THE CUTIE MAP—PART ONE

Story by Meghan McCarthy

Written by Scott Sonneborn, M.A. Larson

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by M.A. Larson

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Co-directed by Jim Miller

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Note:                All lines marked with one asterisk (*) are delivered in hushed tones or whispers.

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to a stretch of road in Ponyville during the day. Ponies are going about their business in no particular hurry here, and the camera zooms in slowly pat them toward Twilight Sparkle’s tree-styled crystal castle—the end result of her battle against Tirek in “Twilight’s Kingdom.” Dissolve to the upper reaches of the throne room inside and tilt down to frame Twilight and her friends entering. Rainbow Dash, as usual, is the only one of the six airborne.)

(A close-up of Spike’s small throne, alongside Twilight’s, shows him to be fast asleep, snoring loudly and lying sideways over one armrest. Behind him, Pinkie Pie hops across the room and onto her own seat. Rainbow flies past next, the camera panning to follow her toward her throne. The motion brings Twilight into view, standing pensively alongside, during the following line. As each mare in turn sits down, the copy of her cutie mark set into the upper portion of her throne begins to glow.)

Twilight: Let’s go through this one more time. (Rainbow sits.)

Rainbow: (sighing; hoof to face) We’ve been over it, like, a million times, Twilight! (standing on cushion) We found all six keys, defeated Tirek, and got this sweet castle. End of story.

Twilight: Yes, but why? (Cut to Applejack.)

Applejack: (crossing to her throne, jumping on) I don’t know, sugar cube. Maybe it’s just your new house, and there ain’t nothin’ more to it than that.

Rarity: (from o.s.) I must say… (Cut to her, taking a seat.) …speaking strictly on aesthetics, there really doesn’t need to be more to it. It’s all simply divine!

Fluttershy: (climbing onto hers, sitting) I agree with Twilight, and Rarity, and Applejack, and Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie. (Close-up of the snoozing Spike; she continues o.s.) Oh, and probably Spike.

(Twilight paces the gold central circle ringed in by the thrones.)

Twilight: As Princess, I’ve been chosen to spread the magic of friendship across Equestria. So why would the Tree of Harmony want us to sit in a castle in Ponyville? (hopping onto her throne) It doesn’t make any sense!

(The flare of light on her throne’s mark is preceded by a brief flash from the one on her haunch. As all stare worriedly up at the markings set above their heads, the pink star emits a broad, pale violet beam that lances toward the center of the floor. Five more quickly join it from the other thrones, matching their occupants’ coat colors and forming a six-part circle that completely covers the gold of the floor. Low ridges of jagged crystal facets erupt upward from the periphery and trace in toward the center, the light show fading away at the same time. When they intersect, a broad circular table begins to rise and the screen fades to white.)

(Fade in to a close-up of Spike as he finally wakes up from his nap with a yawn, now bathed in radiance from this new phenomenon. He sits up, eyes popping wide in alarm; cut to an overhead view of the table and zoom out to frame the entire room. It now displays a remarkably detailed map, glowing gently in shades of pale blue, and all six ponies are staring in utter disbelief.)

Spike: Is that new? I like it.

(Fade to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to an overhead shot of the map and the group, now all standing on the cushions of their thrones. Zoom out slowly, then cut to tabletop level. Spike begins to walk across, showing the map to be only an image as his feet pass through the small-scale landscape. Each footstep causes that spot to glow briefly.)

Spike: This is incredible! It’s got all of Equestria! (Pinkie peers at the site of her family’s rock farm.)

Pinkie: Hi, Mom and Dad!

(One scaly foot comes down right on that spot, causing the big blue eyes to instantly fill with tears. Before the waterworks can start in earnest, though, Twilight’s cutie mark begins to pulse again; Pinkie’s is next, eliciting a giggle, then Fluttershy’s. Images of all six marks float free and up toward the ceiling, creating a formation with Twilight’s mark being orbited by the other five. This drops back to the table, hovering just above the map and cruising slowly through the simulated terrain to stop at the foothills of a mountain range that runs close to the Crystal Empire. Spike finds himself unceremoniously hoisted away by the Princess’s magic. The two pegasi have left their seats for a closer look, and the marks of all six have quieted down again.)

Fluttershy: (pointing to spots on map) But…if this is Ponyville, why are our cutie marks over there? (Spike now stands next to Twilight.)

Twilight: I don’t know, but it seems like the map wants us to find out. The Tree, the chest, this castle, and now the map. How can we not follow it? (Rainbow flies over to eye the foothills very closely.)

Rainbow: (smirking) You know what… (crossing to Twilight) …there’s a ton of room for dangerous adventure along that route. Count me in! (Applejack/Pinkie/Rarity are all off their thrones now.)

Applejack: Ah, shoot. I reckon you’re right.

Pinkie: Well, I was planning on organizing my baking sheets… (grinning) …but okay!

Rarity: (sighing contentedly) Very well.

(These last two lean in toward Fluttershy, who soon finds herself hemmed in from behind by Rainbow.)

Fluttershy: Um, maybe I’ll just stay here with Spike. (The daredevil shoots her a dirty look.)

Spike: (from o.s.) Awesome!        

(Cut to him, now standing on his throne again. He has donned a big foam-rubber hand whose fingers are cut into claw shapes, and on his head is a helmet with a gem-shaped beverage container mounted on either side. Straws run from these down the back and curve around under the ears to reach his mouth. He is, in short, ready for a day at the stadium.)

Spike: Me and Big Mac have a huge weekend ahead of us, talking hoofball and…and trading hoofball cards, and… (Back to Fluttershy, cringing mightily, and Rainbow; he continues o.s.) …arguing about hoofball stats…

Fluttershy: (forcing a smile, stammering a bit) On second thought, maybe I’d better go with them. (Rainbow smiles.) In case they need me.

(Zoom out slightly on the start of the next line to frame Twilight crossing to the pair.)

Twilight: Looks like it’s time for a road trip. (Exeunt the trio, followed by Applejack.)

Spike: (from o.s.) Well… (Back to him.) …suit yourself. (walking across table, smirking) But he’s got a Hock Fetlock rookie card I plan to sweet-talk right into these hot little claws.

(Dissolve to a stretch of railroad tracks well outside Ponyville. A train rises into view, topping a couple of hills and racing past; next it chugs across a bridge and through a tunnel, emerging to roll directly toward the camera. Snap to black as its headlight and cowcatcher fill the screen, then fade in to a yellow/black-striped barricade standing in a stretch of desert. The steel rails terminate here, bolted to the surface—the end of the line—and the train pulls into view, braking to a halt with almost no room to spare. There is the sound of clopping hooves, and a moment later the train accelerates back the way it came, exposing the six now standing/hovering on the hardpan. Twilight has a scroll open in her magical grip; after a few seconds of studying, she rolls it up and leads the group away.)

(Dissolve to a long shot of them crossing a rope/plank bridge strung across a broad ravine, then to a spot just behind them as they approach a cliff. The camera zooms in past them, putting them out of view. Laid out below them, among the desert rock formations, is a village consisting of two neatly aligned, parallel rows of plain-looking houses spaced closely together. A road winds across the plain, running through the two rows, and a single house stands alone at the far end to face the others.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) That’s it! (Cut to her, Applejack, and Rarity; the unicorn brushes herself off.) That’s the place on the map!

Rarity: (walking ahead) Right. Let’s get down there and find the spa.

(She is promptly intercepted by a teleporting Twilight, and the others catch up—all except for Pinkie—at the edge of the cliff.)

Twilight: Wait. We don’t know why the map sent us here. We shouldn’t just walk right in. It could be dangerous.

Rainbow: (pumping a hoof) Yes! (Pinkie zips up and holds her forelegs out to keep them all back.)

Pinkie: Stay behind me, everypony! (Extreme close-up.) I’m on it. (She leans out over the edge.)

Applejack: Careful, Pinkie!

(To which the goofball responds by letting gravity do its thing. She drops over the cliff as a whirling pink/magenta blur, then almost instantly comes up behind a rock at ground level to take cover. Throwing a quick glance ahead and a hoof gesture behind, she darts across the plain to crouch under three different rocks in sequence and scout the area. The first two are barely large enough to cover her from head to tail, while the third is at least twice her length and three times her height. It takes her only a bit of effort to hoist it up so she can look out; by this time, the others have made it down from the cliff. Another “come on” gesture is interrupted when the rock slams down on top of Pinkie—but as they begin to move,  its slow, grating progress across the baked earth indicates that she is alive and well under there. Once it comes to a stop, she puts her head up from behind for a look, followed by all but Fluttershy and Rainbow; these two choose to hover instead. Pinkie is slightly disheveled from her unconventional reconnaissance.)

(Cut to just behind Applejack and Pinkie, eyeing the town, and zoom in slowly. The central road is a broad one, and ponies are going about their normal lives.)

* Rainbow: (from o.s.) This is where the map sent us? Looks like the most boring place in Equestria.

(Close-up, panning slowly from one side of the road to the other. The locals, grown-ups and foals alike, have three things in common. One, generally muted mane/tail/coat colors. Two, broad toothy grins. Three, the same cutie mark—a gray equals sign—on every visible haunch.)

* Applejack: (from o.s.) That’s just an ordinary village fulla ordinary pony folk. (Back to the group.)

* Rarity: It could certainly use a few more architectural flourishes— (Funny look from Twilight.) —or any architectural flourishes.

* Fluttershy: I think it’s lovely. (Cut to Pinkie, now cleaned up.)

Pinkie: I don’t like it. (Zoom in to an extreme close-up.) I don’t like it one bit. (The group again.) I know smiles, and those smiles…

(Back to the villagers.)

Pinkie: (from o.s., scoffing) …they’re just not right.

* Twilight: (from o.s.) Forget the smiles. (Zoom in on one stallion’s mark.) Look at the cutie marks!

(The camera pans quickly here and there, showing that equals sign on every stallion, mare, and foal, then cuts back to the six out-of-towners.)

Rainbow: (pointing ahead) Okay. That’s weird.

(Snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to an overhead view of the village, close enough to show that every house along the road is identical in appearance to all the others. On the start of the next line, pan away from the tableau to frame the group still hunkered behind their rock.)

* Twilight: An entire village with the same cutie mark? How can that be?

* Rainbow: I bet there’s some sort of horrific monster behind it.

* Twilight: What makes you say that?

* Rainbow: ’Cause fighting a horrific monster would be super-awesome!

* Applejack: I reckon we oughta just head into town and talk to some locals—find out what’s goin’ on.

* Rainbow: Great idea, AJ. Let’s go.

(She zooms ahead, the apple farmer and the winged unicorn following, but Pinkie holds her ground.and her suspicions.)

* Pinkie: Those smiles are bad news!

(She slinks down and o.s. Cut to an extreme close-up of Applejack’s tail, which retreats from the camera to frame the village as she and the others walk down its road, then to a pan across the area. Normal speaking volume resumes at this point as one resident after another calls out “Welcome!” Those big grins never waver even a particle.)

Fluttershy: This must be the most pleasant place in Equestria!

(A pegasus mare, Night Glider, flies up to her. Dark blue-gray coat; straight mane/tail striped in white and pale blue-grays; medium blue eyes.)

Night: Welcome! (Fluttershy giggles; Rainbow groans, hoof to forehead.)

Rainbow: (sarcastically) Thanks a lot, map.

(Street level. A unicorn stallion, Party Favor, approaches the group. Pale blue-gray coat; short-cut mane/tail striped in two shades of medium blue-gray; light blue eyes. A short cloak of rough, dingy brown cloth is tied around his shoulders with a length of rope.)

Party: Welcome! (to Twilight) Pardon my forwardness, but…are you an alicorn? (Twilight grins hugely; Applejack gestures to her.)

Applejack: That there’s the Princess of Friendship.

Party: Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place for friendship.

(He puts a peculiar inflection on this last word, leaning very slightly closer. Now an earth pony stallion joins the gathering; white coat with the faintest gray tinge; short mane/tail in white and pale gray; darker blue eyes than Party’s. This is Double Diamond, whose tone of voice reeks of forced bonhomie.)

Double: What brings you to town?

Twilight: We’re not entirely sure.

Double: I see. Well, all are welcome here in our little village. My name is Double Diamond, and this is Party Favor.

Applejack: Howdy, Double Diamond. I’m Applejack— (gesturing to others in turn) —and this here’s Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Twilight Sparkle.

(Twilight wipes the unease off her face with a big grin, and Double leans in to eye her cutie mark, moving to Pinkie’s during the next line.)

Double: And you all have your own unique cutie marks!

(The fluffy magenta tail flicks forward to cover the three balloons; he backs away, not noticing the general disquiet his scrutiny has raised.)

Twilight: If you don’t mind, has there been any sort of…trouble here lately?

Double: Trouble? Why, I don’t think we’ve ever had trouble in our little village.

Party: It’s true. You’ll see.

(He makes a tiny little noise of satisfaction; now the two begin to lead the visitors along the road.)

Double: Perhaps you’d care to speak to our founder, Starlight Glimmer.

Fluttershy: I wish everypony in Equestria was as friendly as these ponies are.

Pinkie: (looking behind herself) I’ve got my eye on them.

(Her perspective of the grinning faces.)

Pinkie: Something’s rotten in… (Back to her.) …whatever the name of this village is that we’re in right now!

(The two escorts stop at the door of the single house at the far end of the road; it opens at their knock.)

Double: Starlight? (They lead the mares in.) We have some new visitors.

(Cut to just inside. Nothing remarkable about the construction or furnishings in this area, except for a framed picture of an equals sign hanging crooked on one wall. At the far end of this room are a closed door and a flight of stairs leading to the second story.)

* Rainbow: (to Applejack) Be ready to fight. We don’t know what’s gonna come through that door.

(Zoom in on said door as they face front. It swings open to reveal Starlight Glimmer, who steps out into the light from the semi-darkness beyond. Unicorn mare; light pinkish-violet coat; bright blue eyes with a faint purple tint; deep purple mane/tail with one streak each of lighter purple and light green. The mane is loosely gathered at the back of her head to form a gently curling wave, the end of her tail showing the same contour, and her bangs are split by her horn so that each side contains both additional colors. Unlike the other residents, her coloration is not muted. Her tone of voice is quite cheerful.)

Starlight: Welcome! I’m so pleased to have you here!

(This pronouncement briefly robs Rainbow of her power of speech through sheer surprise, but she recovers it with a disgusted groan.)

Double: (gesturing to each in turn) This is Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Rainbow Dash… (Close-up of Twilight; he continues o.s.) …and Twilight Sparkle.

(Zoom out slightly; the Princess grins sheepishly as Starlight runs a critical eye over her. The village founder bears the same equals-sign cutie mark as all others here.)

Starlight: Forgive my bluntness, but I’m assuming it’s Princess Twilight Sparkle? We don’t get many alicorns around here.

Twilight: Yes, but “Twilight” is fine.

Starlight: So, how did you hear of our little village?

Twilight: It’s kind of a long story. Let’s just say we found it on a map.

Pinkie: Technically, it’s a tree-chest-castle map!

(Her bubbly demeanor instantly shifts to deepest distrust as she pulls her head ever so slowly out of view, but Starlight seems not to notice.)

Starlight: Well, however you found us, we’re happy to have you. We’re happy to have anypony who wants to experience true friendship for the first time.

(Her last six words are enough to drain the good vibes from the faces of Twilight, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity when the camera cuts back to them.)

Applejack: Say what?

Starlight: (pacing) Oh, indeed. That’s what’s so unique about our village, you see.

(Close-up of the crooked picture.)

Starlight: (from o.s., reaching into view to straighten it) Around here, we don’t flaunt our special talents— (Pan to her.) —because we don’t have any special talents to flaunt.

Twilight: Is that why you all have those cutie marks? (Zoom in to a close-up of Starlight’s as she finishes.)

Starlight: Perhaps it would be easier to understand if I gave you a tour of the village.

Military drum cadence, stately 4

Second bar punctuated by a drum major’s whistle

Woodwinds and brass enter on third bar (E flat major)

(Cut to just outside the closed front door, which opens to let her out, and zoom out as she emerges onto the road, hooves falling in time to the beat. A couple of others stand nearby.)

Starlight: Heads high, ponies! Marching proud! (They fall in.) All together now, every one of you! (Others follow suit; she addresses a closed door.) Nopony left behind!

(It opens; two more join the formation, as does a third from nearby.)

Starlight:        Life is so grand in our town

(She stretches her cheeks into a huge grin.)

                We’re always filled with cheer

(shading her eyes to look back and forth)

                We never have to look around

                To know that we’re all here

(The locals march a circle around the group, none of whom is at ease anymore.)

Ponies:        In our town, in our town

                We don’t have to wait

(Starlight nods her head confidently, keeping the beat.)

                To find out that our destiny

                Is just to emulate

Starlight: (marching past a line) Let’s see those big happy smiles!

(Face after face complies. Cut to a close-up of two stallions side by side; around their grins, the screen fades to light blue.)

Starlight:        Life is a smile in our town

(The two sets of teeth whirl around each other in a circling blur and resolve into the equals sign.)

                Our cutie marks the same

(Zoom out. It is the mark of one pony marching in the formation. They stop, pivot, and face forward in a line.)

                Because we do not separate

                Ourselves by more than name

(Rainbow finds a pegasus stallion flying up on either side of her.)

Ponies:        In our town, in our town

(Each lays a hoof on the shoulder nearest to him.)

                We dare not compete

(Pull her gently down to the ground.)

                Winning only breeds the worst

                Ego-filled conceit

(The flummoxed flyer gets a scare thrown into her when Starlight pops up immediately behind.)

Starlight: You see? Now everypony wins!

F major

(She marches on down the road.)

Starlight:        Life is a joy in our town

                We’re all equal here

(She eyes a unicorn mare whose mane hangs free and magically braids it to match the style of the one next to her.)

                No one is superior

                And no one shakes in fear

(The populace processes past the Ponyville contingent.)

Ponies:        In our town, in our town

                We work as a team

(Assorted negative reactions from all except Fluttershy.)

                You can’t have a nightmare

                If you never dream

(Pinkie’s scowl is directed just past Fluttershy, but the yellow pegasus misses it as Starlight comes up on her other side and begins to slink behind them.)

E flat major

Starlight:        Other ponies argue

                Do you ever wonder why?

(She moves toward Twilight and Rarity.)

                When you think your talent’s special

(running a hoof over Twilight’s horn, pushing her head down)

                You don’t see eye to eye

(Elsewhere, a line of four mares is dancing, one of them out of step.)

Modulate to F major over the next four lines

Starlight:         There’s just too many differences

                That lead to disarray

(This one catches sight of the founder and hurriedly corrects her rhythm.)

                But when you learn to act as one

                It’s like a holiday

(Five of the six friends are really having trouble buying any of this now.)

Ponies:        In our town, in our town

(Fluttershy bobs her head blissfully…)

                We don’t complicate

(…but stops upon getting an eyeful of Pinkie’s squinting glare and head shake. The blue-green eyes go big, sad, and soulful in a twinkling.)

                 When you learn to simplify

                Life is oh so great

(Overhead shot; the ponies are describing a large circle around the six.)

                Join in our utopia

                Come out of the dark

(They rearrange into two parallel lines, one to either side of the group.)

                Banded by equality

(Ground level, zooming out from Starlight and between the two lines.)

                By our cutie mark

(Several pegasi rise into the air above the display, and two fly ahead carrying the ends of a banner displaying the equals sign.)

Song ends

(The moment is broken by raucous laughter from the o.s. Rainbow; cut to her in midair.)

Rainbow: You’re kidding, right? Give up our cutie marks? No way!

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Rainbow Dash! (Cut to her on the ground; Rainbow descends to her.) Don’t be so rude. I don’t think we should judge them. (smiling) They all seem perfectly happy with their choice. (Pan to frame Pinkie on her other side.)

Pinkie: Don’t believe their smiles, Fluttershy. (Cut to Twilight.)

Twilight: (addressing the o.s. Starlight) I’m sorry, I guess we’re just a little confused by all of this. (To Starlight.)

Starlight: We have no judgments here in our village. (The ponies behind her nod.) Each of us was confused once as well—blinded by the false promise of our cutie marks.

Rainbow: (from o.s.) Whoa-whoa-whoa. (Cut to her.) Is she for real?

(Now it is Twilight’s turn to shut her down with a hard look. The winged unicorn then faces front with a slightly puzzled smile and steps ahead.)

Twilight: When we were sent to this village, we assumed it was to help in some way. But…well…it doesn’t seem like you need any help.

Starlight: (crossing to her) Have you considered, perhaps, that you might have been sent here so we could help you?

(She taps a hoof to Twilight’s chest on this last word to drive her point home.)

Starlight: (turning away) After all, nopony has ever come to our village and wanted to leave. (Slow pan across the Ponyville six; she continues o.s.) Why should you be any different? (Back to her.) But that is entirely your choice. (walking past them) Please, enjoy our little corner of Equestria. We’re all quite fond of it.

(She stops and aims a knowing glance back at the six.)

Starlight: No doubt you will be as well. Double Diamond, please help our guests with whatever they might need.

(Cut to the guests on the end of this; Double steps up, his smile in place as ever.)

Double: Of course.

(They are a bit taken aback by his unrelenting good humor. Pan from them to frame Starlight looking on with perhaps a trace of smugness; she turns away after a moment.)

Starlight: (to herself) Well… (walking off) …this will certainly provide a boost to our little community. When the rest of Equestria sees that a princess gave up her cutie mark to join us… (Zoom in slowly to an extreme close-up, the eyes narrowing.) …they’ll finally understand what we’re trying to accomplish.

(Snap to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to the six walking along the main road. Five ill at ease, one smiling tranquilly as before. Calls of “Welcome” greet them as they pass.)

Twilight: (to herself) A cutie mark is a representation of a pony’s unique talents and skills. How is it possible to—

(Her musings are sharply cut off by a horrified gasp from Rarity.)

Rarity: (pointing ahead) What in the name of Equestria is that?

(Pan quickly ahead to a rack of cloaks standing outside one of the houses—all as shoddy and grungy as the one worn by Party. A zoom out frames this rack and a duplicate in front of a building marked by a hanging sign that has been carved and painted to match these garments. The proprietor, a bulky earth pony stallion, stands at the racks and wears one of his own.)

Shopkeeper: Welcome! Care to sample some local fashion? (flicking his hem) We’ve got cloaks this month!

(His toothy grin is met by Rarity’s bulging cheeks and a mighty strain to keep herself from vomiting at the sight of this sartorial incompetence. She finally gets herself under control, letting her tongue hang out and a strangled noise of disgust escape her lips, and slaps on a queasy smile.)

Rarity: Wha—? Oh, uh… (chuckling, backing away slowly with Twilight) …perhaps another time, good sir. Thank you.

(They join the other four at a table outside a building whose muffin-shaped sign suggests a bakery.)

* Rarity: (to Applejack) No wonder nopony’s wearing anything! (Pan to Fluttershy, on Applejack’s other side.)

* Fluttershy: (reprovingly) Really, girls! They may do things a bit differently than we’re used to, but that’s no reason to be rude.

* Rainbow: No, the reason to be rude is that they all keep staring at us!

(Cut to her perspective on the end of this, panning slowly across the road. Her rough assessment proves to be an accurate one; every passerby’s eyes are turned toward the gang. Cut to Double at a table outside a different house; nearby is a unicorn mare, Sugar Belle. Light pinkish-gray coat; purplish-gray mane/tail, the former in a bun; deep red-violet eyes; battered white apron tied in place around her midsection with a piece of rope. She holds an order pad in one front hoof.)

Double: (waving) Need something?

(Pan to frame the mares; they are seated directly across the road from these two.)

Twilight: (forcing a grin) Uh, no. We’re good. (to the others) Fluttershy’s right.

(Sugar emerges from the bakery and crosses behind them, unnoticed and no longer carrying the pad.)

Twilight: If we’re gonna get to the bottom of why the map sent us here, we’ll need the help of these ponies.

(This shot frames Sugar’s eyes as red-violet; she ends up standing among them, still not drawing any attention to herself.)

Applejack: I think we ran off to the end of Equestria before we even knew what that map was!

Pinkie: If we were at the end of Equestria, we’d be sitting on a big A! (Giggle.) Get it?

(Her wordplay goes over like a lead balloon.)

Rarity: Oh, please, Miss Pie. This is hardly the time for jokes. We’ve come all this way, and for what? (Sugar walks off, worried…)

Twilight: Maybe you’re right. But we’re here now. And it sure feels like something’s wrong. (…and ends up between Applejack and Fluttershy.)

Applejack: (dryly) That and two bits’ll get you a cup of cider.

Sugar: Is this a bad time?

Fluttershy: (not noticing her) We shouldn’t be bickering like this in front of our new friends. (icily) Really, Applejack, you’re almost as bad as Rainbow Dash!

Rainbow: Don’t drag me into this!

(A little way down the block, a stallion and mare put their front hooves over the ears of three foals to keep their little minds untainted by this contention.)

Sugar: (to Rarity) Is your friendship ending?

