the nest. Close-up of a surprised Garble, zooming in.)
Garble: What the—?
(The nest proves to be full, not of eggs, but of five brand-new, happily cheeping hatchlings.)
Purple: The eggs have hatched!
Brown: What do we do now? (Zoom in to a close-up of Garble.)
Garble: (menacingly) We take the hatchlings, of course.
(All five screech and scatter, leaving him to grab only a handful of air. One pops up behind his shoulder and zips ahead, dodging his straight-arm grab—and then two more emerge out of thin air and perch on that limb. A dual dive through Garble’s legs has him snatching at nothing under his tail; next three appear on his head and split up as he tries to slam his jaws closed on them. The sum total of all these contortions is to leave his whole body tied in a knot; he topples onto his back as the five baby firebirds blow a hearty raspberry and bug out. Brown and Purple get him untied.)
Garble: Get ’em!
(The others take off, and he—now back on his feet—gets a running start out of the nest to catch up. His motion causes part of the structure to crumble away and sends an intact egg tumbling over the side. Its shell is a glossy orange and streaked with yellow flames, and it bounces from limb to limb, skims off a spiderweb, and drops from the end of a low branch into some bushes before rolling into the open.)
(Spike, meanwhile, continues his frantic getaway from the two hot-tempered parents. The male comes within an inch of chomping his tail off before the hatchlings’ distant shrieks cut in. When Spike trips on a rock and goes face first in the dirt, he looks up to find the pair doubling back toward the distress call. At the chase scene, Garble and company are hot on the quintet’s tails; he tries to munch one down, only to get a huge lick of fire across the kisser instead. This clears to leave his face smudged with soot and no hatchlings in sight; he looks around, groans loudly and charges ahead as one of the adults streaks across his path.)
Garble: GET THEM!!
(Now all seven birds have regrouped and shifted their wings into fourth or eighth or twelfth gear to stay ahead of the marauding dragons. A nasty laugh drifts up to them, and he very nearly snags a couple of incandescent tail feathers in his teeth. The male’s counter-move is to turn and face them while hovering backwards, his wings spread to full length; an intense sunburst issues from his body, blinding them so that they run flat into a tree. Cut to a close-up of Garble and tilt down to frame first Brown and then Purple, all having embedded themselves in the trunk. A frustrated growl floats down from the boss; cut to a long shot of all three.)
Garble: They got away! I hate that!
(The tree decides that now is the perfect time to fall over. Cut to a long shot of the fleeing family and tilt down to the scattered twigs and eggshell fragments that mark the remains of the nest. The lone egg rests on the ground; Spike walks up.)
Spike: Huh. What have we got here?
(He picks it up, whereupon the three vandals land facing him, having separated themselves from the timber.)
Spike: What happened?
Garble: They got away! (surprised) Hey. (leaning down to Spike) You stole an egg?
Spike: Uh…
Garble: Well, I guess the raid wasn’t a total waste after all.
(Brown and Purple cheer; he claps Spike on the back, causing him to almost drop the egg.)
Garble: Nice going, Spike. (Brown leans in close.)
Brown: Well, what are you waiting for, Spike? Smash it!
Spike: Smash the egg?
Brown: (laughing) Yeah!
Purple: Yeah! Throw it on the ground as hard as you can!
(Cut to his perspective, panning across the three as they laugh and start into a chant of “Smash it! Smash it! Smash it!”, then back to him. Uncertainty gives way to determination as he raises the egg overhead, ready to dash it against the rocks. The trio falls silent…the green eyes squeeze shut and reopen under a sweaty brow…they leer down at him…he tenses himself for the throw…and then he stares levelly up at them even as tears start to well up in his eyes.)
Spike: (yanking egg away) No! It’s just a defenseless egg, like I was! And I’m not gonna let you hurt it!
Garble: What did you say?
Spike: I said no!
Garble: (leaning threateningly over him) No one says no to me.
(He starts to back Spike up with a snarl; the little guy runs into something green and jeweled, with an eye peeking out through a hole. Pan/tilt up quickly to frame the multicolored back spines and the open mouth of the three mares’ disguise. Now, though, the spines and teeth both gleam viciously in the dim light, having been upgraded to rather sterner stuff than the original costume sported. Zoom out quickly to frame the whole thing, which throws off a burst of brilliant light that causes all three teens to yelp softly rethink the idea of attacking Spike, at least for a moment. It is then flung away; on the start of the next line, cut from Garble’s crew to the Ponyville contingent. All three ponies have their forelegs up, ready to slug it out; Twilight and Rarity stand on their hind legs, while Rainbow hovers above Spike’s head.)
Rainbow: Nopony’s gonna lay a claw on him! (Close-up of Twilight.)
Twilight: That’s right! (Pan to Rarity.)
Rarity: (smoothing her mane) Fighting’s not really my thing, I’m more into fashion… (with sudden ferocity) …but I’ll rip you to pieces if you touch one scale on his cute little head!
(Bewilderment gives way to a gale of mocking laughter.)
Garble: Ooh, scary! (chuckling) Spike, are these namby-pamby ponies your friends?
Spike: Yes! They are! And they’re better friends than you could ever be! (walking to Garble, jabbing a finger in his underbelly) Now, if you don’t back off, you’ll see what us ponies do when confronted by a huge group of jerky dragons!
Garble: Oh, yeah? (He snorts smoke into Spike’s face.) What’s that? (Pause.)
Spike: RUN AWAY!!
(Which he does with enough speed to break every Olympic record ever set, leaving only his frantic, echoing cries and Garble’s growl to mark his exit. The mares are quick to catch up, but the dragons waste no time in closing the gap from above. Twilight warms up her horn, a spot of white light appearing on her body and each of her friends’, but it quickly fizzles out. As the snarling red dragon bears down on the quartet, she has another go and teleports them all away in one swift flash. The dragons barrel ahead and o.s.; a crash, and they have wedged themselves into another tree, which promptly topples over.)
(Wipe to a clear patch of grassland outside the forest. A second flash goes off at this spot and clears to show the group emerging safely. While the others slow to a stop, Twilight crashes down on her belly and slides ahead as if trying to steal second base. Spike takes a moment to catch his breath; the egg is still unbroken.)
Spike: That was a close one. Thanks, you guys. (Twilight gets up.)
Twilight: Of course. What are friends for? (Close-up of Spike; zoom in slowly.)
Spike: You’re more than friends. (tearing up) You’re my family.
(Zoom out as all three give him a group hug and Rarity voices a happy little squeal, then dissolve to the sun in a clear blue sky.)
Spike: (voice over, dictating) “Dear Princess Celestia…”
(Birds fly across; during the next line, zoom out slowly until the camera has passed through a window of the library. Spike sits here, writing this message in the reading room.)
Spike: (voice over) “Seeing the Great Dragon Migration made me wonder what it meant to be a dragon. But now I realize that who I am is not the same as what I am.”
(The zoom continues until the phoenix egg comes into view in the foreground, resting in a cushioned basket on the floor.)
Spike: (voice over) “I may have been born a dragon, but Equestria and my pony friends…”
(Cut to a pan across a shelf of framed photos: Twilight as a filly, with the newly hatched Spike; the two in costume and dancing during Nightmare Night in “Luna Eclipsed”; Twilight, Rainbow, and Spike enjoying mugs of the Apple family’s cider; a picture of the six mares celebrating Twilight’s birthday in Canterlot in “Sweet and Elite,” with a scrap pasted in that shows Spike.)
Spike: (voice over) “…have taught me how to be kind, loyal, and true. I’m proud to call Ponyville my home, and to have my pony friends as my family.” (Back to him.) “Yours truly, Spike.”
(He looks up from the parchment; cut to the egg, which hatches right on cue. Unlike the other hatchlings and the adult phoenixes, this one is entirely deep yellow, with no orange or red plumage.)
Spike: (from o.s., affectionately) Aww… (He leans down to it and laughs.) Hey, welcome to the family, Pee-Wee! (It perches on his hand.) Stick with me. (rubbing his cheek against its head) I’ve got plenty to teach you about being a pony.
(“Iris out” to black.)
HURRICANE FLUTTERSHY
Written by Cindy Morrow
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Note: Unless specifically indicated otherwise, all mentions of ponies in this episode
refer to pegasi.
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a patch of tranquil daytime sky and tilt down to follow Rainbow Dash’s swooping, looping descent toward the town square. A close-up reveals a pair of saddlebags on her back.)
Rainbow: Calling all pegasus ponies! (tossing notices from the bags) Meeting tonight!
(They flutter to the ground, where assorted ponies give them a look; one lands in front of Derpy Hooves, another on Fluttershy’s head. When the latter pulls it off and reads, the contents send her into a panic and a full-speed retreat. She takes cover behind a barrel, near two violet-eyed mares who are perusing their own copies. On the left is Cloudchaser: spiky, white/light-blue mane/tail striped similar to a raccoon’s tail; mane carelessly tied back in a big loose ponytail, shooting-star cutie mark. Flitter stands on the right: light blue-green mane/tail, the former held back with a large pink bow, cutie mark of several dragonflies. Their coats are nearly the same shade of light blue-violet, Flitter’s being a bit lighter.)
Flitter: (reading) “Mandatory meeting for all Ponyville pegasi.” (Fluttershy zips away.)
Rainbow: Library tonight! Be cool or be mule!
(Pulling the bags off her back, she dumps the rest of her load over the street. Quite a few of them end up piled on and around a bucktoothed mule; Rainbow swings down to him.)
Rainbow: No offense. (She flies off.)
Mule: None taken.
(Dissolve to the exterior of the library, with a sizable crowd on its way in through the front door. Night has fallen, and all the windows glow with light; Rainbow greets the arrivals at the step.)
Rainbow: All right, go on in. Find a seat.
(After they have all done so, she glances in to do a quick head count—and is not entirely pleased with the result, judging from her exasperated groan. She flies away from the door and fixes her attention on a particular tree.)
Rainbow: You too, Fluttershy.
(Two slightly surprised blue-green eyes wink into existence on the trunk, which splits around its circumference at about a pony’s shoulder height. Fluttershy stands up, the top section balanced on her head and the “stump” around her body lifted clear to expose her hooves.)
Rainbow: (pushing her toward library) Come on, let’s go.
(Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: an old black-and-white film leader is displayed against the black screen, counting down to the start of the picture. It gives way to a rearing pony silhouette against a starry white field as the soundtrack comes on: bright, dramatic, a bit cheesy, marred by static due to the film’s age. The picture quality has suffered as well, with plenty of scratches and spots. From here, dissolve to a pencil drawing of a cloud above a patch of ground; it rains, the sun comes out, and plants grow as two ponies hover overhead. The overall effect is similar to a cheaply made educational film from the 1950s.)
Announcer: Every living thing depends on the life-giving nourishment of rainwater.
(Cut to a map of Equestria, including Cloudsdale; gray clouds pop out from here and drift over various locations to shower them.)
Announcer: And it is up to Cloudsdale to provide rain-filled clouds to every corner of Equestria.
(Cut to an earth pony silhouette; three thought bubbles with question marks appear around it. These change to display a fire hydrant, watering can, and faucet.)
Announcer: But how, one pony might ask, does Cloudsdale gather all this extra water?
(The screen goes blank on the end of this, after which a crudely drawn tornado spins up from the center and a thunderclap is heard.)
Announcer: Tornado power!
(A circle of ponies is seen flying in formation.)
Announcer: That’s right. Pegasi-driven tornado power.
(They do so over a pond, from which a tornado forms and extends up through their center.)
Announcer: A team of pegasi combine their wing power to create a jumbo tornado… (Tilt up; water shoots upward from its top.) …powerful enough to pull water out of the local reservoir… (Again; the water reaches Cloudsdale.) …and funnel it all the way up to Cloudsdale.
(The screen goes blank; now wings appear, one by one, to form an inverted triangle.)
Announcer: Remember, pegasi.
(Zoom out; many more wings appear as well as the camera zooms out. The number 800 superimposes itself, and Cloudsdale begins pumping out drenching clouds.)
Announcer: Your jumbo tornado must reach a minimum of eight hundred wing power to lift that water up to Cloudsdale.
(An earth pony thinks hard, a “?” balloon appearing overhead.)
Announcer: So the next time you’re wondering, “Where does all that extra rainwater come from?”, just remember—
(The presentation comes to an abrupt end when the film skips and burns away, leaving only a harsh square of white light from the projector. A confusion of voices is heard; cut to the library’s darkened reading room, where the film had been running on a screen set up in here. Once the lights come up, the camera cuts to Spike at the projector and zooms in slowly past the annoyed ponies glaring at him. Coils of film stock have sprung loose from the reels, littering the floor and winding around every part of his body.)
Spike: (shrugging) Uh…intermission? (Rainbow hovers in front of the screen.)
Rainbow: So, here’s the scoop. Cloudsdale has chosen our own Highland Reservoir as source of the rainwater they need for all of Equestria. And you know what that means. It means it’s up to Ponyville’s pegasi to bring that water up to Cloudsdale. (Excited murmuring from the crowd; Fluttershy, out of her tree disguise, registers unease.) Not only that…
(She pulls down a poster displaying several of the Wonderbolts in flight and Spitfire in close-up.)
Rainbow: …but Spitfire, captain of the Wonderbolts, will be here to oversee the water transfer and record our top tornado wind speed. Now last year…
(Next sheet: a small picture representing a city, with a bar graph displayed above it.)
Rainbow: …Fillydelphia broke the wind speed record with a top speed of nine hundred and ten wing power. But I think we can do better.
(Next sheet: same as the previous, but a village has been added, topped with a taller graph.)
Rainbow: I think we can get a top speed over a thousand! (More murmurs; more unease from Fluttershy.) If each and every pony trains and trains hard to get their wing power numbers up!
(A cough is heard from somewhere in the crowd; she points in its general direction.)
Rainbow: That coughing better be from a popcorn kernel, Thunderlane!
(Cut to a dark gray stallion with two-tone light gray mane/tail, the former cut in a Mohawk, and light brown eyes. His neighbors aim reproving/hostile looks at him; he grins sheepishly and throws a few shifty glances back.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Nopony’s getting sick on my watch! (Back to her.) So, are we gonna train hard?
Crowd: YEAH!!
Rainbow: Are we gonna be strong?
Crowd: YEAH!! (Fluttershy looks nervously about.)
Rainbow: Are we gonna be fast?
Crowd: YEAH!!
(The yellow pegasus is absent from this shot, but a tilt down to ground level reveals her huddled on the floorboards, covering her eyes. Now the boss goes nose to nose with Bulk Biceps, seen in close-up: an overmuscled white stallion sporting a buzz-cut blond mane, crazed red eyes, a barbell cutie mark, a gold earring, and tiny wings that are laughably out of proportion to the rest of him.)
Rainbow: Record-smashing fast?
Bulk: YEAH!!
(She backs off before his yell. Cut to an extreme close-up of her at the screen/board and zoom out.)
Rainbow: Who’s with me?
(Every single equine in the place, judging from the crowd response. She grins at the effect of her pep talk, but lets it turn into a grimace upon noticing an empty patch of floor where Fluttershy had been standing.)
Rainbow: (softly) Fluttershy!
(Dissolve to a running track that has been set up in the meadowlands outside Ponyville proper. It is daytime. Several ponies are engaged in various exercises, and Rainbow—wearing a baseball cap and whistle—walks past a few who are limbering up.)
Rainbow: Stretch those glutes, Flitter!…Nice flexibility, Cloudchaser!…A little too much flexibility, Blossomforth…Uh, somepony give Blossomforth a hoof…Let’s see some faster trotting, Thunderlane!…Good pace, Silverspeed!
(Blossomforth, a blue-eyed, gray-white mare with birdcatcher spots, a green/pink-striped mane/tail, and a flower cutie mark, has somehow wound up with one foreleg folded up behind her shoulders. Thunderlane’s cutie mark, previously covered by his wings, is now seen as a lightning bolt issuing from a gray cloud. Rainbow blows her whistle as one pony lifts a barbell with wings alone.)
Rainbow: Keep it up! We’re gonna need all the wing power we can get to break that record!
Bulk: (pumping a hoof) YEAH!! (He snorts out steam.)
Rainbow: Good work , everypony! (sighing, to herself; zoom in) Everypony except Fluttershy.
(The big lunk’s gesture has shown the tips of his hooves to be the same blond color as his mane. Dissolve to the exterior of Fluttershy’s cottage; Rainbow knocks at the front door.)
Rainbow: Fluttershy, I know you’re in there! You’re avoiding tornado duty and I want to know why! Fluttershy, open—
(The door swings open just enough to give her a view of one blue-green eye and a sliver of face that is covered with nasty red spots. Fluttershy soon steps out, dressed in a bathrobe and sporting a healthy crop of pustules. She puts on her best “sick” expression and voice, both of which are far-from convincing.)
Fluttershy: Ah-choo. Hi, Rainbow Dash. (Cough.)
Rainbow: Fluttershy, what happened to you?
Fluttershy: Oh, I… (Sniffle.) I think I have… (Cough.) …the pony pox. (slumping against doorframe) I’m sorry. I really, really wanted to come to Training Day today… (She collapses with a sigh, then stands up.) …but this pony pox has really knocked me for a loop. Ah-choo. (Back up; cough.)
(Inside, the coach leans through for a closer look.)
Rainbow: Oh, you poor thing! You know, there’s only one cure for pony pox. (Close-up of Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: (nodding) I know. Plenty of bed—
(A hard bolt of water comes down over her, eliciting a sputtering cry and leaving her with a faceful of red ink dribbles—the spots were painted on. Zoom out to frame Rainbow hovering nearby and holding a now-empty bucket.)
Rainbow: Cold water! (Cut to Fluttershy’s hooves; she continues o.s.) Those pony pox are clearing right up.
(The dripping malingerer pulls in a soft gasp at having been bowled out so easily; the last of the ink is dripping off her hooves.)
Fluttershy: You know, all of a sudden I’m…I’m starting to feel better. I… (backing up) …I’ll just get out of these robes and… (She tumbles to the floor.) Ow! Oh, my wing. Oh, ow. It’s hurt. I guess I can’t fly after—
(For the record, she is doing an even worse job of faking this injury than she was with the pony pox. The farce ends when Rainbow blows her whistle directly into Fluttershy’s face, scaring her out of the robe with a scream; cut to her, now hovering near the ceiling.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Messed-up wing, huh? (Fluttershy smiles, shrugs, and descends to her.) Stop horsing around, Fluttershy. We’ve got a lot of training to do. Come on, now. (laying a foreleg over Fluttershy’s shoulders) What’s going on?
Fluttershy: Well, you see, uh, well…oh, Rainbow Dash! (hugging one blue foreleg) I just can’t do it! I can’t fly!
Rainbow: (lifting off o.s.) What are you talking about? (swooping down past Fluttershy) Just last week you went into that wicked nosedive to save that falling baby bird right before it hit the ground.
Fluttershy: But that was different. That was an emergency. This whole tornado thing—it’s more like a performance, and you know how I hate performing in front of others. Don’t you remember flight camp? (walking away from Rainbow) I couldn’t gallop hard or fly fast, not with everypony looking at me.
(Head-on view of her; the focus is on Rainbow in the background.)
Rainbow: It wasn’t that bad. (Focus shifts to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: You’re right, Rainbow Dash. (A wavering dissolve begins.) It wasn’t bad.
(The view resolves into the two as fillies, standing on a cloud along with a coach stallion in red shirt and cap, whistle around neck. Both have their cutie marks, indicating that this flashback takes place sometime after “The Cutie Mark Chronicles.” Filly Fluttershy stands nervously at the edge.)
Fluttershy: (voice over) It was horrible!
(With the wind picking up, the yellow flyer can only manage a few stammering whimpers as she looks down, the camera cutting briefly to the vertigo-inducing drop before her and back again. At the end of this drop is a large cloud marked by a ring of indeterminate smudges that can only be other colts and fillies. Her pupils/irises contract to terror-stricken points before the coach boots her off the cloud. She flails crazily in midair, gravity being asleep at the switch for the moment, and comes out in a spreadeagle position with her wings locked tight to her flanks. Down she goes, slap into the center of the cloud and the other youngsters.)
Fluttershy: (voice over) All the other foals used to tease me… (The wisps clear.) …a lot!
Foals: (mockingly) Fluttershy, Fluttershy, Fluttershy can’t hardly fly!
(Filly Fluttershy squeezes her eyes shut and mashes her front hooves into her ears to block out the repeating taunt. Wavering dissolve back to the present; now she has knelt before Rainbow and reached up to grab the master flyer’s shoulders.)
Fluttershy: Oh, I just can’t risk that sort of humiliation again! (Rainbow pushes her back.)
Rainbow: Suck it up, Fluttershy! This is no time for… (gentler tone) …I mean…confidence or no confidence… (Zoom in slowly.) …I’m gonna need every pegasus to break the record, including you. I need every ounce of wing power I can get.
(She reaches out to lift Fluttershy’s chin, but the latter pushes the foreleg away.)
Fluttershy: Oh…I-I don’t think so, Rainbow Dash. (Rainbow sighs and flies toward the door.)
Rainbow: Thanks anyway. (Close-up of her dejected face.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Wait! (Zoom out to frame both; Rainbow stops.) I’ll do it.
(The blue pegasus zips back to her, instantly all smiles.)
Rainbow: You will?
Fluttershy: I will.
Rainbow: You’re game?
Fluttershy: I’m game.
(Now Rainbow is so elated that she grabs Fluttershy up and swoops her all around the cottage.)
Rainbow: All right!
(Once the victory lap stops, the camera zooms in to a close-up of Fluttershy’s forced half-grin/half-grimace. Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to the running track during the day. Several ponies are gathered at one end of the infield, Twilight Sparkle and Spike near the middle, and another group watches at the outer edge. From this distance, Twilight has what appears to be a four-bladed desk fan set up on the grass; Cloudchaser and Flitter are nearby, watching. In close-up, the device is revealed to have a small gauge mounted at its base. The unicorn gives the blades a spin as Spike jots in a notepad and the two watchers step closer.)
Cloudchaser: (pointing) What exactly does this machine do?
Twilight: (proudly) This is an anemometer. (Close-up of the blades, tilting down; she continues o.s.) It measures your accelerative velocity and translates it into wing power… (Cut to the confounded pair.) …thus gauging your cumulative H2O anti-gravitational potential.
(The tech-savvy unicorn beams at her own brilliance and taps her front hooves together.)
Twilight: Any other questions?
Flitter: Yeah. (She and Cloudchaser turn to Spike.) What exactly does this machine do?
Spike: (a bit irritated) It tells you how fast you’re flying and how strong your wings are.
(A general “oh, now I get it” reaction from the crowd leaves Twilight fuming to herself, plain English having won the day over jargon. There comes a distant cough—Thunderlane’s, judging from the sound of it—and the unicorn looks over the others’ heads. A can of disinfectant spray floats up under her control and out toward the noise.)
Twilight: Is that you again, Thunderlane? (Cut to him; she continues o.s. while spraying him.) Please! We need to have a germ-free environment! (It floats back.)
Thunderlane: It wasn’t me! (pointing to Blossomforth) It was Blossomforth! (Rainbow arrives.)
Rainbow: Don’t worry, Twilight. Thunderlane’s just cooking up an excuse to spend Tornado Day in bed. (pointing toward him) Why don’t you get over here and be our first test flyer, Thunderlane?
(Cut back to him on the end of this; shooting Blossomforth a dirty look, he flies off. A feather falls off one wing as the latter coughs a bit. Thunderlane touches down at the starting line, drops into a crouch, and gets his wings cranked up; when he rockets ahead, the anemometer spins wildly in his wake. Twilight leans down to check the gauge after it has stopped.)
Twilight: We have nine-point-three wing power! (He takes a bow for the appreciative crowd.)
Bulk: YEAH!! (Spike takes notes.)
Rainbow: Not bad, not bad.
(She flies to the line and cracks every joint and feather in her body to loosen up and takes off, shedding the cap and whistle. The anemometer spins nearly fast enough to lift off on its own, Spike fights to hang on to his notepad, and every pony and dragon in the area can barely hold his/her position in the gale-force winds. The sole exception is Fluttershy, who is steadily pushed backward and eventually thrown clear of the ground. Once things have calmed down, Twilight straightens up with her mane in total disarray.)
Twilight: Sixteen-point-five wing power! (Cut to the crowd; wild cheers erupt.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Now listen up!
(Cut to her hovering above them, with cap and whistle back in place.)
Rainbow: If each of you can get your numbers up to at least ten-point-oh wing power by the end of the week… (Pan across them; she continues o.s.) …we’ll no doubt set a new tornado speed record! (Back to her.) We’ll be number one!
(The cheering group flies off in all directions, exposing a huddled Fluttershy on the grass. Zoom in on her, then cut to the fired-up team and their coach hovering in the sky. Fluttershy tries a couple of half-hearted flaps as their shadows pass around her.)
(Dissolve to a close-up of the anemometer; one mare flies past, and the camera zooms out to frame a properly groomed Twilight and Spike at their posts by the track. Rainbow watches with a critical eye as the unicorn smiles at the gauge’s reading. A partial dissolve superimposes the notepad over the scene; as Spike jots down readings, the speed trials continue and the view behind it dissolves to a line of ponies advancing toward the track. The dissolve now completes itself and the pad fades from view; Fluttershy, last in line, runs into the stallion in front of her and topples backward. This one nearly maxes out the scale on his run, and Spike gives Rainbow a smug look when he shows her the list. A close-up of the page shows a value of 11.0 recorded next to a silhouette of his head—with Fluttershy’s immediately below it.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Impressive. (Tilt down to Fluttershy’s line.) Fluttershy! Your turn!
(Back to her, blowing the whistle and clapping her front hooves. The weak flyer slouches up to the line, her face telegraphing reluctance all over Equestria, and immediately gets a bad case of the shakes. As the others step a bit closer to the edge of the track and one filly eagerly gets her wings going, Fluttershy takes a deep breath and lifts off. The fact that she actually has some forward momentum comes as a happy surprise, but Cloudchaser and Flitter ruin the moment by pointing and laughing. Extreme close-up of the former’s mouth, panning to the latter’s and cutting to Fluttershy on the next line.)
Foals: (Fluttershy’s memory) Fluttershy, Fluttershy, Fluttershy can’t hardly fly!
(Panic takes hold and she slows to a glide just before reaching the anemometer. The blades turn only slowly for a few seconds; Twilight checks the gauge, but says nothing when Rainbow leans expectantly toward her. Cut to Fluttershy, who has touched down a bit farther along the track, facing away from the two. The next three lines are whispered.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Tell her. (Others gather in.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) No, you tell her!
Twilight: (from o.s.) No, you! (They look toward Fluttershy.)
Rainbow: (normal volume) Um…great job, Fluttershy! You measured, uh…uh…
(Cut to the worried flyer.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) …point-five. Heh. (Fluttershy smiles; cut to the pair, hunched down together.)
Spike: (from o.s., disdainfully) Point-five? (Pan to him, quill behind ear.) Isn’t that like…like, less than one?
(Twilight whacks him upside the head, knocking the quill loose.)
Spike: Ow!
(The rest of the bunch slowly disperses as Fluttershy’s eyes shrink to points and the taunt plays in her mind again.)
Foals: (Fluttershy’s memory) Fluttershy, Fluttershy, Fluttershy can’t hardly fly!
(During the previous line, the camera cuts to an extreme close-up of one ear and zooms out to frame her petrified face and the other ponies arrayed behind her. The chant repeats and overlaps on itself while the camera tracks around her in a tight circle, the background going red and manifesting dozens of pairs of staring eyes that gather to form a tunnel. A sinister basso begins to laugh under the chant. When she can take no more of this horror, she gallops off; the track backdrop re-establishes itself and she races between Cloudchaser and Flitter, sobbing at every step with her mane blowing back over her face.)
(Pan back to Twilight, Rainbow, and Spike.)
Rainbow: Fluttershy, wait! (She flies off and catches up.) So some punks poked a little fun at you when you got stage fright. (She stops; Fluttershy gallops on.) Big deal. You aren’t gonna go quit just because of that, are you?
(Close-up of Fluttershy on the end of this line; she stops, back to the camera, then turns to face it. Tears are pouring from the blue-green eyes.)
Fluttershy: (sobbing) Yes!
Rainbow: But I need you!
Fluttershy: I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash. I just… (galloping away) …don’t have the courage right now.
(As she races across the meadow, the coach sinks to the ground and extends a forlorn foreleg after her, the camera zooming out slowly. Turning around, Rainbow kicks up a little dirt and plods toward the track.)
(Dissolve to a close-up of a stream bend as a squirrel jumps down into view and across a few lily pads, then tilt up. A small island marked by an old and twisted tree sits in the middle of the waterway; the squirrel hops over to it and along the edge. It is now later in the day, and quite a few other animals have gathered near the tree. The tardy squirrel moves in for a closer look; cut to just behind it and zoom in on a whimpering, inconsolable Fluttershy lying by the tree roots dead ahead. She is face down in the grass, with the critters ranged around her and her rabbit Angel combing out her mane.)
(A poke at one hind leg brings her head up, exposing a face streaked with tears and spotted with loose blades of grass, and the squirrel brings an acorn from its bulging cheeks and offers it up. Fluttershy sniffles and smiles, the vegetation falling away from her face.)
Fluttershy: Aw— (Cut to it; she pats the head and continues o.s.) —thank you, but I’m afraid a couple of little acorns won’t solve my big flying problem.