Pinkie: Are you crazy? We’d never let a disagreement get in the way of food!

Sugar: (a bit rattled) Okay, well…my name is Sugar Belle. What can I bring you? (She levitates her pad up to eye level.) We have muffins…

(The inflection on this last word suggests that she is about to begin a list of items, but there are no more words coming—as the mares realize once the silence begins to drag out.)

Twilight: (smiling uneasily) Then I guess we’ll take six muffins.

Pinkie: (eagerly) Make that twelve! (Funny looks from the other five; Sugar heads off.) Whaaaaat? I’m hungry!

* Twilight: Come on, girls. We’ve gotta stick together. It doesn’t matter what happened before. We’re here now.

Applejack: (smiling briefly) Ah, I guess you’re right. And the sooner we figure out why, the sooner we can go home.

(Order up: a plate piled high with irregularly shaped, thoroughly unappetizing-looking muffins. The curls of vapor rising off their tops are closer in color to smoke than steam, and the overall appearance of this repast is enough to make Applejack think two or three times about biting into them. Sugar has returned to the table and put her pad away.)

Sugar: Forgive me for overhearing, but just a moment ago you were disagreeing, and now it sounds like you’re agreeing.

Applejack: (dryly) Uh-huh.

Sugar: Well, you had such differing opinions—and cutie marks.

Rarity: (airily) We have differing opinions all the time, darling.

Sugar: But you look like you’re friends.

Twilight: We are friends. A simple disagreement wouldn’t change that.

(On the end of this line, pan to Double at the table across the street. He is pretending to read a newspaper, but the slip of his grin gives away his intent eavesdropping. Sugar struggles to keep her own composure, throwing him a sidewise glance.)

Sugar: I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time understanding. (as if reciting from memory) Different talents lead to different opinions, which lead to bitterness and misery. (normal tone) So, why aren’t you bitter and—

(On the beginning of the recitation, cut to a slow pan across the table; only Pinkie is having a go at the muffins, but they are clearly not up to her usual standards. Back to Sugar for the final sentence; she stops short when the o.s. pink party pony spits out the one she has been chewing on. At the table, her retch of utter revulsion draws a round of confused/dirty looks—so she gets a great big smile in place across her crumb-speckled cheeks.)

Pinkie: Mmmm! (Chuckle.) Good! (There are bits stuck to her teeth as well.)

Sugar: It’s all right. I know I’m not a very good baker—at least, I’m not any better than anypony else in the village.

(A glance of barely contained panic over her shoulder, the camera panning to follow; Double is now listening very carefully. High-strung nerves come through loud and clear in her next words. Pinkie’s face is now clean.)

Sugar: Well, I hope you enjoy our little village.

(As soon as she turns to enter the bakery, Pinkie lets her tongue hang out and begins scrubbing madly at it to remove all traces of the offending pastry residue. She has barely cleaned it all away when Sugar returns to the table, no hint of a smile or fake cheer in evidence.)

* Sugar: Come inside before you go. Meet me downstairs.

(Throwing a grin to the hard-faced Double, she whisks inside.)

Rainbow: Okay, that was weird too.

* Twilight: (floating a muffin up) Let’s all sit here and eat these muffins and act normal. (glancing away) I think we’re being watched.

 (The camera pans quickly from place to place, picking out the fixed grins and wide eyes, then cuts back to a close-up of Rainbow.)

Rainbow: (sarcastically) You think? (Pan to Twilight on the start of the next line.)

* Twilight: No, not like that. (cocking an eye and an ear) I mean, somepony here doesn’t want us talking to Sugar Belle.

(A slight flick of her head across the road, and the camera pans to Double at his table, eagerly chomping into a badly made muffin of his own. A round of hard thinking on the mares’ part ends when Applejack is first to speak.)

Applejack: I got an idea—but you gotta eat all of them muffins, Pinkie.

Pinkie: (shocked, hunkering down, pulling mane over face) Me? Why me?

* Applejack: You got a stronger stomach than any of us. And that filly in there might be our best chance of findin’ out what in the hay is goin’ on around here.

(Cut to a close-up of the tray, framing the pink mare behind it eyeing the contents as if she has just been asked to gulp down a barrel of toxic waste, and zoom in on it. One dissolve later, there is only a single muffin remaining—and a sweating, green-faced Pinkie slumped so far down that only the table edge under her chin is keeping her from keeling over altogether. One trembling foreleg reaches up to collect this last vile item and stuff it into her mouth.)

Applejack: (from o.s., loudly and a bit stilted) I can’t believe you ate all our muffins, Pinkie Pie! (Cut to frame the entire table; all but Pinkie grin widely.) We’d best go inside and get some more!

(Inside the bakery, the five spectators descend a staircase into shadows.)

Twilight: Nice work, Pinkie!

(The equine garbage disposal—literally stuffed to bursting—tumbles down after them. Her face has lost its sickly hue.)

Pinkie: (weakly) I’ve accidentally eaten cardboard tastier than that! (Close-up of Twilight.)

Twilight: Hello? Sugar Belle? (Zoom out to frame all six; Pinkie has recovered her normal dimensions.)

Sugar: (from o.s.) Thank you for coming.

(She steps out from a dim recess of this basement, eyes desperately at odds with her artificial grin.)

Twilight: Why did you want us to come down here?

Sugar: (eyebrows lowering) So nopony could see what’s about to happen.

(Sudden panic takes hold in the Ponyville crew’s minds, fueled by the emergence of Party and then Night from opposite sides. As they and Sugar close in slowly, Twilight tenses herself and prepares a spell—but lets it fizzle out when Party leans toward her, all friendly again.)

Party: Are you really the Princess of Friendship? (Night does the same.)

Night: Do you know Princess Celestia?

Sugar: (lifting Pinkie’s rump) I love your cutie mark! (Night hovers next to Fluttershy and Rarity.)

Night: How can you be friends with different cutie marks? (She lands.) Don’t you end up hating each other? (Close-up of Fluttershy.)

Sugar: (from o.s., reaching to examine her mark) Oh, look at this one! (She leans into view.) This one’s great too! I’d love to have my special talent back, even just for a day. (sadly) Make something besides those disgusting muffins.

Rainbow: So what’s stopping you? Go get your cutie marks back.

Party: Daydreaming is one thing— (Sugar crosses to him and Night.) —but you mean…actually having it put back on? (Night chews her lower lip fearfully.) That seems extreme. (A grimace from Rainbow.)

Sugar: I’m not sure Starlight would like that. She wants us all to be happy in our sameness.

Twilight: How do you take somepony’s cutie mark, anyway?

Night: (smiling blissfully) The Cutie Un-Marking is a beautiful experience. Starlight uses the Staff of Sameness to magically take them away and replace them with these.

(On these last five words, she, Party, and Sugar pivot proudly to display their identical marks.)

Twilight: But…nopony should keep you from your cutie mark. It represents such an essential part of who you are.

Night: Oh, we’re not kept from them. They’re in the vault, up in the caves. We can visit them anytime we like— (Cut to a slow pan across the six, dismayed/irked; she continues o.s.) —to remind us of the heartache of a life with special talents.

(The magical prodigy chews this over a few thousand times within a second or so, then smiles shrewdly.)

Twilight: Can we visit this cave?

(Dissolve to an uphill stretch of a mountain trail. Starlight leads Twilight and company into view.)

Starlight: I’m delighted you’re interested in our cutie mark vault. We hope someday, everypony in Equestria will make a pilgrimage here to our little village, to have theirs removed too, and our message of perfectly equal friendship can finally spread across the land.

(She passes out of view shortly after the beginning of her second sentence; Rarity throws a suspicious glance back down the trail and finds Double following the group. After this, the camera cuts back to Starlight and remains on her until the second half of the sentence, when it returns to the six. Her last few words fade into the background as Twilight begins to address the others and Rainbow drops out of her hover to walk alongside.)

* Twilight: This must be the reason we’re here.

* Pinkie: Pilgrimage-ing?

* Twilight: No. (Close-up.) Helping those ponies get their cutie marks back.         

* Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Oh… (Pan to her.) …are you sure, Twilight? Maybe they miss them a little, but even they didn’t seem all that unhappy.

* Twilight: Then why did they want to meet us in secret?

(Pan back from her on this line, putting her o.s.; Rarity again throws a hairy eyeball at the trailing Double. The camera then cuts back to Twilight.)

* Twilight: And why did they ask us not to tell Starlight who told us about the vault? Something’s not right.

(Cut to Starlight, who has stopped at the entrance to a cave.)

Starlight: (waving) Just through here!

(In she goes, the others following at a distance; cut to just inside and zoom out to frame her, now stopped and bathed in a bluish radiance from something just ahead o.s.)

Starlight: Behold!

 

(Twelve eyes pop in purest surprise, Twilight’s mouth falling open in close-up, and the camera tracks around her in a semicircle to stop behind the group. A zoom out frames the source of the light: a vast grid of square compartments, a cutie mark housed in nearly every one. The entire assembly is held within a vertical frame, mounted at the far end of the cave and topped by a blue-glowing equals sign. In front of this vault is a pedestal, on which a wooden rod is balanced; the upper portion of its length is carved as a thick spiral and splits into two parallel tines, similar to a tuning fork.)

Starlight: Our cutie mark vault!

(Cut to an extreme close-up of the grid, panning/cutting here and there to clearly display the multitude of pictures that used to adorn various ponies’ haunches. A sheen of reflected light suggests that they are being kept under glass.)

Twilight: (from o.s., awestruck) I’ve never seen anything like it! (Cut to the pedestal.)

Starlight: (approaching) And here is the Staff of Sameness. (floating it away) It was one of the great Mage Meadowbrook’s nine enchanted items.

(Cut to Twilight and Pinkie; the latter gapes at it, but the former gets a thought working.)

Starlight: (from o.s.) We are incredibly fortunate to have it here. (Back to her.) This is the tool that allows us to free ourselves from our marks. (smiling cheerfully) I’m curious. How did the subject of the vault come up? (Cut to Twilight/Applejack/Pinkie.)

Pinkie: Oh, some ponies were telling us how much they missed their cutie marks, and— (Dirty looks from Twilight and Applejack.)

Twilight: (sharply) Pinkie!

Pinkie: (front hooves over mouth) Oops. (She hunkers down.)

Starlight: (from o.s., gasping in fake surprise) Were they?

(Cut to her, magically hefting the Staff of Sameness.)

Starlight: (crossing to group, twirling it) Well, it seems you inspire all sorts of free thinking… (sharply) …don’t you?

Rarity: (chuckling nervously, stammering a bit) Oh! Well, well, we—we certainly didn’t intend to cause any disruptions to your charming little— (Starlight leans into her face.)

Starlight: Good. Let’s just make sure of that, shall we?

(Rarity backs away cautiously during this line, the camera panning to follow her and put Starlight o.s. She remembers Double’s presence only after colliding with him—and he is no longer alone. Ponies begin to advance inexorably from the periphery, every face frozen in a wide-eyed grin.)

Twilight: It’s a trap!

(As the new arrivals steadily close ranks, she warms up her horn and teleports herself to a point several yards above the cave floor. Before she can crank off another spell, however, Starlight levels the tuning-fork end of the Staff and fires a double beam that nails the airborne Princess square in the gut. Its effect is to quell her battle readiness and leave her “standing” frozen in midair; another bit of concentration from the unicorn, and Twilight’s cutie mark begins to pull away from her haunch. She cries out in pain, sweat trickling down her face…the group of stars detaches, connected to the light violet hide only by a thin wisp of energy…and then this breaks and the mark floats away. Twilight falls silent as it floats down to stop between the Staff’s tines, and Starlight shifts the implement toward herself so she can regard the captured mark with a crazed grin. A flick of the Staff sends it hurtling over the shoulder toward the vault; the glass cover on an empty compartment slides open to receive it, then snaps shut again.)

(Twilight’s flank remains blank for only a moment before the gray equals sign fades into view on it. At the same time, her coat/mane/tail colors lose some of their brightness, taking on a subdued appearance similar to those of the other villagers. She thumps insensate to the ground, and Starlight wastes no time in using the Staff against her five friends; they choke back their own cries of torment, and their marks are all too easily separated and locked away. Cut to Fluttershy/Pinkie/Rainbow, being re-marked and with their colors faded and belligerence gone. Back to Starlight on the start of the next line, crossing to the group—all similarly afflicted.)

Starlight: (mock pity) Oh, I don’t blame you for what you tried to do here today. (Twilight stands up.) You’ve spent your whole lives thinking those marks are a good thing.

Twilight: Give them back!

Starlight: (walking away) Well, now you can spend the rest of your lives here, with us. (floating Staff onto its pedestal) And we’ll teach you just how much better life can be without your cutie marks.

(Cut to a long overhead shot of the assembly and zoom out. The extra goons have formed a double line to hem the six mares in on left and right, and Starlight and the pedestal stand at the end of this tableau that is closer to the vault. The camera rotates 90 degrees during the zoom to frame the two lines horizontally; at the same time, the white bars of an equals sign superimpose themselves on these and the screen fades to black behind them. Snap briefly to black, fade in to a “To be continued…” title card, and fade to black.)

Continued in Part Two


THE CUTIE MAP—PART TWO

Story by Meghan McCarthy

Written by Scott Sonneborn, M.A. Larson

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by M.A. Larson

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Co-directed by Jim Miller

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 in to Twilight Sparkle addressing her friends in the throne room of her castle—the prologue of Part One.)

Twilight: As Princess, I’ve been chosen to spread the magic of friendship across Equestria.

(Long shot of the castle during the day, zooming in slowly.)

Twilight: (voice over) So why would the Tree of Harmony want us to sit in a castle in Ponyville?

(The throne room again: the ridges of crystal lacing in from the six full-size seats converge at the center of the floor, and the table begins to rise.)

Spike: (voice over) This is incredible!

(Fade to white, then snap to an overhead shot of all seven staring at the magical map that has appeared on the new furniture. Zoom out slowly.)

Spike: (voice over) It’s got all of Equestria!

(Close-up of Twilight and Pinkie Pie in turn, each with her cutie mark flaring up, then cut to the cluster of all six images roving over the map toward the distant foothills.)

Fluttershy: (voice over) Why are our cutie marks over there?

(Cut to a scene from Act One: the group—sans Spike, recall—has reached the cliff overlooking the desert village to which the map has guided them. Zoom in past them to frame the double row of houses and the single one belonging to Starlight Glimmer.)

Twilight: (voice over) Seems like the map wants us to find out.

(Act Two: cut to a stretch of road filled with permanently grinning locals going about their day and pan from here to another busy area.)

Twilight: (voice over, hushed) An entire village with the same cutie mark? (Cut to Starlight, stepping out from a darkened doorway within her house.)

Starlight: Welcome!

(Act Three: cut to one group of smiling, staring ponies and pan to two others.)

Fluttershy: (voice over) This must be the most pleasant place in Equestria!

(To Starlight, leading the group up into the mountains; as she speaks, cut to behind them, now facing the cutie mark vault, and zoom out to frame all of it.)

Starlight: I’m delighted you’re interested in our cutie mark vault. (Twilight realizes that…)

Twilight: It’s a trap!

(The magic from the Staff of Sameness pulls the mark from her haunch; cut to the vault as those of all six are locked away behind glass.)

Starlight: (voice over) Now you can spend the rest of your lives here…

(During this line, cut to Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rainbow Dash—colors faded, fighting spirit gone, equals signs appearing on the newly blank flanks. The camera then shifts to an overhead shot of this cave, having rotated to horizontally frame the double line of ponies that has hemmed in the group. All six have had their colors partially bleached out; recall that by this point, they have all had their marks replaced by equals signs. A large white one superimposes itself on the double line as the entire scene fades to black.)

Starlight: (voice over) …without your cutie marks.

(Fade to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to a slow pan across the village road, from one side to the other. The area is deserted except for a stallion and mare standing on either side of the front door to one house, at the end opposite the one used by Starlight. Even though she is not present, her voice makes itself heard easily, with an eerily calm tone.)

Starlight: (amplified, slightly muffled) In sameness there is peace. (Muffled thumping from within.) Exceptionalism is a lie.

(Dissolve to the source of these exhortations—a loudspeaker mounted on the rafters inside. The voice is heard clearly now, and all lines spoken by Starlight during this scene come in through the loudspeaker.)

Starlight: Free yourself from your cutie mark.

(Zoom out to frame the entire space. All six mares have been confined to this room, whose walls are liberally decorated with equals-sign posters and pictures, and Pinkie is perusing a book, taken from a shelf, whose pages show nothing but this symbol. Twilight stands thinking; Applejack paces the floor; Fluttershy huddles in a corner, near a feed trough full of hay, to peek out one of the narrow windows; Rainbow hammers ineffectually at the door—the cause of the thumping—and Rarity gloomily regards the drab window curtains in another corner. The purpose of this building is now clear: they have been placed here under guard in an attempt to break their resistance to Starlight’s doctrine, including the propaganda being piped in.)

Starlight: Choose equality as your special talent. (Close-up of Rainbow, ramming the door; the volume fades somewhat.) Difference is frustration. To excel is to fail. (She gives up.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) Hey! (Cut to her.) This is pretty good! (Flip pages; equals sign on every one.)

Starlight: Be your best by never being your best. (Twilight and Applejack pace; the broadcast volume fades to near-inaudibility as Twilight speaks.)

Twilight: (groaning) We’ve gotta find a way out of here. I can’t take much more of that voice!

Rarity: (distraught, mascara running) Oh, this is horrible! (She starts crying.)

Fluttershy: (crossing to her; gently touching her back) There, there, Rarity. It’s not so bad.

Rarity: (suddenly angry) Yes, it is! Look at those drapes! (Close-up of one window, zooming in; she continues o.s.) I have no idea if they’re tacky or not! (Back to Fluttershy.)

Fluttershy: Well, I think they’re nice.

(The equals sign on Rarity’s haunch flares black for a moment, and she starts into a despairing moan that works its way up toward fire-siren pitch before turning into a fresh crying jag. Two Pinkie-caliber gushers of tears accompany it.)

Rarity: SO DO I!! (Fluttershy backs away slowly; a bird lands at the windowsill with a chirp.)

Fluttershy: Oh, thank goodness! (crossing to it) Can you help us, little birdie?

(It twitters a response—and then the yellow pegasus gets the same flare as her formerly fashion-attuned friend.)

Fluttershy: Go on now! Fly away and get us help!

(It voices a puzzled reply in close-up; zoom out to frame a flustered Fluttershy.)

Fluttershy: Oh… (It flies off.) …even tweets don’t make sense anymore!

(Cut to Rainbow, sitting on her haunches with her back against the door. The clatter of hooves snaps her out of her deep blue funk and prompts her to go airborne an instant before Applejack gallops into view. The farm pony pivots, crashes both rear hooves into the planks—and ends up tumbling forward rather than smashing them to toothpicks. She fetches up on her belly with a groan of pain and disgust.)

Applejack: This door’s shut tighter than a… (losing steam; she stands and Rainbow hovers down) …summer of… (Her mark flashes.) …uh, piglets in…shoot! I can’t even make country-isms no more! (Pinkie stands up into view.)

Pinkie: I don’t know. Maybe it’ll be super-fun to be all the same! (Hers goes off; perkiness goes bye-bye.) Sort of. More pleasant than fun, I guess. (She sits down to her book.)

Twilight: (pacing) Something odd about that staff. I haven’t studied eastern unicorns as much as I should’ve, but I’m pretty sure Meadowbrook only had eight magical items, not nine. And I don’t remember any of them being a staff.

Applejack: (flopping onto her back) Well, it looks like you’ll have plenty of time to try to think about it.

(The camera angle of Twilight’s pacing picks out a tub of water standing next to the hay trough, not previously visible in this sequence. She is referring to Starlight’s claim in Part One that the Staff is one of the nine enchanted items belonging to the mage of old. Applejack pulls her hat over her eyes on the end of the previous line and closes her eyes for a nap; cut to an overhead shot of the room. Twilight sits on her haunches; Rainbow settles onto her belly; Applejack is lying with her hind legs propped against the door; the other three are as before. The propaganda fades up again and continues as shown below, over a sequence of dissolves that shift the mares into assorted positions around the room. Every book Pinkie takes from the shelf has equals signs on pages and cover. One shot, from ground level, picks out Twilight once again pacing the floor and thinking very hard, tongue clamped between teeth. When the view shifts to overhead again, she does her best to keep her wits about her, but the others have gone to sleep in the late-day dimness. Two parallel shafts of sunlight shine in from the front windows, gradually lengthening and lightening the enclosure and eventually fading away altogether—a new morning has come. The repetition of previous slogans gives them away as part of a recording on continuous playback.)

Starlight: Choose equality as your special talent. Difference is frustration. To excel is to fail. Be your best by never being your best. Conformity will set you free. Accept your limitations, and happiness will follow. You’re no better than your friends.

(The winged unicorn snaps to her hooves, the broadcast fading greatly in volume as she begins to speak.)

Twilight: I’ve got it! (The others wake up with a cry of surprise.) I know how we can get out.

Rainbow: (sighing wearily) Forget it, Twilight. This door’s not opening. (Cut to Rarity.)

Rarity: And I’m afraid the windows are much too small for escape. (Zoom out to frame Twilight.)

Twilight: (shrewdly) But there is a third way.

Pinkie: (from o.s.) Of course! (Cut to her.) Eventually the wind and weather will wear down the walls until they start to crumble. Then when [sic] all we have to do is wait for a big enough hole to form, and we can just walk out! It’s the perfect plan! (Mark flares; she loses her cheer.) I guess.

Twilight: We don’t actually have to escape. They’ll just let us out when they think we’ve accepted their philosophy.

Applejack: But they’re never gonna believe we switched over in just one night. (Cut to Twilight.)

Twilight: There’s one of us they might believe.

(As she speaks, pan away from her to frame Fluttershy, who becomes just a tiny bit nervous at finding the attention shifting to her. A cut to her perspective frames the expectant smiles of one Princess, one dressmaker, one daredevil, one farmer—and one party planner when she leans into view. Back to Fluttershy, whose wings and eyes pop wide open in surprise.)

Fluttershy: Oh! Me?

Rainbow: You’ve been saying how great this place is since we got here!

Fluttershy: Well, that’s because everypony’s so nice and their village is so pretty and—and…

(Her wistful smile gives way to a look of resignation—that faded yellow rump is firmly in the hot seat now—and she lets her head droop.)

Fluttershy: Oh, you’re right. (folding wings) They probably would believe me.  (Head up; zoom in slowly.) I hate to lie to them. They’ve been so welcoming and friendly—aside from locking us in here and trying to brainwash us into abandoning the things that make us special.  

(Now she gets it; her head comes up to let her look the others straight on, and she narrows her eyes in determination.)

Fluttershy: Okay. I’ll do it.

Pinkie: (jumping high) WOO-HOO!!

(Her mark flares at the peak of her leap, and she settles sedately back onto her hooves.)

Pinkie: I mean, cool.

Fluttershy: (crossing to Twilight) But…what do I do once I’m out?

Twilight: You’ve gotta find a way to get our cutie marks back.

(Fluttershy swallows hard, just before the loudspeaker cuts in with a crackle of static and a squeal of feedback to end the propaganda recording loop. The noise gives way to Starlight’s normal speech.)

Starlight: Oh, good morning!

(The door opens to admit the beaming village founder.)

Starlight: I trust you had a pleasant night? (turning to lead them out) This way, please. There are some friends who would like to see you.

(Fluttershy gets a round of encouraging smiles from the other five. Outside, a great many grinning ponies have gathered in the road and are awaiting the group’s emergence, with Double Diamond at their front.)

Starlight: (voice raised) Gather ’round, friends, gather ’round! (Close-up of some, then back to her as she continues at normal volume.) We’ve come to ask if any of you are ready to join us. There are so many friends to be made once you realize you don’t need your cutie marks— (leaning into Twilight’s face) —or the talents that come with them. (Cut to Double.)

Double: We have a welcome ceremony for new friends. The whole village joins together to build you your own cottage.

Rainbow: (from o.s.) Not interested! (General shock; cut to her, Applejack, and Pinkie.) You may have them now, but we’re going to get our cutie marks back!

Applejack: Y’all don’t understand, do you? You can’t force nopony to be friends. It don’t work like that.

Stallion: Please! Join us!

Mare: We love new friends!

Starlight: It’s all right, everypony. This is a perfectly normal part of the equalization process for those who haven’t…mmm, quite seen the light yet. We’ll try again tomorrow— (to the six) —once you’ve had a bit more time to consider our philosophy.

(Her slight nod is the cue for them to file back into their prison, bowed in by the ever-grinning guards; Twilight glares daggers back at Starlight with every step. Lagging well behind her and bringing up the rear is Fluttershy, who continues docilely toward the door until Twilight kicks her foreleg to remind her of the plot. She stops short.)

Fluttershy: I’d like to join!

(She claps her front hooves over her mouth, but her decision sets off a buzz of excited chatter among the locals.)

Twilight: (mock disbelief) Fluttershy? How could you?

Fluttershy: If giving up my cutie mark means I get to stay in this lovely village with these lovely ponies… (crossing to Starlight) …then I’ll do it.

(Twilight sends her nastiest look back at the two as she crosses the threshold; once she is in, Starlight magically closes the door.)

Starlight: We have a new friend, everypony!

(Villagers gather happily around Fluttershy for a moment, then back away at Starlight’s approach.)

Starlight: Now, there’s one more order of business. (dramatically, briefly touching Fluttershy’s shoulders) It seems some in our midst might be dissatisfied with the village life.

(Cut to the crowd; general concerned gasps and mutters break out.)

Starlight: (from o.s.) Unfortunately, it’s all too true, my friends.

(Cut to an uneasy Fluttershy during the previous, then zoom out to frame the greasily smiling unicorn addressing her.)

Starlight: Will you kindly tell us the names of those “friends” who so desperately miss their cutie marks that they would sneak around in the shadows—

(The smile vanishes on “friends” and she caresses Fluttershy’s chin in a gentle yet disquieting way. From here, cut to Night Glider, Party Favor, and Sugar Belle at the back of the crowd—all realizing that they could be in a whole heap of trouble for their subversive activities in Part One.)

Starlight: (from o.s.) —talking to strangers about it? (Back to her and Fluttershy; she smiles warmly again.) Just so we can be sure your intentions are indeed pure?

(On this last word, cut to a close-up of one very, very scared pegasus and zoom in slowly. She swallows hard before the view snaps to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to Fluttershy wilting slowly under Starlight’s impatient gaze. Zoom in slowly.)

Fluttershy: (hesitantly) Um…I don’t know who they were. (smiling) Um, I’m sorry.

(Cut to her perspective, panning across the onlookers.)

Fluttershy: I don’t know your names and faces yet. (Back to the pair.)

Starlight: (smiling, airily) Nonsense! Obviously these ponies must have asked you directly. (gesturing toward crowd) Kindly point them out!

(Cut to the slightly freaked out Night, Party, and Sugar and zoom in slowly on them through the crowd. The stallion is first to find some nerve; cut to Fluttershy, slowly backing down as Starlight’s eyes bore into her. She chews her bottom lip and grits her teeth, wishing mightily that she could teleport away like Twilight—and then Party’s voice smashes the silence.)

Party: (from o.s.) It was me!

(The entire crowd quickly backs off to one side or the other, leaving the trio to stand conspicuously alone.)

Party: It was only me! (He races up and kneels in front of Starlight.) I only wanted it back for a little while!

Starlight: (smiling smugly, lifting his chin) And you’re quite certain it was only you?

Party: I just wanted to remember what it was like.

Starlight: (hurt tone) And no thought to the pain you’d cause your friends. (That hits home; he slinks down o.s.) Such selfishness.

(A couple of bystanders add their disapproving glares to hers, and in too short a moment, he is upright and trudging toward the house in which Twilight and company are imprisoned. The stallion who was on guard, a unicorn, uses his magic to open the door as two other ponies usher Party through it.)

Party: I’m sorry, everypony! I never wanted to leave the village! (Cut to Fluttershy and Starlight on the end of this, then back to him.) I love all of—

(His entreaty is cut off by the door slamming in his face. Cut to Night and Sugar and zoom in slowly as their minds race through the prospects for the ordeal their friend is about to face.)

(Inside the house, Party rams the door headfirst, hard enough to get the end of his horn stuck in the wood.)

Party: What was I thinking? I can’t believe I even considered asking for my cutie mark back.

Rainbow: Don’t worry. Fluttershy will have us outta here in no time. (Party darts over to her, suddenly panicked.)

Party: Didn’t you see what just happened out there? Your friend has accepted our way! (Others back away.) You will all accept our way! It’s only a matter of time!

(Sheer brain-melting horror runs through his mind for a split second, after which he hangs his head and clumps over to lie down in a corner.)

Rainbow: (whispering, to others) This guy’s a barrel of laughs.

Pinkie: (matter-of-factly) Laughs don’t come in barrels. They come from inside you as your body’s response to delight.

(Four flabbergasted pairs of eyes turn her way at this unexpected deadpan delivery.)

Applejack: (hushed) So what are we gonna do while Fluttershy’s out there lookin’ for our… (even softer) …cutie marks?

Twilight: We have to stay as positive as we can. If Party Favor sees how much we really do like each other, even though we’re all different, maybe we can use him to spread our message to the rest of the village. (The loudspeaker crackles/whines to life.)

Starlight: (recorded, over loudspeaker) To excel is to fail. (Volume fades.) Be your best by never being your best.

Rarity: (hushed, over end of previous) Let’s just hope they don’t convert any of us first.

(Dissolve to a slow pan along a row of smiling, waving ponies on the road, three of whom call “Welcome” one by one, then cut to Fluttershy walking among them.)

Fluttershy: Gosh. You really are the nicest ponies I’ve ever met. (Pan to frame Starlight as she steps up.)

Starlight: Come. All new friends stay with me until their cottage is completed. (leading Fluttershy to her door, magically opening it) Let’s get you settled, and then you can enjoy all that our little village has to offer.

(On the end of this, cut to her perspective, the camera pointing back along the road and panning from one side to the other. Night and Sugar, walking past in the fore, slap on the most convincing grins they can scrape up and make eye contact with Fluttershy. The camera then shifts to a close-up of the pegasus, who glances dejectedly toward the ground and completely misses the suspicious look coming from Starlight. However, she too works up a smile and allows the unicorn to escort her into the house, this time not catching the squint-eyed smile that Starlight aims back toward the two dissenters. A shot of magic closes the door behind the two.)

(Dissolve to a head-on shot of the house at night. A puff of sooty smoke burps out of the chimney, accompanied by a grinding of stone on stone, and a very grimy Fluttershy pops out after it. One coughing fit and vigorous shake later, she has cleared her lungs and cleaned herself off.)

Fluttershy: (sighing) Get the cutie marks back. That’s all you’ve gotta do, Fluttershy. Just sneak through the dark— (huddling down, increasingly fearful) —to that spooky old cave, with the scary magical staff— (lifting off) —and get the cutie marks back.

(Dissolve to a profile close-up of her walking along, seen from the flanks up.)

Fluttershy: Okay. You’re doing great. The cave’s gotta be close now.

(She stops short and looks down toward her hooves; zoom out to frame all of her. She is still on the roof, having traveled only a few feet from the chimney.)

Starlight: (from o.s. below) Excellent work, Double Diamond. (Fluttershy peeks over the edge.)

Double: (from o.s. below) Of course.

(On the start of the next line, tilt down to ground level. Starlight stands at her open front door, addressing Double at the bottom of the steps. A crate filled with jars stands next to him.)

Double: But I don’t understand why you wanted me to bring them here. (Starlight levitates the crate and walks in with it; he follows.) Fluttershy is one of us now. Surely she can be trusted.

(Her field closes the door; cut to within. Fluttershy puts her head up outside at the windowsill as Starlight paces, floating the crate up. At this distance, the jars—six in all—can be seen to contain the Ponyville group’s cutie marks.)

Starlight: (levitating the jar with Twilight’s mark) This one belongs to a princess. It could be very important to our cause. (Close-up of the horrified yellow face, hunkering down.)

Double: (from o.s.) But if Twilight Sparkle becomes our friend— (Cut to him and Starlight; she sets the crate down.) —then what do we care about this old cutie mark?

Starlight: I just want to keep them close until everything is…settled. You may go, Double Diamond.

(He does so, leaving her to gaze fondly at her stolen prize. Outside, Fluttershy takes cover behind the corner of the house just before he lets himself out, the door swinging shut behind him. She peeks after the departing stallion, then returns to her vantage point at the window and sees Starlight walk past, now floating all the jars from the crate.)

Fluttershy: Oh, dear. How am I ever gonna get the cutie marks back now?

(Cut to just inside the window; the blue-green irises, shrunken with agitation, flick back and forth in time for a loud crash.)

Starlight: (from o.s.) Ow!

(Outside again; Fluttershy flies up toward the roof. Inside, at another window: she looks in and sees a wooden tub roll across the floor, shedding droplets of water as it comes to a stop beneath the sill. The camera returns to her side, giving a clear view of a suddenly sodden Starlight in her own bedroom with the jars floating nearby—she evidently dumped the water over herself.)

Starlight: (slightly muffled by glass) Ugh! Starlight, you clumsy fool!

(Inside again: the jars are placed on a dresser and a nearby towel is levitated over so she can dry herself. Once she moves it away, the equals sign is seen to be gone from her haunch; in its place is a four-pointed violet star overlaid on a white one, trailing wisps of swirling, two-tone blue-green light. Zoom in to a close-up of this—her real cutie mark—then cut to just inside the window as Fluttershy stares in total shock, eyes bugging out and jaw falling wide open.)

(Inside the bedroom, Starlight quickly puts her magic to work, applying makeup to match her coat color and cover the star, then using a stencil and brush to re-apply the fake mark. Fluttershy pulls in a soft gasp, drawing Starlight’s attention instantly to the window and making her drop the tools, but she plunges out of sight with a fragment of a fraction of a second to spare. Cut to just outside the window; Starlight glares through the panes but finds nothing, then steps out of view and turns off the bedroom light. A tilt down brings the covert operative into view—in an upside-down spreadeagle position, hanging for dear life on the underside of a ledge that runs beneath the window. She drops into a hover and rights herself.)

Fluttershy: Oh, no!

(She flies off. Dissolve to a long shot of the village, now seen during the following morning, and cut to the crowd gathered outside her friends’ prison as they are escorted out. As with the previous morning, Starlight is waiting for them; now, though, Fluttershy stands alongside.)

Starlight: (to crowd) I’ve got a good feeling about today! (to the quintet) So, do any of you have… (Cut to a pan along the dispirited mares; she continues o.s.) …anything you’d like to say?

(Silence reigns for several beats.)

Starlight: Aw, a pity. Well, let’s try this again tomorrow, shall we?

(Back into the house they go.)

Starlight: (to the crowd) No new friends today, I’m afraid!

(Fluttershy’s smile turns into a grimace; she speaks up after a moment.)

Fluttershy: Wait! I’d like to lock them in. (Puzzled reaction from Starlight, shifting to a smile; Fluttershy grins.)

Starlight: Marvelous, Fluttershy! (Fluttershy steps ahead.) That’s the spirit! (all business) Party Favor, will you join us, please?

(Said stallion gallops out at full speed as Fluttershy herds the last of her friends toward the door; he throws himself to the ground, hugging Starlight’s foreleg.)

Party: I’m sorry, Starlight! I’m sorry, everypony! I’ve seen the error of my ways! I never want to look at my cutie mark again! (Cut to Starlight.)

Starlight: (smiling) It seems there’s cause for celebration after all! (Cheers from the gathered spectators.)

Party: (from o.s.) They tried to break me! (Cut to him.) They wouldn’t stop talking about how different they are, and that somehow makes their friendship stronger.

Starlight: Such backwards thinking.

(He stands up, now displaying the kind of crazed grin and disjointed eyes that would have given Pinkie a run for her money during her mental breakdown in “Party of One.”)

Party: But I didn’t listen! (Snap back to normal.) I knew what they were up to, and I didn’t listen! (Here it comes again; she touches his chest.)

Starlight: Well done, Party Favor! We welcome you back with open hooves.

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Um, Starlight?

(Cut to her, standing next to the still-open door with an apologetic little grin.)

Fluttershy: I think we might have one more friend joining us today.

(Out steps a cowed Twilight, prompting a round of gasps from the o.s. crowd. Across the way, Starlight pushes Party aside and aims a slightly incredulous eye toward the pair.)

Starlight: Is this true?

Twilight: I…I think so. But I just want to be sure. (crossing to Starlight) If I agree to leave my cutie mark in the vault, I’ll really be happier?

Starlight: (cheerfully) Just look around. Equality has given us more happiness than you’ve ever known.

Twilight: (spreading wings, eyeing new mark) And you wouldn’t let me just live here in the village with my old cutie mark? (Cut to Starlight.)

Starlight: Out of the question! A pony with a different cutie mark in our midst would destroy our entire philosophy! (smiling, indicating crowd) We are all equal here. (Zoom out slightly; murmurs of assent among them.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Then how do you explain… (Cut to her, hovering overhead with a bucket of water.) …this?!?

(She hurls the contents downward, straight toward Starlight, but a timely sidestep saves the unicorn from her second thorough dousing in twenty-four hours. A drop lands on her back and begins to trickle down toward her haunch, though. Any shred of good humor evaporates as she glares up at Fluttershy with the purest hostility.)

Starlight: I knew you couldn’t be trusted!

(Party’s eyes suddenly go very wide, aimed in Starlight’s general direction, and a close-up of her haunch tells the tale. As the drop descends, it dissolves some of the makeup she has applied and partially exposes her real mark. He quickly steps up, his ragged cloak now held in his teeth, and rubs it over the spot to fully reveal the deception.)

Starlight: No! Get away!

(Party drops the cloak, giving the crowd a full view; they gasp in shock and disbelief, and Starlight grimaces and covers her haunch with her tail.)

Starlight: Wh…what are you looking at? (pointing toward Twilight and company) They’re the problem, not me!

(Fluttershy lands next to them, Twilight standing ahead of the group; confident smiles have taken hold on all six faces.)

Party: (to Starlight, mind blown) How could you?

Double: (stepping up) You said cutie marks were evil! You said special talents led to pain and heartache!

Starlight: They do! Don’t you see? Look at them!

Sugar: (from o.s.) Then why? (She steps up.) Why did you take ours and not give up your own?

Starlight: I… (suddenly angry) …I had to, you fools! How could I collect your cutie marks without my magic?

Night: But…the Staff has all the magic we need! (Starlight leans into her face.)

Starlight: The Staff is a piece of wood I found in the desert! It’s my magic that makes all this possible. You’d all still be living your miserable lives, thinking you’re better than everypony else, if it weren’t for my magical abilities! (turning from one pony to another) I brought you friendship! I brought you equality! I created harmony!

Double: You lied to us!

Starlight: So what? (smiling nervously) E-Everything else I said is true. (pacing a bit) The only way to be happy is if we’re all equal!

Double: Except for you!

(In close-up, she pivots toward him, horn flaring and a grimace of purest fury on her face. On the start of the next line, pan slightly to frame Twilight approaching from behind; the spell dies down and rancor turns into surprise.)

Twilight: Everypony has unique talents and gifts. (Grimace again.) And when we share them with each other, that’s how we—

Starlight: QUIET!!

(None of the six can believe their ears that an adversary has told this Princess to stuff it—least of all the Princess in question.)

Sugar: (from o.s.) You can’t have that cutie mark, Starlight! (Cut to her, addressing Starlight.) Either we’re all equal, or none of us are!

(Hacked-off ponies step closer from one angle after another, each pair of eyes telling exactly what they would like to do to their leader/oppressor. Starlight backs up ever so slightly, only to find that she is about to run into the six mares who triggered the whole collapse of her utopia. As more of the locals move in to cut off her escape route, she fires up her horn and creates a hemispherical force field, expanding it suddenly to shove them all back. As soon as the barrier collapses, she gallops off to take refuge in her house, slamming the door behind herself.)

Double: (rearing up, galloping after her) Come on! Let’s get our cutie marks back!

(There follows a yelling stampede straight past that solitary structure and toward the mountains. Rainbow flies overhead and stops to beckon her friends on.)

Rainbow: Come on! Let’s go get our cutie marks! (She tenses to zoom out…)

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Our cutie marks aren’t in the vault!

(…but stops dead at these words. The rest of the group has stayed put on the road.)

Fluttershy: (pointing ahead) They’re in there…

(Long shot of Starlight’s house, zooming in quickly.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) …with her!

(Snap to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to the vault, now steadily filling with ponies eager to reclaim their special talents. Hoof after hoof pounds against the glass covering with no visible effect, but all cease their efforts when the next voice cuts in.)

Double: (from o.s., distant) STAND BACK, EVERYPONY!

(They clear out at the sound of his rapidly approaching hooves; here he comes with the Staff clamped in his teeth. He flings it ahead, so that it spins end over end in its flight, and the tuning-fork tines connect with enough force to start cracks at the point of impact. These quickly spread to cover the entire surface, and the whole sheet disintegrates in a blinding flash. Motes of multicolored light erupt in all directions like a fireworks display gone haywire, and one of them strikes the equals sign on Double’s haunch, instantly replacing it with three blue snowflakes. He is lifted off the ground in a magic field, becoming a black silhouette as the background fades to white behind him, and he too fades away in turn. The process reverses itself to leave him fully visible again, with two noticeable changes. One: his mane/tail are no longer neat and short, but tousled and grown out somewhat. Two, there is a genuine, unforced smile on his face.)

(He settles to the ground amid a maelstrom of rocketing cutie marks, three of which hit Night, Party, and Sugar in turn. Each one winds up with a more brightly colored coat and mane/tail, the latter growing out and reverting to their original style. Night: deep blue coat; swept-back  mane/tail in white and two shades of light blue; cutie mark of a crescent moon framed by two feathers bent into hemispherical arcs. Party: light blue coat; curly, bright blue mane/tail with lighter blue streaks; cutie mark of a balloon animal overlaid on party streamers. Sugar: light pink coat, curly purple mane/tail loosely held with beaded ties, cutie mark not immediately visible due to the camera angle. The transformation strips off her dingy apron.)

(Cut to outside the cave as more cutie marks come zooming out and the villagers charge/fly out after them, then pan to an overhead shot of the village. At ground level, an enraptured Rarity watches the display.)

Rarity: Even without my cutie mark, I can tell this is beautiful!

(Zoom out during this line to frame Twilight gazing as well, while Applejack, Pinkie, and Rainbow have the front door and windows of Starlight’s house staked out and Fluttershy stands off to one side. Inside, the deposed leader disgustedly watches at the bedroom window as more of the villagers recover their marks.)

Starlight: They think they can come to my village and disrupt my life? (She turns away to her six prize jars.) Let’s see how they like spending the rest of their lives without their precious cutie marks.

(On this last sentence, she gets her horn going and the camera cuts to her bed, which is slung aside to reveal an open floor hatch beneath it, then to just inside this, framing her at the edge. She gallops down an attached stairway, jars in tow. Outside, Applejack bucks the front door and achieves exactly as much success as in her earlier attempt to smash her way out of the brainwashing house—that is to say, none at all. Rarity adds her front hooves to the effort, also with no result, and Twilight joins Pinkie and Rainbow at the windows; only Fluttershy takes no part in the surveillance or breaching attempt. A loud whistle brings them all up short; pan quickly to one side and stop on its source—Double, Night, Party, and Sugar standing proudly on an overlooking ridge. Sugar’s cutie mark can now be seen as a cupcake topped with a cherry. Night lifts off.)

Night: Stand back, everypony!

(She cuts a wide arc down toward the house, the six scattering in all directions as she homes in on the front door. Inside, the pegasus’ impact smashes it off the hinges and throws it to the middle of the floor; she ends up standing on top of it as her friends, old and new, charge in around her. There follows a swift search of the room; cut to just inside the closed bedroom door as Fluttershy pushes it open and looks around.)

Fluttershy: They’re gone! (pointing) They were right over there!

(On the end of this, cut to her perspective of the dresser on which Starlight had kept the jarred marks. Pan across the room to the overturned bed and exposed floor hatch, then cut to just inside, the camera pointing up the stairs at the ten as they start down into the shadows.)

(Cut to outside, a short distance from the house, and pan away from the village to a cave. The team pours out of it—the other end of the secret passage Starlight used to get out of town.)

Rainbow: (pointing) Look!

(Ahead of them is a narrow trail that snakes along a treacherously high ridge toward a range of snow-capped mountain peaks. Starlight is visible only as a speck going like sixty toward these. As Pinkie shades her eyes with a hoof and squints ahead, Party gets an idea and glances back at his cutie mark with a smile. To the great surprise of the faded goofball, he produces a balloon, blows it up, and nimbly ties it into the shape of a pair of binoculars—somehow managing to incorporate a couple of extra colors into it for good measure. Party raises the instrument to his eyes, and the camera cuts to his magnified perspective: Starlight galloping full tilt and pulling a cart that carries the six unreleased marks. The image is tinted yellow due to the main color of the balloon he has used.)

Party: She’s headed for the pass! (Pan quickly to the mountains and re-focus.) If she makes it into those mountains— (Back to him and Pinkie; he lowers the binocs.) —we’ll never find her!

(Now Pinkie takes them for a look; the “lens” ends retract and extend a bit as she speaks.)

Pinkie: These are amazing!

Sugar: There’s a whole network of caves up there! Your cutie marks will be gone forever!

Applejack: Then let’s get movin’, y’all!

(They do so. Rainbow has her wings going in maximum overdrive, but is very much put out to find herself being outpaced—first by Night in the air; then by Double/Party/Sugar at a gallop, and finally by the rest of her friends at a more sedate trot.)

Rainbow: Oh, come on!

(Cut to Starlight going flat out; Night begins to close the gap.)

Starlight: Are you all so willing to give up everything because of these strangers?

(A shot from her horn dislodges a clump of accumulated snow, dumping it onto Night and knocking her out of the air. She puts her head up from the resulting pile, aims a venomous glare after the unicorn, and shakes her mane clean.)

Sugar: (galloping past) We gave up everything for you, because we thought you were our friend!

(Extreme close-up of a patch of snow on the trail. Twilight’s and then Fluttershy’s hooves crunch down through it; cut to frame the Ponyville bunch lagging well behind—with Rainbow still bringing up the rear.)

Rainbow: I can’t believe we have to count on these other ponies to save our cutie marks!

Twilight: If we hadn’t come here to help them, they’d still be living under her rules! (smiling) Now it’s their turn to help us!

Fluttershy: And I know they can do it.

(The fugitive starts across a natural bridge, looks back, and finds Double/Party/Sugar hot on her trail. Now it is Sugar’s turn to take inspiration from her cutie mark; a bit of telekinesis lifts a chunk of snow from a nearby drift and shapes it into a pie.)

Sugar: My newest recipe… (letting fly) …snow pie!

(The camera shifts to follow its arcing trajectory toward Starlight, then cuts to a profile view just before impact. That hit breaks the cart’s harness struts, dumping her into a head-over-heels tumble and sending the jars flying over the side. She desperately starts a spell as they plummet toward the rocks far below, managing to envelop and stop them with only inches to go. Having now shed the remains of the harness, she floats the jars back up, gets clear of the bridge, and stops to fire a beam into it. Most of the stone span’s length explodes into gravel and dust.)

(Double, Party, and Sugar skid to a stop at the edge of the gap; in close-up, the first and third of these find themselves at a loss as to how to continue the chase. The sound of a balloon being blown up catches them by surprise, and a cut to Party shows him ready to get to work with the one he is now holding. His front hooves disappear into a blur of deft manipulation, and within moments a multicolored bridge begins to grow. As it extends, Night swoops in to guide the free end across and secure it to the rock stub at the opposite side. Once it is in place, she flies ahead and the other three hop, Pinkie-style, across this marvel of rubber-based civil engineering. The Ponyville bunch watches from a higher ledge.)

Rainbow: She’s gonna get away!

(Now having traversed the bridge, Double slides to a stop as Party and Sugar continue on. The camera angle frames two long, flat items protruding into view, their ends cut off by the top/bottom edges of the screen, and he regards these with disbelief in a zoom out. Said items are skis, each with bindings to hold two hooves in place, their rear ends stuck in the snow; a helmet with goggles rests nearby.)

Double: Whoa. (walking to them.) These are my old skis! (He runs a hoof over one.) This is where I first met Starlight.

(On the start of the next line, zoom out to frame Night hovering above him nearby.)

Night: Maybe you can reminisce another time. She’s almost to the caves! (He grabs hold of that ski, a new fire in his voice.)

Double: Feel like an air drop?

(Starlight pounds on toward a cave, but gets a mighty surprise upon catching sight of her enforcer sailing past her—wearing the skis/helmet/goggles and a scarf, and being carried upward by Night. She drops him onto a snowy slope and peels out; he cuts a path parallel to Starlight’s, sending a wall of the frozen white stuff straight toward her. The fleeing unicorn has just enough time to warm up her horn before the screen fades to black.)

(Fade in to just outside the cave entrance, now almost completely blocked by the avalanche Double set off. Starlight is nowhere to be seen, but the six precious jars are floating here, still held in her magic. It fizzles out as Party and Sugar gallop to the site, and the jars fall to the ground and shatter; Twilight is first to get her mark back, fading to a silhouette, then white, then the process reversing as with Double’s restoration. Once the view clears, she is grinning from ear to ear, her coloration and wings behaving themselves properly. Her five friends recover theirs in quick succession.)

Applejack: (rearing up) Yee-haa! (bucking the air) Finally I can buck like a five-bit snake herder in an Appleloosa ranch house again!

Fluttershy: Oh, and you got your country-isms back too!