(Cut to Angel, now on top of her head. He points in another direction, from which a quack is heard, and Fluttershy looks over here. Zoom out to frame a duck and its two young nearby.)
Fluttershy: I tried, but…oh, you should’ve seen those ponies laughing at me!
(Close-up of two birds as they flutter down and each get a hank of her mane in their beaks to pull her up. Zoom out to frame her on the start of the next line; Angel is pushing her head up from behind.)
Fluttershy: I know it’s important to have confidence in myself.
(A badger standing on a tree root lets her have a piece of its mind.)
Fluttershy: Yes, yes. (Cut to it; she continues o.s.) I do remember. The river was swelling… (More chatter; it flops on its back.) …and you were scared. (It sits up and talks again.) Yes.
(Cut to her.)
Fluttershy: I did tell you to never give up… (pulling at face) …and to believe in yourself.
(Now it all falls together, her eyes widening as the camera pans slightly to frame Angel and company behind her. It takes her only another split second to find her nerve.)
Fluttershy: You’re right, my friends. (Cut to several of them; she continues o.s.) I shouldn’t give up. (Back to her; she rises into a hover.) I will get my confidence up and show everypony that I am a good flyer!
(The camera cuts briefly to the animals and back during this line, after which she launches herself straight up and breaks through the tree’s foliage to hover in clear sky.)
Fluttershy: A great flyer!
(The crowd cheers her on as best it can. Cut to a long shot of her above the island and zoom out slowly, then dissolve to a close-up of her hooves trotting in place on the grass. Each foreleg now bears a red/white striped sweatband, each hind one a white leg warmer with red trim at the lower edge. A longer shot frames her and several animals by the stream; she has also donned a red/white-striped headband, and Angel wears a coach’s cap and whistle.)
(At the white rabbit’s whistle, the yellow trainee lifts off and starts into a pass over the others, who don masks in the likenesses of other ponies at the tryouts. Fluttershy panics and claps her hooves over her eyes while sailing o.s.; a crash, and the camera pans ahead to show her now embedded in the tree she has just hit. As soon as she takes in the scope of her blunder, her eyes shrink to points and she covers them again.)
(Close-up of a mouse being lifted into view, then zoom out. It is standing on Fluttershy’s back as she does push-ups using her wings and the other animals watch. As soon as they clap on their masks, she loses her cool and hits the ground. The next shot frames a section of rope being stretched taut, with a red pennant attached to it, and a cut to one end shows a butterfly pulling at full strength. The rope extends over a mud pit; pan to Fluttershy, flapping and straining mightily on the other end. When she sees the masked observers before her, she stops pulling and instantly gets yanked backwards into the mud. From here on in, all observing animals wear the masks.)
(Now, cleaned up again, she leans down to Angel with a fiercely determined look. At his whistle, she lifts off and zooms ahead past the crowd and a dandelion with a full head of seeds—only one of which flutters loose from her passage. She does push-ups again with the mouse on her back, this time in a puddle of water; although she silently cries out, she keeps her wings pumping. To the tug-of-war again, set up in the grass rather than the mud pit; now, though, it takes three butterflies rather than one to drag her over the centerline.)
(Her next dandelion speed trial blows all the seeds loose, and when the push-ups resume, there are two mice and a squirrel on her back. Also, she is now using only one feather on each wing to support their weight and hers. A tear starts to run from one eye as one mouse unmasks—and then it sucks itself right back up where it came from as she grimaces with pain and determination. The fierce look gives way to a huge grin. Back to the tug-of-war; now she swiftly yanks the rope to her side, sending a small flock of butterflies winging away from the other. A few small thuds mark their impact with an o.s. tree, prompting her to fly up and look worriedly after them—only to find both the insects and several birds cheering her success. Fluttershy beams and blushes at the response.)
(One more speed trial strips the seeds off an entire patch of dandelions, and a grinning Angel pops up to root her on. Cut to an extreme close-up of one seed floating past the trainee’s identical grin and zoom out. She does one lazy twirl amid the scatter of drifting seeds, smiles gratefully down at the unmasked animals, and silhouettes herself against the sun with one foreleg extended in a dramatic pose.)
(Dissolve to a knot of ponies standing alongside the track. Flitter zooms past them, Twilight, Rainbow, and Spike for another speed run.)
Twilight: (checking anemometer) That’s wonderful, Flitter. Much better than yesterday.
Rainbow: This is crazy awesome! We’re gonna smash that record!
(A squirrel chitters, points, and nudges at Twilight’s leg.)
Spike: What did he say?
Twilight: Do I look like I speak squirrel? (It carries on.)
Spike: (shielding eyes, peering into distance) What’s that?
(The two mares follow his gaze. “That” is Fluttershy, flying in with the sun at her back and her training crew running/flying to keep pace. She has removed her workout gear, Angel has shed his cap and whistle, and the entourage passes all the ponies and settles down behind the starting line. Angel and a ferret massage her forelegs as she glares resolutely ahead; after they have backed off, she starts her engines and barrels ahead, flapping as if her life depended on it. The anemometer spins at a lively clip—but a close-up of the gauge shows that the needle has topped out barely halfway to the first mark.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Two-point-three? (shocked) Two-point-three? (Cut to frame her backing away from it.) That has to be some kind of mistake! I worked so hard!
Twilight: Fluttershy… (Close-up of Fluttershy, tears in eyes; Twilight continues o.s., lifting her head.) …that’s a huge improvement!
Rainbow: (nudging her) You did awesome, Fluttershy!
(Zoom out on the start of the previous line to frame Rainbow hovering behind.)
Fluttershy: No, I didn’t! (backing away a bit) I thought I’d gotten over my nerves, but they still got the best of me! There’s no way I’ll fly with ten-point-oh wing power tomorrow! (Rainbow drops next to her.)
Rainbow: So you won’t fly with ten-point-oh wing power. (nudging her) Every bit counts.
Fluttershy: (bitterly) How would you feel if everypony else was flying with ten-point-oh wing power and you were flying with two-point-five?
Spike: (checking notepad) Actually, it was only two-point-three and— (Twilight whacks him in the head.) Ow!
(The hit leaves his head spines slightly askew, and she gives him a “zip it” gesture. Rainbow pulls her cap off uncertainly.)
Rainbow: Well, uh…I’d feel, um…
Fluttershy: Exactly! Humiliated! (sobbing, walking off) I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash. I just can’t do it!
(The walk has turned into a trot by this point; all the animals chase after her.)
Spike: It’s okay, Rainbow Dash. You still got plenty of wing power for your tornado. You’ll be able to lift tons of water up to Cloudsdale!
(The end of this is accompanied by an upward-pointing finger. Deciding that this attempt at encouragement is getting absolutely nowhere, Twilight magically hoists him up by the raised digit and exits. Rainbow puts her cap back on with a weary sigh; cut to a long shot of her and zoom out slowly as other ponies fly past behind her.)
Rainbow: If only there was a way to lift Fluttershy out of the dumps.
(Snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a large, stone-lined pond—the Highland Reservoir—situated well outside Ponyville. It is daybreak, and Twilight, Rainbow, and Spike are gathered at the edge, along with a much larger version of the track anemometer. A long line of ponies stretches back toward the village. Tilt up quickly into the sky to frame Cloudsdale floating high above, with a tiny speck emerging to hurtle downward. It resolves into Spitfire; cut to ground level as she lands and the crowd cheers. Zoom out to put Rainbow in the fore, cap in hooves and a nervous smile on her face. She puts it back on, rearranges her demeanor for business, and lifts off to hover above the crew.)
Rainbow: Are we ready to do this?
Crowd: YEAH!!
(Twilight adds her voice to the multitude, and Rainbow lands as Spike comes running with his notepad. Close-up of her, about to blow the whistle until the dragon shoves the papers into view to stop her.)
Spike: (from o.s.) Look!
(A close-up of the page and tilt down shows a list of ponies’ heads, all of which are checked off except for one—Thunderlane, marked with an X. Rainbow’s mouth is left in view.)
Rainbow: Lazy Thunderlane! (Cut to her.) Where is he? He’s been trying to get out of tornado duty the whole time with his fake coughing and all. (eyeing the line) Rumble, where’s your lazy brother?
(On the end of this, pan away from and stop on a light gray colt with a short, swept-back, two-tone dark gray mane/tail. His eyes are violet, and he has no cutie mark.)
Rumble: He’s got the feather flu. He’s down at Ponyville Hospital.
(Spike holds up his pad, flipped to a different page that shows every pony but one X’ed.)
Spike: But he’s not the only one.
(The news flash drops a very large monkey wrench into Rainbow’s brain. Dissolve to a close-up of an abacus.)
Twilight: (from o.s., magically sliding beads) Let’s see. With those eight sick pegasi out with the feather flu… (She straightens up into view with a gasp.) …oh, no!
(Rainbow rushes up beside her, having ditched her cap and whistle for a pair of goggles propped on her forehead.)
Rainbow: Oh, no! Don’t tell me we won’t be able to break the wind speed record.
Twilight: No.
Rainbow: (toppling backward, relieved) Phew!
Twilight: You might not have enough wing power to create a tornado powerful enough to lift the water to Cloudsdale!
(Tilt up quickly to the sky city on the end of this, then cut back to the trio.)
Spike: (resignedly) Well, should we pack up?
(Rainbow glances toward the line, all of whose members are at a loss; pan from them to Spitfire, who checks a wristwatch on her foreleg with visible impatience. Long pause.)
Rainbow: No! Of course not! (pulling goggles over eyes) Forget the record. (flying up) Cloudsdale still needs water!
(Twilight and Spike hurry to their posts as she addresses the crew.)
Rainbow: Okay, everypony! Let’s give it all we’ve got!
(Cut to them, putting their own goggles on, then pan to frame Spike stationed at an oversized alpenhorn on the start of the next line. The thing is on wheels and has a pegasus-head/wings carving set into its front.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) On the sound of the horn, we take off!
(She glances down at Twilight, who flips switches on the back of the anemometer’s base and then waves across the way. The number-one assistant sucks in a few bushels of air and lets them go through the horn, producing a bellowing blast that starts the ponies into the air. Rainbow watches them fall into formation and fly in a tight circle to start a tornado forming; the wind kicks up and the measuring device squeaks to life.)
Spike: (to Twilight) You think they’re gonna make it to eight hundred wing power?
Twilight: I sure hope so. (Close-up of the gauge; she continues o.s. as the needle rises.) One hundred and fifty wing power! (Back to her.) Two hundred and fifty wing power!
(Inside the whirlwind, the flyers keep up the pace as Rainbow darts among them. Extreme close-up of the needle as it ticks past 500.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Five hundred wing power!
(The water surface is now doing the cha-cha, with droplets springing up from the surface due to the pressure differential. Now the wind is so strong that Twilight has to grab one end of the anemometer’s base to keep from being swept away; Spike digs his claws into the other, scoring the metal.)
Twilight: Seven hundred and fifty wing power!
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Twilight! (Cut to her, hunkered down amid the gales.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Fluttershy! (She is pushed back.) What are you doing here?
(The faulty yellow flyer ducks to avoid an uprooted tree.)
Fluttershy: (while being pushed back again) I figured, if I couldn’t help Rainbow Dash with the tornado… (walking forward on forelegs) …the least I could do was offer moral support! (Close-up of Twilight.)
Twilight: She could sure use it… (Zoom out; Fluttershy has now reached her.) …considering eight pegasi are sick with the feather flu!
Fluttershy: Oh, no! That’s terrible news!
(Now the funnel cloud is really grooving and the water responds, a column slowly rising out of the Reservoir. One pony falters and is thrown backwards, knocking into others and setting off a chain reaction of collisions that causes the entire affair to disintegrate in seconds. The water splashes back into the Reservoir, and Twilight, Fluttershy, and Spike all duck as Rainbow shoots past. A thud and grunt from o.s.; cut to her, face slammed into a tree trunk. Two circular chunks of wood fall away to expose her eyes, which bug all the way through the trunk as the rest of her crumples to the ground. Twilight and Fluttershy gallop over.)
Twilight: Are you okay?
Rainbow: (muffled, trying to pull loose) I’m fine!
Twilight: Oh, you were so close to the eight-hundred-wing-power minimum. I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash.
(She pouts to herself as the multicolored motorhead yanks free of the trunk and shakes her head clear. The goggles have come off.)
Rainbow: We’ve got to try again! (She takes off.)
Twilight: (telekinetically pulling her back by the tail) But you’ve pushed your crew to their limit already! (Rainbow hits the ground with a yelp.) If you break apart again, somepony could get hurt!
(Close-up of Rainbow on the end of this; a violet foreleg points across, and she follows it with her eyes. Pan to show ponies standing, sitting, lying all around and a couple in the water; some have clearly fared better than others.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) You should quit! It’s not safe! (Back to the pair; Rainbow knocks Twilight back.)
Rainbow: No! One more time! I gotta know we gave it our all! If I’m going down, I’m going down flying! (She lifts off and addresses the crowd.) Come on, ponies! Let’s make this happen!
(The crowd voices its hearty agreement…)
Bulk: YEAH!!
(…and the horn sounds off again. Spike watches with combined wonder and glee as the shadows glide over him and the squad quickly falls in. Close-up of the anemometer vanes as they start to turn, then tilt down to Twilight and Spike at the gauge on the start of the next line. Fluttershy continues to abstain.)
Twilight: Okay, here we go. (Needle moves; she calls overhead.) One hundred wing power!
(Extreme close-up of the display, now ticking up to 200.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Two hundred! (It rises to…) Five hundred!
(Within the tornado, Rainbow moves through the circling flyers; all have their goggles back on.)
Rainbow: Stay in position! Flap those wings! FASTER!! (Ground level; Twilight looks up, shielding her eyes.)
Twilight: Seven hundred!
(The whirlwind continues to churn above the Reservoir. Another close-up of the gauge, with the needle hovering at 750.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Seven hundred and fifty wing power!
(Fluttershy is flung backward by the maelstrom, slamming against the base and pinning Spike to it; Angel is clinging to her mane.)
Spike: (rubbing his head) They fell apart right after this!
Fluttershy: Oh, I’m too nervous to look! (She covers her eyes; cut to inside.)
Rainbow: Come on…just a little harder…
(Close-up of the water surface. As before , small droplets pop upward and a large mass begins to rise.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) I can see the water trying to funnel through! (The gauge, now just below 800.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Seven-ninety-five! (Cut to her.) They are so close! (Pan to frame Fluttershy as well; she has peeled away from Spike.) Fluttershy, they need you up there!
Fluttershy: I won’t make a difference!
Twilight: You can make a difference!
Fluttershy: My measly two-point-three wing power is still too little!
Spike: (eyeing gauge) It’s sticking at seven-ninety-five! I don’t know if they got any more in ’em!
Twilight: Do it for Equestria! Do it for Rainbow Dash!
(Close-up of the yellow non-flyer’s scrunched-up face and tight-shut, streaming eyes.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Do it for yourself!
(A pair of goggles is floated over to her; Fluttershy looks at them, then toward a beseeching Twilight with the deepest trepidation, and finally forces down a gulp. Putting the goggles on, she rushes to the edge of the Reservoir and sets Angel down. The high-velocity wind instantly blows him back to hit a nearby tree, and he slides down and waves encouragement with some of the other animals. As soon as Fluttershy extends one tentative hoof over the stone lip, she is sucked into the tornado with a yelp.)
(Inside, she is buffeted this way and that for some moments before getting herself moving in the right direction. Rainbow looks back over her shoulder and smiles upon catching sight of her friend; close-up of the anemometer gauge, whose needle starts to shift just a bit.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) It’s moving! (Cut to her and Spike.) She’s doing it!
(The two winged ponies continue their maneuvering; back to the gauge and still-inching needle.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Seven-ninety-eight! She’s surpassed her best wing power number!
(Back to her, all smiles, on the end of this. A very different story is now unfolding within, though; one pony after another passes Fluttershy, who begins to flag badly. Her ears perk up as the all-too-familiar taunt plays in her mind and images of three heads float before her—Cloudchaser, Flitter, and a stallion.)
Foals: (Fluttershy’s memory) Fluttershy, Fluttershy, Fluttershy can’t hardly fly!
(Now on the verge of a total meltdown, with the camp mates’ laughter ringing in her head, she claps hooves to eyes—then pulls them away with a sudden burst of anger.)
Fluttershy: NO!!
(The specters evaporate and she rockets ahead of the crew.)
Stallion: What was that?
Mare: I think it was Fluttershy!
(Extreme close-up of the gauge, zooming out slowly as the needle hits 800 to set off a beeper and flashing light set at this mark, then cut to within the cyclone. The water from the Reservoir has nearly reached the top of the tornado; outside, it bursts upward to form a long, graceful arc that touches down in a large hopper at the edge of Cloudsdale. Spitfire’s jaw hangs open in unadulterated disbelief as she lowers her goggles and Twilight and Spike jump happily, holding on to each other.)
Twilight: She did it! She did it! They all did it!
(They keep doing it until the last of the water has been sucked away. Spike then half-runs, half-jumps over to the horn and blows a note; the combination of his momentum and the wind causes the thing to roll away with him. In response, the tornado slowly dismantles itself, leaving a spiral of ponies to fly up and o.s.; they come down, cheering and stomping, and Rainbow joins them in short order. Her goggles are down around her neck, and she takes in the celebration for a second before looking up worriedly. Tilt up into the sky to frame Fluttershy—still flying in circles and evidently so amped up that the “stop” signal never registered with her. Only a cloud set in her way by Rainbow finally brings her to a halt.)
Rainbow: Whoa, girl, take it easy!
Fluttershy: Wha…what? Did we do it?
Rainbow: Yeah! We did it! (She hugs Fluttershy.) You did it!
(They trade a high five with their wings, laugh, and touch down next to Cloudchaser and Flitter. Fluttershy’s goggles are now down around her neck.)
Flitter: Great job, Fluttershy! That was awesome!
Cloudchaser: Yeah. We couldn’t have done it without you. (Pan to frame Spitfire on Rainbow’s other side, goggles now on forehead.)
Spitfire: Nice job, Rainbow Dash. (nudging her chest) You may not have set a new record, but you showed a lot of guts. (Close-up of Rainbow.)
Rainbow: Thanks! But if you want to talk guts, then you gotta give it to my number-one flyer. (Zoom out slightly; she gestures to…) Fluttershy!
(The mare of the hour manages a timid half-smile, then cringes at the volume with which Rainbow delivers her next line.)
Rainbow: Let’s hear it for Fluttershy!
(Close-up of Fluttershy, being tossed into the air.)
Crowd: (from o.s.) Fluttershy, Fluttershy, Fluttershy can really fly!
(Spike bounds merrily away, playing a small flute made from a forked tree branch. Twilight follows him, then Rainbow and Spitfire, and finally Fluttershy, smiling and waving as the cheering crowd carries her off.)
Fluttershy: (voice over, dictating) “Dear Princess Celestia: Sometimes you can feel like what you have to offer is too little to make a difference. But today, I learned that everypony’s contribution is important—” (Angel and the animals give her props.) “—no matter how small.” (The procession heads down the road.) “If you just keep your head high, do your best—” (Tilt up into the sky.) “—and believe in yourself, anything can happen.”
(The camera stops on Cloudsdale, whose weather machinery kicks on and begins to send out the first rain clouds of the season. Fade to black.)
PONYVILLE CONFIDENTIAL
Written by M.A. Larson
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a long overhead shot of Ponyville during the day. Zoom in slowly on the schoolhouse as its bell rings, then cut to a close-up of the building. The zoom continues to the sound of cheering and yells from inside, and the door bursts open to release a stampede of students. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle trudge glumly out after them and stop on the porch.)
Sweetie: (disgustedly, as Scootaloo collapses onto her belly) Can you believe Featherweight got his cutie mark? Featherweight! Before us!
(Cheers from o.s.; cut to a knot of foals clustered around a spindly-legged off-white pegasus colt with two-tone brown mane, a missing front tooth, and brown eyes. This is Featherweight, and a closer shot reveals his new mark to be a single white feather, which he proudly shows off.)
Snips: Great cutie mark, Featherweight!
Snails: (laughing) Looking good! (Scootaloo and Sweetie sigh heavily.)
Sweetie: I give up. (Apple Bloom peeks out, carrying a rolled-up newspaper.)
Bloom: I’ve got it!
(One cheerful bound carries her over the pair so that she lands facing them.)
Bloom: (tossing paper onto porch) The answer to all our problems!
(Back to the others on the end of this; the paper unrolls, and the camera cuts to a close-up of the front page and zooms in on the masthead. Prominently displayed are a photo of two foals who seem dissatisfied with their lunches and a line graph trending sharply downward.)
Sweetie: (from o.s.) The Foal Free Press? (Cut to frame all three.) How’s the school paper gonna get us our cutie marks?
(Bloom takes a breath to start explaining, but Granny Smith’s voice cuts in first.)
Granny: (from o.s.) Move your caboose!
Bloom: Uh-oh. That’s Granny Smith. Gotta run! (She gallops away; zoom in on the other two.)
Scootaloo: (flicking at paper) Maybe there’s something to this newspaper idea. (She picks it up in her teeth.)
Sweetie: I guess it’s worth a shot.
(“Iris in” to a close-up of it on a floor. Sweetie leans down and rips a page away with her teeth; in a longer shot, she and Scootaloo are wadding up the newsprint for packing material and filling a box. They are in the Carousel Boutique, and a slow zoom out frames Rarity alongside; she levitates a vase into the box, and the two fillies close the flaps. The nearby door is magically opened and the parcel floated out, and Scootaloo and Sweetie glance toward their rumps only to find unmarked hide. Both young faces fall at the lack of results.)
(Quick pan to Scootaloo as she gets her teeth onto one page and rips a strip loose, while Sweetie holds the paper. They are outside now, and a longer shot puts them underneath a bird’s nest whose occupant takes the strip and adds it in. Quite a few other bits of paper protrude here and there, suggesting that they have been at it for some time. Grin, check their haunches, no good.)
(Quick pan to a pair of hats, folded from the pages and sitting on their heads, then zoom out. They are piloting a boat made from the rest of the paper down a stream as Pinkie Pie watches from shore. A red pennant flies from the stern. The two lift their haunches into view to check for the sudden appearance of any sort of nautical cutie mark but are sorely disappointed—and then the boat sinks right along with their spirits.)
(“Iris out” to a close-up of Bloom reading the paper inside the Crusaders’ clubhouse. The focus is on her, but shifts to the door behind her as it bursts open to admit the other two—covered in mud and paper strips.)
Sweetie: Apple Bloom! Your newspaper idea was nothing but a big bust!
(Cut to just behind her on the end of this; Bloom turns to face her. The camera shifts back to the two filthy fillies on the start of the next line.)
Scootaloo: We tried everything from papier-mâché to making birds’ nests and nothing worked!
(Their comrade promptly bursts out laughing, which does very little to improve their sour mood.)
Sweetie: What’s so funny? (They cross to Bloom.)
Bloom: (tapping Sweetie’s forehead with paper) What I meant was, we should write for the paper!
(She gestures to a poster on the wall: a grinning filly wearing a gray fedora with a press card tucked in the band, a camera slung around her neck, and saddlebags that contain a notepad.)
Bloom: We can get our cutie marks as journalists!
(Realizing that they have completely missed the obvious, Scootaloo and Sweetie groan wearily and keel over in a shower of muddy paper strips. Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the schoolhouse during the day. Cheers from the students are heard.)
Cheerilee: (from inside) Okay, class, see you tomorrow!
(Close-up of the door on the end of this; it swings open and various class members head out.)
Cheerilee: Oh, for those of you who want to join the newspaper staff, stay here— (tapping desk) —because we’re meeting right now!
(The Crusaders and some others are still at their desks; cut to them. Scootaloo and Sweetie are now clean again after their varied mishaps in the prologue.)
Bloom: (to Scootaloo) Cutie marks in journalism!
Scootaloo: Such a good idea.
Cheerilee: (from o.s.) Welcome, everypony. (Back to her.) Now as you know, our editor-in-chief graduated last year.
Sweetie: (from o.s., raising a hoof) Oh, oh! (Cut to her.) Oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
Cheerilee: (from o.s.) Yes?
Sweetie: What’s an editor-in-chief? (Cheerilee again.)
Cheerilee: Good question, Sweetie Belle! I like those reporter’s instincts. (Sweetie smiles hugely; cut to frame the whole room and pan slowly.) The Foal Free Press is a student-run paper. I’m only involved as an advisor.
(Cut to a slow pan across the desks. Up front is Shady Daze, a light blue-gray earth pony colt with a two-tone dark blue mane, held back by a green eyeshade visor, and bright blue eyes. The pan frames Featherweight, Truffle Shuffle,and Ruby Pinch—unicorn filly, pink coat, two-tone darker pink mane, medium green eyes.)
Cheerilee: (from o.s.) So the editor-in-chief is the pony in charge, from choosing the stories to making sure it gets to press on time. (Bloom and Scootaloo trade a smile; back to her.) Now as I said… (gesturing toward door) …we have a new editor this year.
(Cut to it on the end of this; it is closed, but a silhouette with a familiar piece of headwear appears in the glass window. When the door swings open, there stands Diamond Tiara in all her snobby glory.)
Foals: Diamond Tiara?!?
Diamond: (walking in) Hmph!
Cheerilee: (walking out) I’ll leave you alone now to discuss everypony’s assignments. (Diamond sits at the front desk.) Have fun!
(Exit Cheerilee, pulling the door to. The moment the latch clicks, Diamond ditches her fake smile and leans over the desk.)
Diamond: All right, listen up!
(Jumping onto it, she bucks the wall, causing the projection screen hung over the blackboard to unroll and display a smirking photo of herself.)
Diamond: The Foal Free Press is a joke.
Foals: Huh?
Diamond: Nopony at this school takes it seriously.
(Cut to Truffle, who has donned a fez and a pair of reading glasses to peruse a copy.)
Diamond: (from o.s.) Well, I, the editor-in-chief in charge, am gonna deliver us to new-found glory!
(Back to her on the second half of this line. Total silence from the rest of the would-be staffers for a long moment. Truffle breaks it, having ditched his fez and specs.)
Truffle: Yaaay! (Cut to Diamond, a notebook now lying open before her.)
Diamond: First things first. Where’s the staff photographer?
(Cut to Featherweight, now with a camera slung around his neck, he smiles and waves timidly.)
Diamond: (from o.s.) Get out there and document everything. (Scared, he darts for the door.) I’ll decide what’s important.
(Cut to her, by the door, on the end of this; she slams it shut.)
Diamond: The rest of you, I want hard-hitting news and interesting think pieces!
(Cut to the bewildered group during this line, then back to her; she sits at the desk again.)
Diamond: No more namby-pamby stories like last year’s editor.
Ruby: But Namby-Pamby was a great editor!
Diamond: (closing her notebook) Well, there’s a new regime now, and I want juicy stories. The juicier, the better! (pointing to door) Now get out there and report!
(Another buck rolls the screen up before she heads for the exit.)
Scootaloo: Let’s get outta here, girls. Maybe we can try packing boxes again.
Sweetie: But this could be our last chance to earn our cutie marks. If we really are supposed to be journalists, isn’t it worth a little grief?
Scootaloo: I guess you’re right. We can take a little bit of Diamond Tiara for a lifetime of cutie marks.
Sweetie: (with gusto) Come on! Let’s go get those marks!
(“Iris in” to the exterior of the Carousel Boutique. During the next line, cut to Rarity at the sewing machine in her upper-story workspace/living area, pencil in teeth and pincushion on a strap around one foreleg. Sweetie pops up behind her, gray fedora on head, holding a notepad and biting down on her own pencil.)
Sweetie: (voice over) My first story’s gonna be an exclusive interview.
(Her tap at the pad is met with a mad dash across the room. Cut to the ground-floor showroom, where Rarity has set up a pony mannequin on the three-mirror platform and dressed it in a hat and gown that both sport plenty of peacock feathers. Sweetie is down here in a blink and plunks her haunches on a stool, waving to get a little attention; big sister smiles and fires up her horn to tuck a feather into the fedora’s ribbon, knocking the press card loose. Sweetie grimaces at the accessory change, but Rarity is in her element now and quickly levitates the entire outfit onto the aspiring reporter, who blushes mightily.)
(Pan quickly to a close-up of the paper-filled nest from the prologue, now occupied by three birds rather than one.)
Scootaloo: (voice over) I saw a brand-new nest of baby birds the other day. I bet our readers would eat up a sweet story like that.
(On the line, zoom out to frame her perched nearby on a branch—hat, press card, notepad, pencil. She writes a bit, but drops the pad, then the pencil, then herself; a splat of mud drifts up as her hat slowly floats down after her and settles back on her head. Down comes the birds’ laughter, due in no small part to the fact that her frantically beating wings have done no good in keeping her aloft or lifting her out of the puddle. She too blushes.)
(Pan quickly to Bloom at home in the Sweet Apple Acres barn, wearing a hat and press card of her own. She and Granny sit side by side on a couch, looking at a photo album; the elderly pony laughs over the memories, but Bloom seems a trifle impatient.)
Bloom: (voice over) Granny Smith has all sorts of great stories.
(She gets her cheeks pinched, then pulls out a book with a map of Equestria on its cover as Granny puts the album away.)
Bloom: (voice over) I reckon I’ll do a piece on the history of Ponyville.