(Twilight leads the bunch in a gallop toward the cave. Night has joined Party and Sugar at the entrance, and Double skis to a stop here as well. They turn their attention toward the snowdrifts as Starlight’s forelegs break through to daylight; up comes her scowling face, prompting the four to recoil out of fear. She extricates herself, kindles a blinding spot of light at the end of her horn, and lets it rip toward the traitors—only for Twilight to land in front of them and throw up a defensive shield. It takes the form of a quarter-sphere, allowing Starlight’s power to wash over the surface and stream off the trailing edge. Finally she lets the beam dissipate and Twilight drops the shield, revealing not even a hair out of place on herself or the others. She is, however, good and sore. Cut to Starlight.)

Starlight: Wha—? I studied that spell for years! How can you— (Cut to Twilight and the four on the start of the next line; she crosses toward Starlight.)

Twilight: I studied magic for years too. But what I didn’t know then was that studying could only take me so far. (gesturing behind herself) Each of my friends has taught me something different about myself.

(Cut to all nine of those friends, gathering on the path, at the start of this last sentence, then back to her for the next line.)

Twilight: It was their unique gifts and passions and personalities that helped bring out the magic inside of me. (Cut to a slow pan across them; she continues o.s.) I never would have learned that I represent the Element of Magic without these five. (Back to her and Starlight.) And I certainly wouldn’t be here to stop you now! (Starlight rolls her eyes.)

Starlight: Spare me your sentimental nonsense! I gave these ponies real friendships they never could have had otherwise!

Double: (from o.s.) How do you know that? (Cut to him, removing his helmet/goggles and tossing them aside.) You never even gave us a chance!

(That does it. Her features contorting into a look of the clearest hate and fury and contempt, Starlight squinches her eyes shut and kick-starts her horn. All ten avert their eyes as a sphere of energy radiates outward from her position, culminating in a brilliant flash of white. When the view clears, the snow is gone from the cave entrance and there is no trace of Starlight except for a curl of smoke rising from the newly bare patch of ground. Cut to just inside, the camera pointing out at the group; a string of snowy prints and the fading sound of her racing hooves give away Starlight’s ploy. Her spell was meant to clear the way and distract them long enough for her to bug out.)

Rainbow: She’s getting away!

Double: We’ll never find her in there! (Outside again.)

Twilight: We just have to hope that when she’s had a chance to think it over, she realizes that you all have taught her something.

Party: It’s you who have taught us something. We all came to this village because we were searching for something missing from our lives. We thought Starlight had given it to us. (Cut to Double/Night/Sugar; he continues o.s.) But now… (crossing to them) …now it seems it was in front of us all along. It’s us. (Four-way group hug.)

Twilight: Does that mean you’ll stay in the village?

Night: It’s our home. I’m not going anywhere.

Double: This is a chance for all of us to get to know each other again, for the very first time.

Sugar: And I finally have a chance to bake something besides terrible muffins!

(All ten share a laugh as the camera tilts up to frame the sun in the clear sky.)

(Dissolve to an overhead shot of the village. The houses are strung with banners, strings of pennants run from one side of the road to the other, and celebrating ponies are all over the place. Twilight and her five longtime friends regard the shindig from the end opposite Starlight’s house. Cuts/pans around the block party pick out Night talking with a stallion, Party tossing a beach ball, a mare floating a cupcake off Sugar’s table of delectable baked goods, and Double—having shed his skis and scarf—chatting with a couple of mares before Party’s ball bounces off his head. Zoom in from him to frame the Ponyville six looking on contentedly.)

Pinkie: Now those are real smiles.

(Close-up of Applejack’s face, which goes slack with sudden shock. A tingle of magic is heard, and the camera tilts down slightly to follow her gaze and frame her cutie mark. Just as in the beginning of Part One, Act One, it is flaring quietly, as is that of Pinkie next to her.)

Applejack: I’ll never get used to that. (Ditto for Rarity.)

Rarity: I think it’s divine. (Cut to Fluttershy and Twilight; each glancing briefly at her own flaring mark.)

Fluttershy: Does that mean the map is calling us somewhere else? (The effect stops.)

Twilight: I have a feeling it means our work here is done.

Applejack: (from o.s.) Looks like you were right, Twilight. (Cut to her.) The map did have a reason for sendin’ us here. (Pinkie nods.) We brought real friendship to these here ponies. (winking) Guess that’s why you’re the Princess of Friendship. (Close-up of Twilight.)

Twilight: But the map didn’t send me. (Zoom out to frame all six.) It sent us. You’re a part of me, all of you. And there’s no doubt you’re a part of my mission to spread friendship too.

(A six-way group hug, with various happy squeals and laughs. A look of concern snaps onto Pinkie’s face, breaking the mood.)

Pinkie: This feels like an ending. (She sits up to her haunches.) It doesn’t have to be an ending yet, right? (smiling hopefully) ’Cause that Sugar Belle can baaake!

Twilight: Maybe we can stay a little while longer. (trotting ahead) Come on!

(The whole crew heads into the heart of the festival. Cut to an overhead shot of the village, zooming out slowly, and fade to black.)

(The usual closing theme does not accompany the credits. In its place is a lush orchestral piece with strings, French horn, and light percussion: brisk 4, triplet feel. The melody starts in E major and works its way through several keys to end up on a final chord in G major.)


CASTLE SWEET CASTLE

Written by Joanna Lewis, Kristine Songco

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by Meghan McCarthy

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Co-directed by Jim Miller

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of an upside-down wooden bucket resting on the ground. A very dirty animal is levitated over to stand on this, and a soapy scrub brush floats in to give it a thorough cleaning, which it greatly enjoys. Zoom out to show Twilight Sparkle in charge of this grooming session, set up in the backyard of Fluttershy’s cottage. A few other grungy critters are waiting their turn, and she is thoroughly splattered with muck from her work so far. The sky above the canopy of the nearby Everfree Forest shows late afternoon.)

(Elsewhere in the yard, Fluttershy is dealing with a group of her own, focusing for the moment on steadying a garden hose with her mouth to fill a washtub that contains a goat and a great mass of soap suds. She too is a mess from one end to the other. Tossing the hose aside, she nips up a washcloth to start cleaning the quadruped. A bear gets its teeth brushed under the guidance of Twilight’s magic, giving a happy smile and grunt when the job is done. Next the two mares pull on opposite ends of a towel to polish the hide of a freshly scrubbed pig.)

(A cloud of soap bubbles floats up past the screen; behind its lower edge, the view wipes to a close-up of them, straightening up.)

Fluttershy: (wiping forehead) Phew! Thanks for helping me get them so fresh and clean, Twilight.

Twilight: No problem. Happy to do it.

Fluttershy: You probably can’t wait to get back to your castle and take your own bath, huh?

(Close-up of the light violet face on the end of this, the purple eyes popping wide open in a flick of unease. The mouth beneath them rapidly shifts to its best attempt at a casual smile.)

Twilight: Aren’t there more animals that need cleaning? (Big dopey grin.)

Fluttershy: I think you and I are the only ones left— (stroking her mane) —and I can’t wait to get the mud out of my mane.

(Looking frantically about herself, Twilight spots Fluttershy’s rabbit Angel at the edge of a mud puddle and bunts him into it with a hind leg .Once he gets his face out of the gunk, he aims a furious beady-eyed glare up at her.)

Twilight: Oh, no! Angel got dirty! I’d better stay longer to help give him a bath too!

(As the yellow pegasus looks on with clear concern, her friend trots away and levitates the white fuzzball into the washtub. The scrub brush is brought into play as his little bunny brain ponders the most effective way to avenge this indignity. Fade to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of Fluttershy’s cottage, seen from the front, and zoom in slowly.)

Fluttershy: (voice over) Thank you ever so much for staying to give Angel a bath too. (Cut to her inside, now cleaned up; zoom out slowly.) But, um…

(The motion frames a still-filthy Twilight, hunching intently over something covered with a towel under her control.)

Fluttershy: …I think he’s dry.

(The violet winged unicorn stands up, caught off guard, and pulls the towel away. Underneath it is Angel, sparkling clean and very much out of sorts—and his mood does not improve when the white fur fluffs out wildly in every direction.)

Fluttershy: Goodness, it’s gotten late! (Twilight lets the towel drop.) You really didn’t have to stay all day—not that we don’t appreciate it. (to Angel) Isn’t that right?

(His only response is a grumbling glower. Now Twilight maneuvers a feather duster up to clean off a couple of birdhouses and a chair.)

Fluttershy: (pointedly) I, for one, am exhausted. (Yawn.) Plus, I really need to rest up for that big pancake breakfast tomorrow.

(Twilight manages to completely miss this hint and continues dusting.)

Fluttershy: And I’m sure you have to get the castle ready.

(During this line, cut to the resident of said castle, who finally snaps out of housecleaning mode and turns to Fluttershy with panic writ large on her face.)

Twilight: No! The castle’s…fine. (forcing a smile) But maybe I’d better see if Pinkie Pie needs help with the pancakes.

(Cut to just outside the front door, now open. The besmirched Princess flies out; Fluttershy steps to the door to gaze after her, followed by Angel. Animal caretaker and over-dried rabbit trade a concerned glance, and the latter hops back into the house and slams the door. Fluttershy turns to go inside and is surprised to find herself shut out.)

Fluttershy: (knocking) Um, Angel?

(Dissolve to a long shot of Twilight’s castle and zoom in slowly to the sound of enthusiastic gobbling. It is now sunrise of the following day. From here, cut to a slow pan across a round gold table loaded with plates of pancakes sporting a surfeit of various toppings. Each of Twilight’s five friends is seated here—a dining room—on low chairs and getting her eat on, Rarity daintily levitating a fork to dig into her own breakfast. Pinkie Pie, on the other hand, simply plunges her face into her stack of flapjacks. The pan stops on Applejack, who swallows her mouthful and licks her chops.)

Applejack: Mmm…these are dee-licious, Pinkie Pie.

(The baking expert comes up with whipped cream and berries slathered over every square inch of her face. One 360-degree lick gathers all the sweet stuff into a single huge wad, which she cheerfully gulps down before speaking.)

Pinkie: Thanks. Twilight spent all night helping me pick the flavor. (reaching o.s., pulling a stack of pancakes into view) I kept thinking we’d found the right one— (plunking them onto her plate) —but she insisted I make even more to try… (retrieving/stacking more cakes) …and more…

(Close-up of the rapidly growing stack. On each of the first three “more”’s in the next line, she reaches up to add another pile of cakes.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) …and more, and more, and more, and more. (She leans into view behind the now-massive tower.) It was like she never wanted to—

Fluttershy: —leave?

Pinkie: Exactly! (She takes a bite from the side of the pile.) Eventually we ran out of time, so we just went with Every-Berry-Any-Chip Surprise.

(Now she whisks over to Rarity.)

Pinkie: (whispering loudly) The surprise is, I lost a measuring spoon in the batter! (normal volume, singsong) Somepony’s gonna get a very special pancake!

(She zips back to her seat. Suddenly very concerned for the state of her own teeth and digestive system, the fastidious white unicorn carefully plies her magic to pry up the top half of her stack and peek beneath.)

Rainbow Dash: (from o.s.) Up all night, huh? (Cut to her.) Is that why she’s so…uh…out of it?

(A cut to Twilight reveals that, for once, the flying ace might be understating the situation. She now looks a bedraggled, muddy, scuffed-up wreck and is asleep where she sits, snoring loudly over her plate.)

Fluttershy: Um, I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, but has anypony else noticed that Twilight’s been a little too helpful lately?

Applejack: Now that you mention it, she was lendin’ a hoof at Sweet Apple Acres the other day—

(Dissolve to a pan across a tract of orchard land, peppered with dozens of freshly dug holes.)

Applejack: (voice over) —and stuck around ’til near midnight.

(She comes into view in the fore, as does a shovel in Twilight’s telekinetic grip, pitching dirt up from within one of the holes. Slung on Applejack’s back is a set of baskets loaded with tree seedlings.)

Applejack: (voice over) Dug up fifty tree-plantin’ holes when all I needed was ten.

(Now Twilight puts her head up, showing a spot of dirt between her eyes, and grins placatingly; Applejack returns a humoring but uneasy one. On the beginning of the next line, dissolve to a close-up of Twilight in Rarity’s workspace/living quarters on the upper story of the Carousel Boutique. She has a jeweler’s loupe screwed into one eye and is scrutinizing two gems floating around her head.)

Rarity: (voice over) She spent an entire afternoon rearranging a single gem drawer at the boutique.

(Satisfied, the violet mare magically removes the loupe and sends the stones down to rest in a cushioned drawer. They are identical to each other and to the ten already resting within.)

Rarity: (voice over) An entire afternoon!

Rainbow: (voice over) You think that’s weird?

(Dissolve to the speedster flying among the clouds to break through a tape strung between two pillars. During the next line, Twilight flaps in well after her.)

Rainbow: (voice over) She raced me, like, a hundred times the other day— (Rainbow breaks another tape, Twilight lagging again.) —and lost every time! (The daredevil zooms off…) She just kept going! (…chased by a now-exhausted Twilight…) Best out of ten. Best out of twenty. Best out of a hundred! (…who drops o.s., sending up wisps of cloud.) I mean…

(Dissolve back to her and Fluttershy at the breakfast table.)

Rainbow: …I know hanging out with me is awesome, but it was like she’d rather keep losing than—

Fluttershy: —leave?

Rainbow: Yeah. Who does that?

(Both look in Twilight’s general direction; cut to her. The wiped-out sovereign’s head tumbles forward to plant itself in her pancakes face first, scattering whipped cream and toppings all over the table. She cuddles the stack in her forelegs like a pillow and goes right on snoring. Over on Applejack/Pinkie’s side of the table, the pink nut smacks the edge of her plate, launching her meal toward the ceiling, as the blond mare speaks.)

Applejack: Somepony who’s avoidin’ somethin’, that’s who. Soon as she wakes up— (Pinkie lets the cakes fall into her mouth and swallows them.) —we’re gonna find out what.

(The blue eyes pop with instant discomfort, which is relieved when Pinkie spits out a spoon that can only be the one she admitted to losing. It hurtles across the table, nails Fluttershy dead square in the forehead, and falls to stick in her food, handle down. She stares at this unorthodox culinary tweak with great trepidation, as do Applejack and Rarity.)

Pinkie: I win!

(Twilight wakes up with a start, a pancake impaled on her horn and covering most of her face.)

Twilight: I’m pancake! (moving it aside) I mean, awake. (Sheepish grin.)

Applejack: Uh, Twilight? Is there somethin’ you want to tell us?

(Twilight magically lifts the edge clear of her eyes as Rarity crosses to her, then floats the whole thing free during the next line.)

Rarity: You know how much we appreciate all you do for us.

(Pinkie leaps up from beneath the table, snaps her teeth onto the pancake, and is gone just as quickly.)

Rarity: And we simply adore having you around, but…we worry you might be… (Clear throat.) …avoiding something else?

Twilight: (moaning sadly) Has it been that obvious?

(Fluttershy and Rainbow trade a concerned look, Applejack nods bluntly, Pinkie keeps eating her stolen treat, and Rarity glances away with a cringe.)

Twilight: I’ve been…the thing is…I-I know it’s silly, but I…I’ve been avoiding… (Zoom out to frame the entire room, her voice echoing slightly in the space.) …this place.

(It is indeed expansive, with the same green tree-patterned windows, tiny multicolored lights, and crystal columns seen in other parts of the castle. Back to Twilight/Fluttershy/Rarity; the unicorn gasps in shock.)

Rarity: Why in Equestria would you want to avoid such a gorgeous castle? (Pinkie pops up between her and Twilight.)

Pinkie: Yeah! This place has everything! (She zips away and bounds through another room.) Big tall ceilings that make you feel tiny!

(Close-up of a patch of glossy violet floor, her reflection popping into view here, then zoom out to frame her on the start of the next line.)

Pinkie: (running hooves/cheek over surface) Shiny new floors that are cold to the touch! (She lies down and huddles up, shivering.) Brrr!

(Off she goes, bursting through a set of closed double doors.)

Pinkie: And it even has loooooong empty hallways!

(On “loooooong,” the camera zooms out to frame a stretch of the one in which she has arrived and her voice echoes time and again in the stillness. As the reverberations gradually die away, the camera cuts to a bench up against one wall, then to a hanging tapestry that ripples in a chance breeze. Pinkie then whips back to Twilight’s side in the dining room.)

Pinkie: (glumly) Okay, I get it.

Twilight: The castle is amazing, but it just… (Sigh.) …it doesn’t feel like home.

Rarity: (chuckling) Oh, is that all? Why, you simply need to decorate, darling—make this space your own.

Twilight: It’s just so daunting. Look how big it is! I-I don’t even know where to start!

(She plants her face on the table again, but this time Rarity’s aura slides her plate away first.)

Rarity: You can start by letting us do it for you. (Twilight lifts her head; Rarity crosses to her.) We will make this the castle of your dreams, while you go to the Ponyville Spa for some much-needed rest and relaxation. (Close-up.) I’m saying this with love— (Horn warms up.) —but…

(As she continues, she floats up a hand mirror, blocking herself from view and presenting a clear reflection of Twilight’s disheveled, dismal state.)

Rarity: …have you looked in a mirror lately? (Twilight’s eyes pop; Rarity peeks out from behind.) I’ve never seen you look this…mmm… (Fluttershy’s reflection appears in the glass.)

Fluttershy: …frazzled?

(Cut to frame all three and Pinkie.)

Rarity: (sending mirror away) Yes! That is absolutely the word I was going to use.

Twilight: (smiling) Oh, I guess I do need a little help—and so does my castle. And I just know you’ll do a great job because nopony knows me better than you.

Applejack: (crossing to Pinkie) We’ll make this place feel cozier than hot cider on a rainy day.

(Rainbow, bored, snaps to full attention with a little yelp and pops out of her seat.)

Rainbow: (eagerly) There’s gonna be cider?!? (Dirty look from Applejack; she calms down, rising a bit higher.) Uh, I mean, let’s decorate!

Spike: (from o.s.) Aw, no!

(Cut to him at the open doors leading in from the corridor. A blanket is over one arm, a stuffed Rarity doll under the other.)

Spike: Did I miss the pancakes? (Tossing the doll aside, he runs in and climbs onto the table.) I sleep like a baby under that cold, cavernous ceiling.

(In a possible breach of mealtime etiquette, he tosses the blanket aside, takes a couple of pancakes from Twilight’s plate, and sits down to eat.)

Rarity: Spike! I’m so glad you’re here. (He stops just short of taking the first bite.)

Spike: Really?

Rarity: Yes! You’re taking Twilight to the spa.

Spike: Great! (eyeing one hand) I’ve been meaning to get my claws done.

(Chomp; zoom out to frame all six mares looking expectantly straight at him. It takes a second for him to get the message.)

Spike: (mouth full) Oh! You mean now.

(Stuffing the rest of his two commandeered cakes into his mouth, he turns to an abandoned plate and proceeds to start scarfing down its load as well. Cut to just outside the doors; he steps out into the corridor, a pancake clutched in each hand and Twilight following right behind. As they make their exit, the camera cuts back to the other five.)

Applejack: Come on, y’all! We’ve got work to do!

Acoustic guitar/mandolin/string/bass melody with light percussion, lively 4 (E flat major)

Strings out at start of first verse

(Cut to the upper reaches of the corridor and tilt down to floor level; the doors swing open and they step out. Each runs her eye over a different bit of the architecture.)

Rainbow:                Let’s all work together

                        To make this castle shine

Strings in

(Rarity levitates a cloth and polishes a patch of crystal wall.)

Rarity:                Once we add some sparkle

Full drums in

(Their reflections appear in five separate facets: Rarity/Fluttershy/Applejack one by one, Pinkie/Rainbow together.)

Rarity:                It’ll feel, it’ll feel, it’ll feel

All five:                It’ll feel divine

Glockenspiel in, intermittent throughout remainder of song

Full drums out at start of next verse, leaving light percussion

(All scatter; cut to Applejack loading up a cart with apples inside the main barn of Sweet Apple Acres.)

Applejack:                Crates of apples and bales of hay

(Outside; now hitched to the cart, she hauls it out. Zoom out quickly to a long overhead shot.)

                        Just makes you feel at home

(Fluttershy, in her cottage, watches as various animals hop/scurry/fly past her and Angel. His fur has de-fluffed itself after Twilight’s earlier overzealous drying.)

Fluttershy:                Furry friends and some popinjays

(The birds perch on the horns of a rather irate goat; it brightens and follows her away.)

                        So she won’t be alone

Full drums in

(A panel showing her in close-up slides up to fill the screen, then splits vertically to show each of the others in time.)

All five:                And we’ll make, and we’ll make, and we’ll make this castle a home

(The five panels slide away to top/bottom, showing Pinkie sliding down a banister inside Sugarcube Corner and grabbing bunches of balloons along the way.)

Full drums/guitar/mandolin/bass out; timpani/flute/brass in; intensity builds

Pinkie:                 There’s nothing like balloons and confetti

(She dives off and plunges into a huge bunch; these float away to show her trotting across her bedroom with several tied around her midsection.)

                        To greet you every time you walk through the door

(Opening one; she is met with a screen-filling blast of the stuff, which clears to frame Rainbow at work in her own cloud house. She grabs a Spitfire figurine from a bookshelf, then sweeps up a couple of trophies and several Wonderbolt posters.)

Rainbow:                She’ll need this and those, posters of all my heroes

(Now she eyes a statue by the front door and salutes it, winking; a saddlebag on her back is loaded with the gear.)

                        How could anypony awesome ever ask for more?

Timpani out; guitar/mandolin/bass in

(Off she goes, the camera cutting briefly to the house’s exterior as she zooms out the front door, then to Rarity’s purposefully trotting hooves. Zoom out to frame all five marching along a Ponyville street with their equipment; Rarity is toting her saddlebags.)

All five:                And we’ll make, and we’ll make, and we’ll make a home she’ll adore

(The camera tracks in a circular arc to stop behind the group and show them on the way to the castle, with Rainbow flying ahead. Inside, Rarity magically ties back a set of ornate curtains and strings up a banner to drape from one window to the next.)

Full drums/guitar/mandolin/bass out; timpani/flute in; intensity builds

Rarity:                Bright curtains of flowing silk and lace

(Rainbow straightens a photo she has hung up.)

Rainbow:                This picture of me winning a race

(Pinkie puts final touches on a table loaded with cupcakes, presents, and balloons.)

Pinkie:                Party cannons to give her a surprise

(As soon as she lifts one lid, a confetti blast fills the screen; it clears to show hay bales, a tub of apples, and a barrel. A hoe and rake are thrown into view, and Applejack walks after them, spreading a line of dirt on the floor from which flowers instantly bloom.)

Applejack:                Hoes and rakes and some more garden supplies

(The bear that got its teeth brushed in the prologue happily cuddles several small animals while a bird perches on its head. It scoops Fluttershy into the embrace as well.)

Fluttershy:                Getting hugs from this nice, big, friendly bear

(Cut to a bouquet of flowers high on one wall and tilt down to Rarity, levitating a gem from a basket.)

Rarity:                Decorate with some gemstones bright and rare

(Rainbow flashes to and fro, tacking up Wonderbolt paraphernalia.)

Rainbow:                More of this and that

(Pinkie hops by, leading a line of animals in party hats and wearing several on her head and tail.)

Pinkie:                Don’t forget the party hats

(Rainbow sets her Spitfire figurine on an unoccupied pedestal.)

Rainbow:                How could anypony awesome ask for more than that?

Timpani/flute/brass out; guitar/mandolin/bass in

Full drums in, then out for start of next verse

(She twirls blissfully away through the assemblage. Dissolve to a close-up of a barrel rolling along a hay-strewn carpet, with a fence and more bales visible behind. Applejack’s hooves are on top, keeping the thing rolling; zoom out to frame her. A row of chicken coops has been set up behind the fence. She brings the barrel to a stop, and one end falls open to spill out feed which a passing pig is all too ready to devour.)

Applejack:                 Let’s all work together

(She jumps off; Fluttershy flies overhead to hang a birdhouse from a crystal column.)

Fluttershy:                To show that we have shown

(Here comes Rarity, levitating a stretch of cloth.)

Rarity:                Princess Twilight Sparkle

Full drums and brass in

(Rainbow sets up a trophy, Rarity some curtains; Applejack pushes a hay bale with her head; Pinkie leaps across, stringing up streamers.)

All five:                How we make, how we make, how we make this castle a home

(Applejack opens a barrel of apples; Rainbow dusts a Wonderbolt shield with her tail; a tray of Pinkie’s cupcakes gets gem accents thanks to Rarity’s magic.)

                        How we make, how we make this castle a home

(Zoom out to frame both, then cut to the throne room, just in front of the central table with the map that sent the six friends to parts unknown in “The Cutie Map.” Applejack is here, and the others join her one by one. A few wisps of hay are scattered on the floor behind them.)

                        How we make, how we make this castle a home

(A quick series of cuts picks out a sample of each pony’s contribution, followed by an overhead shot of the group and slow zoom out. This shot reveals that they have all been working in the throne room, producing a haphazard and hopeless mélange of their individual tastes. Two of the six full-sized thrones have Wonderbolt shields attached, while another is draped with a patchwork quilt, and a large framed picture of the six hangs crookedly on the back wall.)

Song ends

(A stray balloon floats loose and upward, only to be punctured by a circling bird; a squirrel runs down one of the columns; and the bear pulls the lid off an apple barrel and starts gorging itself. The combined effect is to shift the five decorators from confidence to deep unease. Snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to the upper reaches of the throne room and tilt down slowly. The group comes into view on the start of the next line.)

Applejack: (uneasily) Wow, girls. We did a…great job…together.

(Queasy, sweaty smile and chuckle. The next three lines, all of which overlap, are no more convincing.)

Pinkie: Together.

Rainbow: We sure did…somethin’.

Rarity: All together.

(The blue flyer hunches down as one bird wings past her head and another perches on it, then eyes the creatures making their way to her. Every face has a polite, forced smile on it.)

Rainbow: Fluttershy, I love that you brought soooo many animals.

(Close-up of several trophies on a windowsill; zoom out to show Fluttershy looking at them.)

Fluttershy: (to the o.s. Rainbow) Are these your trophies? (The latter flies up.)

Rainbow: I prefer to think of them as everypony’s trophies, but with my name permanently etched onto them.

(Fluttershy’s smile slips a few notches. Down below, Rarity’s nervous chuckle makes itself heard from behind a few hay bales, and she steps out and into view.)

Rarity: My, my, Applejack. Bringing the outdoors inside, it’s… (losing steam) …earthy… (She levitates the corner of a nearby quilt spread on the floor.) …oh, what a lovely touch!

(Sniff the fabric. Choke back a sudden rise of gorge for a moment. Let the quilt drop.)

Rarity: Are these quilts vintage?

Applejack: Nope, just old. (shading eyes against a radiance shining from o.s.) Unlike your sparkly window doohickeys which are…why, uh, they’re just swell. (Chuckle.)

(After she brings up that hoof, the camera cuts to the source of the light—the jewel accents on Rarity’s new curtains—then back to her. Once she finishes, Pinkie zips in between the two.)

Pinkie: No one’s said anything about my hidden confetti cannons! (Squeaky grin.) Oh, right. They’re hidden. (Giggle.)

(The sound of a door opening is heard; cut to Spike entering. He has disposed of the pancakes he took from the breakfast table.)

Spike: Hey, guys. How do my claws look? (Zoom in quickly as he stops short, flabbergasted.) Sweet Celestia!

(His perspective: he has taken in the whole ghastly smorgasbord of decorating conflicts. Fluttershy flies down to join the others.)

Rarity: (trying not to panic) Oh, Spike! Are you and Twilight done already? (Back to him.)

Spike: Don’t worry. I ordered her the Super Deluxe Mane Blowout. She’ll be a while. (walking a little farther in) Man, this place looks terrible!

(Terrified glances pass between the five pairs of equine eyes, followed by a unison sigh of relief.)

Fluttershy: Thank goodness somepony said something.

Rainbow: It’s pretty bad, right?

Applejack: This place looks like a mishmash of knickknacks.

Rarity: Mmm…I suppose it is a little cluttered. (Pinkie pops up.)

Pinkie: What are you guys talking about? (capering about) I think it looks super-fun!

(One of her hidden confetti cannons chooses this moment to fire off, starting the animals into a ground/air-based stampede that brings down trophies, upsets an apple tub, and reduces several hay bales to a mountain of loose straws. Pinkie gallops through the maelstrom, now wearing a party hat.)

Pinkie: Whee!

Fluttershy: (to animals) Oh…oh, no…please don’t do that… um, if you all just take a deep breath and calm down…

(A column thuds to the ground, barely missing her, and two cute little baby chipmunks leap onto a curtain and start trying to climb it.)

Rarity: No! That bunting is embroidered by hoof! Don’t you move one more paw!

(Back to them on the end of this; they release their grip just enough to let gravity pull them down, shredding the opulent fabric. The designer’s last good nerve goes snap.)

Rarity: EVERYPONY STOP!!

(Animals skid to a halt, as does Pinkie, and within moments the tumult has completely died out—except for one curtain rod that clatters to the floor. The party pony gets herself standing upright in short order.)

Pinkie: Okay, now it’s a mess.

(A confetti cannon discharges from somewhere behind her, and Rainbow hovers over the scene.)

Rainbow: What are we gonna do?

Spike: I don’t know! But Twilight’s blowout won’t take that long! If she was avoiding the castle before— (Eyes widen/dilate with fear.) —she’ll never set hoof in here now!

Rainbow: Come on, guys! We gotta do something! Twilight’s counting on us!

Rarity: Spike, you’ve got to get back to that spa and stall her! Whatever you do, don’t let her come home!

Spike: Like, forever? But we live here.

Rarity: Uh, yes. Well, uh, maybe you can manage until… (smiling alluringly) …sunset-ish?

(That smile, and the batted eyelashes she directs at the little dragon, are enough to win him over. He smiles soppily, floating off the ground with pink hearts drifting and popping around him.)

Spike: Anything for you, Rarity. (Now he floats backward and o.s.)

Applejack: (to the others) Okay, we all agree the castle is too cluttered, right? So why doesn’t everypony take one of their own decorations out, and we’ll see how it looks?

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

(Dissolve to Twilight—fully cleaned up, sitting contentedly and facing a mirror, the hood of a salon-style hair dryer lowered over her mane. The image of the spa’s hot tub is visible behind hers in the glass, and Spike’s hustles into view as well.)

Twilight: Spike! You’re back!

(Longer shot of her; Lotus does a bit of hoof touch-up with an emery board, then steps away with the item in her teeth. Twilight sits on a floor cushion.)

Twilight: How do I look?

(Her field lifts the hood away as the camera zooms in to a close-up. Most of the striped dark blue mane has been rearranged into an artfully messy style that tumbles around her horn and sweeps back from her forehead, but the portion running down her neck has been left as is. Spike grins broadly.)

Spike: Great!

Twilight: (toying with her bangs) And more importantly, how does the castle look? (They slide down over her eyes. He thinks fast.)

Spike: Great. (Panicked grin.)

Twilight: (standing up, crossing room) I can’t wait to go home and see it!

Spike: Great!…I mean, no!

(He pulls on her tail to stop her, gets a concerned purple-eyed glance, and lets go.)

Spike: I mean, uh… (She resumes walking.) …I’m not quite ready to go yet. (Chuckle.) Uh, why don’t we have a massage? (reaching o.s., grabbing a brochure) I was really hoping to get, uh… (pointing at one entry) …uh, this thingie!

(The Princess leans down for a good close look.)

Twilight: The Extra-Strength Hot Stone Deep Tissue Massage?

(Turning the brochure around, he sees just how far he has put his scaly little foot in it and swallows hard.)

Spike: (small voice) Yep. (Twilight straightens up; Lotus approaches.)

Twilight: (to her) I think I’ll just have a traditional massage. (Lotus nods and heads off.) But you go for it.

(A new female voice cuts in; during the next line, cut to the speaker—Aloe—at the door.)

Aloe: Did somepony order massages?

(A crash from o.s. forces her to throw up a foreleg, and a few bits of rubble hit the floor nearby. Zoom out to reveal that Bulk Biceps has smashed through the wall, dressed in a sleeveless light blue jersey and a headband in a style similar to the white ones worn by Aloe and Lotus. The collar of his jersey resembles the ones around their necks and has a pink gem set into it.)

Bulk: YEAH!! (Spike stands frozen with terror.) Let’s do this, little dragon!

(He leaps over said dragon’s head on the end of this, turning 180 degree and landing to plant his forelegs on either side, and scoops Spike up in a flex of his massive chest muscles. Bulk trots back the way he came in, but instead of using either the door or the hole he made, he bashes through the wall a second time to wreck even more of the masonry.)

Aloe: Oh, I hate it when he does that. (to the passing Twilight) Come with me, Princess.

(As she follows, the view dissolves to a close-up of Rarity in the throne room, looking uncertainly toward the ceiling. A vexed Applejack leans in toward her.)

Applejack: Come on, Rarity. (as Fluttershy/Rainbow gather in) Everypony has taken somethin’ out, except you. (Pinkie joins them, having shed her party hat.)

Rarity: (whining a bit) Oh, I know. I simply can’t decide.

(Rainbow flies up to the picture of the six friends.)

Rainbow: How about this?

Rarity: No! Not that! Anything but that! (Cut to a bunch of flowers; zoom out to frame Rainbow hovering near them.)

Rainbow: (gesturing at them) How about these?

Rarity: (from o.s.) Oh, but those brighten up the whole room! (Back to her, Fluttershy, and Pinkie.) They’re my favorite accent!

Rainbow: (flying to a window) Then let’s lose the curtains! (trying to pull them down) The room wouldn’t need brightening if they weren’t making it so dark!

Rarity: Not them! They’re my favorite too! (The daredevil swoops down and growls in her face.)

Rainbow: They can’t all be your favorite! (Fly to the picture.) Okay, I’m taking down the portrait. We already know what we look like.

(Down it comes, carried out into the corridor. Groaning disgustedly, the prissy unicorn walks over to the thrones.)

Rarity: Well, the room still looks a little bit cluttered, doesn’t it?

(Her perspective: a couple of Wonderbolt posters high on the far wall.)

Rarity: (very snippy, floating them away) Perhaps I’ll take down a poster or two— (The doorway; Rainbow, returning, gapes as they float out and she continues o.s.) —only to be helpful, of course!

(That earns her a glare from the airborne pony.)

Applejack: Okay, everypony calm down. I’m sure we can find a way to remove the clutter together. (She smiles on this last word; Rarity leans in, smiling nastily.)

Rarity: You’re absolutely right, dear.

(And with that, she gets her magic going to remove the stack of “vintage” quilts, much to their owner’s consternation.)

Applejack: Hey! Those are my warmin’ quilts!

(Cut to the door on the end of this; Rainbow assists in this bit of cleanup by bucking the lot out of the throne room. She then drops to the floor next to Rarity.)

Rainbow, Rarity: (trading a high five) Together!

(The sound of a popping balloon comes through clearly in the quiet. Cut to a couple of them meeting their end at the beaks of two birds.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) Fluttershy— (Cut to these two, Fluttershy not looking too sympathetic.) —tell your birds to stop pecking at my balloons!

Fluttershy: I guess they must not like being scared out of their wits by exploding confetti cannons or something.

Pinkie: But we can’t get rid of the cannons! (smiling, shrugging) I don’t remember where I hid ’em.

(She gets a hint when one blows its stack a few feet away.)

Rarity: (icily) Allow me to help you. (Cut to the exterior of the castle and zoom out slowly.)

Applejack: (from inside) Oh, no, I’ll help you.

Rainbow: (from inside) Not if I help you first!

(Dissolve to a profile close-up of Twilight walking, slow and carefree and utterly at ease, through Ponyville. Her mane has been restored to its usual style, and she voices a blissful sigh.)

Twilight: Great suggestion, Spike. (looking behind herself) I feel totally relaxed.

(On the other hand, his heavy-duty massage has left him in utter agony: gingerly walking bowlegged, neck craned backward as far as it will go, tail bent at a crazy zigzag. Every step yields a loud crackling of joints and vertebrae.)

Spike: Ow…ow…ow…ow…ow…ow… (Twilight has now stopped.)

Twilight: You want to hop on? Maybe I can get us to the castle faster.

(He stops dead, managing to snap his head back to its proper orientation, and throws an unnerved glance back over his shoulder. Pan quickly in that direction and stop on the roof of the town hall, above which the sun is still riding well up in the sky. A supreme force of will allows him to un-kink his back, leaving only his tail out of kilter.)

Spike: (rubbing it) Ow! (catching himself, rushing up to face Twilight) I mean…how…nice is this day! I was…hoping we could take the scenic way back.

Twilight: I don’t know. (His tail straightens out.)

Spike: Come on. (rubbing his back again) Walking is good for post-massage circulation. Twilight: (skeptically, leading him away) Really? I’ve never heard that theory.

(Dissolve to an overhead shot of the two and zoom out slightly as they stop in front of some structure that is only partially in view from this angle. Twilight sighs heavily.)

Twilight: I really miss this place, Spike.

(A cut to behind them discloses the identity of “this place”: the charred, slightly askew remains of the library, which Tirek destroyed in “Twilight’s Kingdom.”)

Twilight: We had so many wonderful memories here.

Spike: We did, didn’t we? (He wipes away a tear.)

Twilight: Oh, Spike, I’m so sorry. (touching his chest) Of course losing the Golden Oak Library was hard for you too.

(They embrace, another tear oozing out of his closed eye, and she smiles after a moment.)

Twilight: I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we have the girls add some things to make the castle feel more like your home as well?

Spike: (brightening) Really?

Twilight: (crouching) Hop on!

(He climbs onto her back, then sneaks another peek toward the town hall as she straightens up. The sun has dipped lower toward the distant mountains, but there is still a good bit of time left before it sets. Spike grimaces at the thought, only to find himself hemmed in by the wings she has spread for liftoff. Thinking fast, he grabs a feather at each wingtip and pulls with all his might; when the Princess tries to fly, she instead ends up belly-flopping back onto the ground.)

Twilight: (rubbing forehead) Ow! What are you doing? (Spike hops off.)

Spike: I, um…I just thought of what I want. (She stands up.)

Twilight: Oh. Okay. What is it?

Spike: It’s a…well, I wanted…it’s… I kinda mean to…a bed. (Big grin.)

Twilight: I thought you said you sleep like a baby in the castle.

Spike: (scoffing) Everypony knows babies are terrible sleepers. Let’s go!

(He runs off, leaving one thoroughly confused winged unicorn to plod after him. Dissolve to just inside the doors of the throne room; Rarity telekinetically directs a Daring Do poster out and into the corridor.)

Rarity: There! Now nothing is cluttering the castle.

(Cut to her four collaborators as they gather near the map table. All of the accoutrements they added have been stripped away.)

Rainbow: (dryly) You’re right. There is literally nothing cluttering this castle.

(On “nothing,” cut to a long overhead shot of them, showing that the entire room has been stripped back to its pre-makeover condition. Cut back to floor level after she finishes.)

Fluttershy: What do we do now?

Rarity: (crossing to them) I hate to be the bearer of more bad news— (gesturing at a window; it is now late afternoon) —but it’s almost sunset! We don’t figure this out soon, it’s going to look like we didn’t lift a hoof to help her! (Cut to Rainbow, now hovering several yards up.)

Rainbow: (exasperated) Why is this so hard? We’re Twilight’s best friends. This should be easy for us.

Applejack: She said it herself. If anypony should be able to make her feel comfortable in her new home, it’s us. (She removes her hat and holds it to her chest.) If we can’t do it…

Fluttershy: …then Twilight will be stuck living in a castle that just makes her feel… (head dropping) …sad.

(Cut to the corridor outside the throne room, then to a different one, then to a broad gallery; her last word reverberates clearly in each silent space. The camera then returns to an overhead shot of the five; Applejack has donned her hat again.)

Pinkie: Wow, Fluttershy! I didn’t know you could be loud enough to echo.

(Fade to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade to Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow, and Rarity doing the following, respectively. Sitting glumly on haunches behind one throne and poking listlessly at the hat lying on the floor in front of her; hunch down miserably; fly laps above the map table; pace in place.)

Rarity: (muttering to herself) Can’t believe I let go of the portrait. If it had just been me as the decorator, I would— (A panicked Pinkie pops up in the fore.)

Pinkie: What do we do, what do we do? If Twilight comes home now, she’ll be like— (to Fluttershy) —“What did you guys do?” And we’ll have to be like— (jumping up to Rainbow) —“Nothing!” (upside down, to Rarity) And then she’ll be like— (to Applejack, peeking out around throne) —“I was counting on you! Some friends you are!” And we’ll be like—

(Straighten up with a scream, a sob, and a bit of hyperventilation, then flop onto her belly in close-up. Zoom out; Applejack steps over to her, the trusty brown hat back in place.)

Applejack: Calm down, Pinkie! We just need to figure out what we did wrong so we can make it right.

Rarity: (from o.s.) Well, I didn’t do anything wrong. (Cut to her.) I did exactly what I would do if this were my home. (Rainbow drops toward her level.)

Rainbow: But it’s not your home. It’s Twilight’s home.

Rarity: (pointedly) Where she keeps all her Rainbow Dash trophies? (Close-up of the racer.)

Rainbow: Touché. (Cut to Fluttershy during the next line.)

Fluttershy: Maybe we’re all a little guilty of making ourselves feel at home instead of Twilight. (All but Applejack deflate a notch.)

Applejack: Come on, y’all. (pacing a bit) We just need to think about Twilight. What was it she loved about livin’ in the Golden Oak Library? (Fluttershy stands up, smiling.)

Fluttershy: Oh, everything. (The others catch on to her mood.) The books, the smell of books— (Pinkie stands up.) —the joy she felt from organizing books…

Rainbow: Remember that time I crashed into all those books attempting my Sonic Rainboom after you guys just cleaned up? (Laugh, then sigh.) That was good times. (Cut to an incensed Applejack.)

Applejack: Yeah, for you, maybe.

Rarity: (from o.s.) Oh, and Applejack… (Cut to her.) …remember when we were stuck having a sleepover there? (laughing a bit) Oh, that turned out to be so much fun.

Pinkie: (animatedly) Remember the time it got blown up to smithereens?

(They have recalled moments from “Sonic Rainboom, “”Look Before You Sleep,” and Part Two of “Twilight’s Kingdom,” in that order. Pinkie’s contribution, unfortunately, throws a brick through the vibe of warm reminiscence; it takes a couple of seconds for her to figure out her misstep.)

Pinkie: Wait, no. That was the worst.

Applejack: (smiling wistfully) We had a lotta good memories there, though. That’s what made the Golden Oak Library home.

(General sounds of assent from the other four, followed by the blond mare pulling in a beaming gasp as a brainstorm strikes.)

Applejack: That’s it!

(Dissolve to a store showroom full of beds, tables set with folded/rolled blankets, and display cases stocked with pillows. Talking with one of the customers is Davenport, the blue-cardigan-clad proprietor of Quills and Sofas, as seen in “Owl’s Well That Ends Well”—evidently he has decided to expand his product offerings a bit. At the far end of the room are Spike, testing out a bed, and Twilight. Zoom in slowly on them.)

Twilight: (testily) How’s that one? Too soft? Too hard? Too lumpy? (He cracks an eye open and glances at her.)

Spike: Um…

(His perspective, panning from her to the nearest window, through which the sun is now seen starting to drop behind the mountains. Back to him, now sitting up.)

Spike: …just right! I’ll take it!        

Twilight: (smiling, relieved) Oh, thank goodness! I thought you’d never find one you liked. Let’s find a sales-pony and get outta here.

(Davenport steps up behind her with a grin as she says this.)

Spike: Sounds good to me.

(He trails off upon seeing, through the window, the other five mares trotting/flying past with shovels carried in hooves and magic.)

Spike: I…um…

(For “um,” the view cuts to Rainbow outside; she twirls her free front hoof in a “keep stalling” gesture, then flies ahead. Back to Spike, who chuckles nervously.)

Spike: (pointing out window) …uh, do you hear that?

(Another chuckle; now he throws himself spreadeagle onto the mattress and pushes on one spot, making creaking noises with his mouth to simulate an obnoxious spring. A second later, he has jumped off and is crossing past a puzzled Twilight and Davenport.)

Spike: Too squeaky. Better keep looking.

(To which the Princess can only clap a front hoof to her forehead with a frustrated groan. Dissolve to a long shot of the ruined library, the other five gathered at its front door.)

Applejack: (sighing) Maybe my plan won’t work after all.

(Head-on view; the shovels have been deposited on the ground before them, and all spirits are down in hooves. Glancing upward, Rarity begins to smile and fit a few thoughts together.)

Rarity: Of course it will, darling. I can see it! You and Fluttershy stay here. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, you come with me. We’re going shopping! (trotting off) We’ll meet back at the castle.

Same style/tempo/key as start of Act One song

Strings out for start of verse

(Pinkie and Rainbow follow her out, while Applejack and Fluttershy get shovel handles in teeth. The farmer is first to put her blade into the dirt.)

Applejack:                It’s not the things that you gather ’round

(Fluttershy directs a crew of burrowing animals to start digging.)

Fluttershy:                It’s not how much you own

(Rarity trots out of a shop, floating a shopping bag. Behind her, Pinkie has the handles of a few more in her teeth and Rainbow flies backward out the door, chompers clamped onto many more. They get briefly stuck in the frame and need a good pull to come loose.)

Rarity:                The things that hold the meaning in your life

(All three head for the castle.)

                        Are the memories you’ve sown

Strings/brass/full drums in

(The throne room. Pinkie dumps out several bags; Rarity, her reading glasses on, carefully runs a thread through a gemstone; Applejack brushes/blows dust off something large and woody.)

All five:                So we make, so we make, so we make this castle a home

(When the view clears, Rainbow is airborne and running a rope over a pulley mounted near the ceiling. Applejack and Pinkie bite down on the free end and pull.)

                        So we make, so we make this castle a home

(Fluttershy and Rainbow follow suit on a second rope, with Rarity—her glasses off—watching carefully as the huge mass slowly rises.)

                        So we make, so we make this castle a home

(All five trade a round of congratulatory smiles. Cut to the star atop the castle’s highest tower and tilt down slowly.)

Song ends

(When the camera reaches ground level, Twilight and Spike come into view, on their way toward the front doors. The baby dragon is carrying something. Cut to a set of closed doors within; one swings open from the other side and the Princess puts her head through.)

Twilight: Hel-loooo? (Open farther; here comes Spike, a stack of cushions in his grip.) We’re home!

(Zoom out to frame the end of this corridor; the other five gallop/fly toward them.)

Other mares: Welcome home!

(Another corridor; Twilight walks slowly along it, the others following. Spike has put away his load.)

Twilight: (slightly crestfallen) Oh! I, uh…love what you’ve done with the place. You did such a good job of… (Close-up; she stops.) …preserving the integrity of the original design.

Spike: (from o.s., exasperated) Aw, come on! (Cut to frame all seven.) It looks exactly the same! (to the other mares) Do you know how hard it was to keep her from coming back here?

(Cut to him and Rarity.)

Spike: (pulling at his cheeks) I never want to see another dust ruffle as long as I live!

Twilight: (from o.s., puzzled) Wait. (Cut to her.) Keep me from coming back here?

Rarity: (chuckling) It took a teensy bit longer than we thought. (Applejack doffs her hat and holds it to her chest.)

Applejack: What really makes home feel like home isn’t what it looks like. (smiling, glancing toward others) It’s the memories you make when you’re there.

Rarity: So we made something that celebrates the memories we’ve made with you since you moved to Ponyville.

(Cut to just inside the closed doors to the throne room. These are opened from outside by Fluttershy and Rainbow in the air, and the five on the ground walk in; Applejack has her hat on now. Twilight glances upward, her mouth falling open in stunned silence. A cut to the room proper shows that everything is as it was after the well-meaning but insensitive quintet finished pulling all their accessories out of it. However, a tilt up toward the ceiling picks out one item that was definitely not there before: a massive tree stump with roots still attached, from which strings of glowing gems in various colors hang down. The group’s earlier activities now make sense—they dug up the remains of the library, trimmed down the stump, fitted it with lights, and hoisted it into place.)

Fluttershy: (flying to one string, Rainbow to another) The ornaments on the chandelier are reminders of all the fun we’ve had together. (Close-up of one stone.)

Pinkie: (from o.s., nudging it; zoom in) That one shows your party at the Golden Oak Library welcoming you to Ponyville.

(The touch causes an image to appear in the center: the main reading room packed with ponies, and Pinkie hopping around a perplexed Twilight—the new arrival’s party in “Mare in the Moon.” Cut to Fluttershy, flying up to a different one.)

Fluttershy: (nudging it) The time we shared donuts after the Grand Galloping Gala.

(Close-up of this one as she finishes, zooming in: the six in their ruined dresses, gathered around a table at Pony Joe’s donut shop and laughing along with Princess Celestia in “The Best Night Ever.” Back to ground level; Twilight boggles at the entire spectacle.)

Rarity: We were hoping that being able to look at your beautiful old memories would inspire you to make new ones.

Applejack: And the best part of it is— (Long shot of the room.) —it’s made from the roots of the Golden Oak Library, so you’ll never forget where you came from.

(Fluttershy and Rainbow fly back down, and all six who were in on this scheme cringe slightly, fearing the worst. Twilight, though, just stands and stares for a long moment before turning to face them, joyful tears brimming in the big purple eyes.)

Twilight: It’s exactly what the castle needed. (They rush together into a seven-way group hug.) And I am ready to make new memories here. (Break apart.)

Pinkie: Then let’s start right now with a new-memory cake!

(One giant grin and sprint away later, she is walking back in with a seven-tiered masterpiece on her back, each tier frosted in a different color.)