(Her tome is knocked away in favor of another album, which proves to contain a picture of baby Bloom wearing diapers on rump and head. A different one shows her getting a bath; yet another has a picture of Applejack’s dog Winona yanking her diaper down on its cover. Bloom’s jaw drops almost to her knees, and she blushes while pulling her hat down to cover her face.)
(“Iris out” to the exterior of the schoolhouse, zooming in slowly, then dissolve to a close-up of an open basement window just above ground level. The zoom continues to the sound of typing, and the view dissolves to an overhead shot of the basement and zooms in toward Diamond at one end. She sits in a high-backed chair behind a desk and has put the photo of herself on the wall. A layout table stands in one corner, Shady squirts ink into a printing press, and Ruby and Truffle are busy at the typewriters. The floor and machinery are liberally besmirched with pigment, as are Shady and the apron he wears.)
(Here come the Crusaders, properly cleaned/groomed and with hats and saddlebags back in place. They stop in front of Diamond’s desk.)
Diamond: I hope you’ve got something, because everything so far is unusable. (A stack of pages is tossed up to her; she reads.) “Baby Birds Born”? “Rarity’s Hot New Hat”? (Cut to the trio; she continues o.s.) “Ponyville: The Early Years”?
(Back to the editor-in-chief, who shoves the pages away with a cry of revulsion and jumps over the desk to back them across the room.)
Diamond: I don’t know what you call this, but it sure isn’t news!
Sweetie: (nervously) We just thought— (They run into the wall.)
Diamond: Get something else on my desk by the end of the day, and it better be juicy!
(Cut to the schoolhouse lawn. A storm-cellar door next to the basement window bursts open and the three writers are flung bodily out onto the grass without any of their gear. The crash landing leaves all three badly dazed; their hats and notepads are thrown out after them.)
Scootaloo: Now what? Do you know what I had to do to get that story? (Bloom stands up; Featherweight zips in and takes a few pictures farther back.)
Bloom: Oh, you don’t even want to know what I had to sit through.
(A couple of grunting cries from the o.s. Snips shakes them back to the moment, and Sweetie trots off for a closer look.)
Snips: (from o.s.) Oh, get it off me, Snails! (The latter’s shadow is seen on the wall.)
Snails: (from o.s., grunting) You get it off me, Snips!
(Cut to Sweetie’s perspective, approaching the corner; Snails comes partially into view around it. Another cry from Snips.)
Snips: (from o.s.) Stop it! You are making it worse!
(Back to her, registering sudden surprise, then cut to the two colts. A large wad of chewed bubble gum has them glued tail to tail; they pull against it as Snips slaps at it with a foreleg. This only deposits some of the gunk on that hoof.)
Snips: (disgustedly) Aw, great!
Snails: I’ll get it.
(He bucks Snips in the rump, driving him away only to snap right back; the attempt puts gum on Snails’ rear hooves as well. The two wind up glued back to back, and Snips cries out.)
Snails: Get it off! (Cut to Sweetie; he continues o.s.) GET IT OFF!!
Sweetie: (giggling, beckoning) Hey, Featherweight!
(Cut to Featherweight, who is snapping shots of a squirrel sitting in a tree’s hollow trunk.)
Sweetie: (from o.s.) Come here! (Giggle; he gallops over. Cut to both.) Take a few pictures of this, then meet me during lunch.
(She ducks away and he puts his camera to work. Now she rejoins Bloom and Scootaloo, who have their hats on.)
Sweetie: Girls, I have our story!
(Snap to black, against which a new issue spins into view. The front page displays a full-color photo of the two unfortunate, annoyed colts, a large-font headline in red, and a “headshot”-style picture of the writer: a filly-head silhouette with a red question mark overlaid on it.)
Filly 1: (voice over, reading) “Snips and Snails and Bubble Gum Fails.”
(Cut to the speaker, reading the paper on a bench outside the schoolhouse. Another filly stands nearby; both are getting a good rise out of this account.)
Filly 1: “And that’s when the biggest jokester in school really stuck his hoof in it—literally!” (Pan across the lawn; others are reading. Laughter all around.)
Colt: The Foal Free Press is usually just boring news and stuff!
Filly 2: So funny!
(The camera reaches Snips and Snails, both stamping inked hoofprints onto the copies held by a line of their classmates. The bare patches in their coats tell of the way in which that gum was finally removed.)
Snips: Our mothers always told us we’d end up in the paper someday.
Snails: Yeah! (Both hold up their shaved rumps.) And look! (Close-up of these; they continue o.s.) We finally got the gum out!
(His laugh is followed by a flash of white, which clears to show the hairless hindquarters frozen in place. This shot lowered out of frame—the photo on the front page of a new issue—and behind it, the view wipes to the newspaper office. The camera points at the now-hatless Crusaders from across Diamond’s desk.)
Diamond: (from o.s.) Your column is a sensation!
(They smile; cut to frame this end of the room, with the printing press cranking out fresh copies.)
Diamond: I don’t want you doing news anymore. I want more columns like this. (Another round of smiles; she looks out at the full playground.) Columns about ponies and their private lives, the things they do when they think they’re alone. (She jumps down into her chair.) You three are my new gossip columnists!
(Back to them on the end of this; the smiles widen a notch or twelve and all six eyes positively shine with triumph.)
Diamond: And I love the way you signed it!
(Close-up of the “mystery” headshot.)
Diamond: (from o.s., pointing) “Gabby Gums”? (sighing happily) That was a stroke of genius! (Cut to the Crusaders.)
Sweetie: We couldn’t fit all of our names, so we decided to create one for all three of us.
Diamond: (pounding desk) Well, I want more Gabby Gums! Nice work, girls. (She turns to the wall.)
Scootaloo: But we sure seem to have a gift for gossip.
Sweetie: If we can write a few more of these Gabby Gums columns, we’ll earn our cutie marks for sure!
Crusaders: (jumping up) Woo-hoo!
(Extreme close-up of their three extended hooves slapping together for a high five, then cut to them at a picnic table on the schoolhouse lawn. Notepads and crumpled pages litter the surface, and a Thermos and steaming mug sit among the jumble. Their expressions and posture, and Scootaloo’s idle toying with a pencil, testify to the frustration that has set in across the board.)
Sweetie: Scootaloo… (Close-up of her, panning to Scootaloo.) …do you have anything?
Scootaloo: Nope. (Pan back to Sweetie.)
Sweetie: Apple Bloom? (To Bloom.)
Bloom: (sighing, flicking her pad’s blank pages) Sorry.
(Snips and Snails wave from beyond Scootaloo’s end of the table, having stuck themselves together tail to tail with a fresh wad of gum.)
Scootaloo: Let’s face it. Nothing very juicy happens at this school.
(The two boneheads try to pull apart but end up mired back to back, exactly as before.)
Sweetie: We’re doomed.
(Three faces fall and six ears droop. Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the Carousel Boutique. Zoom in slowly and cut to Rarity in the showroom; she levitates a stack of folded fabrics ahead of herself and crosses the floor. She trips and falls in close-up, the materials tumbling down in a heap, and a longer shot reveals the obstacle as one of Sweetie’s saddlebags when she shifts her legs. Close-up of this.)
Rarity: (from o.s., floating it up) Ohhh… (Cut to her.) …Sweetie Belle! Was she raised in a barn or something?
(The flap opens, revealing a rolled-up Foal Free Press; she gasps and smirks upon noticing it, then starts to ponder the matter.)
Rarity: Ooh…you really shouldn’t be snooping, Rarity. (She motions the bag away.) Oh, but it’s so much fun, Rarity.
(Tackling it out of the air, she comes up with the paper floating open before her eyes.)
Rarity: Hello…what’s this? (laughing) “Gum on Their Bum!” (Pan toward the stairs.) Too rich! (Sweetie comes down, irritated.)
Sweetie: Can you please keep it down with all the laughter? I’m trying to—
(Her eyes pop when she sees big sister reading merrily away.)
Sweetie: Hey! (Rarity yelps and rolls the paper, magicking it in and closing the flap.)
Rarity: I…I was just—
Sweetie: Are you snooping through my saddlebag?
(Close-up of Rarity’s nervous grin on the end of this. She shifts the bag behind herself, easing it from side to side to keep Sweetie from getting a clear view every time she tries to peek around. After a few rounds of this, the little unicorn slaps the big one’s horn, breaking the telekinesis and allowing her to snatch the bag in her teeth. Rarity ends up on her haunches and rubbing her horn. This break in the action ends when Sweetie drops the gear.)
Sweetie: (indignantly) How dare you!
Rarity: (smiling, floating paper up) Oh, but this Gabby Gums column is so funny! (She crosses the floor, reading.)
Sweetie: You actually like the school paper?
Rarity: It’s so much juicier than anything in the boring old Ponyville Express. (glancing back, with a small gasp) Could I borrow this to show my friends?
Sweetie: Your friends would want to read the Foal Free Press?
Rarity: Oh, they’d just love Gabby Gums! (Sweetie beams; zoom in. Rarity continues o.s.) Who is she, anyway? (Cut to frame both.) I’ve never heard of her before. Is she a new—
(She goes back to reading as she says this last and does not notice Sweetie’s hasty exit until the sound of the slamming door cuts her off. Cut to the exterior of the schoolhouse; Sweetie gallops up and skids to a walk before Bloom and Scootaloo.)
Sweetie: (pacing) We gave up too quickly, girls. Forget trying to squeeze stories out of this school. (Long overhead shot.) We need to expand!
(On this last word, the camera zooms out to frame all of Ponyville; the view then cuts back to the lawn. Featherweight walks around, taking pictures.)
Bloom: We could find all kinds of kinds of great gossip out there in Ponyville!
Sweetie: We’ll need to tell Featherweight to start working overtime.
(During this line, cut to his latest subject, a ladybug on a fence that gets snapped.)
Scootaloo: (as Crusaders head off) Sweetie Belle, you’re a genius!
(Dissolve to a busy stretch of marketplace stalls. All is quiet until a horrendous wailing rips the air to pieces; the shaking of the joke/novelty shop at the end of the street suggests the epicenter. Cut to the source—the Cake twins, both screaming up a storm in the jewelry shop as their parents hold them. Mr. Cake has Pound, while Mrs. Cake holds Pumpkin, and Mr. Cake’s haggard, stubble-faced appearance testifies to a rough stretch of parenting. So rough, in fact, that the babies’ tantrum has somehow managed to shake a building they are not even in.)
(A flash of white washes over the scene and turns it into a full-color photo on the Foal Free Press front page. During the next line, zoom out as the paper is lowered to show Diamond at her desk, savoring this latest scoop.)
Diamond: (reading) “Pound and Pumpkin Cake trip to the store ends in tears.” (The Crusaders stand before her; the printing press churns along.) Gabby Gums comes through again! (Truffle hurries in.)
Truffle: (out of breath) The Ponyville newsstand wants to carry the Foal Free Press! Ponies keep coming by and asking for it!
Diamond: Send ’em twenty copies! (Close-up of him; she continues o.s.) And if they run out of those, we’ll send ’em twenty more!
(He gallops out; she comes around to pace in front of the Crusaders. Zoom out slowly.)
Diamond: You three are doing a great job for this paper. (She stops at the door.) Keep those columns coming! (Exit.)
Scootaloo: This is great!
(Close-up of a three-way high five, then “iris in” to Sweetie at a desk. The pencil in her teeth jots notes on a page as Bloom looks on and Scootaloo dictates for a moment; soon the yellow filly smiles, whisks the story away, and plunks it into an IN box. Ruby and Truffle do their thing, as does Shady with a wipe of the brow, and Truffle gets a strap around the fresh copies and hauls them away. A moment later they are dropped onto a patch of grass, where eager readers snap them up in their teeth. “Iris out” to several avid readers—all full-grown mares, for the record—on an idle stretch of road; during the next line, pan to frame the spa.)
Rarity: (voice over, sighing happily) Oh, this is the life, isn’t it, girls?
(Cut to the hot-tub room inside. She, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, and Spike are relaxing on the lounge chairs in various ways. Twilight reads the Foal Free Press, a crimp secured on the pink streak in her tail; Applejack lies on her belly, a blanket draped over her; Spike has cucumber slices on his eyes; and Rarity—in her favorite robe, with a towel around her mane—is reading a copy of her own as Lotus looks after her. Fluttershy and Pinkie are in the tub, with manes wrapped in towels. Applejack does not wear her hat.)
Rarity: The best hooficure I’ve ever had! (Cut to Applejack, who gets a vigorous massage.)
Applejack: (voice vibrating) Yooouuu sssaid it. (Sigh; pan to Spike.)
Spike: Ahhhh…I don’t know if I’ve ever been so relaxed.
Rainbow Dash: (from o.s.) You guys!
(He sits bolt upright with a yell, the slices popping off his eyes and landing on hers as she gallops in, paper in teeth. This is set down on the floor.)
Rainbow: The new Gabby Gums just came out! “The Great and Powerful Trixie’s Secrets Revealed!”
Rarity: We already read that one, Rainbow Dash. Come on, relax, have a hooficure. (flopping down o.s., waving legs) It feels amazing.
(During this line, the speed demon pulls one slice off her face with her tongue and gulps it.)
Rainbow: Did you forget who you’re talking to? (Cut to a squinting Spike, then back as she continues.) The day I get a hooficure is the day I turn in my daredevil license. (Close-up of the paper on the floor; she continues o.s.) Besides, I haven’t read this Gabby Gums yet.
(She leans into view on the end of this and nips it up in her teeth; next, Spike reaches in to grab the cucumber slice still on her eye.)
Spike: (from o.s.) Well, do it quietly, will you?
(He opens her mouth and reaches in. Cut to him, having already replaced the first and slapping the other one—intact despite being swallowed—back on.)
Spike: (sighing impatiently) Some of us are trying to unwind. (Lotus puts another crimp in Twilight’s tail.)
Twilight: I like Gabby Gums too, but don’t you think she can be a little mean? (Applejack reads as well.)
Applejack: She’s not mean, Twilight, she’s a hoot.
(The unicorn finds herself staring straight at a picture of Princess Celestia—caught in the act of gorging herself on cake.)
Twilight: (reading) “Celestia Just Like Us”? (looking across) Gabby Gums doesn’t value anypony’s privacy. (Cut to Rarity on the end of this, getting a hoof filed.)
Rarity: Oh, lighten up, Twilight. (Lotus moves off.) It’s nothing but harmless gossip. (Zoom out; Pinkie pops up from the tub.)
Pinkie: Yeah, Twilight. I mean, listen to this one. (whipping out a paper with a splash, reading) “Mayor Not Naturally Gray.”
(She holds it up in front of herself, framing a photo of Mayor Mare and the gray dye she is applying to cover her mane’s natural color. Said color happens to be bright pink.)
Pinkie: (giddily) “The Mayor in a mane-dyeing scandal”? (lowering it) Who wouldn’t want to read that?
(Twilight now has all four legs stretched over one side of her chair and slotted into a support board for her own bit of maintenance.)
Twilight: I just can’t help feeling sorry for the ponies featured in her columns. (Lotus applies some polish.) It’s gotta be a little embarrassing.
Rainbow: Are you kidding? Do you know how awesome it is to get your name in the paper?
Rarity: (from o.s.) Rainbow… (Cut to her, getting another hoof filed.) …why don’t you join me in one of these delicious hooficures?
(Twilight rolls her eyes good-humoredly and smiles toward Rainbow.)
Rainbow: It’s that good, huh? (Twilight nods; Rainbow steps off; Featherweight peeks in.) Well, maybe just one little hoof.
(The focus shifts to the small pegasus before the camera cuts to an empty lounge chair next to Rarity. Rainbow flops down on her back and stretches out; every time Lotus tries to get a file near a rear hoof, she twitches one or both of them out of the way. A cut to the head end reveals that the pony who pulled off two Sonic Rainbooms is chewing her lower lip and shaking all over as if the file were a red-hot branding iron. Before its tip can make contact, she jumps up off the chair with a yell and hovers above it.)
Rainbow: Forget it. I don’t like ponies touching my hooves. (She flies off to the dropped paper.) Man. I’d love it if Gabby Gums did a story on me.
Spike: She did one on me. (All six instantly gather around her.)
Ponies: WHAT?!?
(Their sudden attention scares the cucumbers off his eyes and a cry from his mouth. Cut to the exterior of the schoolhouse and zoom in slowly.)
Bloom: (from inside) Exclusive!
(Close-up of a sheet with some text and a photo of Spike taped on—doing his best ladies’-dragon impression: fez, velvet bathrobe, pipe emitting bubbles.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) “Local Dragon Tells All.” (Zoom out; the Crusaders stand before Diamond’s desk. The sheet falls onto it.) “Spike opens up about Canterlot, naps, and his favorite jams.”
Scootaloo: It’s our best column yet!
(Side view of them and Diamond, in her chair.)
Diamond: (jumping on desk) More like your worst column yet! (Cut to them; she continues o.s., grabbing the page,) Gabby Gums didn’t become the biggest thing in Ponyville with namby-pamby stories like this!
(She throws it in their faces on the end of this and stalks out, the door closing to black out the screen. Snap immediately to the wincing trio.)
Bloom: (sighing sadly) Yeah, she’s right. This column is a little softer than our usual gossip.
Sweetie: Were you guys feeling guilty about all the gossip too? Like maybe we could be hurting other ponies’ feelings?
Bloom: Yeah. I didn’t want to say anything because everypony loves Gabby Gums so much, but… (all looking at page) …I was sorta hopin’ we could start writin’ more stories like this one.
Scootaloo: Me too.
(Sweetie picks it up in her mouth, drops it into a trash can, and addresses the others resolutely.)
Sweetie: If we’re gonna get our cutie marks, we’ve got to give the ponies what they want.
(Each raises a reluctant hoof; extreme close-up of the three.)
Crusaders: (from o.s., tapping them together) Awww…
(Definitely the least enthusiastic high-five they have ever exchanged. Cut to a newspaper spinning up against a black screen; its front-page photo shows Applejack snoozing under a tree.)
Applejack: (voice over, reading) “Applejack Asleep on the Job!”
(During this line, the paper is pulled away to expose the shop floor of Sugarcube Corner. She trots angrily across, her hat back on; all but Rainbow are sitting around behind her, and Pinkie and Rarity have copies. All five have shed their various spa trappings.)
Applejack: Can y’all believe this? (pointing down) And this one! (Close-up of a copy; she flips a page and reads o.s.) “Big Macintosh: What’s He Hidin’?”
(The fresh page shows a picture of the red stallion with Twilight’s old Smarty Pants doll on his grip—a holdover from “Lesson Zero.” Back to Applejack.)
Applejack: Who the hay does this Gabby Gums think she is?
Twilight: (levitating another one) Listen to this one.
(The move brings up a photo of herself pontificating over a book in the library. Zoom in on it during the following.)
Twilight: (reading) “Twilight Sparkle: I Was a Canterlot Snob.” (Back to her.) “A well-placed, scaly source close to the prissy pony says Twilight Sparkle thinks Ponyville is nothing but muddy roads and low-class rubes.” (She rounds on…) Spike!
(Standing by the front door, he is so surprised by her outburst that he yells and belches fire over the paper in his hands. Nothing is left but a charred ball.)
Twilight: How could you say such a thing?
Spike: Well, I-I didn’t! (grabbing a piece, reading) Gabby Gums made that up! I never said anything like that!
Rarity: Everypony, please! She’s just a harmless schoolpony engaged in a little idle gossip. (Zoom in; she and Pinkie read.) You’re really making too big a deal out of this. (Twilight crosses to her.)
Twilight: But it’s all lies! (warming up horn) Gabby Gums prints whatever she wants. (Close-up of a paper falling on the table; she continues o.s.) She doesn’t care whose reputation she destroys!
(A magic page turn brings up a profile shot of Fluttershy, with several red arrows pointing at her tail—which appears to be rather longer than normal. Zoom in on this.)
Twilight: (from o.s., reading) “Fluttershy Has Tail Extensions!”
(Back to her, Rarity, and Fluttershy on the end of this. The pegasus is so mortified that she silently sinks from view behind a ledge. The camera then cuts to the paper and zooms in as Twilight magically flips another page; this time, the photo subject is Pinkie, standing in a full punchbowl with a lampshade on her head. A party is in full swing, but a horrified Lily is trying to flee the scene.)
Twilight: (from o.s., reading) “Pinkie Pie Is an Out-of-Control Party Animal!”
Pinkie: (from o.s., yanking paper away) What?!?
(Cut to her, eyeing a copy on the floor; she stands up on her hind legs.)
Pinkie: (sobbing) It’s true! (huddling down, crying waterfalls) I do have a problem! (Twilight floats a paper up; Applejack and Fluttershy eye it with her.)
Twilight: (very snarky) Oh, look. According to this one, the Cakes are breaking up! (Mr. and Mrs. Cake zip in; she holds a tray of cupcakes. He is clean-shaven.)
Mrs. Cake: We are?
(A loud crash from o.s. is followed by a pan to the door, which has just been knocked off the hinges by Rainbow and the huge mound of papers she is carrying.)
Rainbow: (slightly muffled, thumping down on floor) Well, my life is officially over! (She pops her head out.) Gabby Gums has made it to Cloudsdale!
(Tilt down to a close-up of the paper in her hooves; it bears a picture of her during Lotus’ attempted hoof-filing in the spa. However, she is smiling, suggesting that Featherweight either doctored it or snapped at just the right moment to capture that expression.)
Twilight: (from o.s., reading) “Rainbow Dash: Speed Demon or Super Softie?” (Cut to frame both.)
Rainbow: I grabbed as many copies as I could… (sliding down the pile) …but it was too late! (distraught) I’m a laughingstock! (She drops o.s.)
Twilight: (over her shoulder) See, Rarity? Your so-called harmless gossip can be very hurtful!
(Cut to the still-unconvinced white unicorn during this line.)
Rarity: Honestly, you ponies have no sense of humor. (eyeing a flattering photo of herself) So she tweaks a few ponies every now and then. (Page turn.) Maybe they deser—
(She shifts into a pop-eyed gasp upon noticing the picture: herself, sprawled out on her favorite fainting couch and in full meltdown mode. The background goes red.)
Rarity: I’ll destroy her! (Normal background; she reads closely as all but Rainbow gather.) “The Drama Queen Diaries.” She’s reprinted my diary! How could Gabby Gums possibly get access to my private diary?
Twilight: We’ve got to put a stop to this once and for all! (to Rarity) Sweetie Belle’s on the newspaper staff. Maybe she knows who Gabby Gums is.
(Rarity gasps, covering her mouth, and shoots Twilight an offended glare; a moment later she is on her way toward an intact door.)
Rarity: My sister would never associate with someone as beastly as Gabby Gums! (Cut to the others, Rainbow now out of the pile; she continues o.s.) I resent you even suggesting such a thing, Twilight! (Back to her.) Why, she’s the most innocent, most lovely—
(Cut to the interior of a closed bag, which she opens. A locked diary sits on top of a stack of books, and the background is that of the Carousel Boutique’s showroom. Her beatific smile gives way to a glower of pure rage.)
Rarity: —most evil pony in Equestria!
(Cut to her on the end of this, she has looked in Sweetie’s saddlebags, and she stamps a hoof. Zoom in slowly.)
Rarity: (levitating diary) How could my own sister steal my private diary? How could my own sister be… (Zoom in to a close-up; small voice.) …Gabby Gums?
(Snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the Carousel Boutique. Tilt up to the upper story and cut to the closed door of Rarity’s workspace/living area. A shadow falls over the panels and a white leg swings up to kick the door open, revealing Sweetie with her notepad on the floor inside.)
Rarity: (pointing) Et tu, Gabby Gums? (Cut to Sweetie; she snaps upright with a gasp.)
Sweetie: You know? How’d you find out?
(The diary and a paper are magically shoved toward her; on the start of the next line, cut to frame both sisters.)
Rarity: The gilded pages of your betrayal!
Sweetie: Oh, yeah.
Rarity: (walking past her with items) How could you do this to me? You stole my secret diary and published it for all the world to read! Gossip can be a very hurtful thing! It is an invasion of privacy— (levitating Sweetie’s open bag) —just like when I snooped through your saddlebag. (Close-up of the chastened little sister; she continues o.s.) You didn’t like that much, did you?
Sweetie: No. (Bag drops.)
Rarity: (walking past her) What is important is that you understand how your column makes the ponies that you’re writing about feel! (Cut to just outside the open door.)
Sweetie: I do understand, and we’ve all been feeling guilty. But we just want our cutie marks so badly. (Inside again; zoom in slowly.)
Rarity: (resting a hoof on Sweetie’s shoulder) Do you really think that writing nasty things and making everypony feel horrible is your destiny?
Sweetie: Well, when you put it that way…
(Cut to an extreme close-up of a rancorous editor-in-chief.)
Diamond: No! (Longer shot; she leans over her desk toward the Crusaders.) I won’t let you quit! (She swivels away.)
Sweetie: But the gossip we’ve been printing is hurting everypony’s feelings!
Diamond: Feelings?! (She swivels back to them.) I don’t care about feelings! (picking up a paper) Gabby Gums is my bread and butter, and I’m not gonna let you goody-two-horseshoes take that away from me! (Swivel away.)
Sweetie: We’re sorry, Diamond Tiara, but we’ve made our decision.
Scootaloo: (stepping forward) Yeah. You can’t force us to keep gossiping.
(Extreme close-up of Diamond on the end of this; her scowl shifts into a calculating smile, and she holds up a file folder over her shoulder.)
Diamond: When you see these…
(Long pause; the focus shifts from her to them as their jaws drop a few inches.)
Diamond: …you may not want to quit after all.
(The folder is thrown across, spilling out three full-color pictures when it hits the floor at the trio’s feet. They suck in a disbelieving gasp; cut to a close-up of one that shows Sweetie having been pressed into modeling duty. A flash of white changes the view to the little unicorn, who blushes furiously.)
Diamond: (from o.s.) I told Featherweight to document everything.
(During this line, the view cuts to a snapshot of Scootaloo in the mud puddle underneath the birds’ nest and flashes to the blushing real McCoy. The next cut brings up a photo of the page in Granny’s album with the picture of the double-diapered baby Bloom; another flash, and it is the yellow filly’s turn to go red in the face. Cut to Featherweight, who has stuck his camera into the office through the open window and takes another shot.)
Diamond: (walking toward Crusaders) And that’s exactly what he did. (She sweeps up the photos; Scootaloo gasps.)
Scootaloo: (grabbing for them) Gimme those! (Diamond pulls them back.)
Diamond: Sorry, girls. Property of the Foal Free Press.
(Three faces fall in unison; cut to the boss, climbing into her chair, on the start of the next line.)
Diamond: And if Gabby Gums really does go into retirement… (with mocking pity) …I’ll need something to fill that empty column space.
(Nasty grin. The realization that she is blackmailing them hits home now, touching off reactions of shock and anger.)
Diamond: Now get out there and bring me more Gabby Gums!
(Snap to black.)
(Fade in to a patch of blue sky and tilt down to the Crusaders walking through the meadows outside Ponyville.)
Sweetie: We’ll find a way out of this, girls.
Scootaloo: (looking upward; others do likewise) Maybe Rainbow Dash’ll have a story for us!
(Cut to a small cloud floating overhead; the pegasus is lounging around on it.)
Scootaloo: (from o.s.) She’s always good for some gossip. (Close-up of Rainbow.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) Rainbow Dash! (Zoom out slightly to frame the Crusaders; she looks down.) Hey, Rainbow Dash!
Rainbow: (nastily) Well, if it isn’t Gabby Gums.
Sweetie: (sadly) You heard too, huh?
Rainbow: Are you kidding? Everypony in town knows it’s you three.
Scootaloo: (smiling sheepishly) Don’t suppose you’d let us write a column on you, huh?
(The vexed weather pony responds by bringing a large gray cloud down over their heads and bucking it to set off a drenching shower. She flies off as the three soaked fillies trade miserable looks. Wipe to the exterior of Fluttershy’s cottage as they head slowly for the front door, now dried off. Once they reach the step, they find a considerable quantity of water dribbling out from under the door and hear the yellow pegasus’ sobs through it. Cut to just inside; the door swings open and the camera tilts down to frame the head of Fluttershy’s rabbit Angel.)
Sweetie: Oh, hi, Angel.
(Cut to their perspective of the living room during the next line. Angel gives them the most hateful glare his black eyes can conjure up, while his owner cries waterfalls that make Pinkie’s earlier jag look like a leaky faucet. Her tears have converted most of the floor into a swamp.)
Sweetie: Is Fluttershy home?
(He gives it a moment to let the group fully understand not only the idiocy of the question, but also their sheer brazenness in asking it after smearing her reputation as they did. The moment ends when he slams the door hard. Wipe to the three trudging along a Ponyville street, then cut to just behind them. Dead ahead is the library—but before they can reach the front door, they run face first into an invisible barrier and tumble backwards. It flares up briefly when hit. Bloom is the first to stand up; she taps the wall, causing it to manifest fully as the others get up. The camera is now on the inside, pointing out at them.)
Scootaloo: (slightly muffled) Hey! What gives?
(Inside the library, Spike opens a window and looks out at them.)
Spike: Aha! (Outside the field; he is muffled.) Twilight thought you might try to show your faces around here…
(Long shot of the building. The field is spherical, its lower portion cut off where it meets the ground; the entire assembly looks something like a life-size snow globe.)
Spike: (muffled) …so she put up a force field! (Window slam; they slink away.)
(Wipe to a close-up of an extremely cross Applejack and Big Macintosh in the Sweet Apple Acres orchards.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) Oh, come on, Applejack! (Longer shot; the Crusaders are out here.) You’re not mad at us too, are you?
Applejack: Yup.
Bloom: You’re not even gonna talk to us?
Applejack: Nope. (She turns away.)
Macintosh: You should be ashamed of yourself, humiliatin’ your sister and me like that. (moving to stare them down point-blank) We don’t want to talk to any of y’all right now, so take your little gossip column— (Cut to the Crusaders; he points and continues o.s.) —and your embarrassin’ photographs and just GO AWAY!
(They do so, floored not just by the severity of this tongue-lashing, but also the fact that they have probably just heard him say more words in one stretch than any other moment in his life or theirs. Dissolve to a nearly empty street; as they walk forlornly along it, the only passing mare—Berry Punch—gives them the stink-eye and others close up their houses. Doors and shutters are slammed, shades pulled down, welcome mats yanked in—and three heads droop toward the ground.)
(Dissolve to the exterior of their clubhouse and zoom in slowly. It is now later in the day.)
Sweetie: (from inside) We’ve ruined all of our friendships— (Inside, she paces before Bloom and Scootaloo.) —and we still don’t have our cutie marks!
Bloom: This is the worst day ever!
Scootaloo: (standing up) Oh, yeah? Wait ’til tomorrow. (flapping her wings briefly) Our most embarrassing moments are about to be published for everypony to laugh at.
Bloom: So what do we do? (Cut to Sweetie; she hunkers down.)
Sweetie: I don’t know. (standing up) But we’re not leaving this clubhouse until we think of something!
(Zoom in on her and the window that drawn her attention. Cut to a stretch of orchard land, then dissolve to the exterior of the schoolhouse at dawn of the following day. Once the sun has risen a bit more, cut to Diamond at the level of the open office window.)
Diamond: That’s it!
(Longer shot; she stands atop a stack of papers on her desk chair, and Shady looks quizzically up at her.)
Diamond: Gabby Gums is out of time.
(Cut to him; the folder of blackmail fodder is thrust out for him.)
Diamond: (from o.s.) Run these instead. (He gets them in his mouth.) I want this paper on every street corner in Ponyville!
(Cut to her on the end of this, she and her chair roll back behind the desk and she bangs a hoof on it. The stack of papers is gone.)
Shady: (saluting) Yes, ma’am!
(Just as he is about to start cranking, the sound of the door being flung open cuts him off. Cut to the Crusaders on their way in.)
Sweetie: STOP THE PRESSES!!
Shady: Uh, they haven’t started yet. (Cut to Diamond, then to the trio on the next line.)
Scootaloo: (holding up notepad) We have a Gabby Gums column!
(She lays it on the desk as the boss lets off an exasperated sigh.)
Diamond: You’re lucky I’m nice. (Shady slings it to Ruby and Truffle; pan across.) This better not happen again… (now o.s.) …or else!
(He gets the machinery in gear, turning out copy after copy; as one flies off the end, the background behind it changes to the schoolhouse lawn. A picture of the Crusaders is above the fold on the front page, and this one is being held up by a foal as another reads farther back. The paper is carried out of view, exposing other students on the swings and grass; all are plowing into the story with relish. Pan from here to the building; Diamond opens the door and steps out with a satisfied sigh.)
Diamond: Well done, Diamond Tiara. You’ve averted yet another crisis with your amazing diplomatic skills.
(Having reached the playground, she stops to look over a filly’s shoulder. Smugness shifts to disbelief in no time flat; she gasps softly and the camera cuts to a slow zoom on the front page.)
Diamond: (from o.s., reading) “An Open Letter to Ponyville, by Gabby Gums”?
(Back to her; she yanks the paper away for herself and shoves the filly aside.)
Diamond: What is this? (lowering it) Ooh, they’re not gonna get away with this! I’ll publish those photos tomorrow! They messed with the wrong pony!
(Dissolve slowly to a long overhead shot of Ponyville, then cut to a doorstep as a paper is thrown onto it. Mayor Mare peeks out, her latest pink-to-gray dye job half-done.)
Sweetie: (voice over, dictating) “To the citizens of Ponyville: For some time now, you’ve been reading this column to get the latest dirt and the hottest buzz.”
(Close-up of the Crusaders, trudging through rain with a paper held over their heads.)
Sweetie: (voice over) “But this will be my final piece.” (Longer shot; Rainbow is stomping a cloud to rain on them.) “We want to apologize for the pain and embarrassment we’ve caused.”
(The annoyed pegasus lays off and looks down at them, getting an eyeful of the front page.)
Bloom: (voice over) “You see, I’m actually three little fillies…” (They peek out, one by one.) “…Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo.”
(Rainbow grins and moves the cloud aside with one swift kick. Cut to a close-up of Fluttershy’s closed front door, which swings open to reveal the despondent pony on her couch and a ticked-off Angel. He regards the paper thrust toward him with surprise.)
Scootaloo: (voice over) “As the popularity of our column grew…” (Longer shot; the Crusaders are on the step.) “…we got swept up in the hype.” (He darts in; Fluttershy comes out with a smile and hugs them.) “We knew that what we were doing didn’t feel quite right, but we ignored the guilt because everypony seemed to want to read what we were writing.”
(Dissolve to the library, whose force field is still shutting them out. A distrustful Spike opens the front door and looks out, whereupon Sweetie holds a copy out for him to see.)
Sweetie: (voice over) “From now on, we promise to respect everypony else’s privacy…” (Twilight emerges, smiling, and drops the field.) “…and we won’t engage in hurtful gossip anymore.”
(Dissolve to Applejack and Bloom standing face to face. The elder sister smiles tenderly down at the contrite younger, who smiles as well as they nuzzle cheek to cheek.)
Bloom: (voice over) “All we can do is ask for your forgiveness, Ponyville.”
(A longer shot frames Rarity and Sweetie making up as well, while Scootaloo carries papers in her mouth and tosses them onto the roadbed.)
Bloom: (voice over) “Signing off for the very last time, X-O-X-O, Gabby Gums.”
(Dissolve to just outside the schoolhouse’s basement window, zooming in slowly.)
Cheerilee: (from inside, a bit wearily) Well, staff…
(Dissolve to an overhead shot of the office. She now sits at the editor’s desk to address the crew; Diamond stands petulantly off to her side. Zoom in slowly.)
Cheerilee: …I guess I gave a little too much authority to a first-time editor. (Cut to Diamond during this; Cheerilee leans to her.) I’m sorry, Diamond Tiara. I have to strip you of your title.
(One hard buck against the wall rolls up Diamond’s photo, prompting a furious growl from the filly; cut to the Crusaders as she clomps over to stand next to them.)
Cheerilee: (from o.s.) And for the next editor of the Foal Free Press… (Diamond blows them a raspberry; back to her.) …here’s your new editor-in-chief…
(Cut to the closed door on the end of this. A slim silhouette appears on the other side of the translucent glass panel, and it swings open to reveal…)
Cheerilee: (from o.s.) …Featherweight!
(Cheers from the staff as he zips in and gives Shady a high five. Close-up of Diamond.)
Diamond: Ugh! Him? But what about me?
(Shady reaches into view, slapping his eyeshade onto her head and draping his ink-splotched apron over a foreleg.)
Shady: (from o.s.) Here you go!
(He leans into view, now wearing Featherweight’s camera around his neck.)
Shady: I’ve been promoted to staff photographer!
(Zoom out as he speaks to frame the press. He snaps a picture of her and hurries off; blinded by the glare, she slips in a puddle of ink and falls against the old machine. The black gunk spatters down over her as the press starts churning put papers and the Crusaders laugh it up. “Iris out” to black on Diamond’s pathetic pout.)
MMMYSTERY ON THE FRIENDSHIP EXPRESS
Written by Amy Keating Rogers
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of the uppermost tier of an intricately styled cake, seen in a soft focus. The icing is pale yellow, with bright pink trim around the bottom edge, an apple and orange rest on top, and the upper surface of the next tier down sports red flowers. Tilt down slowly to show the rest of the cake done with flowers and edging—four tiers in all.)
Pinkie Pie: (from o.s., shuddery) Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness!
(Stop on her and Mrs. Cake standing next to it on the end of this. The whole construction stands at least twice as tall as either of them. Cut to overhead; they are in Sugarcube Corner, as is Mr. Cake. Normal lighting establishes itself.)
Pinkie: You’ve really outdone yourselves, Mr. and Mrs. Cake! This is sure to be the winning entry of this year’s National Dessert Competition!
Mrs. Cake: Oh, thank you, Pinkie!
Mr. Cake: And thanks for transporting it all the way to Canterlot for us. (Close-up of Pinkie.)
Pinkie: Absolutely! It’s my honor and I— (Zoom out; Applejack now stands next to her.)
Applejack: Uh, beg pardon, but could we maybe move things along? This here cake’s a mite heavy…
(Pan from her to Big Macintosh, who has the thing balanced on his back and is struggling not to hit the floor. A fruit garnish has been added at the base.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) …right, Big Macintosh?
Macintosh: (grunting) Ee-yup.
Pinkie: All righty, then, Big Mac!
(She puts on a hard hat with a top-mounted red light, which begins to flash.)
Pinkie: To the train depot!
(Now she backs out, turning herself into the pony equivalent of a pilot car escorting a big rig with an oversize load, and he eases after her. Cut to outside; barricades have been set up to keep the crowd back from the side door, where she is leading him out. The couple who built this monster brings up the rear. It is daytime.)
Pinkie: That’s it, Big Mac, nice and slow. This is precious cargo you’re carrying. (Tiers start to wobble a bit, worrying both Cakes.)
Mr. Cake: Yes. It took months of planning and testing.
Mrs. Cake: I would hate for it to—
(Macintosh groans as his legs buckle, threatening to bring the dessert down around his ears. He muscles it back up to the level, the Cakes cry out, and Mr. Cake faints.)
Pinkie: Don’t worry, Mr. and Mrs. Cake. (She spots Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash flying in.) Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy! (Cut to them; she continues o.s.) A little pegas-sistance?
(Dissolve to the procession, now grown to six ponies—the original four, plus the two hovering pegasi who have attached ropes to the cake platter’s handles to help steady it. A teeter toward Fluttershy’s side is met by a countering yank from Rainbow. Mr. Cake is back on his hooves.)
Pinkie: I’ll get it there safely, you’ll see. (This fails to reassure the couple; Mr. Cake starts to sweat.)
Mrs. Cake: (forcing a laugh) Oh, of course, Pinkie.
Mr. Cake: We never doubted you. (Fake chuckle.)
(The next weight shift starts the high-rise confection toppling toward Rainbow; she zips over to Fluttershy’s side so they can both haul in the ropes. Balance is restored, but Mrs. Cake’s eyes look to pop out of their sockets and Mr. Cake keels over again.)
Pinkie: (addressing herself o.s.) Twilight…
(Cut to Twilight Sparkle, hunkered down nearby with a soda and a good book.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) …can I see you a second?
(The unicorn looks up from her reading with a smile. Dissolve to a profile close-up of her, stepping ahead with horn glowing and eyes narrowed in determination, and cut to frame the seven-pony squad on the start of the next line. She walks between Macintosh and the Cakes, keeping a spherical force field around the colossus. Mr. Cake is again back upright.)
Pinkie: A nice protective spell as extra insurance? (Nervous giggle.) Better safe than sorry.
(The two senior bakers alternate panicked glances between Twilight and the cake, their faces betraying the less-than-total trust they have in this jury-rigged freight move.)
Pinkie: (addressing herself o.s.) AJ, Rarity? One last thing?
(Dissolve to a close-up of Applejack and Rarity, holding up an old-style fireman’s safety net—similar in appearance to a round trampoline—by its frame in their teeth on opposite sides. The cake’s towering shadow falls over them from up ahead as they walk along, and a longer shot of the nine-pony detachment shows that they are now behind Macintosh, followed by Twilight and then the Cakes. They approach the station, where a train idles at the platform.)
Pinkie: All right, everypony! (Cut to the freaked-out Cakes; hubby hyperventilates as she continues o.s.) We’re in the home stretch here!
(A happy bound deposits her on the platform.)
Pinkie: See, Mr. and Mrs. Cake? I got it here without a hitch. (Close-up; she opens a car door.) Now all we have to do is get it…
(Confusion sets in on the bright pink face as the camera zooms out. The others have made it here—and it quickly becomes apparent that this thing is far too tall and wide to go through the doorway as is.)
Pinkie: …in?
(Mr. Cake hits the deck for the third time. Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to the platform. One of the train cars has had its entire side removed and laid down flat to accommodate the cake, and Macintosh flips it back up into position. Cut to just inside the window as he straightens up, mallet in mouth, and bangs a few spots to secure everything in place. A short pan frames Twilight and her friends looking admiringly up at the cake; Pinkie voices a relieved sigh, having ditched her hard hat.)
Pinkie: Thank you all for helping me get the cake safely on the dessert car.
Twilight: Thank you for inviting us all to go with you to Canterlot for the National Dessert Competition.
Rarity: I’m sure the festivities will be just lovely.
Applejack: (nudging her in the side) Phooey on the festivities. (eyeing the cake) I can’t wait to try all those tasty treats!
(She licks her lips and extends a hoof tentatively toward the sky-high sweetness, only to get it slapped away by Pinkie.)
Pinkie: Well, the tastiest treat of all is sure to be the Cakes’ Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness. (Extreme close-up; it is reflected in her eyes.) All that rich, creamy goodness of the marzipan—
(Cut to a slow, softly focused pan along the topmost tier.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) —combined with the tart tanginess of the mascarpone— (Slow tilt down toward the base.) —blended perfectly with the smooth, silky sweetness of the meringue.
(Cut to a slow pan across all but Fluttershy on the end of this; Applejack drools and lets her tongue hang out.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) That’s why I call the Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness… (Extreme close-up.) …the MMMM!
(Pronounced not as four separate M’s, but as a continuous “mmm” sound. Zoom out to frame all six.)
Other five: MMMM! (She jumps up onto its table.)
Pinkie: Exactly! It’s the most delicious, delectable, delightful, de-lovely cake in Equestria! (Cut to the others as she continues.) And it’s sure to win first prize!
Male French voice: This is not so!
(General surprise. Pan quickly to the speaker, Gustave LeGrand, standing in an open doorway. Griffon; light gray plumage over dark gray fur; red kerchief tied around neck; white chef’s toque; long, thin, curling black mustache; scornful black eyes with yellow-orange whites.)
Gustave: For I, Gustave LeGrand, do challenge your crude cake— (spreading one wing, revealing a plate of éclairs) —to a duel of delectable delicacies against my…
(Close-up of the plate, held up in a radiance that sparks a gasp from the group.)
Gustave: (from o.s.) …Exceptionally Exquisite Éclairs!
(Back to him. The flare has come from a spotlight he held up in his free forelimb. This is switched off and thrown aside.)
Gustave: (setting plate on a free table) They will undoubtably strike down all the competition… (smoothing mustache) …winning first prize and crowning me le champion!
(A tough male voice cuts in.)
Tough voice: Not a chance, LeGrand!
(Another round of confused looks from the Ponyville contingent. Pan quickly to the open doorway, where Pony Joe—the proprietor of Spike’s favorite donut shop as seen in “The Best Night Ever”—is on his way in. The shafts of a cart harness extend back behind him.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Donut Joe! What are you doing in Ponyville?
Joe: Picking up the final, all-important ingredient for my contest entry…
(He looks behind himself on the end of this, and the camera zooms out to frame the cart, which is now inside the car and no longer harnessed to him. On it stands a range of skyscrapers built from varicolored donuts, with little strips of icing around the edges as the windows.)
Joe: …Donutopia!
(Close-up of the upper reaches; he reaches into view to shake on sprinkles.)
Joe: (from o.s.) And with these super sprinkles… (Zoom out to frame him as he continues.) …my donuts are gonna dunk all the other lousy desserts, steal first prize, and make my donut shop famous—forever!
(His bout of wild laughter is cut off by a high, quavery female voice that bears a passing resemblance to Julia Child, including the occasional suppressed giggle.)
Female voice: Oh, Joe…
(He skulks off, pushing Donutopia along. Behind him, in the doorway, stands a life-size chocolate sculpture of a moose on a wheeled platform.)
Female voice: …your dippy donuts could never outrun me.
(The broad antlers bend on contact with the frame, then spring out intact within the train car. Pinkie emerges from the bemused mares with a smile.)
Pinkie: Hello! (She trots over and addresses the moose.) What’s your name?
(From behind it emerges Mulia Mild, an elderly female mule. Light brown coat, curly dark gray mane, light blue eyes that match her pearl necklace.)
Mulia: I am Mulia Mild. (The sculpture sparkles.) Behold…my Chocolate Mousse Moose! It will trample all your treats, be given first prize, and make me the greatest chef in Equestria!
(During this second sentence, cut to Gustave, Joe, and Pinkie/Applejack/Rainbow in turn; the griffon and unicorn glare at her, while Pinkie adopts a puzzled frown and her two friends smile in anticipation. Gustave now addresses Mulia.)
Gustave: Madame Mild, you and your mousse moose are mistaken!
Joe: Your frou-frou éclairs will never defeat my donuts!
Pinkie: The Cakes’ Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness is going to win!
Mulia: Your simple cake could never take my moose!
(The sound of the train whistle puts an end to the trash-talking. Cut to a close-up of it, then to the wheels as they begin to turn amid billows of steam. Inside, Pinkie and Joe are locked in a full-bore stare-down, as are Gustave and Mulia; the impasses break at Twilight’s approach.)
Twilight: Well, it sure looks like we’re in for a delicious competition tomorrow. Maybe we should all settle in for a good night’s sleep.
(Pinkie’s three rivals reluctantly head for the dessert car’s rear door, grumbling all the way. Near this hangs a painting of a distinguished earth pony stallion in a military uniform liberally decorated with medals. The doors to three compartments in this sleeping car are slid shut, leaving Pinkie to stare after them from her spot in the dessert car. Rainbow flies up alongside, yawning and stretching.)
Rainbow: I got to admit, I’m pretty beat.
Applejack: Yeah. I’m gonna hit the hay myself.
(A general move toward the rear is thwarted when the pink pony blocks the passage.)
Pinkie: Wait! Didn’t you hear those chefs? (pointing) We have to protect MMMM!
Rarity: (pointing to it) MMMM?
Pinkie: Mmm-hmm! I know for super-sure that MMMM is the best dessert in all Equestria, and I know that they know it too!
Rainbow: So…?
Pinkie: (freaking out) So…one of them is gonna sabotage the Cakes-es’ cake tonight! (Her perspective of the five—mixed amusement/disbelief.) You have to help me stand guard!
Twilight: Pinkie, you’re overreacting. (Back to Pinkie at the door.)
Applejack: Yeah, those chefs aren’t gonna do your cake any harm. (Pinkie squeezes Applejack’s cheeks.)
Pinkie: But they are! I just know it!
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Fine! (Cut to frame the entire group.) If you want to stand guard, go for it. We’re going to bed.
(She flies over Pinkie’s head, carving a divot through the fluffy magenta mane that instantly seals itself. The wearer of said mane can only watch with the clearest unease as the other four exit to leave her alone in the dessert car. She flops onto her haunches for a second, then leaps up onto the cake table as an equine shield.)
Pinkie: I’ll show them. I’ll stay up all night and protect you. (jumping down, backing up, sitting on haunches) Nothing and nopony will stop me from keeping you safe.
(Dissolve to a close-up of the towering concoction. The lights in the train car have been put out, and the night sky can be seen through the half-raised window shades. Zoom out slightly as Pinkie grimly paces the floor in front of it, then dissolve to her scrutinizing a patch of floor nearby. A series of three more dissolves points up her steadily increasing fatigue; after the last one, a blur of shadow whisks past the camera, snapping her awake.)
Pinkie: Huh? (looking after it) Stop, you saboteur!
(Long shot of the rear door on the end of this; the fleeing figure slams it as she gives chase. Cut to its other side; Pinkie opens it to glare in, then races through. Outside, the silhouettes of the intruder and pursuer move from car to car, seen through the windows; cut to a close-up of the charging Pinkie.)
Pinkie: I have you now!
(Close-up of one door, zooming out as she opens it—the rear door of the caboose, seen from outside. She hits the brakes hard on order to keep from skidding off the platform, and finds herself the only pony within sight.)
Pinkie: What?
(Inside again; she backs in, looks around the unused furniture in here, then returns to the dessert car. The camera zooms in on the closed door at its forward end, through whose window a blurred silhouette in a high-crowned cap can be seen. As soon as it ducks out of view, Pinkie grits her teeth and races after it. Just as before, the chase ranges from car to car, seen from both inside and outside. Pan quickly ahead to the engine, then cut to just inside its door as Pinkie throws it open. Zoom out to frame part of an engineer’s striped cap in the foreground.)
Pinkie: Aha!
(Behind her. The second mystery figure stands here, shoveling coal into the engine’s furnace; it remains as only a silhouette due to the glare from the flames. Having had no luck in catching would-be cake-nappers so far, Pinkie retreats toward home base. Cut to just inside the dessert car’s forward door; she peeks in with a nervous little cry, and the camera zooms out to frame the MMMM still intact. She zips over to it.)
Pinkie: Oh, thank Celestia you’re okay! But one of those bakers is mixing up something bad! So I’m not leaving you again, no matter what!
(She sits on her haunches to stare directly at the towering sugar rush—and “what” chooses that moment to occur. More specifically, all the window shades pull themselves shut to black out the screen. A gasp.)
Pinkie: Who turned off the moon? (Clatter of hooves.) Don’t go near that cake, thief! (Soft squelch.) Stop, thief! (Bang.) Oh! Are you okay, thief?
(The lights come back up when Pinkie gets a shade open. What gets her attention first is the painting hanging by the rear door—it has been knocked askew. Sliding the door open, she aims a menacing growl down the empty corridor of the sleeping car, then looks at the picture again. The military officer seems to have grown a set of rather long eyelashes.)
Pinkie: Huh. (She straightens it and returns to the cake.) Overreacting, my hoof. I knew I was gonna have to keep a close eye on you—and that’s just what I’m gonna do!
(She fixes it with her most ruthless stare, her front hooves propped on the table’s edge so she can watch it from point-blank range. At least, that is, until her head tumbles forward through her forelegs and she starts snoring with great vigor. Fade to black.)
(Fade in to a close-up of the not-so-attentive escort, now curled up on the floor and still sawing two-by-fours. Daylight shines through the windows, and a rooster’s crowing from outside causes her to start awake and scratch at her head with a hind leg.)
Pinkie: (drowsily) Huh…wha…
(She snaps to with a gasp and jumps upright to check out the scene.)
Pinkie: The cake! (It appears untouched; her eyes shine.) Oh, MMMM, you look mmm-mmm-marvelous!
(Pan to frame Twilight, entering through the rear door and rubbing her eyes, and cut to a close-up. When she looks off toward the desserts, her sleepy smile gives way to a pop-eyed stare.)
Twilight: Whoa! (Back to Pinkie and the cake.)
Pinkie: I know! (Twilight walks up and eyes it closely.) I think some congratulations are in order for a job well done.
Twilight: Um, you better hold off on giving yourself an award just yet, Pinkie. (Close-up of the bottom tier; she continues o.s.) Look.
(She begins to rotate the platter, exposing a sizable gouge taken from this layer.)
Pinkie: Look at what?
(On the last word, the blue eyes do exactly what the purple ones did a moment ago. A longer shot of the cake reveals all the damage: every tier except the uppermost one has had a chunk taken out of it. The mess had been disguised by keeping it turned to the wall; zoom in on it, the camera tilting slightly as well.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Huh?
(Cut back to Pinkie, who sucks in a lung-bursting gasp as her pupils shrink to points and her face makes ready to get off this crazy train under its own power. Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of the interior of Pinkie’s screaming mouth and zoom out slowly to frame both her and the ruined cake. Applejack and Fluttershy emerge from the sleeping car; Rainbow’s hooves hang into view above them.)
Applejack: What is it? (Zoom out to frame Rainbow and Gustave, who is right behind them.)
Rainbow: What happened?
Pinkie: It’s the Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness! (pointing) It’s been… (Pan to it.) …mutilated!
(The camera now cuts to seven gasping onlookers: Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rarity, and all three of the other bakers. Rarity’s mane has been swept forward a bit to cover her right eye.)
Pinkie: (all business) Now we just need to find out who done it!
Twilight: You mean “who did it.”
Pinkie: Exactly! “Who did-done-dood it”!
Twilight: Well, having read many mystery novels, I know that the only way to discover the culprit is to investigate.
(The hyperactive mare leans over to her, carrying a checked, two-tone gray “deerstalker” hat of the sort often worn by Sherlock Holmes in illustrations and films. A pipe rests inside.)
Pinkie: Exactly!
(She tosses the hat onto her own head and lashes out her tongue to catch the pipe, which she uses to blow a cluster of soap bubbles. One of these envelops Twilight’s head and grows for a moment, comically distorting her face before it bursts. Now Pinkie inspects the cake while balancing the pipe on a front hoof.)
Pinkie: And as chief detective, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. (She blows bubbles; cut to Twilight and Applejack.)
Applejack: Uh, you’re investigatin’?
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Yes!
(Leaping into view, she plunks a dark gray bowler hat on the violet unicorn’s head.)
Pinkie: And Twilight shall be my lowly assistant who asks silly questions with obvious answers. (The assistant is not amused; Pinkie trots off.)
Twilight: Fine, Pinkie. Should we start looking for clues?
(On the end of this, zoom out to frame the entire contingent of nine. Pinkie stands in the foreground, tipping bubble soap into her pipe from a can held in her mouth; she spits this away and roots around.)
Pinkie: Perfect silly question, my dear Twilight, because the obvious answer is…
Twilight: (smiling): …yes?
Pinkie: …no! ’Cause I know who did it! (Blow bubbles; a round of gasps.)
Twilight: (incredulously) Pinkie, how could you possibly know?
Pinkie: (pacing) How could I possibly not know? Clearly this dastardly deed was done by the baker who knew their dessert could not measure up to the mastery of the Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness! I guess you feared your éclairs lacked flair… (She rounds on…) …Gustave!
(“Iris in” to a close-up of the griffon, now clad in a dark hat and cloak and with only his eyes and beak showing between them. The picture has taken on the scratchy, faded quality of an old black-and-white silent movie, with an appropriate piano soundtrack. Gustave swirls away from the camera and along the dessert car to loom behind Pinkie, who is watching the cake closely. He tries to snatch at the uppermost tier, only to get his talons batted away and back off.)
Intertitle: “Ouch!!”
(She rounds on him furiously.)
Intertitle: “Get your claws off that cake you cur!”
(Before she can say anything further, she is grabbed up and securely lashed to the train tracks; he stands over her, laughs, and runs off. Down the way, a growing pinpoint of light marks the train’s rapid approach; Pinkie’s mouth falls open.)
Intertitle: “Oh goodness!”
(Close-up of a control panel. Gustave reaches into view and yanks a lever as far as it will go; cut to a close-up of a circular saw blade, positioned over one end of a conveyor belt inside the train. It spins up from rest, the camera zooming out slightly. The cake has been placed on this belt, which begins to carry it toward the saw, and Gustave zips in to gloat and twirl his mustache.)
Intertitle: “Muhu ha ha!”
(Close-up: he laughs some more as gobbets of cake and icing spatter back over him—the saw has done the dirty work. “Iris out” to a full-color shot of the dumbfounded chef, then zoom out slightly as Pinkie leans hard into his face, balanced on Mulia’s head and back.)
Pinkie: …thus destroying the cake and the Cakes-es’ chance of winning the National Dessert Competition!
Twilight: But it makes no sense! (Pinkie turns and pokes her face with the pipe’s stem.)
Pinkie: What do you mean, lowly assistant? (Twilight pushes it back.)
Twilight: Well, first, if you were tied to the train tracks, how are you now here? (Pinkie thinks and blows bubbles.)
Pinkie: Huh…guess that isn’t a totally silly question.
Twilight: (gesturing to cake) And second, the cake hasn’t been sliced, it’s been bitten. (Close-up of the bottom tier; she continues o.s.) Just look at the teeth marks. (Pinkie leans in close.)
Pinkie: Hmmm…you’re right, my fine fellow. (pacing) Gustave LeGrand is clearly in the clear, which means the MMMM was destroyed by another baker—a baker whose donuts are do-nots! That’s right. It was Joe!
(Cut to him on this last word; she thrusts an accusing hoof into his face. The view swivels 90 degrees around an invisible vertical axis through its center, leaving the screen black. Against this, a frosted donut with sprinkles travels from left to right, leaving a series of ghost images behind itself that quickly fade away. The overall effect recalls the “gun barrel” opening sequence of the James Bond films. The donut’s hole is filled in with pale blue-white light; when it reaches the right edge, the camera zooms in to a close-up. A grim Joe walks into the hole, now wearing a tuxedo jacket and shirt with a red bow tie and toting a set of saddlebags, and the donut tracks his movement from right to left.)
Pinkie: (voice over) Or as he’s known in the spy world, Mane. (He stops.) Con Mane.