Pinkie: Seven-Layer What’s-That-Flavor Mystery Surprise! (pointing out one layer’s decorations) These might be chocolate chips, or they might be super-spicy black beans!

Twilight: Let’s go to the dining room.

(Cut to just inside the closed doors to this area.)

Twilight: (from outside, through door) It’s a little sparse, but— (Her magic opens them and the group enters.) —at least there’s a table and chairs. (Stop short.) Whoa! (Zoom out slowly.) What happened in here?

(As she is leading them in, she misses the enigmatic smile and cocked eyebrow on Rarity’s face. Cut to her perspective of the room—now thoroughly and tastefully decked out with banners, flowers, and glowing gem lights on the walls. A gold light fixture hangs above the table, which is laid on with an abundance of treats and sporting an ice sculpture of a unicorn.)

Twilight: Last I checked, this place was empty! (Back to the seven.)

Rarity: I couldn’t help myself! (Close-up.) It was just begging for the personal touch! (Pan to Applejack on the start of the next line.)

Applejack: Truth be told…I couldn’t either. Your kitchen might have some rustic farm décor, Twilight.

Rainbow: And there may or may not be some Daring Do posters up in your library.

Fluttershy: And some stuffed animals in your bedroom. (The detonation of an o.s. confetti cannon shakes the entire room, accompanied by a splat.)

Twilight: What was that?

(Long shot of the group. This blast has reduced Pinkie’s cake to mush and plastered it all over her, Applejack, the floor, and the doors.)

Applejack: (sighing wearily) One of Pinkie Pie’s confetti cannons.

Pinkie: Whaaaat? It’s not my fault I hid them so well! (All laugh.)

Applejack: (during laughter) Oh, Pinkie…

(Fade to black.)


BLOOM & GLOOM

Written by Josh Haber

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by Meghan McCarthy

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Directed by Jim Miller

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse during the day. Zoom in slowly to the sound of a gavel.)

Apple Bloom: (voice over) Hear ye, hear ye! This meeting of the Cutie Mark Crusaders is now in session!

(Cut to her at a lectern inside.)

Bloom: Who wants to do roll call? (Longer shot; Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle are here as well.)

Scootaloo: I’m pretty sure we’re all here.

Sweetie: Yeah. Apple Bloom, what’s this all about?

Bloom: (smiling innocently) Oh, nothin’…

(Long pause, after which she whips out a sheet of paper signed at the bottom, with a pair of scissors drawn in alongside. The finger holes are shaped so that they combine to resemble the exposed surface of a cut apple half.)

Bloom: (excitedly, holding it toward camera) …except this letter from Babs Seed saying she’s got her cutie mark! (She pulls it back; the other two crowd in around her.)

Scootaloo, Sweetie: What?!?

Bloom: She says it’s a pair of scissors. (Close-up of Scootaloo, perplexed.)

Scootaloo: So…she’s good at cutting stuff?

Sweetie: (from o.s.) Of course! (Cut to her, fiddling with her curls.) She was always fussing with her bangs and tail. I’ll bet she grows up to be a celebrity stylist!

Bloom: (as Scootaloo turns away to think) But…if she spends all her time cuttin’ hair, who’s gonna run the Manehattan CMC’s?

Scootaloo: Well, not Babs. She can’t be a Cutie Mark Crusader if she’s already got her cutie mark. (The other two leave the lectern.)

Bloom: Oh, wow. I guess you’re right. (She sits on her haunches.)

Sweetie: I’m glad she’s happy, but…I sure wouldn’t want to be up to my flank in mane hair all day. (Zoom in slowly.) Can you imagine getting stuck with a cutie mark you didn’t like? (Cut to Bloom.)

Bloom: (softly) No…or…at least I hadn’t.

Sweetie: (brightly, crossing to her) Don’t worry, Apple Bloom. Most of your family has apple-related cutie marks. (poking her shoulder) I bet yours will be, too. (Bloom smiles.) And what’s not to like about apples?

Scootaloo: (from o.s.) There’s the core… (Cut to her.) …and sour apples, and rotten apples… (grimacing) …and apples with worms in them…

(Zoom out to show the young unicorn aiming a most disapproving look at her.)

Scootaloo: What?

Sweetie: Not helping.

(A cut to Bloom drives home the point; the yellow filly has hunched down into a shaking, shivering ball of nerves next to the lectern. Zoom in slowly and fade to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of Sweet Apple Acres and zoom in slowly on the main barn. Night has fallen, and a second-story window is the only one showing a light.)

Bloom: (voice over) I guess I spent so much time worryin’ about how to get a cutie mark, I never even thought about what would happen after.

(Cut to a close-up of her, lying on her back in bed and still as worked up as at the end of the prologue.)

Bloom: There’s just so many things I never considered.

(Zoom out quickly to frame Applejack standing at her bedside and nipping a blanket up to tuck her in—this is Bloom’s bedroom.)

Applejack: I’m sure there are, but you don’t need to— (Bloom sits up, throwing the bedclothes off to cover her.)

Bloom: What if I finally get my cutie mark and I-I don’t like it?

(Close-up of the blanket-covered big sister, trying to extract herself.)

Bloom: (from o.s.) What if I get my cutie mark and nopony likes me? (Applejack gets free.)

Applejack: Well, that’s just ridicu—

Bloom: (from o.s.) What if the Crusaders drift apart? (Back to her, huddled into a ball; Applejack gently covers her again.) I mean, we won’t really be the Cutie Mark Crusaders anymore. (Sit up; throw off blanket; huge gasp.) What if it’s not an apple?

(This time, the linens have caught on the brim of Applejack’s hat. If the visible portion of her face is any indication, this whole existential crisis is wearing thin for her.)

Bloom: (pulling them away, grabbing Applejack’s chest) Will I have to move out? Where will I live? (She slides down.)

Applejack: (smiling patiently) All right, that’s enough, sugar cube.

(Cut to the younger pony, curled up miserably against the pillows.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) Those are way too many questions to answer all in one night. (Zoom out to frame her; Bloom shoots upright again.)

Bloom: But—

Applejack: (chuckling, easing her down) And nopony’s gonna make you move out. (Cover her up a third time.)

Bloom: Are you sure, Applejack?

Applejack: Of course I’m sure. Now get some sleep. (Back to Bloom; she continues o.s.) You’ll see. (stepping into view, stroking Bloom’s cheek; she smiles) Everythin’ll be better in the mornin’.

Quiet music-box melody, slow 4 (B major)

Applejack:                Hush now, little sister, you’re loved by all you know

                        You’ll never lose their friendship, no matter where you go

(backing off; Bloom’s eyes drift shut)

                        There ain’t no call to worry, so don’t you cry or fret

(easing out the door)

                        A cutie mark won’t change you, no matter what you get

Song ends

(She gently pulls the door closed behind herself, and the lights go out; Bloom yawns and settles in under the covers.)

Bloom: (sleepily) No matter what I get…

(Zoom in slowly for a few seconds, then dissolve to her sprawled out on her back and snoring peacefully away. Birds can now be heard chirping outside, and a shaft of sunlight makes its way up the bed toward her face—morning has come. The crowing of a rooster causes the red-gold eyes to open drowsily, and she rubs the sleep out of them and puts on an eager little grin as her face becomes fully illuminated. The wake-up ends with her sitting upright.)

Bloom: Hoo-wee! Nothin’ like a good night’s sleep. (An iron triangle rings out.)

Applejack: (from downstairs, through floor) BREAKFAST!!

(The filly is out of bed like a shot. Down in the kitchen, Applejack sets a plate stacked high with pancakes on the table; a bowl of apples has also been set out. Bloom peeks in from around the threshold, the focus shifting to her from Applejack as she speaks.)

Bloom: You were right, Applejack. I feel much better. (Close-up, from the back up; she walks in.) I don’t know what I was so worried about last night. (Cut to Applejack.)

Applejack: See? Now what did I tell you? (Bloom moves closer and stops; only head and forelegs are in frame.) A good night’s sleep’ll fix just about a—

(Her sentence ends as if slashed off by a knife, the green eyes widening as she cocks her head for a look at something not in view and brings it back to horizontal.)

Applejack: (flabbergasted) Well, no wonder you were so worked up!

(She shifts into a smile by the end of this line; close-up of Bloom’s face.)

Bloom: (rubbing cheeks, finding nothing) What? What is it?

Applejack: (from o.s.) Looks like somepony got her cutie mark!

(That gets Bloom’s full and undivided attention, and the camera pans/zooms out very slightly as she runs an eye over her haunch. On it is a canister with a pump handle on top and a hose attached to the side, which terminates in a sprayer wand. The entire rig resembles an old-style, hand-pumped fire extinguisher. The side of the canister displays a circle with a slash through it, and issuing from the wand is a cloud of white vapor with an apple inside. Bloom gasps at the sight.)

Bloom: I can’t believe it! (Zoom out.) I got my cutie mark!

(She wiggles her rump a bit, as if trying to confirm that it is not just a sticker that will peel off, then zips over to Applejack.)

Bloom: (shaking her wildly) I GOT MY CUTIE MARK!!

(The onslaught leaves her big sister’s eyes rattling wildly in their sockets. Long shot of the barn, zooming out slowly; Big Macintosh is plowing a field.)

Bloom: (from inside, echoing) I GOT MY CUTIE MARK!!

(These five words are delivered with enough sheer force to shake the camera, freeze the red stallion in his tracks, and frighten a great many birds out of the distant orchards. Back in the kitchen, Bloom is hopping in place like a Mexican jumping bean pumped full of espresso, while Applejack smiles indulgently and straightens her hat.)

Bloom: Wait ’til I tell the others that my cutie mark is a… (eyeing it, puzzled) …a…

(Close-up of it, then zoom out to frame the sisters’ faces.)

Bloom: What is it?

Applejack: I have no idea what it means. (An old, slightly quavery male voice cuts in.)

Male voice: (slightly muffled) I know what it means!

(Cut to a set of four tan hooves stepping to the threshold of the open door leading from the kitchen to the barnyard, and zoom out/tilt up to frame this new arrival. Earth pony stallion; same cutie mark as Bloom, but without the apple and vapor cloud; collared shirt with foreleg sleeves rolled up; short white/gray mane/tail; face completely hidden by a steel helmet with goggles and respirator attached. Strapped to his back is a piece of machinery from which a cylindrical glass jar stands straight up. Mounted on the side is a flared horn pointing straight back, with a hose running from its base, over the stallion’s chest, and connecting to the other side of the device. After a hissing inhale and exhale, he removes the helmet to expose a wrinkled, smiling face with brown eyes topped by prominent brows, as well as a chin speckled with stubble. The exterminator has arrived.)

Exterminator: It means I can retire!

(Zoom in to a close-up of his mark as he lets off a whooping laugh, then wipe to a long shot of the barn, seen from the side. A zoom out frames Bloom following the old stallion toward the orchards; the latter has traded his helmet for a baseball cap and is chewing on a leaf.)

Bloom: Infestations? (She stops.) You mean like parasprites? (She hurries to catch up.)

Exterminator: (chuckling contemptuously) Please. Anypony with a trombone can get rid of parasprites. I’m talkin’ about the serious stuff! (softly, ominously) You ever hear of…twittermites?

(He has referred to Pinkie Pie’s strategy for dealing with the pests in “Swarm of the Century.” Lightning cracks the sky behind him after he finishes speaking.)

Bloom: (confused) Twittermites?

(A jar is held up to her face—identical to the one on his back, but filled with buzzing insects that emit a bright, pale blue-white glow. She scrunches up her face and allows herself a better look; close-up of the creatures.)

Exterminator: (from o.s.) Pest ponies like you and me are the only things keepin’ these live wires from destroyin’ half of Equestria! (Pan to frame him on the end of this, then cut to Bloom.)

Bloom: Pest ponies?

Exterminator: (from o.s., pulling jar away) It’s no easy trade.

(Longer shot of the two, the jar now mounted on his back.)

Exterminator: (wistfully) Even the best of us yearns for the day they can move on to greener pastures. (smiling, walking off) Oh, now that you’re here to take over, my day has finally come.

Bloom: (skeptically, following him) Take over? (Her perspective: he stops and gives her a squint-eyed glare.)

Exterminator: You’re gonna need to stop repeating everything I say and pay attention if you want to learn anything.

(Cut to frame both; he is leaning so far into her face that she has backed down onto her haunches.)

Bloom: I’m sorry. (He backs off and walks ahead; she stands up.) I guess this just wasn’t what I was expecting.

Exterminator: (chuckling) Don’t worry. (She catches up.) With a cutie mark like that, I’m sure you got the touch.

Bloom: The touch? (Both stop; he glares at her again.) Oh. Sorry.

(As he continues along the path, she lets her unease at this unexpected special talent come through loud and clear on her face. Cut to a close-up of a large metal model of a parasprite and zoom out on the start of the next line. It is mounted atop a rack of containment jars on a cart; a small horn projects from one side, and a net stands vertically in a clamp on the rear end. Bloom now wears a rig on her back identical to his own; he has removed the jar full of twittermites and has installed an empty one in its place.)

Exterminator: Now, you’re gonna need to be quick. (He retrieves the full jar from within the cart.) Once these things get out, it can get pretty shockin’.

(Once he flips the lid away, it takes almost no time for the bugs to zoom skyward in a hissing, incandescent mass and spread out into several smaller groups. The camera follows this motion and stays on them as sparks begin to crackle from one to the next.)

Bloom: (from o.s.) Wait. (Cut to her; one group sneaks up behind.) What do you mean?

(She gets the point when a bolt connects squarely with her rump.)

Bloom: Ouch! (She ends up on her haunches in front of the oldster, who laughs.)

Exterminator: Told you! And the farther apart they spread— (Overhead shot; the groups slowly pull apart.) —the more powerful these jolts’ll get!

(Ground level; the filly leaps away from one that leaves a prominent scorch mark in the dirt.)

Bloom: What do I do?

Exterminator: You call them back, of course.

(With a new burst of determination, Bloom pulls the horn from its resting spot and gets it ready to use.)

Bloom: (calling overhead) Twittermites!

(She moves a few steps ahead and whistles shrilly, following it with a yelping shout and a nimble leap up toward several groups. The device is quickly aimed here and there, sucking up the twittermites like a vacuum cleaner, and within seconds every last one has been pulled into the jar. Bloom makes a perfect three-point landing, looks back at her cargo of captive high-voltage pests, and grins broadly before dashing off. Cut to another swarm hanging out near a tree.)

Bloom: (from o.s.) Twittermites!

        

(They follow the sound of her voice, only to get vacuumed up in short order when she drops into view, hanging from a tree branch. Next she balances on one rear hoof atop a fence post and leaps to the next one to avoid a shock, all the while rounding up the insects. She leaps away from the fence, continuing her roundup in midair with increasing ease; cut to an extreme close-up of one still on the loose. From this distance, its antennae and the rear half of its body can be seen to have jagged lightning-bolt contours.)

Bloom: (from o.s.) Bug-bug-bug-bug-bug-bug-bug!

(It looks around in confusion, zoom out quickly to frame Bloom standing right next to it. One touch of the trigger pulls it neatly into the machine, after which she twirls the horn and slots it back into place like a gunslinger showing off with his revolver.)

Exterminator: (from o.s.) Well…

(She looks quickly around herself; cut to him, now standing a short distance away. He has traded his work shirt for a flowered one, perched a pair of sunglasses on his cap, and done away with his cart and vacuum rig. Two suitcases stand next to him as well, one on either side—he is ready for a vacation.)

Exterminator: …it looks like you’re all set. (close-up; putting on shades) Drop me a note sometime at the Piney Shade Retirement Community.

Bloom: (from o.s.) Now hold on!

(Cut to her; the cart stands in the background.)

Bloom: (removing/setting down vacuum) I’m sure this job is real important, but I don’t think I want to call bugs for the rest of my life.

(The camera returns to the spot where the elderly stallion had been standing—but he is now gone without trace. She pops up into view to stare down the path.)

Bloom: Hey! Where’d he go?

Diamond Tiara: (from o.s.) Well, well, well.

(The young pest control expert throws a panicked glance back over her shoulder; cut to Diamond and Silver Spoon standing by the cart. Silver has detached the jar of twittermites from the vacuum and is idly tossing it up.)

Diamond: Look at the new bug pony. (Bloom crosses angrily to them.)

Bloom: It’s “pest pony.”

Silver: (walking past, shoving jar into her chest) Ugh. It sure is. Ew!

(The impact knocks Bloom back onto her haunches; in close-up, Diamond crosses to her.)

Diamond: I might have known you’d end up with the worst cutie mark ever!

(Her derisive laughter mingles with that of the o.s. Silver as Bloom looks despondently down at her haunch, the camera zooming in on said mark. From here, cut to Silver.)

Silver: But look on the bright side. (She and Diamond circle slowly around Bloom.) Whenever you need a friend, you can just go out and catch one! (Giggle.)

Bloom: That’s not funny.

Diamond: (as if calling a dog) Here, friend-friend-friend-friend-friend!

Bloom: Stop it!

Silver: (following Diamond’s lead) Here, bug! (to a ladybug) Here, bug! Will you be my friend, bug? (looking over shoulder at Bloom) Because nopony else will! (She and Diamond laugh; Bloom stands up, plenty sore.)

Bloom: You know what? My cutie mark isn’t the worst, you two are!        

(Throwing aside the jar of twittermites, she gallops away as the two snobs have a good laugh, Diamond falling onto her flank. A close-up of the jar picks out the cracks that begin to form due to hitting the ground, as well as the pinpoints of lights that shine through. Bloom races through the countryside, slowing to a walk after several hundred yards; behind her, the terrain slowly shifts from farmland to deep forest.)

Bloom: (sighing) I hate to think that Diamond Tiara is right, but…this cutie mark sure isn’t what I was hopin’ for.

(Her ruminations are cut off by a second unknown voice—this one female, distant, sounding as if carried on the wind, and wavering ever so slightly in pitch. A gust comes through at this point, whipping at Bloom’s mane/tail.)

Female voice: Why should you have to keep it, then?

(Zoom out quickly to show that the filly has arrived in a small clearing, with only a couple of sunbeams shining down through the forest canopy for illumination.)

Bloom: Who’s there? What do you mean?

(A dark blur whisks past in the foreground; Bloom starts to back fearfully away, not seeing it zip behind her.)

Female voice: If your cutie mark bothers you so much, get rid of it.

Bloom: (grimacing) Well, if you know how to wave a hoof and erase a terrible cutie mark, you go right ahead!

Female voice: As easily said as done.

(Another gust, which nearly blows Bloom sideways; when it dies away, she looks at her haunch and finds it unadorned.)

Bloom: (smiling) Huh. Now that is some serious magic.

(A leaf floats down, completely filling the screen; behind its trailing edge, the view wipes to the spot from which she fled. She trots happily to the center of the path, stops, and looks from one side to the other. Here come her two nemeses along with a plethora of other ponies as part of a panicked perambulation—a stampede, that is. Bloom ends up knocked onto her belly.)

Bloom: Hey! Where’s everypony goin’?

(In Ponyville proper, utter bedlam has taken hold. The streets and air are filled with terrified equines dashing madly this way and that, and every building in sight has had its upper portion charred or partially burned away. Bloom gawks at the damage and gallops over to Mayor Mare, who has laid several scrolls on the ground and is frantically reading over one she has unrolled. Nearby, two ponies are loading their possessions into a cart for a fast bug-out.)

Bloom: Mayor! What’s goin’ on?

Mayor Mare: (hoof to Bloom’s shoulder) Apple Bloom, you’ve got to get your family out of town!

(A sizzle of electricity draws their focus to a house that stands a short distance away—but not for long, as a twittermite shock reduces it to a charred jumble of timbers. Tilt up to show the main swarm now broken up into several small groups that are well separated into a loose ring, with far too much electrical energy coursing from one to another.)

Bloom: TWITTERMITES!

(She gallops away. Cut to the jar she threw aside—now empty and broken in two—as she reaches it and gasps in quiet horror. Her features rearrange themselves into an expression of fierce resolve, and the camera pans to a close-up of the empty jars on the pest control wagon. One of these is taken down and fitted to her vacuum rig, and she slings it up, tightens the strap to hold it on her back, and gets ready to do her thing with the horn.)

Bloom: (calling out) Twittermites!

(One group buzzes past behind her, going completely unnoticed.)

Bloom: Here, bug-bug-bug-bug-bug-bug!

(What she gets for her efforts is a hearty jolt that sends her toppling to the earth, a tendril of smoke rising from her form. Looking across the way, she spots another bunch idling past a tree; she hangs from one branch, ready to suck them up.)

Bloom: Here, bugs!

(No dice again; they give her a shock that drops her like a rock. One capture attempt after another ends the same way; unable to capture even a single twittermite this time, she ends up lying at the center of a very large burn mark and with her mane/tail/face nicely singed. The charged-up nuisances fly away.)

Bloom: Come on, here!

Applejack: (from o.s.) Apple Bloom!

(Cut to her, now on the scene with a full sack on her back. Bloom sits up and wipes herself clean.)

Applejack: What in tarnation are you doin’? (Bloom gallops to her; the stampede continues around them.)

Bloom: I’m tryin’ to stop the infestation, of course!

Applejack: Only a pest pony can do that!

(An upward glance shows her that the problem has moved into this area.)

Applejack: (galloping past) Now come on! We gotta skedaddle! (Bloom looks helplessly around herself.)

Bloom: But I’ve gotta do somethin’! (She sprints toward the swarm.)

Applejack: (calling after her) Are you crazy?!?

(The glowing clouds spread out a bit farther and begin to charge up, and the camera zooms out to show that they are now directly above the family’s main barn. Bloom reaches an overlooking hill just in time to see them unleash a massive bolt that hits the structure dead center. Cut to a close-up of her, a reflection of the strike shining in the pupils of two eyes that bug out over a jaw that has fallen open to its fullest extension over this utter catastrophe. Zoom in quickly and snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to Bloom staring sadly from her hilltop at the smoking, burned-black framework which is all that remains of the barn. The twittermites slowly move off, having done all the damage they can do here, and she drops despondently to her haunches and lets her gear clatter to the ground. A crackle draws her gaze upward; zoom out to frame a few dozen of the varmints hovering directly overhead. She has time for one short gasp before they let her have it—and then the camera cuts to her sitting up in bed with a scream. The rooster’s crowing from outside marks the start of a new day.)

(A very jittery Bloom lets her eyes flick all around the room for the moment; cut to just outside her window. The rooster, sitting on the sill, leaps away with a squawk when she mashes her face up against the glass—and it somehow manages to leave an egg behind.)

Bloom: (smiling, slightly muffled) Hoo-wee!

(Long shot of the grounds, panning slowly across; the barn is intact.)

Bloom: (voice over) That’s what I call a nightmare! (Back to her, inside.) It seemed so real!

(The triangle in the kitchen sounds off.)

Applejack: (from downstairs, through floor) BREAKFAST!!

(Just as in Act One, the young pony is off at full speed. In the kitchen, Applejack has once again made pancakes—some topped with chocolate chips, whipped cream, and sprinkles, others with blueberries, rather than plain as in Act One. Several muffins are also on the table, and the bowl of apples has been replaced by lemons. The focus stays on Applejack as Bloom peeks into view around the threshold.)

Bloom: Applejack— (Focus on her.) —you are not gonna believe the dream I just had! (Close-up, from the back up; she walks in.) I guess I needed more sleep than I thought. (Cut to Applejack.)

Applejack: See? Now what did I tell you? (Bloom moves closer and stops; only head and forelegs are in frame.) A good night’s sleep’ll fix just about—

(Stop short. Cock the head to one side with a gasp.)

Applejack: (tilting head back to horizontal) Well, no wonder you were so worked up! (Close-up of Bloom’s face.)

Bloom: What?

Applejack: (from o.s.) Looks like somepony got her cutie mark! (Bloom looks toward her haunch; zoom out.)

Bloom: Again?

(That spot now depicts a flask containing a red apple and spurting green liquid from its neck.)

Bloom: I mean… (smiling) …I did? (circling briefly in place) Woo-hoo! Potion-making! Now that’s more like it!

Applejack: More like what?

Bloom: Never mind. I’m just glad Princess Twilight’s lessons finally paid off!

(Referring to Twilight Sparkle’s tutoring of the Crusaders in “Twilight Time.”)

Applejack: I expect you want to run off to the clubhouse and tell your friends all about your new cutie mark.

(During this line, Bloom breaks into a huge grin and the camera cuts to a close-up of Applejack.)

Applejack: But before you go, make sure you do all your…

(She loses her power of speech and stares uncomprehendingly ahead; cut to an overhead shot of the kitchen, in which she is now very much alone. A look all around the room confirms it.)

Applejack: …chores?

(Cut to a stake set up for a game of horseshoes, next to the lectern in the Crusaders’ clubhouse. One shoe has already scored as a ringer, and a second one sails into view and clatters down on top of it. Cut to Scootaloo and Sweetie, the former with a shoe in her mouth and ready to throw, the latter smiling at her accuracy; the sound of the door being thrown open cuts in ,and its edge swings into view.)