(Producing a couple of donuts from a pocket, he bites down hard enough to send out a squirt of purple jelly that oozes down over the screen. The donut frame retreats slightly and fades from view as the moon fades in to replace it, and the background becomes the starry night sky. As the train’s chuffing is heard ,tilt down to frame it making good time, then cut to Joe in a lounge/bar car and zoom in. He is enjoying a frothy ice cream soda in the company of three admiring, giggling mares— Berry Punch , Carrot Top, and Cherry Berry—but his attention is diverted by the beeping of a small monitor/wristwatch on a foreleg. The green monochrome display shows a railroad track, a pony alongside, and a bomb being set to blow the works apart. Setting the soda on Carrot’s head, he brusquely takes his leave of the gathering.)
(Cut to Pinkie, wearing a security guard’s hat and watching the Cakes’ creation intently in a darkened car, and zoom out through the window of the closed rear door. Joe nips up, keeping himself plastered against the wall to avoid being seen, and slaps a device onto the pane. A glass-cutter blade extends from this and swings through one full circle; the cut piece falls away, taking the tool with it, and a small ball is flung through the new opening. It bounces across the floor, stops in front of Pinkie, and lets go with a burst of gas that sends her to the floor, unconscious.)
(Here comes Joe, who takes a moment to straighten his tie. Its knot emits a jet of powder that spreads into a cloud and illuminates a net of laser beams, which encircle the cake closely as a security measure. These are easily redirected thanks to a hand mirror in his teeth; a moment later he swings them down through all four tiers. The apple at the base falls apart, neatly cleaved in two, and the entire assembly comes down in a tumble of frosted chunks. Berry and Carrot drape themselves over him in a flash, and the camera zooms in to a close-up of his face, which shifts from a debonair smile into a contemptuous sneer.)
(Another swiveling transition brings the action back to the real-life, visibly unnerved Joe as Pinkie leans into his face.)
Pinkie: …crushing the Cakes’ chances to win!
Twilight: Pinkie!
(Her bowler bounces off her head for a moment, and she gestures to the cake.)
Twilight: There is no laser beam security system! (Back to Pinkie and Joe; she continues o.s.) And Joe is not sleek, stealthy Con Mane! (She zips over and pokes at him.) He’s big, gruff, and messy!
Joe: (offended) Hey!
Rarity: Although you would look rather dapper in a tuxedo. (He smiles at this.)
Pinkie: Huh… (pacing) …you may be right, lowly assistant.
Twilight: (sardonically) May be?
(Now, in close-up, the pink private eye turns her attention to Mulia’s creation.)
Pinkie: Now that I’m taking a closer look at these desserts… (nudging it; slight jiggle) …I see that one simply cannot look me in the eye.
Twilight: (from o.s., pleadingly) Pinkie… (Cut to frame her and others.) …that moose is a mousse!
Pinkie: (crossing to her; hoof to nose) Yes! And the mule behind the moose panicked when she saw the mastery of the MMMM!
Twilight: So you’re saying that the culprit is…? (Pinkie rounds on…)
Pinkie: Mulia Mild!
(Wipe to a letterbox view of the train speeding through the night. The camera is set at roof level, and the scene is rendered in a soft focus. Mulia drops into view, clad in a black ninja outfit that covers everything but her eyes and snout, and lands in a crouch. After a quick zoom in on her stoic face, she sprints and somersaults her way toward the front of the train as the sun begins to rise. Cut to Pinkie, once again on cake-guarding duty and wearing her hat from the Joe scenario. When she turns and walks off, the stealthy mule is exposed at the far end.)
(Mulia hurls herself into a leap, the screen snapping to black and tiling itself with three panels. Left half: Pinkie. Top right quarter: Mulia raising something. Bottom right quarter: the item, a frying pan. It is swung down in all three panels; cut to an extreme close-up of Pinkie’s eyes as the clang of its impact rings out. The irises and pupils contract to points and she crumples to the floor, the camera zooming out to expose Mulia standing behind her. Next the baker-turned-ninja darts across the car, dropping the cookware and unsheathing a katana in whose blade the cake’s reflection becomes visible.)
(The view changes to a horizontally split screen, with Mulia charging left to right in the top half and the cake slowly moving in the opposite direction across the bottom. She raises her blade; snap to black, with three slashes of light appearing one by one, then cut to a blurry shot of the cake. Mulia lands in front of it on her hind legs, holding the katana with its point upward, and the camera pans past her just enough to expose the cake again. The focus shifts to the background as it falls apart into sugary frosted rubble, then shifts back to Mulia for a slow zoom.)
Pinkie: (voice over) …putting an end to the Cakes’ dreams of taking first prize!
(On the end of this, wipe back to reality, fullscreen and properly focused. Pinkie is still leaning hard into Mulia’s flinching face.)
Pinkie: (scornfully) Huh. I hope you’re proud of yourself, Mulia. (Longer shot; Mulia has hunched down on her belly.)
Twilight: Pinkie, stop! This is ridiculous! Look at her!
(The mule is now so badly unstrung that every part of her is shivering with fright.)
Pinkie: Huh. I guess you’re right.
Twilight: Thank you!
Pinkie: (blowing bubbles, pacing, sighing) But I was so sure that it was one of the other bitter bakers that destroyed the MMMM. That way, their delicious dessert would reign supreme. (eyeing Donutopia) I mean, just look at Joe’s Donutopia. It’s a spectacular city of donutty delight—
(Cut to Applejack, Rainbow, and Mulia, all of whom look ready to chomp into it, and pan slowly as happy little murmurs drift around them.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) —topped temptingly in sprinkle-licious sprinkles. (Cut to the plate of gleaming éclairs as they are held up.) And Gustave’s éclairs look incredibly edible with glistening glaziness.
(Zoom out during this last description; Fluttershy and Rarity lean toward the stack, wearing ear-to-ear smiles. The next cut frames a close-up of the moose; zoom out slowly.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) But then there’s Mulia Mild’s mousse moose. (She leans over to it, blowing bubbles, and sighs happily.) Why, this mouth-wateringly marvelous mousse moose tempts the taste buds with his silky smooth, yummy-nummy chocolaty-ness.
(On the latter part of this, cut to a slow pan across the other three smiling competitors—Gustave drooling a bit—as well as Applejack and Rainbow. She then leans toward her bosses’ ruined entry as Fluttershy and Rarity pace behind her.)
Pinkie: So why did this criminal devour the Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness— (Her perspective, gesturing toward the other goodies.) —while leaving this trio of tasty treats untouched?
(Cut to the mouth of a tunnel as the train shoots into it, then back inside the car. The view fades to black, there is a squelching noise and a shrill scream, and the lights come back up to frame all the ponies except Twilight and Applejack, as well as Gustave. Five jaws drop wide open, ten eyes bug out, and one pink throat gets out a strangled little cry; cut to the platform on which Mulia’s moose had stood. Nothing is left but the head and a few half-chewed limbs.)
(Two quick pans reveal that Donutopia now lies in ruins and that there are only a few heavily gnawed survivors of Gustave’s éclair stack. Cut to a long shot of the group and zoom in on Pinkie.)
Pinkie: Now I have no idea who do-doned it!
(Snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a slow pan across the tableau. Gustave, Joe, and Mulia sadly inspect the debris left from their efforts, while the ponies have gathered at the far end of the car.)
Pinkie: This mystery gets more mysterious every minute!
Twilight: Well, you have to stop the wild accusations and get to the truth. Everypony, go back to your cars while we do a little investigating.
(On the end of this, cut to the car’s rear door. Fluttershy and Rainbow fly over the distrustful Mulia, who gives Gustave a hairy eyeball before walking out ahead of him. Back to the two sleuths; Twilight floats the deerstalker and bowler off their heads and settles a saddlebag onto her back.)
Twilight: Okay, Pinkie. (The hats trade places and settle down.) In order to really solve this mystery— (taking pipe from Pinkie’s mouth) —we’re gonna have to find clues.
(Giving the stem a quick wipe with a levitated handkerchief, she gets her lips around it and blows some bubbles. A moment later, she floats it in front of herself while stepping by Pinkie.)
Twilight: Now you were here at the scene of the crime all night. (Shocked gasp from Pinkie.)
Pinkie: You’re not accusing me, are you?
Twilight: No! (Bubble.) But maybe you saw something that will help us.
Pinkie: I saw a silhouette in the moonlight.
Twilight: Good. Let’s retrace your steps.
(The pink assistant stands on her hind legs, salutes, then drops to all fours so she can walk slowly backwards toward the rear door. Surprise on Twilight’s face gives way to a look of weary realization that her friend has taken the advice a bit too literally, but she nevertheless plods ahead to keep pace.)
(Dissolve to the exterior of one car and pan to follow their silhouettes as they move from one to another. Pinkie is now walking straight ahead.)
Pinkie: Then I chased the culprit down the train towards the caboose. (Cut to inside it; they open the door and look in.) But when I got there, he was gone. (Twilight steps in, levitating the pipe.)
Twilight: Hmmm…
(A few glances and bubbles later, the camera cuts back to Pinkie, who proudly crosses her right legs over her left.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Aha! (Face falls; pan quickly to her.) Our first clue!
(She magically opens her bag and brings out a manila envelope; Pinkie gallops in, but not in time to see her drop something in from near the stove. The envelope is quickly sealed/stowed and the bag closed.)
Twilight: I think I know who did it, Pinkie.
Pinkie: Already?
Twilight: Yes. But I need more evidence to confirm. Tell me what happened next. (Pinkie thinks hard.)
Pinkie: I heard somepony else in the dessert car and chased them up to the engine.
(Wipe to the engine, where Twilight is surveying the mounded coal ready for the furnace. Pinkie peeks in from around the doorframe.)
Pinkie: But when I got there…
(Zoom out to frame a light tan, brown-eyed earth pony stallion at the throttle. Brown mane/tail, red bandana around neck, striped engineer’s cap, cutie mark of a blowing train whistle.)
Pinkie: …all I saw was the conductor shoveling coal. (Close-up of him.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) The conductor, huh?
(He gets a mild surprise when his cap floats off his head and over to her, flipping upside down in the bargain. Twilight peeks inside and gasps as her eyes grow a few sizes.)
Twilight: But that doesn’t make any sense.
(Up comes the envelope, which drops into the cap; by the time Pinkie can get close enough, it is already out, sealed, and packed away. The cap is returned to its owner as the demoted detective gives Twilight a slightly dirty look.)
Twilight: What happened next, Pinkie? (Pinkie thinks.)
Pinkie: Well… (switching hats, racing off) …I went back to the dessert car!
(Cut to it; Twilight walks in as Pinkie plies a magnifying glass here and there. Her last inspection carries her right back to the slightly vexed unicorn, who gives her a searching glance. As her eyes and ears broadcast dejection, both mares remove their hats for another telekinetic switch.)
Twilight: Yes? (Pinkie thinks hard.)
Pinkie: The curtains mysteriously closed— (Cut to one; she continues o.s.) —all on their own! (Pan to Twilight, rubbing her chin.)
Twilight: Interesting. Anything else?
Pinkie: (trotting along) I heard hoofsteps, a loud thud… (She runs into the rear door.) …and then they were gone!
(Cut to Twilight, now walking slowly along the car and lost in thought.)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) When I opened the curtains, I saw that the portrait by the door was all crooked.
(Zoom out to frame both on the end of this, Pinkie pointing in its direction. The equine sleuth moves in for a very close look, while the assistant tries to peek over her shoulder.)
Twilight: Oh, my! (eyes nearly touching the canvas) What is that?
(Cut to behind them, the camera positioned so that her head blocks the painting from view. Out comes the trusty envelope, which floats into and out of the gap too fast for Pinkie to see whatever might have gone into it. Once it is back in the saddlebag, Pinkie’s frustration gets the better of her, in the form of a growl and steam shooting from both ears. Now Twilight turns away from the wall, allowing a view of the painting—and the fact that the stallion subject has lost the long eyelashes that became visible after the cake took a hit.)
Twilight: What next, Pinkie? (Pinkie calms down.)
Pinkie: That’s it. I was here guarding the cake the rest of the night.
(This claim earns her a very skeptical look from the purple eyes.)
Pinkie: (reluctantly) I mean…I slept by the cake the rest of the night.
Twilight: And when you woke up, half the cake was gone?
Pinkie: (with renewed fire) Exactly!
Twilight: By Jove, I think I’ve got it! (Cut to Pinkie; she continues o.s.) Call everypony back! We have a cake culprit to catch!
(Dissolve to a close-up of the quadruple-decker wreck and zoom out to frame all but the two gumshoes gathered around it.)
Mulia: (stammering) Why are we all here again?
(A door is heard opening; cut to Twilight and Pinkie, who have just entered from the rear one. The unicorn balances her pipe on her hoof.)
Twilight: I bet you’re wondering why you’re all here again.
Joe: (to Mulia) She’s good. (Mulia nods; the two advance slowly.)
Twilight: (pipe in mouth) We have discovered the true culprit of this cake carnage.
(She gets a bit ahead of Pinkie on the end of this, prompting the latter to scramble and catch up.)
Gustave: But how?
Twilight: Well, you see, when committing a crime, it’s crucial that one never leaves behind clues… (floating pipe away, bringing out envelope) …especially an obvious clue like…
(Close-up of it on the end of this line; the flap opens and a sky-blue feather floats out. Zoom out to frame the three bakers, Fluttershy, and Rainbow.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) …this! (A round of gasps.)
Pinkie: Aha! A blue feather! (advancing to face Rainbow) I knew it was you… (She pivots around to…) …Gustave LeGrand! (Cut to Twilight.)
Twilight: (annoyed) Pinkie, Gustave doesn’t have blue feathers!
Pinkie: (pawing through Gustave’s plumage) No, ’cause he’s been dyeing them!
(Or not, as the only thing she finds underneath is a patch of bare gray skin.)
Twilight: No, Pinkie!
(Cut to a flashback of the caboose’s rear door opening and Pinkie skidding onto the platform, as seen in Act One.)
Twilight: (voice over) Remember how when you chased the suspect to the caboose, they suddenly disappeared? (Inside; she looks around.) That’s because they flew away! (She walks off.) But the thief did leave a little something behind. Didn’t you… (Tilt up to the ceiling.) …Rainbow Dash?!?
(Sure enough, the blue speedster is up by a light fixture. Cut to a close-up of her in the present—caught, and she knows it—and zoom out on the next line to show Twilight staring her down nose-to-nose. Applejack and Fluttershy look on.)
Rainbow: I…I-I don’t even like cake! (Cut to Pinkie.)
Pinkie: So Rainbow Dash did it! Case solved!
Twilight: (from o.s.) Case not solved. (Pinkie drops to the floor; cut to Twilight and company.) Because when we went to the engine— (bringing out envelope) —I saw the conductor’s hat.
(Her perspective of the group; it floats between her and them.)
Twilight: And inside the hat was… (Flap up; out floats a pink strand of hair.) …this!
(It is Fluttershy’s turn to be caught out now, but Pinkie gets in Rainbow’s face instead.)
Pinkie: So it was you! (poking Rainbow’s mane) That pink hair came from your rainbow-colored mane! (Rainbow pushes her away.)
Rainbow: I don’t have pink in my mane, Pinkie!
Pinkie: So you’re wearing a wig?
(She extends her neck upward to an impossible length, just long enough to let her snatch a tuft of hair in her teeth and pull.)
Rainbow: Ow! Cut it out!
Twilight: (sternly) Pinkie, remember?
(Another Act One flashback: Pinkie throws open the door to the engine and the camera zooms out to frame part of the engineer’s striped cap in the foreground.)
Twilight: (voice over) You chased a pony to the engine— (The silhouetted figure stokes the furnace.) —where you thought you saw the conductor shoveling coal. (Pinkie gallops away.) But that wasn’t the conductor at all. It was…
(A short pan frames the figure in full light: Fluttershy, dressed in the engineer’s cap and bandana. She removes the former item with a guilty look.)
Twilight: (voice over) …Fluttershy!
(A swiveling transition, similar to the ones that bookended Pinkie’s imagined scenario involving Joe, brings the action back to the here and now. She glares down at the huddled yellow pegasus.)
Fluttershy: (shuddering) Oh, my.
Pinkie: (jumping toward her) You’re going down, Fluttershy!
Twilight: Pinkie! (The earth pony halts in midair and settles to her hooves.) But then another clue confounded my suspicions.
(Swivel change to a third Act One flashback: Pinkie sitting watch in the dim dessert car. The shades come down, blacking out the screen.)
Twilight: (voice over) You were guarding the cake when the curtains mysteriously closed. But that’s no mystery. (A unicorn’s horn begins to glow, faintly illuminating Rarity’s mane behind it.) That’s magic.
(Cut to Pinkie, blundering sightlessly in the dark; the lights have come up just a bit. A shadow races past.)
Twilight: (voice over) But when the thief tried to make their great escape…
(Rarity runs smack into the painting by the rear door and knocks it crooked before getting out. Its subject gains the long eyelashes only after she has fumbled her way back from it; zoom in on these.)
Twilight: (voice over) …they left a little addition to the portrait.
(Swivel change to an extreme close-up of a set of false eyelashes being held aloft by Twilight—the third piece of evidence she retrieved. Zoom out to frame her, Applejack, and Joe; she walks along, the camera panning to follow until she stops in front of Rarity.)
Twilight: (knowingly) Has anypony else noticed that Rarity is wearing her hair rather differently today? (Pinkie glares at her as well.)
Rarity: (stammering) What? Is it a crime to change one’s style now and again? Why, I think it’s a crime not to.
Twilight: Really?
(A short burst of magic lifts the forward-swept purple curl away from Rarity’s face, exposing a right eye without lashes. She drops to her haunches.)
Rarity: (sobbing) Fine, I’m guilty! (Her perspective of Applejack and the three bakers.) I wear false eyelashes!
(Her reaction is perhaps a bit over-the-top, considering that “The Best Night Ever” showed her using this particular accessory in full view of the other ponies. Cut back to her, now instantly calmed down and even smiling as she gestures to the cake.)
Rarity: Oh, and I took a bite of the cake.
Fluttershy: So did I.
Rainbow: Aw, nuts. So did I.
Rarity: You just made it sound so delectable.
Fluttershy: So tasty.
Rainbow: And boy, was it! (Each addresses Pinkie in turn.)
Rarity: I only meant to take a little, ladylike bite.
Fluttershy: But it was so good.
Rainbow: Yeah, I just dove right in! (They drop their heads in turn.)
Fluttershy: But I’m really, really sorry.
Rarity: Terribly sorry.
Rainbow: Sorry, Pinkie.
Pinkie: That’s okay. (smiling) At least this mystery is finally solved.
Twilight: But it isn’t! (pacing) We’ve figured out who ate the Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness— (Cut to the other ruins; zoom out to frame her as she continues.) —but we still don’t know who devoured the other bakers’ goods.
Pinkie: You’re right, Twilight! You know what we have to do?
Twilight: Well…yes, I do. Do you?
Pinkie: (rearing up, grabbing magnifying glass) Look for clues!
(With a relieved smile, the violet unicorn magically shifts the bowler away from Pinkie’s head, not bothering to don it herself, and transfers the deerstalker. A beaming Pinkie zips off into the crowd, peering and sniffing as she climbs over the three confessed cake-wreckers and the chefs.)
Pinkie: Uh-huh…uh-huh…uh-huh…
(She returns to Twilight, who has ditched her saddlebag, and blows on the bubble pipe.)
Twilight: Well, Pinkie, did you find the devourer of the desserts?
Pinkie: I most certainly did. It was…none other than…
(Quick pan to…)
Pinkie: (from o.s.) …the bakers!
(A gasp from all the ponies; cut back to Twilight and Pinkie, the latter throwing the pipe upward.)
Pinkie: First of all… (Zip over to Gustave; the pipe catches up to her.) …Gustave has mousse in his mustache!
(During this line, she stretches it out to expose a lump of the brown chocolate, the camera cutting to an extreme close-up as she points it out. Letting it snap back, she charges over to Joe.)
Pinkie: And Joe has éclair in his hair!
(This time, she points to his mane as she speaks and an extreme close-up shows a blot of icing, filling, and crumbs up near the base of his horn. Her next move is to get up close and personal with Mulia, snagging a fold of one saggy cheek in her teeth and stretching it out until she can hook it on her pipe stem.)
Pinkie: (shaking it; sprinkles fall out) And Mulia has sprinkles in her wrinkles!
(When she lets go, the cheek hangs off the side of Mulia’s face for a moment instead of snapping back.)
Twilight: (scornfully) What do you say, bakers?
Gustave: Oh, I am so sorry, Mulia. But Pinkie made your mousse moose sound… (licking lips) …trés magnifique!
Joe: (to Gustave) And Pinkie’s description of your éclairs really did make ’em sound scrumptious!
Mulia: (to Joe) And the way she spoke of your Donutopia… (sighing blissfully) …was too delectable to resist!
(All three work their way from guilt to regret and forgiveness during this exchange. Cut to the Canterlot train station as the train pulls in, then back to the group—Pinkie with pipe in mouth. Rarity has replaced the false eyelashes she lost during her raid on the cake.)
Twilight: Well, everypony, we finally have the mystery solved.
(Cut to Gustave, holding up the bits of his éclairs. On the next line, zoom out to show Joe and Mulia sitting on their haunches with their own shattered remains.)
Gustave: Yes, but now we don’t have any desserts to enter into the contest! (Cut to Pinkie; she has put away the pipe.)
Pinkie: I think we can fix that. Come on!
(She hops off the train, followed by Twilight and the three bakers.)
Pinkie: (voice over, dictating) “Dear Princess Celestia…”
(Dissolve to a long shot of Canterlot, tilting slowly down from the uppermost spires toward the main gate by the waterfall.)
Pinkie: (voice over) “Today I learned that it’s not good to jump to conclusions.”
(Cut to a garden on the grounds of Canterlot Castle. Mulia pulls her wheeled platform, which now carries a tarp-covered bulk; Gustave and Joe come in behind her, followed by Pinkie and company. Other desserts have been/are being set up on tables, and two earth pony stallions are judging. Pinkie has put away her deerstalker.)
Pinkie: (voice over) “You have to find out all the facts before saying somepony did something.”
(As she continues, the tarp is whisked away to reveal a rather interesting four-way dessert combo. The Cakes’ construction has been augmented with éclair borders on the bottom three tiers, the moose head and a donut border on top, a layer of donuts on each of the other three, and judiciously placed extra icing.)
Pinkie: (voice over) “If you don’t, you could end up blaming somepony for something they never did. This could hurt their feelings—” (Impressed, the judges give it a blue ribbon.) “—and it can make you look really foolish.” (They move on; Princess Celestia steps up.) “So from now on, I will always make sure to get all the facts.”
(The sovereign licks her chops at the sight as Pinkie zips up next to her.)
Pinkie: How’s that for a lesson, Princess Celestia?
(A slice on a plate is floated out under Twilight’s control.)
Twilight: Care for a bite?
Pinkie: I don’t mind if I do!
(Mentor and student are greatly surprised to watch her leap straight up and o.s.; she comes down on top of the amalgamation, consuming it in one belly-busting bite and leaving the rest of the travelers floored. As all share a good laugh, a few chomps are taken out of the picture, leaving blackness exposed behind them, and the rest of the view then snaps to black.)
A CANTERLOT WEDDING—PART ONE
Written by Meghan McCarthy
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Note: Promotional materials for this episode have spelled the name of the bride-to-be
as both “Cadence” and “Cadance.” I have chosen to use the former spelling, based
on the fact that virtually all characters introduced to this point have names that are
either existing words or derived from them. (The fact that I spent four years in
junior high and high school marching band, and can still hear most of the drum
cadences in my sleep, is entirely coincidental.)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to the daytime sun and a stretch of quiet blue sky. Two butterflies wing down from above, the camera following their descent into the park land outside Ponyville; they flutter on over the heads of Twilight Sparkle and her five friends, gathered for a picnic. Rarity, decked out in a sun hat and pink neckerchief, sighs contentedly. Cut to an extreme close-up of Spike’s running feet, then to her and Fluttershy.)
Rarity: It is gorgeous out. Just gorgeous!
(The feet again, then Applejack and Rainbow Dash, respectively sipping a beverage through a straw and eating a sandwich. Now the scaly violet limbs bound over a brook, and Twilight levitates an apple from the picnic basket. Before she can get her teeth into the fruit, Spike’s approaching footsteps break her concentration so that she drops it; she recoils a bit at the interruption and he finally sprints in.)
Spike: (badly out of breath) Twi…light!…I…have… (Cut to Fluttershy and Rarity; he continues o.s.) …let me just…
(Back to him as he heaves—first for air, then to belch a scroll onto the grass. Smiling, the violet unicorn floats it up to eye level and unrolls it.)
Twilight: (reading) “Dear Twilight…” (Zoom out slowly.) “I am sure you are as excited as I am about the upcoming wedding in Canterlot.” (Surprised, she turns toward Applejack.) Wedding?
(She gets a reassuring smile from the farmer, returns it, and eyes the parchment again.)
Twilight: “I will be presiding over the ceremony, but would very much like you and your friends to help with the preparations for this wonderful occasion.” (Close-up.) “Fluttershy, I would like you and your songbird choir to provide the music.”
(Cut to Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rarity on the end of this.)
Fluttershy: Oh, my goodness! What an honor! (Back to Twilight.)
Twilight: “Pinkie Pie, I can think of no one more qualified than you to host the reception.”
Pinkie: (cartwheeling over to Spike) Hip…hip…hooray!
(The sudden display of gymnastics upsets a teapot and leaves a hoofprint in a cake. Twilight sets the first upright and smoothes out the second as she keeps reading.)
Twilight: “Applejack, you will be in charge of the catering for the reception.” (Cut to Applejack and a bored Rainbow.)
Applejack: Well, color me pleased as punch!
Twilight: (from o.s.) “Rainbow Dash…” (The pegasus yawns; back to Twilight as she continues.) “…I would very much appreciate it if you could perform a Sonic Rainboom as the bride and groom complete their ‘I do’s.’”
(On the end of this, the camera cuts back to the pair. Rainbow’s brain slips far enough out of gear to make her bite down on the hoof she was using to cover her yawn.)
Rainbow: (hovering) YES!!
Twilight: “Rarity, you will be responsible for designing the dresses for the bride and her bridesmaids.” (Cut to Rarity on the end of this.)
Rarity: (flabbergasted) Princess Celestia wants me to… (Gibberish.) …wedding dress… (Again.) …for a Canterlot wedding…
(Her tongue freewheels a bit more as she totters on her hind legs and eventually keels over, Fluttershy’s efforts to catch her notwithstanding. Stay on the supine unicorn and her hat, which wafts down gently beside her.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) “And as for you, Twilight…” (Cut to her and Spike; zoom in slowly.) “…you will be playing the most important role of all—making sure that everything goes as planned. See you all very soon. Yours, Princess Celestia.”
(Having finished reading, she begins to scrutinize the page while turning it this way and that.)
Twilight: But…I don’t understand. (Roll it up.) Who’s getting married?
Spike: Oh! Wait! (pulling out a second scroll) Uh, I was probably supposed to give you this one first.
(Cut to her on the end of this, she rolls her eyes wearily and levitates it into reading position. The others gather around her during the next line as the camera zooms out slowly. Rarity has done away with her hat and scarf.)
Twilight: (reading) “Princess Celestia cordially invites you to the wedding of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and…”
(The document is suddenly dropped from view and the camera zooms in to a close-up of the violet face, whose instantly shocked owner sucks in a sharp gasp.)
Twilight: …my brother?!?
(Snap to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to on overhead view of the group and zoom in slowly on the dumbfounded Twilight as the others gather in closer.)
Applejack: Your brother’s gettin’ married? (Close-up; she shakes Twilight’s hoof.) Congratulations, Twilight! That’s great news!
Twilight: (sourly, rolling sending away scroll, pacing) Yeah, great news—that I just got from a wedding invitation! Not from my brother, but from a piece of paper!
(She casts a disgusted glance toward Canterlot, which appears to be enclosed in a spherical pink bubble.)
Twilight: Thanks a lot, Shining Armor. (to the others) I mean, really. He couldn’t tell me personally?
(A nearby sandwich is floated up and used as a puppet for said brother, its top piece of bread flapping in time with the words.)
Twilight: (deep voice) Hey, Twilight. Just thought you should know, I’m making a really big decision that changes everything. Oh, never mind, you’ll hear about it when you get the invitation.
(Cut to the others, now worried, on the end of this, then back to her. The borrowed lunch has been put away.)
Twilight: (mockingly) Princess Mi Amore Cadenza? (normal tone, very angry) Who in the hoof is that? (She snorts out steam; Fluttershy flies over.)
Fluttershy: Uh, Twilight? Are you okay?
Twilight: (sadly) Sorry. It’s just that Shining Armor and I have always been so close. He’s my BBBFF.
(This acronym elicits a round of befuddled stares from the rest of the crew.)
Twilight: Big Brother Best Friend Forever? (Pan to them.)
Other ponies, Spike: Ohhh!
(Cut to a long shot of unoccupied meadow and pan to frame them on the start of the next line.)
Twilight: Before I came here and learned the importance of friendship, Shining Armor was the only pony I ever really accepted as a friend.
Wistful acoustic guitar melody, moderate 4 (D flat major)
(Dissolve to a close-up of her; a bird perches on her raised front hoof for a moment, and she nuzzles her face against it before it flies off. She begins to pace the grass.)
Tambourine/bongos in; more upbeat half-time feel
Twilight: When I was just a filly, I found it rather silly
To see how many other ponies I could meet
(Dissolve to a close-up of her younger self before she earned her cutie mark. She walks down a Canterlot street, floating a book in front of her face to read as two other fillies play hopscotch.)
Twilight: I had my books to read, didn’t know that I would ever need
Other ponies to make my life complete
(In close-up, she runs flat into a larger pony’s white chest. A shaggy fringe of mane, striped in three shades of blue, hangs into view.)
But there was one colt that I cared for
(Head-on: a unicorn colt with blue eyes, whose scowl gives way to a broad smile that brings one to Filly TS’s face.)
I knew he would be there for me
Organ/synthesizer/drums in; background lyrics in square brackets
(The book hits the ground and she bounds cheerfully around Shining Armor, who rears up. His cutie mark is now visible: three blue stars above a purple shield that displays a pink six-pointed star, the one that will later appear as part of Twilight’s mark. The tips of his hooves are the same color as the medium blue portions of his mane/tail.)
Twilight: My Big Brother Best Friend Forever
(He gives her a playful noogie and hugs her.)
Like two peas in a pod, we did everything together
(Wipe to the two in a meadow; he watches her fly a kite. When she accidentally lets go of the string in her teeth, he catches it in his and passes it back.)
He taught me how to fly a kite [Best friend forever]
(It drifts across the screen; behind it, wipe to an apple on a table. Both lean down toward it, but he magically slices it in half so they can both eat.)
We never had a single fight [We did everything together]
(Cut to the two in a hall of Canterlot Castle; Shining watches Filly TS trying to levitate a book and beams when she keeps it aloft. Quick pan to a squad of unicorn/pegasus guards on a balcony; they salute, and the camera tilts down to the two siblings standing below them. He copies the gesture.)
We shared our hopes, we shared our dreams
(Dissolve to the moment of now-grown Twilight’s departure, riding with Spike in the pegasus-drawn chariot that will take her to Ponyville. She waves goodbye to Shining, whose downcast face is a mirror for hers. An image of Twilight’s face fades partially into view over the scene to sing the next line; tilt up to follow both it and the chariot rising up into the sky.)
Drums/bongos/tambourine out
Twilight: I miss him more than I realized, it seems
(The faces of her five equine friends fade into view around her.)
Drums/bongos/tambourine in
Other ponies: Your Big Brother Best Friend Forever
(All six fade away; the clouds form into the siblings’ outlines and begin to play catch.)
Like two peas in a pod, you did everything together
(Filly TS’s toss sails over Shining’s head; he smiles and races after it, fading from sight as he approaches Canterlot. Tilt down to show Twilight looking up toward the scene.)
Twilight: And though he’s oh so far away, I hoped that he would stay
Drums/bongos/tambourine out
(She walks slowly across the meadow, away from the others.)
Twilight: My Big Brother Best Friend Forever
(Dissolve to a long shot of her gazing up toward the mountain capital, then to a close-up. The camera tracks around her as an image of said brother superimposes itself, and stops when both are in profile, with her in front. A few tears gather under her closed eyelids.)
Twilight: Forever
(One of them falls as the specter inclines its head toward her and then fades away.)
Song ends
(Applejack is the first to approach the glum unicorn.)
Applejack: (pointing back over shoulder) As one of your PFF’s… (Puzzled looks from the others, on the receiving end.) …Pony Friends Forever…
Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity, Spike: Ohhh!
Applejack: (as Twilight walks off) …I want to tell you that I think your brother sounds like a real good guy.
Twilight: (reaching picnic spread) He is pretty special. (sitting on haunches; Fluttershy/Rainbow cross to her) I mean, they don’t just let anypony be captain of the Royal Guard.
(The look that sweeps across Rarity’s face suggests that her mental transmission is about to blow. Just as quickly, she regains her composure and zips over to Twilight.)
Rarity: So let me get this straight. We’re helping out with the wedding of not only a princess… (Cut briefly to the other four ponies during the previous, then back.) …but a captain of the Royal Guard?
Twilight: (shrugging resignedly) I guess we are.
(Just as in the prologue, the white unicorn’s brain disconnects itself from the rest of her and she goes down in a blabbering heap. Now, though, Twilight telekinetically moves a pillow up to cushion her head. The camera zooms out from the out-of-sorts egghead to frame the other four, chattering merrily away—Fluttershy and Rainbow doing loops overhead while Applejack and Pinkie dance a bit in the foreground.)
(Dissolve to a long shot of Canterlot, the camera pointing over the Ponyville rooftops. Railroad tracks snake across the green outskirts and up the mountain, and puffs of steam rise from behind a distant hill to mark a train’s progress toward the great city. It soon rolls into clear view; cut to a close-up of Applejack and Rainbow, with their heads stuck out two adjacent windows.)
Rainbow: A Sonic Rainboom? At a wedding? Can you say “best wedding ever”?
(Pinkie puts her head out from the next one up and takes a deep breath. Long shot of the train as it rolls into a tunnel.)
Pinkie: (echoing) BEST WEDDING EVER!!
(It begins to emerge at a higher level. Close-up of Fluttershy and Rarity at windows as the light hits them; Spike is next to the former, positioned between them.)
Spike: So you all get to help with the big fancy wedding—but I’m the one who gets to host the bachelor party! (Into a tunnel.) I have just one question—what’s a bachelor party?
(Inside the car as it rolls back out into daylight. All but Twilight are at these windows, and the five mares have a laugh as a slightly confused baby dragon backs off. Zoom out to frame Twilight staring morosely out a window on the other side, well away from the others, then cut to just outside here as Applejack walks up.)
Applejack: Why the long face, sugar cube?
Twilight: I’m just thinking about Shining Armor. Ever since I moved to Ponyville, we’ve been seeing each other less and less. (Inside.) And now that he’s starting a new family with this Princess Mi Amore Cal-what’s-her-name, we’ll probably never see each other. (Outside.)
Applejack: Come on now. You’re his sister. He’ll always make time for you.
Twilight: (bitterly, magically pulling down shade) Couldn’t seem to make time to tell me he was getting married.
(The train chugs along. Dissolve to a bridge, where a checkpoint has been set up and staffed by two guards—revealed as unicorns when the camera zooms in. They hold spears crossed to block the path; just beyond the checkpoint is the smooth expanse of the pink bubble that encloses Canterlot.)
Pinkie: (from inside train, excitedly) We’re here! We’re here!
(The guards move their spears aside and the train passes through the barrier—it is a force field. Inside, the travelers are slightly unsettled by the pink energy washing over them; outside again, the last cars roll by and the field re-establishes itself as the guards re-cross their spears. Cut to the roof of the Canterlot station, where four guards stand watch. The tops of the train cars move into view and decelerate; cut to a head-on view of it, steam billowing around the wheels as it stops. Many more guards are posted on the platform.)
Rainbow: (from inside) Whoa!
(Cut to an open doorway; she peeks out.)
Rainbow: (as Applejack, Rarity do the same) What’s with all the guards? (Close-up of the stoic ponies, tilting up slowly.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) I’m sure they’re just taking the necessary precautions. (Pan across the roof.) Royal weddings do bring out the strangest ponies.
(On the end of this, cut back to the trio, now on the platform. A shuddery inhalation draws their worried gaze; pan to the source—Pinkie, standing in the doorway. She lets go with a sneeze that ejects a burst of confetti and streamers from her nose, then trots cheerfully out with Fluttershy close behind. Twilight stays at the doorway.)
Rarity: Now let’s get going! We’ve got work to do!
Applejack: (to Twilight) And you’ve got a big brother to go congratulate.
Twilight: (stepping off, very snarky) Yeah. Congratulate… (Two guards uncross their spears to let her by.) …and then give him a piece of my mind.
(Her words wipe the smiles off their faces and stamp worry across those of the other five. Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of Princess Celestia, peering through a telescope on a tower’s uppermost balcony to survey the city. Pan/tilt down to frame an irritated Twilight on the move across a well-guarded courtyard, then cut to another garrison atop a wall of Canterlot Castle. A white unicorn in gold-trimmed violet armor and helmet salutes; all except the spear-carriers return the gesture and move out. His three-tone blue tail and helmet crest, and the pink six-pointed star on his armor chest plate, mark him as Shining. Cut back to the approaching Twilight on the start of the next line.)
Twilight: I’ve got something to say to you, mister!
(Spears are brandished over the wall as Shining leans out. He smiles and removes his helmet, prompting mild surprise and a lowering of spears by his subordinates. Under the headgear, his mane is a bit longer than it was in his youth; his voice carries a hint of “surfer dude.”)
Shining: Twilie! (He gallops down the steps to her.) Ah, I’ve missed you, kid. How was the train ride? I— (She backs away from his attempt at a hug.)
Twilight: How dare you not tell me in person that you were getting married! I’m your sister, for pony’s sake!
Shining: It’s not my fault. Princess Celestia has requested a major increase in security. Didn’t you see all the guards at the train station?
Twilight: (trotting away, sourly) Yeah. There’s a big wedding coming up. Maybe you heard about it? (He crosses to her.)
Shining: It has nothing to do with the wedding. A threat has been made against Canterlot. (She raises her eyes, softening a bit.) We don’t know who’s responsible for it, but Princess Celestia asked that I help provide additional protection. (He lifts her chin.) This, you need to see.
(Taking a step back to put himself well in the clear, he squeezes his eyes shut and begins to concentrate fiercely. His horn responds with a glow and sudden flare of light; Twilight shields her eyes from the intensity as he aims the appendage straight up. A beam of energy lances toward the top of the force field surrounding Canterlot, causing the entire surface to pulse briefly with light when it hits. As the younger unicorn watches with amazement, the elder winds down the spell and winces, putting a hoof to his temple—it has taken quite a bit out of him. A hitch of breath and squinch of the eyes, and he has regained his composure.)
Shining: (trotting up steps; Twilight follows) The burden of keeping Canterlot safe and secure rests squarely on my shoulders. Staying focused on the task at hand has been my top priority. (She thinks for a second, then hustles to catch up on a bridge.)
Twilight: Okay, okay, I get it. You’ve got a really important job protecting all of Canterlot with a force field only you can conjure up. But still, how could you not tell me about something as big as your wedding? Am I not that important to you anymore?
Shining: Hey. You’re my little sister. Of course you’re important to me. (smiling slyly) But I’d understand if you didn’t want to be my best mare now.
Twilight: (smiling) You want me to be your best mare?
Shining: Well, yeah.
Twilight: (bowing) I’d be honored.
(They share a quick hug; she breaks it with an irritated glare and a hoof poked into his chest.)
Twilight: But I’m still pretty ticked you’re marrying somepony I don’t even know! When did you even meet this Princess Mi Amore Cadenza?
Shining: Twilie, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza is Cadence. (Cut to her; he continues o.s.) Your old foal-sitter.
Twilight: (surprised) Cadence? (smiling) As in the Cadence? (head shake; more animated) As in the greatest foal-sitter in all the history of foal-sitters?
(A chuckle from the o.s. stallion; back to him.)
Shining: You tell me. She was your foal-sitter. (She looks over the side.)
Twilight: Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!
(Zoom out quickly from the pair; the scene is swallowed up in black, which resolves into one of Filly TS’s pupils. She is in a bedroom of Canterlot Castle and levitating her Smarty Pants doll out of a toy chest. In walks a young pink winged unicorn mare, her purple/pink/pale-yellow striped mane/tail tied back with blue-green ribbons; her eyes are a bit darker than the purple stripes.)
Twilight: (voice over) Cadence is only the most amazing pony ever!
(Her past self lets the toy drop and gallops over to hug the young Cadence. The latter’s rearing-up exposes her cutie mark, a light blue heart-shaped jewel with a faint green tint, trimmed in gold lace.)
Twilight: (voice over) She’s beautiful…
(“Iris in” to the pair on the grass; Young CA magically applies a Band-Aid to a boo-boo on the teary-eyed filly’s hind leg as she sits on her haunches.)
Twilight: (voice over) …she’s caring… (Young CA wipes away Filly TS’s tears and gets a smile.) …she’s kind…
(“Iris in” to the little unicorn being pushed by her sitter on a swing set and zoom in.)
Filly TS: I am so lucky to have you as my foal-sitter!
Young CA: I’m the one who’s lucky, Twilight.
Filly TS: (with a disbelieving snort) You’re a princess. (Cadence rolls her eyes…) I’m just a regular old unicorn. (…and grabs the foal in a hug.)
Young CA: (lifting her off swing) You are anything but a regular old unicorn.
(On the end of this, cut to a close-up of Filly TS as she is set down on a patch of ground. A longer shot frames them standing on a picnic blanket, face to face.)
Filly TS, Young CA: Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake!
Clap your hooves and do a little shake!
(Accompanied by the following actions. “Sunshine, sunshine”: trot in place. “Ladybugs awake”: hunch down, cover eyes, then uncover them. “Clap your hooves”: sit on haunches and tap front hooves together, one at a time. “Do a little shake”: stand up and wiggle rumps toward each other. They wrap up the performance by falling on their backs and giggling.)
(“Iris in” to them out for a walk along a street, the camera panning to follow. The sound of angry voices catches them off guard; on the start of the following exchange, an arguing mare and stallion come into view. A mare and stallion face off across a table across the street where Filly TS and Young CA have stopped. He is an earth pony, Lucky: light gray coat; short, unruly, dark gray mane/tail; light blue eyes; cutie mark of three four-leaf clovers. She is a pegasus, Wild Fire: cream-colored coat; straight, dark brown mane/tail; lighter brown eyes; cutie mark of a burning automobile tire. The following lines overlap somewhat.)
Wild: I am going for a hooficure and that is that!
Lucky: You are not going!
Wild: I am! I am!
Lucky: I-I-I’ve paid for three this month! I mean, come on, please!
Wild: I-I know, but my girlfriends are all getting their hooves done! And you said, and—
Lucky: We’ve done this at least—
(During this exchange, the camera cuts briefly to Filly TS and Young CA, the latter warming up her horn to send a flurry of small hearts and a larger one across the street. On the quarreling couple’s side, this last splits into two halves, which absorb all the small ones and then snap together to heal the break. The background briefly flares pink as both pairs of eyes go wide; when the light clears, the big heart is gone and a few small ones float up from both heads. Now they are all smiles and affection thanks to Young CA’s spell; the next two lines overlap.)
Wild: Oh, sweetie…you just did that thing…
Lucky: Oh… (Chuckle.)
(Young CA allows herself a serene little smile and walks off; her charge beams after her.)
Twilight: (voice over) How many unicorns can just spread love wherever they go? I only know of one…
(Zoom in quickly through one pupil, the view returning to the present-day Twilight and Shining on the bridge.)
Twilight: (turning to Shining) …and you’re marrying her! (singsong, bounding around him) You’re marrying Cadence, you’re marrying Cadence!
(The end of her celebration takes her a short distance away, the camera panning to follow until it stops on the present-day Cadence, seen from chin to knees and chest to wings. The mane is the same three colors, but longer, no longer tied back, and curling gently upward at the ends; it reaches to her shoulder on one side and nearly to her hooves on the other. A gold necklace can also be seen. Most noticeable, though, is the fact that the mouth is drawn into a frown that Twilight clearly never expected to see, based on her shocked expression as she stops short.)
(In a head-on close-up and slight zoom out, Cadence is seen to be wearing a tiara similar to Celestia’s, but less ornate, set with a lozenge-shaped purple gem, and topped with a smaller round one. The necklace is worked so that its two ends form a heart-shaped knot at her throat.)
Cadence: (rolling her eyes impatiently) I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.
Twilight: (smiling) Cadence!
(She jumps closer and goes into their old bit. This shot reveals that the bride-to-be’s wings now darken from pink at the base to pink-violet at the tips. She stands perhaps a head taller than Twilight, wears gold shoes, and has the same general body proportions as both Celestia and Princess Luna. Like her mane, her tail is not tied back anymore.)
Twilight: Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake!
Clap your hooves and do a little shake!
(Back to Cadence on the end of this as the violet rump waggles up into view. The performance elicits not recognition, but a good dose of annoyance.)
Cadence: What are you doing? (Twilight deflates, but straightens up with a smile.)
Twilight: Cadence, it’s me! (Back to Cadence; she continues o.s.) Twilight!
Cadence: (stepping ahead) Uh-huh.
(Cut to frame both. Twilight’s hopeful smile gives way to puzzled disappointment as the haughty young princess walks past her. Shining and Cadence both smile as he lays a foreleg across her shoulders, the camera slowly zooming out to frame Twilight looking on from the foreground.)
Shining: I’ve gotta get back to my station, but Cadence will be checking in with all of you to see how things are going. I think I speak for both of us when I say we couldn’t be more excited to have you here. (to Cadence) Right, dear?
Cadence: (smiling nastily; he does not see) Absolutely.
(Cut to Twilight, who recoils at the venomous tone of this single word.)
Shining: (from o.s.) Well… (Back to all three.) …we’ll let you get to it.
(Exeunt the couple, the camera cutting to a long shot of the bridge and zooming out as Twilight stares wonderingly after them. Dissolve to a close-up of her sitting grumpily on her haunches in the kitchen of Canterlot Castle, her trusty notepad and pencil floating nearby. At the counter, Apple Fritter—one of Applejack’s kin, seen in “Mare in the Moon”—has donned a white chef’s toque and is touching up a tray of cupcakes. The blond earth pony gallops past, having traded her cowboy hat for a toque of her own and an icing bag in her mouth. Cut to the base of a towering wedding cake and tilt up to the highest tier; she has propped a ladder against it and is up top to do a bit of decorating.)
Applejack: Cake, check.
(Twilight marks it off on her pad, and Applejack gallops across with a small pickaxe in her teeth. A few scrapes float back; cut to her, shaving a bit off an ice sculpture shaped as a hollowed-out heart.)
Applejack: Ice sculpture, check.
(This too is marked off; a third gallop takes the chef past the grumbling unicorn to an oven, from which she pulls out a tray of snacks.)
Applejack: Best darn bite-size apple fritter you ever tasted…
(One of these is shoved whole into Twilight’s mouth, leaving a sprinkle of crumbs across her cheeks and causing her to smile.)
Twilight: (mouth full) Mmm! (Mark off.) Check.
(Cut to a close-up of a Shining figurine—surely meant for the wedding cake—held in one of Spike’s hands.)
Spike: (deep voice) I do. Do you?
(A short pan frames a wedding-gowned Cadence miniature in his other hand.)
Spike: (high voice) I do!
(Longer shot; he sits on a kitchen counter, playing and making loud kissing sounds with the miniatures as Twilight walks up. She has swallowed the fritter and quickly uses her magic to pull them out of his grip; he voices an embarrassed laugh under her disapproving gaze. The sound of an opening door ends the face-off.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Hiya, Princess!
(On the end of this, cut to frame Cadence entering the kitchen. Fritter and another assistant kneel as the camera pans to bring Applejack into view. She kneels as well, and Twilight and Spike look on from their counter, getting a full look at her dissatisfied expression.)
Cadence: Please, call me Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.
(Close-up of the exasperated, eye-rolling unicorn on the end of this, then back to Applejack and Cadence on the start of the following.)
Applejack: Hiya, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza! (She straightens up; Cadence forces a smile.) You come to check out what’s on the menu for your big day?
Cadence: I have!
(It disappears as soon as Applejack turns her back to lead the way across the floor; Twilight does not fail to notice. The head caterer grabs a tray of fritters in her teeth and pivots to face Cadence, who levitates one and takes a bite. Oddly, the color of her magic aura has changed since the time of Twilight’s flashback—silver-blue then, yellow-green now. Swallowing, she makes herself smile and chuckle.)
Cadence: Delicious! I love-love-love them!
(Back to the scowling unicorn on the end of this; an insincere laugh floats across before the camera returns to Applejack and Cadence. The former holds up a paper bag.)
Applejack: Aw, shucks. Why don’t you take a few to go? (Big squeaky grin; Cadence floats it up, gets it in her teeth, and heads out.) I know how you brides can be. (now o.s.) So busy you forget to get a little somethin’ in your belly.
(The bride stops near the door; pan to a nearby trash can as the bag is slung into it. Twilight allows herself a barely audible gasp of shock as Cadence departs, magically pulling the doors shut.)
Twilight: Did you see what she…
(Applejack closes the oven and gallops off, giving an unconscious “no” to the unfinished question, and Twilight stalks away. Wipe to a long shot of Celestia, looking through her balcony telescope, and pan/tilt to a guard stationed on the balcony of another tower. The camera then cuts to Rarity inside, reading glasses on and horn aglow as she stitches intently at a piece of work. Twilight paces behind her, plenty heated up.)
Twilight: Oh, you should’ve seen how she acted back there. I don’t know when she changed, but she changed! (mockingly) “Please, call me Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.”
Cadence: (from o.s.) Did I hear someone say my name?
(That voice throws a scare into Twilight; on the end of this line, cut to the open door, where she is entering with three unicorn mares close behind. These are Lyra Heartstrings, Minuette, and Twinkleshine—the second and third being part of the trio whose party invitation Twilight turned down at the start of “Mare in the Moon.” Rarity zips over, her measuring tape now hanging from her neck.)
Rarity: Your Highness! (kneeling) Let me just start by saying what an honor it is to play a role in such a momentous occasion. (She repeats the obeisance with a nervous chuckle.)
Cadence: Uh-huh. (walking past) Is my dress ready?
Rarity: (hurrying to catch up) Oh! Uh…ee…uh…yes, of course!
(They stop at the mannequin on which she was doing her dress construction.)
Rarity: Um, I’ve been working on it ever since I was given the assignment.
(Close-up of the base, tilting up slowly to frame the entire dummy in profile. The dress consists of a skirt built up from several layers of pale cream-colored fabric with yellow trim, a pale blue belt around the midsection, and a pale blue/yellow-striped sash running from one side to the other across the chest. This last item is trimmed with pale blue lace and set with a brooch consisting of a bright blue gem in a gold frame; a wreath of flowers rests atop the head.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) And I think you’ll be pleased with the results.
(Back to the pair; she lets off a nervous little titter and grins hugely as Cadence fails to be impressed.)
Cadence: (walking off) I was hoping for something with more beading and a longer train.
(The crestfallen designer levitates a notepad and quill to take this down.)
Rarity: Oh…yes, of course!
(Now Cadence eyes three other mannequins decked out in simpler versions of this dress, each a different pastel shade. Each of these heads sports a string of pale blue pearls with a small bunch of flowers.)
Cadence: And those should be a different color.
(Rarity hurries over before the three accompanying unicorns—picked for bridesmaid duty—chime in, one by one.)
Twinkleshine: I think they’re lovely.
Minuette: Me too.
Lyra: I love them.
(On the end of this last, cut to just behind Cadence and zoom in as she glares back toward the trio. They shut up in a hurry.)
Cadence: Make them a different color.
(She strides away, paying no mind to the vexed violet unicorn. Rarity quickly gets back into her work.)
Twilight: Gee, maybe her name should be Princess Demandy-Pants.
(She walks off. Wipe to a stretch of tower rooftops; behind them, the pink hue of the force field has darkened considerably due to the later hour and the stars are coming out. Tilt down to a squad of guards at their posts on ground, parapets, and balconies, then cut to a hall within Canterlot Castle. Balloons in assorted shapes and colors are anchored by the windows, bouquets have been placed on the columns at either side, and confetti is strewn about the floor and the heart-decorated carpet runner. Pinkie darts and bounces excitedly around a singularly unenthusiastic Cadence.)
Pinkie: Okay, let me see. We’ve been over the games…
(She zips over to an array of them at one side, rolls the dice for a board game with a huge squeaky grin, and darts back.)
Pinkie: …the dances…
(Another lightning-fast dive carries her to a top-hatted mannequin and a phonograph; it plays for a moment as she gambols and zips back with a happy gasp.)
Pinkie: …I think this reception is gonna be perfect! Don’t you?
Cadence: (smiling) Perfect! (sarcastically, walking away) If we were celebrating a six-year-old’s birthday party.
(As she leaves, the camera pans slightly to show Twilight hiding behind a column.)
Pinkie: (gasping ecstatically) Thank you!
(The purple eyes glare daggers after the snooty princess. Dissolve to a stretch of night sky, now tinted deep purple through the force field. A tiny figure flies down from the full moon, the barrier opening briefly to let it enter. It resolves into Luna, who glides down toward Celestia’s lookout.)
Luna: Rest, my sister. (She lands; Celestia heads in.) As always, I will guard the night.
(As she takes her older sister’s place behind the telescope, the camera tilts down to a street-corner café. Twilight joins the rest of the Ponyville contingent at a table; Rarity has disposed of her glasses, and Applejack has donned her usual hat.)
Twilight: (happily) Bet I can guess what you’re all thinking. (Close-up; she floats a drink out and lets the charm go.) Cadence is the absolute worst bride-to-be ever.
(The glass lands on the table, in front of five very tired mares and one baby dragon who looks as if he might welcome a chance to crawl back into his old egg. All six pairs of eyes snap wide open at her judgment; Spike pulls out his Cadence figurine.)
Spike: (high voice) Who, me?
Applejack: Spike! That goes on the cake! (He tosses it down with a sheepish laugh.)
Rarity: Twilight, whatever are you talking about? Cadence is an absolute gem.
Twilight: Rarity, she was so demanding!
Rarity: Well, of course she was. Why shouldn’t she expect the very best on her wedding day? (Twilight fumes for a moment, then shifts gears.)
Twilight: Applejack, did you know that after she told you how much she just love-love-loved your hors d’oeuvres, she threw them in the trash?
Applejack: Aw, she was probably just tryin’ to spare my feelin’s.
Twilight: (slightly fed up) No, she was just being fake and totally insincere!
(A few beats of silence, broken by Fluttershy in close-up.)
Fluttershy: She did raise her voice at one of my birds during rehearsal. (Pan to Twilight.)
Twilight: See? Rude! (She crosses her forelegs with a smirk.)
Fluttershy: (lifting a bird on her foreleg) But he was singing really off-key.
(It produces a couple of tuneless squawks that force Twilight to cover her ears and set Rainbow’s teeth on edge. Close-up of the skeptical unicorn.)
Twilight: Pinkie Pie, you had to have noticed how Cadence treated—
(Loud smack of lips; pan to the giggling Pinkie and Spike, playing with the wedding cake figurines.)
Twilight: Never mind. Rainbow Dash, you’re with me, right?
Rainbow: (picking at a hoof) Sorry, Twi. (flexing wings) Been too busy prepping for my Sonic Rainboom to pay much attention to the bride’s bad attitude.
(Back to Twilight on the end of this; she snarls through her teeth and sets her drink down as Rarity moves over to comfort her.)
Rarity: The Princess is about to get married. I’m sure any negative behavior she might be displaying is simply the result of nerves.
(Twilight stands up, slamming her front hooves onto the table hard enough to nearly tip her glass.)
Twilight: And I’m sure it’s the result of her being an awful pony who doesn’t deserve to even know Shining Armor, let alone marry him!
(The camera cuts briefly to the gang during this line, then back to her. Applejack is first to speak up after the outburst is finished.)
Applejack: Think maybe you’re bein’ just a tiny bit possessive of your brother?
All but Twilight and Applejack: Uh-huh/Mmm-hmm. (Cut to the side opposite Twilight and zoom in slowly.)
Twilight: I am not being possessive, and I am not taking it out on Cadence! You’re all just too caught up in your wedding planning to notice that maybe there shouldn’t even be a wedding!
(On the end of this, she pounds the table with enough force to upset every glass on it. Off she goes, leaving the mares and dragon to trade a round of thoroughly bewildered stares. Snap to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a Canterlot street and zoom in on one building whose ground-floor windows are lit. Two guards stand ready, one on either side of the steps leading up to the front door. Cut to a close-up of a pale blue-white crest, marked with the pink star from Twilight’s cutie mark and set at the junction of a pair of matching sashes that cross a red-jacketed chest. Zoom out to show Shining standing inside and wearing this outfit, a military-style formal jacket with gold trim; he tugs at the sashes with his teeth. As soon as he gets them just so, a knock brings him to the door, which opens to reveal a hard-faced Twilight on the step.)
Shining: Twilie! (She trots purposefully in; he pulls at the crest.) Your big brother’s looking pretty good, don’t you think?
(Close-up of the violet face, which takes on a pleading cast.)
Shining: (from o.s.) Huh. (Cut to him.) Everything okay?
Twilight: We need to talk. I think you’re making a big—
(The abrupt, annoyed clearing of Cadence’s throat stops that sentence in its tracks; pan to her at the top of a flight of stairs. Cut to frame all three on the start of the next line; she comes down.)
Shining: Oh! Uh, hi, sweetie.
Twilight: (to herself) She sure has a way of sneaking up on people.
Cadence: (to Shining) Could I speak to you for a moment, dear? (She turns away; Shining nudges Twilight.)
Shining: Better see what she wants.
(With an uneasy smile that thoroughly fails to placate his little sister, he trots off after his intended. The door closes behind them, muffling the following exchange; one line runs into the next as Twilight eases closer to listen in.)
Cadence: Look, we need to talk.
Shining: I’m here to talk.
Cadence: It’s your sister.
Shining: I—look, she’s okay.
Cadence: Just listen to me.
Shining: I’m listening, I’m listening. (Twilight nudges the door very slightly open; the voices become clear.)
Cadence: I thought I made it perfectly clear I didn’t want you to wear that.
(Her perspective; the two are in a study, and Shining tugs at the jacket’s crest.)