Bloom: (from o.s.) WOO-HOO!!

(The interruption startles Scootaloo into throwing the shoe off in some random direction. Zoom out to frame the earth pony at the door.)

Scootaloo: Why all the excitement?

Sweetie: Yeah! What’s going on?

Bloom: (walking in, smiling innocently) Oh, nothin’… (excitedly, presenting her haunch) …except this brand-new cutie mark!

(Close-up of it on the end of this; the other two race across the floor to her. The next two lines overlap.)

Scootaloo: That’s amazing!

Sweetie: Wow!

(There follows a jumble of happy exclamations, accompanied by a jumping group hug.)

Bloom: I don’t suppose either of you got yours.

Scootaloo: (suddenly dejected) Nope.

Sweetie: (ditto) Me neither.

Bloom: I know it’s silly, but I always hoped we’d get our cutie marks together. (She sits on her haunches for this last word.)

Scootaloo: Me too.

Sweetie: (smiling) But I’m still super-excited for you! (Grin.)

Scootaloo: (smiling) Absolutely!

(A synapse or three fires under the big pink bow, and its wearer stands up.)

Bloom: I know! (She zips to the podium and taps her hoof against the gavel block.) Let’s call this meeting to order! I’m sure the three of us can figure out how to get two more cutie marks.

(A worried look passes between her two partners in mayhem.)

Sweetie: (hesitantly) Um…yeah. The thing is…

Bloom: What?

Scootaloo: Well, you can’t be a Cutie Mark Crusader if you’ve already got your cutie mark.

Bloom: (deflated; the others walk away) Oh…yeah. Just like Babs Seed. Well, I can just sit quietly in the corner while you two figure out what you’re gonna do.

Sweetie: (now o.s.) Well…

(Cut to her and Scootaloo, now standing by the open door and utterly devoid of any friendly reaction.)

Sweetie: (gesturing toward it) …technically the clubhouse is for Crusaders only. (Scootaloo nods.)

Bloom: (floored) Oh. Right. (Cut to just outside; she exits.) I guess I should just come back later, then?

Sweetie: Why? I mean, you can’t come in then, either.

Bloom: Oh.

Sweetie: Rules are rules.

Scootaloo: I don’t even think we’re still supposed to be friends.

(The conversation ends when Sweetie slams the door. Close-up of a shocked Bloom.)

Bloom: What?!?

(The eyes pop wide as she looks back toward the structure, finding that the door and windows have been instantly boarded up. Another close-up and zoom out reveal that she has been transported to the same foreboding clearing in which she met the presence that stripped away her first cutie mark.)

Bloom: (pacing, calling out) Sweetie Belle! Scootaloo! Come on, fillies, this isn’t funny!

(Here comes a wind gust that stops her cold, and then that disembodied female voice.)

Female voice: More trouble with cutie marks?

(The dark apparition that whisked through the trees during Bloom’s first visit looms behind her, then zips away.)

Bloom: (looking around herself) No…I mean…wh…yeah…I-I mean…well, I got mine, but my friends didn’t get theirs and now there’s all kinds of trouble.

Female voice: Sounds to me like cutie marks and trouble are two peas in the same pod. (Another quick pass by the image.)

Bloom: (pacing more slowly; it keeps pace behind her) I guess so. I mean, if I was a blank flank again, there wouldn’t be a problem!

Female voice: Your wish is my command.

(A gust blows in, encircling the filly to become a small tornado that expands to fill the screen. Dissolve to a patch of grass littered by fragments of shattered planks. Scootaloo and Sweetie advance into view, seen head-on and goggling at the mess, but are forced to stop suddenly when another piece crashes to the ground right in front of them. They look up and o.s.)

Scootaloo: Hey, Apple Bloom. Why’d you want to meet here?

(Cut to Bloom, standing cheerfully on the ramp that leads up to the clubhouse. The boards on the windows and door have been stripped off, and she kicks a piece of wood off the ramp. Her potion cutie mark is now gone.)

Bloom: (descending) Well, us blank flanks have to meet somewhere. (Sweetie grimaces…)

Scootaloo: Um…actually, Apple Bloom…we both sorta got our cutie marks. (…then nods sadly; Bloom stops short.)

Bloom: You did?

(The fluffy red tail flicks instinctively forward to cover her new lack of one, just as Babs Seed used to do.)

Bloom: (forcing a smile) What are they? (Profile close-up of the other two faces, set in haughty disdain.)

Scootaloo: Oh, we don’t have time to go into all that. (Sweetie whips over to Bloom.)

Sweetie: And we certainly don’t have time to hang out in an old clubhouse. (Here comes Scootaloo on the other side.)

Scootaloo: Yeah. We’ve got responsibilities now. (Both start walking off.)

Sweetie: But maybe we’ll see you later.

Scootaloo: (now o.s.) Much later.

Bloom: Wait! Hold on! I can get my cutie mark back…I think! (Close-up; loud, frustrated groan.) I mean, I got it once, right? Oh, just wait a second!

(Zoom out quickly, the background dissolving around her to become the interior of the clubhouse. The boards are back on the windows, and all of the decorations have been removed from the walls; cobwebs fill the corners, and only a few surviving items lie forlornly scattered about. She is alone at the lectern.)

Bloom: NOOOOOOOOO!!

(The family rooster pops up outside one window, its head visible in a gap between the boards, and crows loudly. Up pops the youngster’s head in the foreground—teeth gritted, eyes staring wildly, and completely scared out of her wits. Zoom out slightly to show her sitting up in bed, the background instantly changing to her room. A fretful glance to each side, and the camera cuts to a shot of the entire room, with blue morning sky beyond the window. The next shot is a long view of the completely intact clubhouse, seen through the glass, followed by a zoom out that frames Bloom gazing at it from bed. She pulls the blanket up like a cloak and hood.)

Bloom: What in Equestria’s goin’ on? (The triangle in the kitchen sounds off.)

Applejack: (from downstairs, through floor) BREAKFAST!!

Bloom: (climbing down from bed, still wearing blanket) I’m not so sure sleep is the cure-all Applejack thinks it is.

(Down in the kitchen, Applejack is making the last adjustments to the breakfast table. This time, though, she has prepared a cake, cinnamon rolls, and cupcakes and set out a punchbowl with fish swimming around in it. Two jars, one filled with honey and the other with dog biscuits, stand off at one end. For the third time, Bloom peeks into view around the threshold, the focus shifting to her as she speaks.)

Bloom: Uh, Applejack? I know you said sleep is supposed to make me feel better, but… (walking in) …I’m pretty sure it’s making me feel worse.

(The blanket falls off her head on the end of this. Cut to Applejack, her hat suddenly gone.)

Applejack: See? Now what did I tell you? (Bloom moves closer and stops; only head and forelegs are in frame.) A good night’s sleep’ll fix—

(Stop short. Eyes pop.)

Applejack: (confusedly) Well, no wonder you were so worked up. (Back to Bloom; the blanket has fallen off her entirely.)

Bloom: Wh—didn’t you hear what I said? I was tryin’ to—

Granny Smith: (from o.s., thoughtfully) Weeeeell…

(On the start of the next line, zoom out to show the youngest Apple now standing on a bare table. Applejack and Granny are eying her skeptically from opposite sides, the former with her hat back on.)

Granny: …what do we have here?

Bloom: What is it, Granny? What’s wrong?

Granny: Oh, nothin’. Right, Applejack?

Bloom: (backing away slightly; hat gone) Right. Nothin’ at all. (addressing herself o.s.) Right, Big Mac?

(The camera follows the turn of Bloom’s head to another side of the table, where the workhorse stands facing the wall. After a long pause, he turns to her.)

Macintosh: Truth is, Apple Bloom, it’s your… (disgustedly) …cutie mark.        

Applejack: Ee-yup.

(Now Bloom’s haunch can be seen for the first time since her wake-up: a cross-eyed dolphin spouting water from its blowhole.)

Bloom: Oh, no! (peering at it) What is it now?

(Her eyes constrict in terror at the sight of it, and the view fades quickly to black, accompanied by the clunk of a switch being thrown. A second clunk flicks on a spotlight that picks out a very, very confused Bloom, now seated on her haunches atop a stool. Zoom out as the other three Apple family members pace slowly around her, staying just beyond the light’s edge. Applejack wears her hat again. All remaining lines in this act reverberate slightly.)

Macintosh: Well, I can tell you what it ain’t. It ain’t no apple!

Granny: Nn-nope.

Bloom: (aghast) What?!? (Applejack leans in toward her, hat off.)

Applejack: (Macintosh’s voice) And we don’t have room for…non-Apples. (Macintosh leans in, wearing the hat.)

Macintosh: (Applejack’s voice) Nn-nope. (Granny’s turn.)

Granny: (Macintosh’s voice) Time for you to mosey on. (Close-up of the dumbfounded Bloom; she/he continues o.s.) You can’t stay here.

Bloom: But this is my home!

(Zoom out to frame all of her as the living room fades into view around her and a bindle on a stick appears on one shoulder. She regards this with great puzzlement; cut to Macintosh, now hatless and standing against a background that shows a couple of snapshots of family events in which Bloom’s face has been covered by a splotch of paint.)

Macintosh: (smirking) Oh, and you’re gonna have to change your name. (Pan to Granny.)

Granny: Ee-yep. (On to Macintosh again.)

Macintosh: I think just “Bloom” has a nice ring to it. Don’t you, Applejack? (Cut to Applejack, with her hat and standing at the front door.)

Applejack: Ee-yup.

(Pulling the knob with her teeth, she opens it to expose a spiraling blue/black void beyond the walls. Zoom out quickly to put a terror-stricken Bloom in the fore; the camera rides with her as she is sucked out into this nothingness, slowly dropping into its depths.)

Bloom: (fading out) NOOOOOOOOO!!

(Fade to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to a patch of floor next to Bloom’s bed. A large wad of blankets thumps to the floor and begins to squirm madly—she is tangled up inside, and she gets her head and forelegs free with a grunt after a few seconds. Zoom out to frame the morning sky visible through her bedroom window as Pinkie floats past it, dressed as a chicken and with a bunch of balloons tied to her midsection. The pink nut crows like the family rooster.)

Bloom: (fed up) All right. This is getting ridiculous!

(She turns her eyes across the room, the camera following to stop on a free-standing mirror near the dresser. Approaching it with infinite caution, she squeezes her eyes shut and then opens one just a fraction to inspect her right haunch—nothing there.)

Bloom: (walking away) Hoo-wee! I never thought I’d be so happy to not get a cutie mark!

(The turn exposes one on the left haunch, though: an ice cream cone. She only notices it after a few steps, then freezes in her tracks.)

Bloom: What the—

(A half-turn presents a gleaming white tooth that has appeared on her right haunch, and the next shows a serving of French fries on her left in place of the cone. One last pivot, and she finds that the tooth has been replaced by her own face. This winks in close-up; the room behind Bloom darkens and warps slightly, and ghostly images of cutie marks begin to swirl around her. With her unnerved visage as the only properly lit feature of the room, she finally comes up with a supremely frustrated growl.)

Bloom: (batting marks away) I don’t want to see another cutie mark as long as I live!

(Normal light and dimensions resume with a cut to the bedroom door as she gallops out, her mark having changed to a door. Back in the forest clearing, she skids to a stop and looks behind herself—showing her mark now gone—to find that the laws of normal space have apparently taken a long lunch. Namely: a doorway has appeared among the trees, leading directly back to her room. This promptly seals itself, and the wind-carried female voice speaks up.)

Female voice: Back so soon?

Bloom: All right, whoever you are! (advancing across clearing) I don’t know what spell you went and cast on me, but I want it to stop right now! (She ends this line at a gallop.)

Female voice: I didn’t cast a spell, on you or anypony else. I only did what you wanted. (Bloom skids to a stop with a growl.)

Bloom: Why would I want you to torment me with nightmares?

(The wind kicks up, the camera tracking slowly around the confounded filly.)

Female voice: You didn’t want to catch bugs, and I helped. You didn’t want to lose friends, and I helped.

(She claps hooves to temples; on the next line, the camera stops to show a lightless blur directly in front of her, with two eyes and a smiling mouth that glow a malevolent yellow. This is the source of the voice, and the thing that has been flitting among the trees on every visit.)

Dark figure: If there’s a problem with your family, I’m sure I can help with that too.         

Bloom: (galloping off) I don’t want your help! Just get away from me!

(She slows her headlong flight to a walk upon realizing that she has emerged into an area with rather better natural light. A very familiar, very calm voice echoes gently through the night.)

Princess Luna: (from o.s.) Oh, Apple Bloom, you can’t get away from your own shadow.

(In the night sky, a few wisps of cloud drift away from the moon, which kindles to a blinding intensity from which a form emerges, its face covered by two blue-violet wings. As the light fades back to normal, the Princess of the Night spreads them to full extension and gains a bit of altitude to gaze tranquilly down at Bloom.)

Bloom: Princess Luna? My shadow? What do you mean?

(Luna responds by directing a spell at the great orb, shifting it higher in the sky. The new angle causes the grinning specter to retreat toward ground level, its face slowly fading away, and Bloom sees it resolve into her own innocuous shadow.)

Bloom: It’s just me? (Overhead shot of her.) You mean I’ve been doin’ all this to myself?

Luna: (from o.s.) Of course, Apple Bloom. It’s your dream.

Bloom: If I’ve been dreamin’ this whole time— (Luna descends toward her.) —why don’t I just wake up?

Luna: Sometimes we can worry about a thing so much that fear can make us feel like we’re trapped in a nightmare.

(She emphasizes the end of this by covering her face with her wings, then pulls them away and casts a blinding spell that whites out the screen. Fade in to a close-up of Bloom, now standing among a field of stars and seen in a slightly soft focus. Zoom out on the start of the next line; she and Luna are on a walkway of stars stretching through the cosmos. Both voices echo in the space.)

Luna: I don’t suppose there’s anything you’re particularly afraid of, is there?

Bloom: (reluctantly, head drooping) Yeah. (Close-up.) I guess I’m pretty worried about gettin’ my cutie mark.

Luna: (from o.s.) Well… (Cut to her.) …that is the same as worrying about who you are. (lifting a wing to show her crescent moon) That is all a cutie mark is. If you cannot accept who you are…

(Back to Bloom, now very far down in the dumps and getting thoroughly rained on.)

Luna: (from o.s.) …your life might seem like a bad dream.

(Longer shot of them. The offending cloud is a small gray one directly above the soggy head, and tiny lightning crackles down from it.)

Bloom: But— (Luna gently blows it away.) —if I like who I am— (She instantly dries out.) —do you think other ponies will too?

Luna: (patting Bloom’s head) Of course. (An idea hits home.)

Bloom: Then it doesn’t matter what my cutie mark is!

Luna: Indeed.

Bloom: (hoof to face) But that’s so simple! I must be the only pony in the universe that’s worried about her cutie mark.

Luna: (knowingly) Oh, I wouldn’t say that.

(Two rows of doors instantly rush up from the measureless distance to line both sides of the walkway. One swings open, exposing pure white light beyond, and the camera zooms in to this. Fade in to three ponies—Rarity, DJ P0N-3, and Octavia—seated behind a table and framed in normal focus. The last of these is the gray earth pony cellist mare who has appeared from time to time, and whose human counterpart appeared in Rainbow Rocks. A longer shot of this area puts them facing an empty stage on which a microphone has been set up under the spotlights. Sweetie puts her head out from the wings and nervously makes her way to this. Letting out a sigh, she smiles brightly, takes hold of the mic, and inhales deeply to sing.)

(Before she can get out even one note, though, the camera cuts to an extreme close-up of her haunch and a flash of light plays across it. When it subsides, she has her cutie mark—a broom and bucket. Tilt up to reveal that the mic has become a broom she is holding upside down; her face contorts into a horrified grimace, and the three mares are not at all impressed. They hold up score cards—0 for DJ P0N-3 and Octavia, 1 for Rarity; the two unicorns float theirs up, while the earth pony uses her hooves. Onstage, a janitor stallion walks over to Sweetie and sets down the bucket whose handle he has been carrying in his teeth, to her great dismay. Evidently a life as a cleanup specialist was not in her master plan. Fade to white.)

(Fade in to Bloom on the walkway. A different door opens behind her, also revealing an intense white brilliance, and she turns toward it as the camera zooms in through the doorway. Fade in from the pure light to an insanely tall ski jump ramp, constructed in the middle of a plain and framed in a normal focus. The black speck of a figure can just be discerned at the top, and a close-up reveals it as Scootaloo. She has donned a starry purple cape and gloves, and she gets a matching helmet and eyeshade adjusted just so on her noggin. She steps onto her trusty scooter; extreme close-up of the handlebars as she gets a grip, then zoom out to frame her grim-set face. Her wings spread and begin to buzz, the cape shifting away from them, and she kicks off from the starting line.)

(Scootaloo and her vehicle sail forward into empty space and drop into a gravity-fueled charge, straight and true down the center of the ramp. Comes a flash across her haunch, and she now has her cutie mark—of a wire whisk mixing a bowl of batter. A poof turns her helmet/eyeshade into a white chef’s toque, and an instant later she is riding a giant hand-cranked eggbeater down the slope and has lost the rest of her daredevil outfit. The tool has two cranks, positioned to act as unicycle pedals under her hooves. The little pegasus screams the rest of the way down the ramp and through her jump off the end, describing a graceless end-over-end flip that drops her into a canyon full of batter. She manages to surface, pedaling furiously and trying in vain to keep her head above the rapidly rising tide. Finally she submerges as the gunk fills the screen.)

(Dissolve to Bloom, staring worriedly through the dream door and backing slowly away from it.)

Bloom: Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle are havin’ nightmares too?

Luna: It’s been a busy night for us all. But I think it’s time to bring it to a close.

(She conjures up one more door, which appears facing the pair from a few yards down the starry walkway. Cut to the interior of the clubhouse, its door matching the design of this one; it opens, and Bloom and Luna step inside from the space beyond. Pan quickly to Scootaloo and Sweetie near the lectern, both back to their normal, unmarked selves .Normal focus resumes at this point, and the voices of Luna and Bloom no longer echo in here.)

Scootaloo, Sweetie: (waving happily) Princess Luna!

Luna: (crossing to them with Bloom) I know you’ve all had a lot on your minds tonight. But I think Apple Bloom has something she’d like to share before you wake.

Sweetie: (puzzled) We’re still asleep? (Scootaloo gets her wings going and easily rises off the floor.)

Scootaloo: Cool!

(She does a few loop-the-loops, the last one carrying her past the lectern before Bloom stands up behind it.)

Bloom: Well, I guess I should call this dream meetin’ of the Cutie Mark Crusaders to order.

(Scootaloo touches down, and Bloom taps her hoof against the gavel block—which squishes as if made of rubber and gives a honking sound. Cut to Luna, stifling a giggle at the joke she has pulled; the camera shifts to frame all four on the first part of the next line.)

Bloom: I know we all got pretty anxious when we found out Babs got her cutie mark, but I for one don’t want to have nightmares every night from now until we get ours.

Scootaloo: (as she and Sweetie shake their heads) Me neither.

Bloom: And even though we’re all a little scared, a cutie mark won’t change who we are or how everypony feels about us.

Sweetie: It’s lucky we’re all scared of the same things. That way we can help and remind each other to just be who we are.

(She winks to Scootaloo and high-fives her on the end of this.)

Luna: And when the day comes that you all finally get your cutie marks— (smiling) —you can be sure they’ll fit you to a T. (Bloom pops up next to her.)

Bloom: Exactly!        

Scootaloo: Do you fillies think that Babs is worried or scared about some of this stuff? (Bloom is back at the lectern; all three Crusaders think for a moment.)

Bloom: I know! Let’s put together a care package for her!

Sweetie: That way she’ll know she isn’t alone! (Scootaloo nods.)

Bloom: We wouldn’t want her to think that just because she isn’t a Crusader, we can’t still be friends.

(Smiles give way to unsettled looks, and the three young pairs of eyes turn toward the camera.)

Bloom: But, uh…

(Zoom out. The entire clubhouse is floating and rotating slowly in the ethereal realm, one entire wall gone, and the next two lines echo across the parsecs.)

Bloom: …maybe we should wait until we wake up.

Luna: Good idea.

(She makes with the magic, filling the screen with her spell’s white glow.)

(Fade in to a close-up of Bloom as she sits up in bed with a gasp. A look around herself, the rooster’s crowing of the morning, and she whips down the blanket for a good hard look at her haunch. Nothing there but light yellow coat hair, exactly as it was when all of this surreal subconscious madness began. She smiles, standing up to all fours and proudly showing it off, then flops back down with a relieved sigh.)

(Cut to a close-up of a plate loaded with plain pancakes on the kitchen table. Two more are dropped onto the stack; zoom out to frame Macintosh and Granny standing at the table, the stallion licking his chops expectantly. Bloom steps up to the threshold, this time advancing far enough to put her haunch in view.)

Same style/key/tempo as the Act One lullaby

(The next words bring a smile to Bloom’s face; zoom out to frame Applejack at the stove, working two griddles.)

Applejack:                 There ain’t no call to worry, so don’t you cry or fret

(A flick at one handle catapults another pancake toward the table; Bloom walks in.)

Bloom:                A cutie mark won’t change me, no matter what I get

Song ends

Applejack: (flipping pancake from other griddle) Well, it sure looks like somepony’s feelin’ better. (Bloom reaches the table.)

Bloom: You have no idea. (Applejack joins her.)

Applejack: See? Now what did I tell you? A good night’s sleep cures just about everythin’.

(Bloom’s eyes pop in fearful surprise on the end of this—realizing that she has been on the receiving end of words very similar to these—but she manages a weak smile.)

Bloom: I guess so. I just wish it hadn’t been so exhaustin’.

(She helps herself to a pancake, taking no note of the thoroughly perplexed looks that pass among the other three Apples. Granny allows herself a smile before the view fades to black.)


TANKS FOR THE MEMORIES

 

Written by Cindy Morrow

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by M.A. Larson

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Directed by Jim Miller

 

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

 

 

Prologue

 

(Opening shot: fade in to a patch of quiet blue sky and tilt down to follow Rainbow Dash in her high-speed flight toward Ponyville. Her pet tortoise Tank is out for a leisurely aerial cruise above the houses, propeller and goggles strapped on. She rockets by him fast enough to leave him spinning in place, then doubles back to gather him up and point into the sky.)

 

Rainbow: Look at that, Tank.

 

(Cut to a long shot of Cloudsdale, floating at a considerable altitude, and zoom out to frame pony and reptile on the start of the next line. The city hovers in the far distance, out past Twilight Sparkle’s castle.)

 

Rainbow: (excitedly) Cloudsdale’s here! That means Ponyville is next up for winter!

 

(Letting go, she turns her eyes in a different direction. Cut to the upper reaches of a stretch of trees whose leaves have turned the red/gold/brown of autumn. A tremor sets the foliage to falling, and a tilt down reveals the source: a multitude of ponies barreling through these woods and wearing numbered placards over their cutie marks. The Running of the Leaves has come to Whitetail Wood, as seen in “Fall Weather Friends.”)

 

(A tumble of leaves fills the screen, which clears to give a head-on shot of the racers. Rainbow pulls in above them.)

 

Rainbow: You’re doing awesome, everypony! Keep it up! (pointing to one side, then the other) We need those leaves off those trees!

 

(Tank cruises along, stopping next to a cloud on which she alights.)

 

Rainbow: (to him) Once we get autumn cleared away— (sitting on haunches) —it’ll be hel-loooo, winter!

 

(To which her animal companion responds with a cavernous yawn, throwing her for a loop.)

 

Rainbow: (suspiciously) Was that a yawn I just saw? (He does it again; she gets in his face and grabs him animatedly.) How can you be tired when the most exciting time of the year is right around the corner? And don’t forget the best part! (twirling him/letting go; he spins away) Our first winter together!

 

(The whirling trajectory settles into a slow descent; now really concerned, she drops to his level.)

 

Rainbow: (lifting his head) Come on, wake up! (pointing to pegasi towing clouds) Once those ponies bring in the big fat clouds full of snowflakes— (now hovering separately from Tank) —we’ll have a ton of snow for our extreme sledding!

 

(Tilt down quickly, the view fading to white and then in to a white-ringed view of mare and tortoise riding side-by-side sleds down a white-blanketed slope. She laughs and lets off a long, ecstatic whoop as they cross paths both before and after passing a tree, and the two trade a high five once they are in the clear. From here, dissolve to an extreme close-up of the lethargic green face, eyes starting to drift closed for a snooze, and zoom out quickly as Rainbow eagerly points him elsewhere.)

 

Rainbow: (pointing) And over there, we can play horse hockey— (Long shot of a pond; she continues o.s.) —with no shoulder or rump pads!