Shining: This was my favorite uncle’s.
Cadence: And? (Close-up of Twilight’s eye.)
Shining: (from o.s.) And I think I should wear it.
(The pupil widens within the purple iris; cut to frame Shining and Cadence in the foreground, the focus still on the door.)
Cadence: Are you disagreeing with me? (Focused close-up of him.)
Shining: I guess I am.
(Now it is his turn to have a train of thought go in the ditch, thanks to a twinge of pain that causes him to clap a hoof to his temple as when he cranked up the citywide force field.)
Cadence: Oh, dear! Are you getting another one of your headaches?
(As he crumples to the floor, she zaps his horn with a beam from hers, causing his eyes to spin out of alignment. Twilight recoils in horror as the yellow-green glow plays over her and the door and Shining stands up. His eyes have taken on a darker shade of her magic’s color.)
Cadence: Feeling better?
Shining: (nodding, dazed) Mmm-hmm.
Twilight: (whispering, to herself) She isn’t just unpleasant and rude… (straightening up) …she’s downright evil!
(She gallops away from the door an instant before her brother opens it and steps woozily out, with Cadence soon at his side. His eyes and voice have returned to normal.)
Shining: Twilight! (Out the door she goes.)
Cadence: Let her go. (She nuzzles against his shoulder.)
Shining: Huh. (Zoom in slowly.) It seemed like she had something else she wanted to tell me.
(Dissolve to a long shot of Luna, still keeping watch on the balcony. Looking off to one side, she turns away from the telescope and addresses herself over the railing.)
Luna: Who goes there?
(Pan/tilt down quickly to ground level, where Twilight is racing toward an entrance to Canterlot Castle.)
Luna: (from o.s.) Stay indoors, Twilight Sparkle.
(Not a word of this warning gets anywhere near the unicorn’s brain. Cut to just inside a door as she throws it open from outside.)
Twilight: Shining Armor’s in real trouble! You have to help—
(Once again a sentence goes in the trash bin due to a brain-twisting surprise; cut to her perspective of the room and zoom in. Her five friends are now decked out in a set of outfits that bear some resemblance to the three bridesmaid dresses Rarity was working on earlier: rainbow-striped with cloud trim for Rainbow, green with yellow trim for Applejack, light blue for Rarity, yellow for Pinkie, violet for Fluttershy. All five have flowered strings of white pearls on their heads; in addition, Rainbow’s mane has been tied in a loose bunch, Applejack’s is done in waves, Pinkie’s is piled atop her head, and Fluttershy has a few extra curls in hers. Applejack has removed her hat, and two of the five wear necklaces—blue gem for Rarity, ice cream cone for Pinkie. Fluttershy’s dress is secured with a butterfly brooch. All five are chattering happily away and showing off.)
Twilight: Dresses? (Back to her.) What are you— (Fluttershy flies over.)
Fluttershy: Can you believe it? We’re gonna be Princess Mi Amore Cadenza’s new bridesmaids!
Twilight: New bridesmaids? What happened to her old bridesmaids?
Applejack: She didn’t say, but she did tell us that she would love-love-love it if we’d fill in for them.
Rarity: Seeing as we’ve been working so hard and everything. (Back to Twilight, jaw about to hit the tiles.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) And you had your doubts about her.
Rarity: (from o.s.) Told you she was an absolute gem.
Rainbow: (from o.s.) You sure this is what I should wear? (Cut to the group; she grunts and tugs at her dress.) Doesn’t seem all that aerodynamic.
Rarity: (trotting past) Hmm—I’ll see what I can do.
(As the blue pegasus follows her out, Applejack puts her hat back on and resumes her small talk with Fluttershy and Pinkie. Not one brain cell in the bunch registers Twilight’s departure; cut to just outside the door as she plods across the balcony.)
Twilight: (sadly) Looks like I really am on my own.
(Fade to black.)
(Fade in to an ornate chandelier hanging from a ceiling within Canterlot Castle and tilt down to ground level. It is now the following day, and Celestia and Shining stand on a raised dais at one end of this hall, facing out into the empty space. He is off to her left, and Spike stands on a lower step while holding a small pillow—he drew ring-bearer duty. The area is liberally bedecked with flowers and banners, including an archway on the dais, but the lack of any formal attire indicates that this is a wedding rehearsal. As an organ begins to play, the camera cuts to Twilight’s five friends, no longer wearing their bridesmaid dresses and advancing slowly up the aisle. Manes are back to their everyday styles, and Applejack has reclaimed her hat.)
Celestia: (from o.s.) Perfect, girls. No need to rush. (Rainbow and Rarity trade a silent giggle as all stop.) Then, of course, Cadence will enter.
(As all look expectantly toward the back, pan to frame these doors and the two guards stationed here. They swing open under the guards’ magic—one per door, as indicated by the different colors of the aura—to reveal the mare of the hour. Shining smiles warmly as she makes her stately way along the aisle, the five bridesmaids having moved to Celestia’s right and taken places on the dais’ steps. The music shifts into Richard Wagner’s “Bridal Chorus,” more commonly known as “Here Comes the Bride”; cut to Celestia and Shining.)
Celestia: I’ll say a few words, and then we’ll begin with the vows.
(On the end of this, pan slightly away from her to frame the couple, who cross their horns lovingly.)
Celestia: (from o.s.) Shining Armor, you’ll get the ring from your best mare.
(He looks over his shoulder, surprise registering on both faces, and the camera pans back to frame the empty patch of floor to Celestia’s immediate left as the music stops. A second short pan frames Spike, who has sat himself on the dais and is once again playing with the figurines meant for the wedding cake.)
Spike: (deep voice) Do you? (high voice, throwing Shining figure aside) I do!
Shining: (from o.s.) Hey… (Cut to frame the entire group.) …has anypony seen Twilight?
(Now comes the sound of a doorknob turning under magic control. Cut to a long shot of the rear doors as they swing open to reveal the MIA best mare, then zoom in quickly to a close-up. She has let herself in.)
Twilight: I’m here! (advancing a few steps) I’m not gonna stand next to her, and neither should you! (Shining grimaces and turns to Cadence.)
Shining: I’m sorry, I…I don’t know why she’s acting like this.
Cadence: (testily) Maybe we should just ignore her.
Twilight: You have to listen to me! (She grits her teeth as Fluttershy moves in.)
Fluttershy: Oh, goodness! Are you okay?
Twilight: I’m fine. (Applejack comes up.)
Applejack: You sure about that?
(A quick burst of magic pulls the brown cowboy hat off and shoves it into Applejack’s face hard enough to bulldoze her away. Now Twilight strides ahead.)
Twilight: I’ve got something to say!
(All the others but Rainbow look uneasily after her; cut to her perspective of the couple.)
Twilight: (pointing at Cadence) She’s evil!
(One affronted big brother steps in front of his betrothed; cut to the group of four, who voice a round of bewildered reactions. The door guards do likewise before Twilight takes another step.)
Twilight: She’s been horrible to my friends… (Teleport onto the dais; back Cadence up.) …she’s obviously done something to her bridesmaids… (Cut to just behind her advancing horn; she continues o.s.) …and if that wasn’t enough… (Back to the pair.) … I saw her put a spell on my brother that made his eyes go all…
(She finishes the accusation by letting her eyes spin in their sockets while her tongue lolls out the side of her mouth—an imitation of Shining’s dazed response to the enchantment Cadence laid on him. Dead silence from brother and friends, coupled with a pop-eyed stare from Celestia; Cadence has barely enough time to blush and grin before Twilight gets back in her face. A savage smile plasters itself across the violet mug—“your move, creep”—and the accused reacts by falling apart into a crying mess.)
Cadence: Why are you doing this to me? (She gallops away, sobbing.)
Twilight: Because you’re evil! (Teleport to stay behind her as she bursts out.) Evil! And if I don’t stop you, you’re gonna ruin my brother’s life!
(A brief cut to Rainbow and Rarity illustrates the extent of the panicked confusion that has grabbed both equine brains. Twilight now trots smugly back into the hall, only to run flat into Shining and tumble backward to the carpet. He is clearly not a bit pleased, and her placating grin does nothing to help things in a close-up. On the start of the next line, cut back to him.)
Shining: You want to know why my eyes went all…
(He lets them spin for a moment, then winces as a fresh bolt of pain lances through his head.)
Shining: (pacing around her) Because ever since I started having to perform my protection spell, I’ve been getting terrible migraines. Cadence hasn’t been casting spells on me… (pointing to his temple) …she’s been using her magic to heal me!
(Twilight gets a bit of air into her lungs, but he resumes before she can start in.)
Shining: And she decided to replace her bridesmaids— (Pan across the five mares and Spike; he continues o.s.) —because she found out the only reason they wanted to be in the wedding was so they could meet Canterlot royalty! (Back to him and Twilight.) And if she hasn’t been on her best behavior with your friends… (Stomp.) …it’s because with me being so busy, she’s had to make all the decisions about the wedding!
Twilight: I…I was just trying to—
Shining: (pacing again) She’s completely stressed out because it’s really important to her that our big day be perfect!
(During the previous line, the camera cuts briefly to a close-up of Twilight’s hopelessly confused expression, then back to Shining, who rears up and stomps both front hooves as he finishes. Next he leans into her face; she has finally made it upright.)
Shining: Something that obviously wasn’t important to you!
(His indignant glowering is cut off by yet another twinge. She extends a tentative hoof, but he backs off once he gets his wits settled.)
Shining: Now if you’ll excuse me— (exiting) —I have to go and comfort my bride. (now o.s.) And you can forget about being my best mare!
(Cut to a head-on view of him, stopped; she stands a few paces back, with the rest of the gang back toward the dais.)
Shining: In fact, if I were you… (walking off) …I wouldn’t show up to the wedding at all.
(Overhead shot, panning back from the open doors. Twilight drops back to her haunches and aims a helpless, beseeching glance back toward the others; in close-up, their faces display varied degrees of disgust, horror, and shock.)
Applejack: Come on, y’all. Let’s go check on the Princess.
(They trot/hop/fly out past her, all twelve eyes resolutely turned away from her general direction. Last to leave is Celestia.)
Twilight: I…I was—
Celestia: (icily) You have a lot to think about.
(The tone of those seven words makes the dressing-down she delivered in “Lesson Zero” sound like a hiccup by comparison. The faithful student gapes after her departing mentor, tears welling up in the huge purple eyes, and watches the doors close with the same two-tone magic that the guards used to open them. They have left as well.)
Twilight: Maybe I was being overprotective.
(She walks back toward the dais, the view dissolving to an overhead shot as she climbs a few steps and lies down.)
Twilight: I could’ve gained a sister. (looking up, voice breaking) But instead… (The background fades to black.) …I’ve just lost a brother.
Wistful acoustic guitar/synthesizer melody, moderate 4 (D flat major)
(Same as the end of Twilight’s song in Act One, but modulating to B flat minor at end)
(Dissolve to a close-up of her face, panning slowly across as her horn glows and tears well up. In the space, simple figurines of Twilight and Shining, styled after the ones meant for the wedding cake, appear and prance happily around each other.)
Twilight: He was my Big Brother Best Friend Forever
(Shining disappears, saddening Twilight, and the real one materializes behind her in a wavering dissolve and slow pan.)
And now we’ll never do anything together
(The little avatar drops despondently to its haunches as she passes out of view.)
Song ends
(Here come the full-size Cadence’s hooves, which crush the figure to powder. The dais fades into view behind her; cut to Twilight, who gets a bit of gentle stroking on her mane. Zoom out as the unicorn aims two brimming eyes up at the bride-to-be, who smiles gently down at her.)
Twilight: I’m sorry!
(Close-up of the pink face, zooming in slowly before a brief flash of yellow-green plays across the irises and the entire hall. Her gentle demeanor flips over into a vicious scowl.)
Cadence: You will be.
(Out comes her magic, scaring the bejesus out of Twilight, who stands up on her hind legs and tries to bug out. It takes the winged unicorn only a moment to conjure up a matching ring of flames from the floor and hem her in. A psychotic grin later, and the fire has become a domed shield that begins to sink into the carpet, taking Twilight with it. Cut to the “backstage” side of the dais’ flowered archway as Cadence steps evenly through it toward the camera and Twilight descends out of sight. The view fades to black as the narrowed purple eyes advance close enough to fill the screen. Fade in to a “To be continued…” title card, then to black again.)
Continued in Part Two
A CANTERLOT WEDDING—PART TWO
Written by Meghan McCarthy
Produced by Sarah Wall
Story editing by Rob Renzetti
Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen
Directed by James Wootton
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a “Previously on My Little Pony” title card, then to black, then to a scene from the prologue of Part One: Twilight Sparkle reading her wedding invitation. The other five Ponyville mares gather around as she does so; zoom out slowly.)
Twilight: “Princess Celestia cordially invites you to the wedding of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and…” (Paper drops; zoom in as she gasps.) …my brother?!?
(Act Two, in Canterlot: as several guards brandish spears over a castle wall, Shining Armor pulls off his helmet with a smile.)
Shining: Twilie! (He gallops down the steps to her.) Ah, I’ve missed you, kid.
Twilight: How dare you not tell me in person that you were getting married!
Shining: A threat has been made against Canterlot.
(He casts his spell to augment the spherical force field that encompasses all of Canterlot.)
Shining: (voice over) Princess Celestia asked that I help provide additional protection.
(Cut to the siblings on the bridge where they have talked things out.)
Twilight: But I’m still pretty ticked you’re marrying somepony I don’t even know!
Shining: Princess Mi Amore Cadenza is Cadence.
(Cut to her flashback; the young Cadence enters the bedroom and gets the biggest hug that Filly Twilight’s stubby legs can manage.)
Twilight: (voice over) Cadence is only the most amazing pony ever!
(Present day: Cadence walks onto the bridge, exhibiting a rather more haughty bearing.)
Cadence: (rolling her eyes impatiently) I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.
Twilight: Cadence, it’s me, Twilight!
Cadence: (stepping ahead) Uh-huh.
(Twilight’s hopeful smile gives way to puzzled disappointment as the princess passes her. Cut to a scene in Act Three: she leans in close toward the door of the study where Shining and Cadence have retreated for a private talk.)
Shining: (hushed, muffled through door) And I think I should wear it.
(Twilight nudges the door open a hair; cut to inside the room, putting the couple in the foreground but focusing on Twilight at the back. Shining is now in his red military jacket and blue-white sashes with the pink star crest.)
Cadence: Are you disagreeing with me?
(A moment later; he has gone to the floor, felled by a migraine twinge, and gets hit with a burst of her yellow-green magic that sets his eyes spinning. Twilight recoils in horror as the glare plays over her as well; cut to the wedding rehearsal—her perspective, pointing at Cadence in the hall of Canterlot Castle. The couple stands on the dais next to Princess Celestia.)
Twilight: She’s evil! (Cut to Cadence; Twilight backs her up.) I saw her put a spell on my brother that made his eyes go all…
(She lets them jitter in the sockets as her tongue lolls out; Shining is not amused.)
Shining: Cadence hasn’t been casting spells on me… (pointing to his temple) …she’s been using her magic to heal me!
(Cut to the end of the bawling-out; he faces angrily away from her toward the rear doors.)
Shining: If I were you… (walking off) …I wouldn’t show up to the wedding at all.
(Close-up of her slack-jawed, aghast expression on the end of this, then cut to an overhead shot of her on the dais steps. The background fades to black as she speaks.)
Twilight: (voice breaking) I’ve just lost a brother.
(Cut to Cadence gently patting Twilight’s head, the background again where it should be.)
Twilight: I’m sorry!
(Close-up of the young Princess's face, now grinning insanely against a black screen as the yellow-green flames of her magic boil up.)
Cadence: (voice over) You will be.
(Twilight is swiftly enveloped in the burning force field that drags her through the floor and out of sight as Cadence walks off through the dais’ flowered archway to “backstage.” Fade to black as her narrowed eyes fill the screen.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: a spot of light that slowly grows in brightness against the black to illuminate the area immediately around. It is on the tip of Twilight’s horn; she is sitting on her haunches in some barren cavern. Zoom out slowly.)
Twilight: (echoing) Hello? (She gets up and begins to walk around.) Is anyone there?
(A few more steps bring her to a head-on collision with her own reflection on a mirror-like wall. From somewhere very far off, she can just catch the sound of crazed female laughter; as she turns away, the camera cuts to a longer shot of this space. Crystal formations jut from the walls and floor, multiplying her image time and time again.)
Twilight: Where am I?
(The reflections disappear and are all replaced by green-tinted copies of Cadence’s narrowed eye. On the start of the next line, these “back up” slightly to frame all of her head and Twilight stumbles away in fright. The voice reverberates slightly.)
Cadence: The caves beneath Canterlot. (looking up; camera follows her gaze) Once home to greedy unicorns who wanted to claim the gems that could be found inside.
(Images fade away; Twilight backpedals.)
Voice of Cadence: And now… (Twilight’s reflection in the wall behind her is replaced by this face.) …your prison.
Twilight: (galloping off) Help! Help!
(The giant visage fades away with a nasty laugh.)
Voice of Cadence: It’s no use. (Reappear in a crystal formation.) No one can hear you, and no one will ever think to look for you either. (Fade away, then appear overhead.) Most ponies have forgotten that these caves even exist— (Switch to another facet.) —which is why they are the ideal place to keep the ones who try to interfere with my plans. (Wild laughter.)
Twilight: Plans? What plans?
Cadence: (smiling mockingly) The plans I have for your brother, of course.
Twilight: (horn flaring) Don’t you dare do anything to my brother, you…you monster! (Close-up of Cadence’s image.)
Cadence: Only way to stop me is to catch me.
(Zoom out to ground level. The single image vanishes and is replaced by dozens of Twilights in every gleaming surface. Cadence’s laughter rings through the cavern as the furious violet unicorn looks here and there trying to pick out a target. Right on cue, the crazed face appears in a crystal.)
Cadence: Over here!
(Twilight fires off a beam, but the visage fades out with a laugh and is replaced by a plethora of Twilights. Her shot bounces wildly all over the place as if it were a laser beam hitting mirrors; it finally scorches the patch of floor directly in front of her, the nearest of misses. Said floor now shows a giant copy of Cadence’s face.)
Cadence: Nope. (Vanish; reappear in multiples behind her.) Over here!
(Now they shift from one wall area to another, laughing all the while, as Twilight cranks off blast after blast. The crystals disintegrate into shards when she hits them; her last target is a section of wall that blows apart in a thick cloud of dust. When the view clears, a second chamber can be seen beyond the opening—and in it is a badly scuffed and disheveled Cadence sitting on her haunches. She wears the gold necklace and shoes first seen in Act Two of Part One, but no tiara. Zoom in quickly to a close-up, then cut to the boiling-mad Twilight and back to one very scared princess.)
Cadence: (scrabbling backward) No! Wait!
(Too late; Twilight hurls herself through the new opening and lays a hard flying tackle on her, pinning her to the ground.)
Cadence: Please! Don’t hurt me! (smiling weakly) Twilight, it’s me! (Hard glare from Twilight.) Please, you have to believe me. I’ve been imprisoned like you. The Cadence who brought you down here was an impostor. (Cut to Twilight.)
Twilight: Likely story!
(On the start of the next line, cut to frame both of them; Cadence goes into the old bit from her foal-sitting days.)
Cadence: Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake.
(Close-up of two front hooves, one pink and one violet, tapping together, then pan to Twilight. Cadence is o.s. for the next two lines.)
Cadence: Clap your hooves—
Twilight, Cadence: —and do a little shake.
(Through the scramble of tangled mane, grime, and scrapes, Cadence manages to bring up a fragile but reassuring grin. Twilight responds with a gigantic one of her own and leaps into the gold-shod forelegs for a long-overdue hug.)
Twilight: You remember me!
Cadence: (laughing gently) Of course I do. How could I forget the filly I loved to sit for the most?
(The camera zooms in slightly on the genuine article’s face as the faker’s laughter rings through the cavern. Somewhere in the lightless distance, a spark of light flashes out and throws a reflection into the winged unicorn’s pupils, seen in extreme close-up. Zoom out quickly to frame both, having broken their embrace.)
Twilight: We have to get out of here. (She darts across and perches on an outcropping.) We have to stop her!
(Cadence gallops away and vanishes into the inky distance, with Twilight hot on her tail. Pan/tilt up slowly to the echoes of that fiendish mirth, then dissolve to a long shot of Canterlot. Where it was evening time during the preparation/rehearsal sequence of Part One, it is now the following day.)
Subdued orchestral melody, piano/strings/low woodwinds; slow 4 (D flat major)
(A sequence of slow zooms and dissolves takes the camera to a closed door within Canterlot Castle, then to the suite beyond it. Here, several pony mannequins are dressed in assorted formal wear and the fake Cadence—now wearing a gold-trimmed white wedding dress—approaches a vanity mirror. A red rose is magically pulled from a vase and tucked in behind one ear; she wears a wreath of flowers and a veil on her head. A light blue, heart-shaped jewel brooch, the same as the one in her cutie mark, secures the blue/yellow sash across her chest.)
Fake Cadence: This day is going to be perfect
(twirling away) The kind of day of which I dreamed since I was small
Sinister, forceful tone; timpani sneaks in (to D flat minor)
(making mannequins bow) Everypony will gather ’round, say I look lovely in my gown
What they don’t know is that I have fooled them all
(As she finishes the last line, the camera zooms in on her eyes, which go green and take on snakelike pupils. The rest of the screen fades to black, they disappear a moment later, and the view fades in to a close-up of a large blue jewel that slowly backs up from the camera against a black field. The real Cadence’s galloping image appears on both this one and the smaller gems that circle around it.)
Original tone/instrumentation, with harp and higher winds (D flat major)
Cadence: This day was going to be perfect
(All vanish; the cavern fades into view, and she drops to her haunches next to Twilight.)
The kind of day of which I dreamed since I was small
(She is reflected in many crystal facets.)
But instead of having cake with all my friends to celebrate
My wedding bells, they may not ring for me at all
(Wipe to Fake Cadence’s hooves, advancing determinedly across the floor of her suite, and tilt up to her vicious grin.)
Sinister tone, with building urgency; strings/timpani/winds (D flat minor)
Fake Cadence: (knocking over an apple basket, caressing a tuxedo-clad mannequin)
I could care less about the dress, I won’t partake in any cake
Vows? Well, I’ll be lying when I say
Horns in
That through any kind of weather, I’ll want us to be together
(She knocks its top hat into the air and disintegrates it with a spell.)
The truth is, I don’t care for him at all
[Error: “Couldn’t care less” is the proper way to indicate a total lack of concern about something.]
(One hoof comes down in the resulting pile of ashes; tilt up past her to the broad shadow she has cast on the ceiling, the camera spinning in place.)
Fake Cadence: No, I do not love the groom, in my heart there is no room
(Tilt down to the mirror; she glares triumphantly at herself.)
But I still want him to be all mine
(She has turned away to present herself in profile. Zoom in one eye, the background fading to black behind it; the cavern fades in as the eye disappears. Now Twilight and Cadence bolt from place to place, looking for any hint of a way out of this crazy house.)
Same building urgency, but without the sinister tone; strings/high brass/percussion
Cadence: We must escape before it’s too late, find a way to save the day
Hope? I’ll be lying if I say
I don’t fear that I may lose him to one who wants to use him
(They find an old mine cart on a set of tracks leading into the pitch-black distance. The prospect of using it throws a scare into Twilight.)
Not care for, love, and cherish him each day
Lower horns in (D flat major)
(Cadence tries to push the cart ahead; no dice.)
Cadence: For I oh so love the groom, all my thoughts he does consume
(The violet unicorn smiles warmly at this and kick-starts her horn, shifting a few rocks that block the wheels and floating Cadence into the cart.)
Oh, Shining Armor, I’ll be there very soon
(A heave from Twilight dislodges the last rock and starts the dilapidated vehicle rolling along a spiral track that descends into the black depths. She has no time to climb in and finds herself clinging for dear life to the rear end; when she finally wrestles herself in, the cart reaches the end of its track. It hits the barricade placed here and stops dead, launching both mares in a high arc over the scree of mining debris that has accumulated in this area over the years.)
(Cut to an extreme close-up of Twilight’s face, both eyes squeezed tight shut in full expectation of meeting her maker. When she opens them and finds herself still alive, the camera zooms out to reveal that she has wrapped both forelegs around Cadence’s midsection—just behind the wings that are now keeping both of them aloft.)
(Cut to a set of closed double doors, which swing open to give a view of the Canterlot Castle hall in which the wedding rehearsal occurred. The floor is packed solid with guests on both sides of the aisle, and all of Twilight’s friends save Fluttershy stand to one side of it near the dais at the front, facing four groomsman stallions across the way. The mares are wearing the bridesmaid dresses Rarity designed for them in PartOne, and their manes are appropriately styled. Applejack has shed her hat, and their manes are set with the white pearl strings that went with the outfits. Celestia and Shining stand on the dais, with Spike off to one side in a top hat and tuxedo jacket, and unicorn attendants in full livery blow a brass fanfare. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, sporting their own little dresses, hop ahead to scatter flower petals from the baskets in their mouths before Fake Cadence walks down the aisle.)
Viciously triumphant feel; brass/strings/percussion (D flat major)
Fake Cadence: Finally the moment has arrived
For me to be one lucky bride
Modulate to B minor
(Advancing toward the camera, she turns to one side; behind her head, wipe to the dais, where she now stands alongside Shining to face Cadence. This shot is close enough to pick out the blue sash Shining now wears in place of the blue-white ones he wanted to use. The screen splits vertically, with this view retreating to the left half and Twilight and Cadence winging through the cavern. They land on a ledge.)
Cadence: Oh, the wedding we won’t make, he’ll end up marrying a fake
(Left side: zoom in to an extreme close-up of Fake Cadence’s narrowed eyes, then cut to Shining as he turns toward her, eyes showing her magical influence. Right side: extreme close-up of Cadence’s teary eyes, zooming out to a long shot of her and Twilight; the background fades to black, leaving them in a spot of light.)
Cadence: Shining Armor will be
(Everything except Fake Cadence fades away as she walks across in the fore.)
Fake Cadence: Mine, all mine!
(One of the nastiest giggles ever heard in the course of the series to date rings out as the view fades to black.)
Song ends
(Fade in to the hall again, seen from the back. The four bridesmaids now stand to Celestia’s right, two on the dais steps and two on the floor, facing the four similarly positioned groomsman stallions across the red carpet. Lyra Heartstrings and Minuette—two of the original three bridesmaids from Part One—can be seen several rows back in the audience. Shining and Fake Cadence stand facing each other in front of Celestia on their respective sides.)
Celestia: Mares and gentle-colts, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Shining Armor.
(The camera tilts down through a cutaway view of the floor and the caverns below it as she speaks, causing her voice to become increasingly faint and muffled. Stop on Twilight and Cadence, who have wound up on a not-too-big ledge and are casting about for any way to continue their escape.)
Cadence: Oh, we’re never going to save him!
Twilight: (resolutely) We will. We just have to find…
(A glance up past the edge brings a smile to her face; cut to a long shot of a shaft of light streaming in through a tiny aperture far above to hit a higher ledge. Zoom in slightly.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) There!
(Up at this level, a pop of her magic energy marks their teleporting arrival. Delight turns to consternation as the camera zooms out slightly to frame the entire first-pick bridesmaid trio—Lyra, Minuette, Twinkleshine—wearing the dresses Rarity designed for them. The presence of Lyra and Minuette is a surprise, considering that they were just seen in the hall.)
Bridesmaids: (hypnotized, advancing slowly) You’re not going anywhere.
(A close-up on the end of this picks out the malicious grins and the green-glowing eyes that tell of Fake Cadence’s influence on them. The screen snaps to black except for the eyes, which fade away a moment later.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of Canterlot Castle, zooming in slowly, then dissolve to the hall and cut to a close-up of Celestia, Shining, and Fake Cadence.)
Celestia: Princess Cadence and Shining Armor, it is my great pleasure to pronounce you—
Twilight: (from o.s.) STOOOOOOP!!
(Quick pan to her, standing in the doorway at the back. Shocked murmurs from the guests, various disgusted reactions from Applejack, Rainbow, and Rarity, and even Spike seems a bit put out at the interruption.)
Fake Cadence: (groaning angrily) Why does she have to be so possessive of her brother? (catching herself, sobbing) Why does she have to ruin my special day?
Cadence: (from o.s.) Because it’s not your special day… (Quick pan to her, now also at the doors.) …it’s mine! (Louder murmurs from the guests.)
Fake Cadence: What?! But how did you escape my bridesmaids?
(The two fugitive trade a wicked smirk; pan quickly to the three bewitched bridesmaid unicorns in the cavern. As they close in, Twilight and Cadence back up uneasily; Cadence looks about and levitates a bridal bouquet. Shaking it in midair to get their attention, she shifts it back and forth and then slings it for distance over their heads.)
Bridesmaids: (diving after it) I want it!
(Twilight throws Cadence a fierce smile to acknowledge this bit of chicanery, and the latter manages a small one as if to say, “I can’t believe that actually worked!” They are off in an instant; pan quickly back to a long shot of the hall, seen from one side. Fake Cadence voices a derisive chuckle.)
Fake Cadence: Clever. But you’re still too late.
Applejack: I-I don’t understand. How can there be two of ’em?
Cadence: She’s a changeling. She takes the form of somepony you love and gains power by feeding off your love for them!
(Cut to an extreme close-up of the fraud’s face on the end of this; her eyes and horn burn yellow-green and a ring of matching flames lances up from the floor to encircle her. These blaze up to the ceiling, the screen flaring white for an instant and all the other lights in the hall going out. As all gasp and recoil from the infernal glare, the shaded wings flex in a sudden convulsion and transform into a tattered, insect-like pair. Next, the pink legs turn into hole-pocked, gray-black limbs, the transformation working down toward the hooves. Finally, the horn’s exterior strips away to expose a gnarled, half-decayed black one underneath; zoom out from this to frame the rest of the head and neck. Long, lank, ragged blue-green mane; a cluster of short antennae on the back of the head shaped to resemble a small crown; coat that temporarily appears dead black in this light; two malevolent, reptilian green eyes; and a set of deadly sharp fangs revealed when she laughs crazily. This is Chrysalis, the changeling queen, whose voice positively drips with smooth malice and barely contained madness.)
(Cut to Cadence, now standing terrified in the creature’s shadow, and zoom out slowly.)
Chrysalis: (from o.s.) Right you are, Princess.
(Cut to her, a buzzing undertone taking hold in her voice. She can now be seen as a gaunt, long-legged, winged unicorn mare, a grotesque parody of the royal family; the ends of her mane and tail are as pockmarked as her legs and horn. Her back is marked with a saddle-shaped patch of green hide or exoskeleton, and a gray-greenish band of skin encircles her belly as if it were a strap holding this in place. The dark hue of her coat is interrupted by a couple of slightly lighter patches just below her jawline.)
Chrysalis: And as queen of the changelings, it is up to me to find food for my subjects. (Cut to the glowering Cadence on the end of this, then back; she descends the steps.) Equestria has more love than anyplace I’ve ever encountered. (To some stunned guests, then back as she continues.) My fellow changelings will be able to devour so much of it that we will gain more power than we have ever dreamed of!
(By now, she has come face to face with Cadence.)
Cadence: They’ll never get the chance! Shining Armor’s protection spell will keep them from ever even reaching us!
Chrysalis: (chuckling) Oh, I doubt that. (over her shoulder) Isn’t that right, dear? (Horn glows; Shining’s eyes flare with fresh green.)
Shining: (hypnotized, nodding) Mmm-hmm.
(Cut to Cadence, who starts into a charge, and zoom out to ground level as a rotting hoof is planted to stop her.)
Chrysalis: (from o.s.) Ah-ah-ah. (Cut to her, horn warming up.) Don’t want to go back to the caves now, do you? (Cadence backs up a step.) Ever since I took your place, I’ve been feeding off Shining Armor’s love for you.
(Cut to the escaped bride-to-be and back during the following, Twilight moving up to join her; Chrysalis bounds up the steps and around Shining as she finishes. On the start of the next line, the view shifts briefly to Shining’s thousand-yard stare.)
Chrysalis: Every moment he grows weaker, and so does his spell. Even now, my minions are chipping away at it.
(Her glance upward is followed by a quick tilt up to the outer surface of his force field—which is now under assault by several snickering little changelings who are slamming their bodies against it. Their eyes are pure blue, and they have short dark manes and tails. Many others hover just above the barrier, and the camera zooms out to frame still more on standby. Back inside the hall, Chrysalis' exultant laughter rings out as her shadow falls over a knot of horrified guests, and she caresses the motionless groom’s chin, turning his face toward hers.)
Chrysalis: He may not be my husband, but he is under my total control now… (Twilight and Cadence gasp; she steps forward.) …and, I’m sorry to say, unable to perform his duties as captain of the Royal Guard!
(The camera cuts toward her in two steps, ending with an extreme close-up of her rage-twisted face.)
Cadence: Not my Shining Armor! (Chrysalis flits past him.)
Chrysalis: Soon my changeling army will break through! First we take Canterlot, and then… (hovering) …all of Equestria!
(Another extreme close-up.)
Celestia: (from o.s., levelly) No.
(The camera pans slightly to one side and re-focuses on the background, where the sovereign still stands on the dais. She works up a head of steam as she continues.)
Celestia: You won’t. (Chrysalis descends to her level.) You may have made it impossible for Shining Armor to perform his spell, but now that you have so foolishly revealed your true self… (They charge toward each other and lock horns briefly.) …I can protect my subjects… (rising into the air) …from you!
(Each conjures a beam from her horn and blasts it toward the other—sunny yellow for Celestia, yellow-green for Chrysalis. They cancel out at the point where they meet; the changeling ruler gasps for breath under the strain at first, but soon adds a few more horsepower to her offensive. Celestia’s eyes widen in fear as the green energy slowly bulldozes its way across and finally touches her horn, casting its glow over her figure before an explosion fills the screen.)
(When the view clears, the jeweled gold tiara is seen tracing out a graceless arc as it tumbles away in slow motion. Normal speed resumes to mark its clinking touchdown on the tiles and the slide of its unconscious wearer, the end of her horn blackened and smoking. Shocked gasps and other reactions from the crowd.)
Twilight: Princess Celestia! (She, Applejack, Rainbow, and Rarity race over.)
Chrysalis: (to the o.s. Cadence) Ah. Shining Armor’s love for you is even stronger than I thought. (Zoom out slowly; she rises above the dais.) Consuming it has made me even more powerful than Celestia!
(Celestia has begun to come around; all six mares have gathered near her. Fluttershy, seen for the first time on camera since the start of the ceremony, is in her bridesmaid dress and mane style along with the other four.)
Celestia: (weakly, to Twilight) The Elements of Harmony. You must get to them, and use their power to defeat the queen!
(After a determined six-way nod, four bridesmaid dresses are flung toward the ceiling and their wearers, along with Twilight, gallop out of the hall. Applejack has procured and donned her usual hat, and their manes have returned to their everyday appearances. The only one to hang back is Rarity, who worriedly catches the discarded garments in hooves and teeth while still clad in her own.)
Other five: (now o.s., impatiently) Rarity!
(The internal battle between saving her work and helping her friends is short and fierce. It ends when she drops the dresses and gallops after them, hurling her own finery back as she goes. Chrysalis just directs a maliciously exultant laugh after the group while hovering near the chandelier; cut to the courtyard outside as they race ahead.)
Chrysalis: (from inside) You can run, but you can’t hide!
(Twilight cuts her eyes upward and lets them widen with instant fear, and the camera tilts up as well to show the swarm of changelings waiting just beyond the force field. Up above its surface, the minions cackle wildly and watch the gang of six hurry across the Canterlot Castle grounds. As they resume their battering assault on the field, webs of cracks begin to appear at one impact point after another. One last, coordinated mass strike is all it takes to completely shatter the barricade from top to bottom.)
(At ground level, Twilight and company brace themselves against the accompanying ground tremors; once these die down, the changelings go into a nose dive. Their small horns warm up and let go with a volley of yellow-green beams.)
[Animation goof: Applejack is seen both with and without her hat through this sequence.]
Twilight: Go! Go!
(Her rush is cut off when one enemy dive-bombs itself into the street, barely missing her and embedding itself briefly into the resulting crater. All put their legs into overdrive to keep from being hit as well, but stop short when one slams down in front to miss them by inches. It hisses tauntingly up at them, but Twilight simply rears up and brings both front hooves down on the gray-black head for an instant knockout.)
(They continue their rush across the city. Cut to the top of a flight of steps as they mount it and skid to a stop, then zoom out quickly. Another horde of changelings is up here waiting for them, and in no time the heroic sextet is well and truly boxed in.)
Rainbow: (banging front hooves together) Looks like we’re gonna have to do this the hard way!
(Lunging forward, she suddenly finds herself facing down her exact duplicate. Every move and flinch and scowl she makes is copied perfectly—that is, until the fake Rainbow lands a double-hoof punch that sends the real one skidding across the bricks on her back.)
Rainbow: How did you—
(In response, several other front-line fighters transform themselves into wickedly smiling doppelgangers of the sky-blue pegasus. Twilight stares wide-eyed as others change to mimic all six mares.)
Twilight: They’re changelings, remember?
(And they rub it in by presenting a wall of angry Twilights to Rainbow.)
Fake Twilights: They’re changelings, remember?
Twilight: Don’t let them distract you! We have to get to the Elements of Harmony! They’re our only hope!
(All six leap in to face off against an ersatz squad, leading to a massive battle royal. As assailants take hits on both sides, Fluttershy casts her eyes about in a total panic and the camera zooms out to frame three fakers closing in on her. When they are within striking distance, she suddenly copies their fierce stare and body language, even turning away from them and throwing a few punches at the air. The trio stalks past, apparently fooled by the act, and she is left alone to gallop away as fast as four yellow legs can move her.)
(The retreat only lasts for a few dozen yards, though; she skids to a stop before a quartet of Rainbows. As the growling pegasi rear up, intending to mash her into the stonework, one knocks the others away without warning and smiles—the real deal. She pulls Fluttershy up off the ground so that both end up hovering, then gives her the best reassuring smile she can.)
(Quick pan to a Twilight and Applejack as they back up into each other amid the brawl and stand up on their hind legs, ready to throw down. In close-up, the latter winces as a lick of magic washes up just behind her, and a short pan reveals that the Twilight has reverted to changeling form. Both turn to face each other; the adversary screams at Applejack, whose reaction marks her as the genuine.)
Applejack: Okay. This is just gettin’ weird!
(She is swiftly tackled to the ground and several copies sneer down at her. Quick pan to an open patch of ground, where one Twilight pins another down. A burst of magic from the standing, real unicorn strips away the disguise from the fallen one and leaves it badly dazed. Across the way, several inauthentic Applejacks are dog-piling on the real one. One beam after another blasts the impostors away and leaves the last Applejack suspended upside down.)
Applejack: Real me! Real me!
(Twilight sets her upright quickly enough to let her hat drop back onto her head. Quick pan to Pinkie, who smiles broadly at the changeling standing eye to eye with her. It transforms to Rarity, then Rainbow, then Fluttershy.)
Pinkie: (giggling, hopping in place) Do me! Do me!
(The counterfeit Fluttershy rolls her eyes wearily and fulfills the request, ending up on her hind legs and beaming from ear to ear.)
Pinkie: (dismissively) Meh. I’ve seen better.
(A fast reach around herself, and she has grabbed Twilight and pulled her ahead. One pink foreleg curves under the unicorn’s neck to brace her while the other one starts turning the streaked dark blue tail like a crank. The effort produces a Gatling-gun salvo of beams that plows their attackers away in perhaps ten milliseconds flat. Now the true fighters go on the offensive, punching, bucking, tripping, and shooting every changeling within reach—the last of these being accomplished with Twilight’s horn and Pinkie’s party cannon. The tempo of their assault steadily increases until the screen flashes white and clears to show silhouettes of the six mares surrounded by those of tumbling, insensate changelings. Fade to white.)
(Fade in to a screenful of dust, which gradually dissipates to frame the ponies standing among their fallen opponents. They have only a moment’s respite, though, as the buzzing of uncounted wings above marks the arrival of reinforcements. All twenty-four hooves hit overdrive to stay ahead of the approaching swarm and carry their owners toward a tower’s closed double doors. The ornamentation on either side of them marks this as the entrance to Canterlot Tower, the place of storage for the Elements’ magical jewelry seen in “The Return of Harmony, Part 1.” Twilight is first to grab the handles; cut to just inside the darkened interior as the doors swing open and they look in. Relieved smiles turn to shocked grimaces as the camera cuts to point up toward the ceiling—and the massed changelings that are already waiting here. A slow tilt down to floor level frames far too many more of them ready for a ground rush.)
(Outside again; yet another contingent lands to cut off the group’s retreat. Twilight and company can only stare in mute fear as they advance, the screen filling with their dark forms and fading to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of Celestia’s face. She has passed out again and is wearing her tiara; the eye not hidden by her mane flutters open and snaps to a horrified wideness. She glances to one side, then the other, and the camera zooms out and rotates 180 degrees to frame her upside down with a fully healed horn. Her entire form takes on a diseased green tint, which proves to be due to a translucent cocoon in which she has been encased. It is attached to the ceiling of the hall, leaving her suspended upside down. The changelings hovering around her dart away while Chrysalis paces the floor in front of the dais. Only Shining, Cadence, and Spike are left standing atop it; Cadence’s hooves are mired to the carpet by gobbets of green sludge.)
Cadence: You won’t get away with this! Twilight and her friends will—
(She checks her next words at the sound of the doors opening; here come said unicorn and friends, being escorted in by a platoon of grunts. Two of them carry Rainbow in midair by her forelegs, while the other five are walking.)
Chrysalis: You were saying? (to Twilight) You do realize the reception’s been canceled, don’t you? (to the overhead crew) Go! Feed!
(Tilt up to them on the end of this, putting her o.s.; they clear out as fast as those chewed-up wings will allow, and she magically closes the doors. The camera then cuts to the glowering, foiled rescuers as her o.s. laughter floats over them, then zooms out to frame her on the start of the next line.)
Chrysalis: It’s funny, really. (lifting Twilight’s chin) Twilight here was suspicious of my behavior all along. (The pocked hoof is shoved away; she flies to the dais.) Too bad the rest of you were too caught up in your wedding planning to realize those suspicions were correct!
(Cut to Twilight on the end of this; another vicious laugh, and a contrite Applejack walks up to the violet unicorn.)
Applejack: Sorry, Twi. We shoulda listened to you.
Twilight: It’s not your fault. She fooled everypony.
Chrysalis: (pacing) Mmm—I did, didn’t I?
Same subdued orchestral melody as Act One, with added percussion accents
Slow 4 (D flat major)
(She steps over to a window and looks out; her minions are running amok in the streets.)
Chrysalis: This day has been just perfect
The kind of day of which I’ve dreamed since I was small
Sinister, forceful tone; horns in (to D flat minor)
(Street level. Doctor Whooves, Carrot Top, and a filly find themselves cornered in an alley, while two guards are bound to each other and the ground with the same slime that pins Cadence.)
Chrysalis: Everypony I’ll soon control, every stallion, mare, and foal
(Back to her, seen from the balcony; zoom out to frame the entire infested city.)
Who says a girl can’t really have it all?
Song ends
(A green explosion boils up from somewhere near her location. In close-up, she chuckles richly at the unfolding devastation; a short pan and focus shift frames Twilight, Applejack, and Rainbow visible at the edge of the window frame behind her. She does not notice as the violet unicorn hunkers down and eases across the floor, stopping next to Cadence on the dais.)
Twilight: (hushed) Quick! Go to him while you still have the chance!
(A quick spell strips away the gunk, allowing the young princess to hurry over to her enthralled groom. After a long moment of indecision, she traces a hoof along his cheek and embraces him, tears leaking from her tightly closed eyes. Zoom in on her horn as it begins to spark and glow; a bright pink heart pops out from the tip and, as Twilight and company watch incredulously, makes its way over to stop before Shining’s fixed green-tinted irises. The spell she used during her foal-sitting days flares out, turning the background pink for an instant and fading away to leave a close-up of one very disoriented white unicorn. His eyes, though out of kilter, have returned to their normal blue; he shakes his head in an attempt to clear it.)
Shining: (still dazed) Wh…where…huh? Is…is the wedding over?
(Cadence smiles, as do the six ponies—until Chrysalis' severely perforated legs slam down in front of them on the red carpet. Tilt up to her face; she is facing away from them, toward the camera.)
Chrysalis: It’s all over!
Twilight: Your spell! (Cut to Shining and Cadence as she continues.) Perform your spell!
(This last is directed at her brother, whose brain does not find first gear until the arch-villain rears up with her latest round of mad laughter.)
Chrysalis: What good would that do? My changelings already roam free.
(Out in the street, the hordes are hard at work tearing the place to bits and harassing the fleeing Whooves. Back to Shining and Cadence.)
Shining: No!
(Lowering his head slightly, he concentrates all his will on the single task of getting his horn to turn over. All he gets for his trouble is a feeble glow at the tip, though, and he lets his head drop in defeat.)
Shining: My power is useless now. I don’t have the strength to repel them.
Cadence: My love will give you strength.
(She nuzzles him, prompting a venomous chuckle from the o.s. queen; cut to her, stepping to a window.)
Chrysalis: What a lovely but absolutely ridiculous sentiment.
(That does it. The severely thwarted newlyweds trade a look—grim resolve in his eyes, desperate pleading in hers—and he tries his horn again. This time, it emits a stronger glow and she brings hers close enough for an electric discharge to arc between the tips. They touch, creating a spark that glows purple and white as it steadily grows in size, and a circle of this same energy forms around the pair. Air currents circulate around them, causing Cadence’s mane to billow and sparkle as do those of Celestia and Princess Luna, and she and Shining trade a smile before concentrating again. The scuffs and dishevelment from her time in the underground caverns are gone now.)
[Animation goof: Cadence’s gold tiara suddenly appears on her head when they touch horns.]
(Now the spell slowly lifts them clear of the floor amid a stronger glowing aura. Twilight and company grin and avert their eyes from the brilliance—with the exception of Pinkie, who keeps staring at it straight on. Chrysalis' jaw drops open in total disbelief, and the hall begins to shake from the sheer amount of magical energy coursing through it. Shining and Cadence open their eyes fully, revealing them to be glowing pure white, and the power gathers into them for a moment before exploding outward as a white, heart-shaped shock wave. For a moment before the entire screen fades to white, they can be seen as a pair of white silhouettes whose bodies are positioned to form the two halves of a heart, joined by their crossed horns and entwined hind legs.)
(Snap to Twilight and Fluttershy, eyes still closed and faces still fixed in silent celebration, then cut to a long shot of Chrysalis and zoom in quickly as the wave rockets toward her. She manages only a strangled yelp of surprise before getting her tongue to behave itself.)
Chrysalis: NOOOOOOOOOO!!
(As she holds out this single protracted word, the camera cuts to outside the castle and she is flung outward in a crash of breaking glass. The blast clears away the changelings around the two captured guards, melts the goo holding them, and throws out the ones menacing a family in a street. Finally, in a long shot of Canterlot, one cataclysmic burst hurls both the screaming Chrysalis and every last one of her minions toward the distant horizon in all directions. The last trace of her is a tiny pinprick of light that flares briefly in the sky before she is lost to sight.)
(In the hall, Shining and Cadence float gently back down to the dais. Her mane has resumed its typical, non-billowing appearance; they share a joyous embrace as Twilight gallops across the floor. She reaches Celestia, who has fallen free of her ceiling cocoon and is sprawled on the tiles.)
Celestia: (as Twilight helps her stand) Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. You have a real wedding to put together.
(The faithful student smiles at this, catching the mingled forgiveness and apology in her mentor’s words. Dissolve to Applejack and Cadence in the castle kitchen; the workhorse has switched her hat for a white chef’s toque. In front of them are several of the bite-size apple fritters she cooked up in Part One; Cadence floats one of these up and eats it, enjoying the taste and licking her chops. Zoom out slightly to frame Twilight looking on with a grin. The princess eats another one as an item is marked off on the checklist floating in front of the unicorn.)
(Cut to the suite in which Rarity did her work during Part One. Her rumpled mane, the measuring tape around her shoulders, and the reading glasses perched on her nose indicate the tail end of a serious design marathon. She pulls a full-length mirror up to catch Cadence’s reflection, while Twilight watches with her checklist in easy reach. The winged unicorn is now clad in a gold-trimmed white dress similar to that worn by her evil counterpart, with a couple of changes. One, the heart-shaped jewel brooch at the throat has been replaced by a large yellow rose. Two, the sash is now solid yellow. Three, her forelock has been divided so that it curls back on either side of her horn, which is framed by two more roses. Cadence’s smile is all the approval the two unicorns need, and Twilight cheerfully ticks another box.)
(Cut to a close-up of two singing birds perched on a pink foreleg and zoom out. Now out of her dress, Cadence is holding them aloft and has several others on her mane and tail, being rehearsed by Fluttershy in another room of Canterlot Castle. The yellow pegasus has a conductor’s baton in her teeth to keep the beat. Check. Now Pinkie and Cadence dance across a confetti-and-streamer-strewn reception area whose tables are stacked high with gifts; Twilight walks up after them to check off this task. With every box on the parchment filled in, she magically rolls it up and tucks both it and the quill away, allowing herself a well-deserved grin.)
(Dissolve to an overhead shot of the hall and a slow pan toward the dais. Everything has been reset for the main event—guests, four bridesmaids including a hatless Applejack, groomsman stallions, Celestia, Shining—with the addition of Twilight now standing proudly by her brother as his best mare. Rarity has put away her glasses and set her mane in order. A close-up of the siblings points up both the blue-white double sashes with the family crest that Shining now wears, and Twilight’s magenta dress secured by a star brooch. Her mane has been curled, and she wears a flowered string of white pearls on her head. Noticing that the crest is askew, she gives him a brief scowl and straightens it out with her magic. Their parents—Mr. Sparkle in a tailcoat, shirt, and ascot; Mrs. Sparkle sporting a string of light yellow pearls—watch happily from the audience, and Mrs. Sparkle levitates a handkerchief to dab at her eyes.)
(A drum roll is the cue for Fluttershy, the one bridesmaid not standing in the formation, to give her bird choir the downbeat; she is kitted out in her dress. Wagner’s “Bridal Chorus” rings through the hall as all eyes turn toward the rear doors, which are magically opened by the guards on duty so the Crusaders can enter and scatter flower petals as they did in the first-take wedding. Behind them comes Cadence; the train of her dress stretches at least three times her own body length and requires three pairs of birds to hoist it clear of the floor. In the next shot of the dais, Spike can be seen standing just behind Twilight and off to one side, again sporting his top hat and tuxedo jacket and holding a pair of gold rings on a pillow.)
Twilight: (to Shining) Seriously, though. I get why the queen of the changelings wanted to be with you, but how did you get someone as amazing as Cadence to marry you?
Shining: I told her she wouldn’t just be gaining a husband, she’d be getting a pretty great sister too.
(She gives him a tickled-pink smile, then turns her eyes front again. As Cadence nears the dais, Rarity’s ocular waterworks spring a leak and she has to float up a hanky of her own. Applejack, meanwhile, whips out her faithful brown hat and plunks it on her head. The music finishes as Cadence mounts the steps to gaze lovingly at Shining, and both turn to face Celestia. On the end of this sequence, a large magenta bow can be seen adorning the back of her dress.)
Celestia: Mares and gentle-colts, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of the real Princess Mi Amore Cadenza—
Cadence: (with a hint of a chuckle) “Princess Cadence” is fine.
Celestia: Hmm. (smiling) —the union of Princess Cadence and Shining Armor. The strength of their commitment is clear. (as they turn to each other) The power of their love, undeniable. (to Spike) May we have the rings, please?
(He takes a step forward and holds up the pillow, the camera zooming in to a close-up of the rings. One is set with a line of four diamonds, the other with a single stone. These are floated away and slid onto Cadence’s and Shining’s horns in close-up, respectively.)
Celestia: (from o.s.) I now pronounce you mare and colt.
(As cheers erupt in the hall, the camera cuts to just outside an open doorway flanked by unicorn guards. Shining and Cadence step out of the hall between them and onto the balcony; the courtyard below them is jam-packed with celebrating ponies under a rain of confetti and streamers. While the newlyweds wave to the crowd, the camera pans slightly to frame Celestia and the entire Ponyville contingent looking on from the hall.)
[Animation goof: Shining’s double blue-white sashes revert to the single blue one and back during the previous sequence.]
Celestia: (to Twilight, laying a hoof on her shoulder) This is your victory as much as theirs. You persisted in the face of doubt.
(Close-up of Twilight, whose expression shifts from uncertain to grateful as she continues.)
Celestia: (from o.s.) And your actions led to your being able to bring the real Princess Cadence back to us. (Cut to frame all eight.) Learning to trust your instincts is a valuable lesson to learn.
(Out on the balcony, Shining and Cadence share a brief kiss, then a longer one as the camera zooms out to frame the gang. They are so caught up in the moment that Rainbow almost does not notice it when Celestia drapes a wing across her shoulders.)
Celestia: (whispering) Rainbow Dash, that’s your cue!
(The blue daredevil cracks off a slightly crazed grin and zips away, shedding her bridesmaid dress and accessories and taking off into the clear sky above Canterlot. She effortlessly produces a Sonic Rainboom whose multi-hued blast wave ripples over the city, then traces a rainbow from one side to the other as the crowds cheer mightily. Close-up of her.)
Rainbow: Best wedding ever!
(She zooms o.s., letting the prismatic light fill the screen.)
Warm and gentle string/piano melody, slow 4 (G flat major)
(Dissolve to a torchlit courtyard under the violet sky of early evening. Shining and Cadence stand face to face in the circular patio/dance floor at its center, embrace, and share their first dance as a married couple. Luna comes in for a landing next to Celestia and the ponies; Rainbow is back in her bridesmaid dress, and Applejack has doffed her hat.)
Luna: Hello, everypony. Did I miss anything?
(A pan across the group shows that every pair of eyes save one is turned her way, several of their owners trying very hard not to laugh at this innocently funny question. The only one still focused on the dance is Pinkie, who gets a nod from Twilight and responds with a huge squeaky grin before zipping away. Pan quickly to a DJ’s double turntable flanked by a set of towering speakers; she stands up behind this rig, holding a set of headphones to one ear, and dips a hoof behind the counter. What—or, to be more exact, who—she comes up with is DJ P0N-3, the off-white, electric-blue-maned unicorn mare who provided the music for Rarity’s first fashion show in “Suited for Success.” The sudden new arrival slaps the record in her teeth onto the unoccupied turntable and drops the needle in the groove.)
Pinkie: Let’s get this party started!
Drums in; thumping dance beat with electric guitar/bass/synth, up-tempo 4
(She grabs a microphone in her teeth and slings it across the courtyard; Twilight catches it with her telekinesis so that it floats in front of her mouth.)
Twilight: Love is in bloom
(Balloons/confetti/streamers rain down over the crowd.)
A beautiful bride, a handsome groom
(The newlyweds touch horns tenderly and are swiftly joined on the dance floor by Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow, and Rarity. P0N-3 lifts her violet sunglasses, giving a brief flash of red-violet irises behind them.)
Two hearts becoming one
A bond that cannot be undone
Because love is in bloom
A beautiful bride, a handsome groom
(As she continues singing, the camera cuts to the following three scenes, each of which is captured on a snapshot with a flash. Pinkie gorges herself on cake while lying on the grass…Applejack saws enthusiastically at a fiddle as her relative Apple Fritter and a stallion tap their hooves…Sweetie Belle and Spike get funky…and now the view flashes directly from one snapshot to the next. Rainbow dances with Soarin’, who wears a short-sleeved blue Wonderbolt dress shirt and tie in place of his usual jumpsuit; his cutie mark is exposed as a winged lightning bolt identical to the one on that suit. Rarity sidles coyly up to Fancypants.)
Twilight: I said, love is in bloom
We’re starting a life and making room
For us
(One more flash shifts the action to a parked carriage. The hour is considerably later, and Shining and Cadence walk to the vehicle and the waiting Twilight. The music continues as the door opens and Twilight kneels to her new sister-in-law.)
Shining: Twilight! (She stands up.) None of this would have been possible without you, little sis. (warmly) Love you, Twilie.
Twilight: Love you too, BBBFF.
(Big Brother Best Friend Forever, that is, as she explained in Part One. The siblings embrace for a long moment; after they separate, cut to inside the carriage as he climbs in next to Cadence. The sound of the door’s closing is heard.)
Shining: Ready to go?
Cadence: Oh! Almost forgot.
(Outside again; she leans out the window, bouquet at the ready, and heaves it backward over the roof. Lyra, Minuette, and Twinkleshine look up eagerly, but Rarity plows them all aside before a single hoof can leave the ground.)
Rarity: IT’S MINE!!
(It lands neatly in her outstretched forelegs, earning her a round of very dirty looks. She laughs nervously and floats it away from herself as if it had just gone radioactive. Cut to the rear end of the carriage, which rolls away from the camera to expose a couple of trailing horseshoes tied to the axle.)
Strings in; background lyrics in square brackets
Twilight: Love is in bloom
A beautiful bride, a handsome groom
I said, love is in bloom
We’re starting a life and making room
Drums out
For us [For us]
For us [Us]
(The previous chorus occurs in time with the scenes described from here until the “Song ends” note. Zoom out to frame Twilight and company watching the carriage go, then cut to a head-on view of her, Applejack, and Fluttershy. She begins speaking on the second line above.)
Twilight: Now this was a great wedding.
Spike: (from o.s.) Oh, yeah? (Cut to Pinkie, Rainbow, and Rarity; he sits on Pinkie’s head.) Just wait until you see what I have planned for the bachelor party!
(His knowing snicker only gets him a lot of funny looks—the result of his complete lack of knowledge about how and when this particular event should have taken place. All but Twilight promptly break out in a fit of the giggles; she crumples to the ground out of embarrassment, but joins in the laughter a moment later. Zoom out slowly and dissolve to a long shot of Canterlot, from which a volley of fireworks is launched; the last one bursts into a pair of concentric red/pink hearts. After these sparks have faded away, two bright stars twinkle briefly in the night sky.)
Song ends
(Fade to black at the same time, the stars standing out for a moment before they vanish.)
(The usual closing theme does not accompany the credits. In its place is the majestic anthem that played over the credits of Part Two of “The Return of Harmony”—full orchestra, brisk 4, F major transitioning to D major at the end.)