 

(During this line, a dissolve changes the view to a winter-wonderland version of the pond, now frozen over and with a hockey net placed on the ice near one end. Tank stands in front of this—goalie duty—while Rainbow skates toward him, dribbling a hockey puck by means of the stick in her teeth. She is kitted out in a jersey and helmet, and she takes a shot, which Tank blocks by clamping his jaws onto the puck. This shot picks out the oversized face mask he wears, with the central portion cut away to make room for a face guard so he can push his head through. The sound of a cheering crowd accompanies Rainbow’s charge and intensifies when Tank blocks and smiles around the puck, cocking an eyebrow.)

 

(Another dissolve brings the view back to the sleepy-eyed tortoise. He snaps his head up with a weak smile that reassures Rainbow for only a moment when the camera cuts to her. On the start of the next line, zoom out to frame Twilight flying over to her.)

 

Twilight: Everything’s looking great, don’t you think?

Rainbow: Almost everything. (pointing ahead) Does Tank look all right to you?

 

(Back to Tank on the end of this; he is now rotating slowly in place and letting off a fresh yawn.)

 

Twilight: Well, he does seem to be moving a little slowly.

Rainbow: I know, right? (Close-up of Tank’s drowsy expression.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) And he looks kinda sleepy. (Back to the two mares.)

Rainbow: Totally!

Twilight: (smiling) Just like he always does.

Rainbow: (forcing a smile) Yeah. (Chuckle.) I-I’m sure you’re right.

 

(Twilight flies off, leaving the lethargic, yawning shellback to drift past his discomfited owner. She grimaces to herself, the view zooming in slowly on her before fading to black.)

 

 

OPENING THEME

 

 

Act One

 

(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of Fluttershy hunched down to Tank, who has been set upright. She has the business end of a stethoscope in her teeth and is holding it against the underside of his shell, while the earpieces are plugged into her ears. As the camera zooms out to frame these two in her cottage, with Rainbow watching anxiously, there is no sound but Tank’s slow, ponderous heartbeat. The zoom shows that he is sitting upright on a pillow that rests on the floor, stripped of his flying gear.)

 

Rainbow: (impatiently) Well? (Fluttershy stands up, letting the end drop from her mouth.)

Fluttershy: (removing stethoscope) I suppose his heartbeat could be a teensy-weensy-eensy bit slower than usual.

Rainbow: Okay, so give him a vitamin or something!

 

(Both glance in his direction; cut to the green slowpoke, now snoring happily where he sits. He topples over sideways after a moment and settles onto his belly in short order.)

 

Fluttershy: I don’t think he needs that.

Rainbow: Maybe we’re just staying up too late. (hunching down to Tank) Uh, too many Daring Do stories. (She pats his head with an unsteady grin, nibbling her bottom lip.)

Fluttershy: Oh, that’s not it either. (Rainbow rises to her haunches and frantically swivels to face Fluttershy.)

Rainbow: Well, what’s wrong with him, then?!?

Fluttershy: Nothing. He’s perfectly fine.

 

(The flying ace comes up with a relieved smile and sigh and relaxes against Tank.)

 

Fluttershy: He’s just going to hibernate.

 

(There goes the moment of ease; Rainbow gets back on her hooves and leans into Fluttershy’s face.)

 

Rainbow: You do realize he’s not a bear, right?

 

(This prompts a giggle from the animal caretaker. Cut to a full bookcase and zoom out on the start of the next line to frame her crossing to it.)

 

Fluttershy: When the weather grows cold and less food is available, many animals hibernate to conserve energy.

 

(Standing up to her hind legs, she nips a book down from a high shelf with her teeth; close-up of this as it lands on the rug. On the cover is a sleeping squirrel, its long tail curled around it in a circle and its head resting on a pillow. Fluttershy reaches into view and opens the cover.)

 

Fluttershy: (from o.s., flipping pages) It’s like taking a really long nap during winter.

 

(The turn exposes pictures of two sleeping animal families—rabbits on the left page, bears on the right—and she shifts the book’s position as she finishes. From here, cut to Fluttershy and Rainbow standing over it on opposite sides.)

 

Fluttershy: And then they wake up in spring… (Page turn.) …and see? Even tortoises do it.

 

(Close-up of one page, whose picture bears out this assertion.)

 

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) When the time comes, Tank will leave and dig into the ground. (Back to the two; zoom out to put Tank in the fore. Yawn.) But don’t worry. (laying a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder) He’ll reappear when the spring sun warms the ground back up.

 

(Even this touch does nothing whatsoever to put Rainbow at ease; she slaps the hoof away.)

 

Rainbow: Come on! Tortoises don’t hibernate! Somepony put that picture in there as a joke.

 

(Close-up of the book on the end of this; she reaches into view and slams it shut.)

 

Fluttershy: (picking it up) It’s not a joke.

Rainbow: (testily) Well, then your book must be wrong. (She clomps off.)

Fluttershy: Rainbow Dash…

 

(Across the room, the daredevil has already put Tank’s goggles back on him and is cinching the propeller’s strap around his shell.)

 

Fluttershy: (crossing to them, no longer carrying book) …Tank needs to hibernate. It’s healthy for him, just like sleeping is healthy for us.

Rainbow: (laughing dismissively) Whatever. (flicking prop; it spins to life) Okay, thanks. (Tank lifts off.) Come on, Tank.

 

(She walks off, completely missing the fact that the tortoise has begun to navigate slowly in the exact opposite direction. After a couple of very long seconds, she flies back into view, grabs him, and exits again.)

 

Fluttershy: Where are you going? (Rainbow has paused at a doorway.)

Rainbow: (flying out through it) To get a second opinion from a real reptile expert.

 

(The yellow pegasus mulls this over worriedly in close-up. A dissolve frames an equally flummoxed Spike and the stopped propeller directly in front of his face; his mood quickly shifts to one of annoyance.)

 

Spike: I told you, Rainbow Dash, I’m a dragon!

 

(Zoom out slightly to show both creatures sitting on a small wooden table, the tortoise snoring blissfully and without his goggles. The wall behind them has some rough crystal facets, suggesting that it is part of Twilight’s castle.)

 

Rainbow: (from o.s.) Come on!

 

(Cut to frame all three and more of the room. Bookshelves set in the far wall; basket of gems on the floor; painting hung near the table; cushioned stool on the floor close by; small multicolored jewels set into the walls here and there. Rainbow hovers in front of Spike and Tank.)

 

Rainbow: You’re practically twins!

 

(Her eager-beseeching smile is met by a very sour look from the baby dragon, who glances briefly at the somnolent Tank before speaking.)

 

Spike: (dryly) I’m purple.

Rainbow: (scowling) But if you don’t have to hibernate, why should Tank?

Spike: Because he’s a tortoise, and I’m a dragon! (She whisks over behind the table and puts a hoof to each set of shoulders.)

Rainbow: Same family, though, right? (He stands up, having had enough of this.)

Spike: No!

Rainbow: I’ll take that as a yes.

Spike: (groaning, crossing/jumping down) Look. (Cut to him, pacing the floor.) If Fluttershy says tortoises hibernate, then I guarantee tortoises hiber—(She flies over to him, carrying Tank.)

Rainbow: Well, what would you know? (pointing accusingly) You’re a dragon!

 

(Cut to a still longer shot of this room, framing a bed at the far end—styled after his old basket, but larger—and a few other decorative features. This is his bedroom within the castle. The vexed pegasus flies out with her pet, slamming the door behind herself and leaving one very confused dragon in her wake. Outside, one of the front double doors opens and Rainbow wings into the open air by herself, stopping to hover above the steps leading up to them.)

 

Rainbow: Nopony knows you like I do, Tank. (Close-up.) All you need is some hard work to get the old blood pumping.

 

(On the end of this, pan back to the doors. Here comes the low-gear aviator, goggles on and snoring all over again—and bumping his head against the still-closed door. Once…twice…and then Rainbow impatiently grabs him.)

 

Rainbow: Come on!

 

(She hauls him away from both the castle and Ponyville proper at her usual ridiculous speed. Dissolve to a squad of pegasi moving clouds from high, distant Cloudsdale to a plain marked by a runway. A tilt up takes the camera past several others on the job; stop on Rainbow, pushing a cloud slowly through the sky and followed by Tank.)

 

Rainbow: (slightly out of breath) These things are heavy. (smiling) Chock full of snowflakes! (Close-up.) We’re gonna have such a killer time in the snow, Tank!

 

(A look back over her shoulder wipes the smile off her face; she glances anxiously around herself in all directions.)

 

Rainbow: Tank?

 

(Groundside: he has landed, stopped his propeller, and slowly begun to scratch a hole in the dirt among the leafless trees. He sinks into this as two ponies arrive on the scene—Pinkie Pie and Rainbow on hooves and wings, respectively.)

 

Rainbow: Tank!

Pinkie: (baby talk, flopping down in front of him) Awww, lookit the cute widdle Tankie all snuggly-wuggly, getting ready to hiberna—

 

(The sky-blue mare swoops down and scoops “Tankie” up, startling Pinkie upright.)

 

Rainbow: Don’t say that word!

Pinkie: Which one? “Snuggly”? “Wuggly”? “Tankie”? “Hibernate”? (Rainbow corks her mouth with a hoof.)

Rainbow: That one! (Pinkie pushes the hoof away.)

Pinkie: I was just saying how cute he— (Rainbow leans into her face.)

Rainbow: If you think hiber… (backing off) …you know, that napping thing, is so cute— (hustling her off) —why don’t you go do it? Somewhere far away from here!

 

(Rainbow’s infuriated glare after her turns into a puzzled one aimed toward the camera, and Pinkie is quick to return and add a look of cheery inquisitiveness. The view cuts to their perspective of Twilight, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity caught very much by surprise. A bag of winter clothing lies on the ground among these four; Twilight is levitating a pile of fallen leaves, while Applejack stops her efforts to rake up more of them. Fluttershy is putting a hat on a beaver’s head, and Rarity has another in her magic. Back to Pinkie and Rainbow, the latter with her dander up again.)

 

Rainbow: What are you looking at? Pinkie Pie and I are just having a conversation! (High overhead, a pegasus moves a cloud.)

Twilight: Look, Rainbow Dash. We all know how upset you are about Tank hiber— (Pinkie zips across and leans into her face.)

Pinkie: Shhhh! (taking cover behind her) Don’t say that word! That’s what started this all!

Twilight: We know how upset you are about Tank. But you shouldn’t take your anger out on your friends.

Rainbow: (hovering/flitting erratically) Who said anything about anger?!? I didn’t say anything about anger! I’m not upset, and I am not angry! Do I look angry?!?

 

(The half-deranged scowl that takes hold on her face makes this the king daddy of all rhetorical questions. Stunned silence from the others as she spins Tank’s propeller to life.)

 

Rainbow: Come on, Tank! (He sluggishly lifts off.) Let’s get outta here!

 

(Pony and pet zoom away, leaving the other five to trade glances that betray their deep concern for both. Dissolve to a long shot of Rainbow’s cloud house floating in the now-overcast sky and zoom in slowly.)

 

Rainbow: (voice over) I need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed…

 

(Cut to a close-up of Tank standing on a patch of floor inside, his flying gear removed.)

 

Rainbow: (from o.s.) …not sleepy-eyed and scaly-tailed! (He lowers his head dejectedly; cut to frame her standing in front of him.) Which is exactly what you are. (standing briefly up to hind legs) But get up anyway!

 

(Nothing doing, if the yawn he uncorks is any indication.)

 

Rainbow: You can’t hiber— (catching herself) —you know. What about all the primo things we’re gonna do together this winter? Building snow ponies… (leaning down to him) …starting snowball fights…sipping hot cider by the fire…

 

(A loud snore from the tortoise snaps her out of her happy reverie; she shoots him a dirty look and gets upright.)

 

Rainbow: Don’t you want to do those things with me?

 

(Turning his head toward her, he gives a smile and nod; after a moment’s thought, she crosses the room to regard her image in a mirror.)

 

Rainbow: Think, Rainbow Dash, think! Tank’s only hibernating because it’s cold, right?

 

(She turns away from the glass, the camera zooming out to frame the snoozing Tank as her eyes fix on him. The mirror is attached to a dresser—this is her bedroom.)

 

Rainbow: (starting to get an idea) Well, I’d rather have him awake in the heat than asleep in the cold.

 

(Here comes the brainstorm, as evidenced by her popping eyes and happy gasp.)

 

Rainbow: I’ll just have to stop winter!

 

(Rubbing her front hooves together, she lets her smile elongate into an unsettling, ear-to-ear arc. Zoom in slowly and snap to black.)

 

 

Act Two

 

(Opening shot: fade in to two pegasi pushing a cloud into position. They get it situated and fly off as two others, a mare and a stallion, each bring in one of their own.)

 

Mare 1: So, where do these clouds go?

Stallion: Over by clear skies.

Mare 1: But there’s clear skies everywhere. (Another mare flies up between these two.)

Mare 2: Yo! Clear Skies right here!

 

(Whether the stallion was referring to her or to the weather condition is left up for grabs.)

 

Mare 1: (pointing) But there’s clear skies over there too.

Mare 2 (Clear Skies): That’s open skies.

Mare 1: (exasperated) There’s open skies everywhere!

Stallion: I’m not everywhere, I’m right here!

 

(So his name must be Open Skies.)

 

Mare 1: (sighing, gesturing to each in turn) Wait. So, you’re Open Skies, and you’re Clear Skies. (indicating vicinity) Then what’s all that?

Stallion (Open), Clear: Open clear skies!

(While this exchange is going on, Rainbow takes advantage of the confusion to sneak in and steal all three clouds from behind them without being noticed. Only at this point do they take stock of the theft.)

 

Open: Hey! Where’d our fluffy clouds go?

Clear: (pointing) Fluffy Clouds? He’s over there!

 

(Which he is—a bucktoothed blue pegasus, waving stupidly in the trio’s direction. His white mane/tail are fully fluffed out, and he wears an orange bow tie and sports a cutie mark of three clouds. From here, cut to Rainbow, stuffing one of the swiped vapor masses into a tree trunk’s knothole as Tank hovers nearby, prop and goggles on.)

 

Rainbow: Hah! Stopping winter is gonna be a breeze.

 

(One last buck to wedge the thing into the trunk, and she and the tortoise zoom away. Here comes an earth pony stallion pushing a pile of leaves along the ground with his head, just in time for the cloud to burst out and cover him and several square feet of woodland with a snowdrift. Getting his head clear of the white onslaught, he aims two very confused eyes toward the camera.)

 

Rock melody, guitar/drums/bass, fast 4 (D flat major)

Backing organ in at start of first verse

 

(Rainbow carries Tank over another patch of forest being cleared of leaves, then above a Ponyville street. Here, unicorns have baskets of icicles slung on their backs and are magically attaching them to tree branches and overhangs. Flying higher, the speedster sees other pegasi bucking clouds to produce snowfall and darts from one cover spot to the next to keep them under surveillance.)

 

Rainbow:                       When life gives you lemons

                                        You can make lemonade

(hugging Tank)                But life gave me Tank here

                                        And my choice has long been made

 

Organ out; backing strings in

 

(A swoop down, and she has deposited him near a tree and begun to stomp on frozen puddles, breaking their icy scrims.)

 

Rainbow:                       No winter will come to Ponyville

(gathering up skis, pulling up a section of ground like a rug and shoving them underneath)

                                        I’ll do it on my own

(hugging Tank; his head flops drowsily to one side)

I will keep you by my side

                                        So I will not be alone

 

(Liftoff, leaving him spinning in place on the turf. Now, wearing a fake beak, she bumps aside the lead duck in a migrating formation and takes its place, then checks a compass—heading due south.)

 

Rainbow:                           And I’ll fly, and I’ll fly

                                        Into the end of the sky

(A hard turn brings the birds around 180 degrees, so that the compass now indicates north. She peels out, allowing the original leader to resumes its place, and waves to them before pulling off the beak with a cunning grin and clearing off.)

                                        So I’ll be the one

                                        Who doesn’t have to say goodbye

 

(Snap to white, which is immediately plowed off this way and that by Rainbow to expose blue sky—a giant cloud bank, of which only one tuft remains to block the sun.)

 

Rainbow:                       I’ll clear the skies forever

(A loop around allows her to punch it apart from behind.)

                                        So we won’t be apart

(Below, Tank rests on a snowy stretch; she flies a multicolored whirlwind around him, clearing the ground down to sand. He ends up sitting on a beach chair under an umbrella, with a pail and shovel nearby, and a starfish protrudes from the instant tropic surface. Both Rainbow and Tank end up wearing sunglasses, hers with louvered lenses, and she sports a T-shirt and board shorts while applying suntan lotion to Tank’s shell. He is out of his flying gear.)

                                        I’ll keep the weather warm for you

                                        And the winter will never start

 

Strings out; organ in at start of next verse

 

(The leathery mouth opens wide in a yawn, catching her off guard, and the resumption of the pegasus-induced snowfall does nothing to improve her mood. Now out of her beach apparel, she flies up to their level and gets one after another to abandon their posts with a few misdirecting gestures.)

 

Rainbow:                       Weather makers, pegasi

                                        You make the seasons in the sky

(Extreme close-up of one cloud, zooming out. She has set up eight of them in a vertical circle around it, and the air currents from their flapping wings are causing the falling snow to loop back around and be re-absorbed into the cloud. Allowing herself a devious smile, she has to bite down on her lower lip to keep from laughing.)

                                        I don’t want to sabotage you

                                        But you see, I’ve got to try

 

Organ out; strings in

 

(Dissolve to the sun shining high overhead; a magnifying glass is raised into view in a blue hoof. The solar radiation pours through it in a concentrated beam.)

 

Rainbow:                       No winter can come here now

(It is falling on a circular spot just big enough to cover Tank, once again wearing his equipment. He wakes up from his half-doze and begins to lumber up to his feet.)

                                        I’ll keep the warmth and the sun somehow

(Behind Rainbow, two pegasi bring in fresh clouds—hiding the sun, causing him to nod off again, and irking her considerably.)

                                        I’m sorry, ponies, this has to be

                                        For I need my friend and he needs me

 

(Dissolve to her, carrying a hoof-load of leaves and sticking them back onto bare tree branches at a breakneck pace.)

 

Rainbow:                       I know it’s wrong, but what does it matter?

                                        ’Cause nothing’s gonna stop me now

(The stallion she buried with her exploding cloud wanders through the area, trying mightily to make any sense of this bizarre development. He has donned a nice warm hat in order to be ready for the season change. Elsewhere, Cherry Berry and Daisy work on a snow pony as Caramel makes his way past, snowshoes strapped to all four hooves.)

                                        I’ll change it all, it’s only the weather

(One rainbow-hued whirlwind later, the two mares are decked out in sun hats and shades, and cold drinks have been placed on the now-grassy spot in front of them. Daisy stands on a picnic blanket adorned with Princess Celestia’s cutie mark, and Caramel is encircled by a low wall of snow. All three are slightly put out by the climate shift.)

                                        And nopony’s gonna bring me down

(Rainbow carves a cloud into a heart shape and plows through it from behind, carrying Tank.)

I’ll keep the sunlight shining free

(A fast dive, punching others away, and a hug for her pet.)

                                        And I’ll bust the clouds apart

                                        So you can stay with me

 

(Blue front hooves seize green front legs, and the two whirl through the wild blue yonder.)

 

Rainbow:                       And I’ll fly, and I’ll fly

                                        Into the end of the sky

(Not even this bit of acrobatics is enough to shake Tank out of his latest yawn.)

                                        So I’ll be the one

                                        Who doesn’t have to say goodbye

(She tows him on an aerial sprint, tosses him ahead, and catches his forelegs.)

                                        I’ll clear the skies forever

                                        So we won’t be apart

(hugging him)                  I’ll keep the weather warm for you

                                        And the winter will never start

 

(Rising in a slow vertical corkscrew above the snow-dotted landscape, she goes into an equally leisurely descent and touches down on her hind legs along a forest path. Tank, held by one foreleg, lolls sleepily alongside before falling loose and going over flat.)

 

Song ends

 

(Here comes a monster yawn that snaps his owner out of her mental paradise. She drops to all fours and glares down at him, only to be distracted by the next voice.)

 

Mare 1: (from o.s.) Here comes the next shipment!

 

(In the sky, this one is supervising a work crew of cloud-towing pegasi.)

 

Mare 1: Move those clouds over!

 

(After she turns around to fly in their direction, the camera tilts down to show a detail of non-winged ponies hard at work clearing leaves. From here, cut to a snow-ringed, frozen pond—the one Rainbow imagined she and Tank would use for their hockey game in the prologue. Tilt up to a cloud as she flies up to perch on it with a sigh, holding him. They peek over the top edge to survey the work in progress.)

 

Rainbow: For every hoofstep back, they go three hoofsteps forward! What am I gonna do?

 

(A sprinkle of snowflakes prompts her to gaze upward, the camera following to frame snow clouds being hauled through the graying skies. Cloudsdale floats in the near distance, its rainbow arcs and waterfalls gleaming against the dreary backdrop. Up close, a massive pipe nozzle pumps out a fresh cloud, which is quickly set up to move by the attending pegasi along with other payloads. This can only be part of the output from the city’s weather factory, as seen in “Sonic Rainboom.”)

 

Rainbow: Cloudsdale. That’s it, Tank! If I can’t stop winter in Ponyville, maybe I can stop it at the source!

 

(As soon as the slow-flying reptile lifts off the cloud, she clips the free end of a leash to the strap holding his propeller on and gets moving, towing him toward the aerial metropolis. Dissolve to a row of ornate columns lining a cloud avenue; Tank flies torpidly out from behind these, just far enough to be fully in view, and Rainbow puts her head out for a quick look-see. Her dive behind one of the other columns causes him to bump into it, due to the slack in the leash, and she risks another glance out before swooping away.)

 

*** For all scenes in Cloudsdale, any mention of ponies other than Rainbow refer to pegasi. ***

 

(Cut to an open stretch of the road. A wayward cloud resting on it suddenly rises a few inches, exposing Rainbow’s hooves and the end of her tail—she is using it for cover—and scrambles after a departing mare. She has tied the free end of Tank’s leash to one of her forelegs. The cloud plunks back down flat just in time for another one not to notice as she flies overhead, then pops up to scurry a few more feet. Once the cloud settles again, Rainbow bursts out and flies off, hauling her pet. She throws herself into a tumble that brings her behind another loose cloud, but Tank hovers in full view and yawns until she drags him behind this new cover. The shriek of a steam whistle brings Rainbow’s head up as the camera zooms out; across the way, one building’s multiple sets of double doors swing open and ponies walk/fly out. The indistinct murmur of their conversation can be heard at this distance, and Rainbow smiles deviously as Tank hovers alongside.)

 

Rainbow: Lunch hour. Perfect!

 

(She pulls herself and Tank down behind the cloud just before a couple of mares pass, then hoists it up and races across the open space. Dissolve to a close-up of an air vent cover on a wall inside a room. The four screws holding it in place at the corners are eased out of their holes from the other side, and the cover goes flying thanks to a kick from a sky-blue hoof. Rainbow pokes her head and forelegs out through the opening, looks around, and drops through it as Tank advances into view. She has now buckled the free end of his leash around her midsection. At floor level, she lands in a crouch; a row of lockers is visible behind her, each door marked with a snowflake. Standing up, she tugs on Tank’s leash and catches him in one front hoof when he drops into view. A panicked glance to one side, and she quickly shuts him and herself into the one open locker on the row.)

 

(A mare and stallion walk past, both clad in the white lab coats and hard hats used by weather factory employees in “Sonic Rainboom.” This locker room, then, is somewhere within the complex. Rainbow emerges from her hiding place once they have moved far enough ahead to not see her; she has donned a coat and hat, found appropriately sized ones for Tank as well, and removed his goggles. She trots purposefully after the two ponies, pulling him along, and emerges into a broad lobby rotunda. Through an open doorway, she scopes out an adjoining room with a set of closed double doors at its far end, topped by an image of a cloud from lightning bolts emanate. Zoom in quickly to a close-up of this, then cut to the smirking blue plotter and her slightly worried—and, for once, fully awake—reptilian fellow traveler.)

 

(Cut to just inside these doors; one swings inward and she nips through, hastily closing it and putting her back to the handles. However, Tank is still on the other side; when she tries to trot forward, the leash goes taut after a few steps and halts her progress. A thump is heard as well—Tank bumping against the doors—and she shoots a dirty look over her shoulder and tugs a couple of times, with the same results. Now a good hard yank pops the doors open just long enough to let Tank fly through.)

 

(Smiling knowingly at him as he settles down to her shoulder level, she directs her attention across the room. Cut to her perspective: a large chamber whose far wall is lined with mixing tanks, dispensers, and a convoluted array of pipes. A blanket of mist or fog hangs above the entire setup. Pan slowly across the area.)

 

Rainbow: (whispering) The winter lab. We’re in, Tank! (Back to the pair.) Now we just gotta figure out a way to shut it down.

 

(She flies off, pulling him along. Cut to a small container of snow resting under a large stand-mounted magnifier on a table; its support is a jointed armature similar to that on a desk lamp. She hovers near this, peering through so that one eye appears huge due to the lens.)

 

Rainbow: (normal volume) Sabotage snowflakes? (Her perspective: extreme close-up of one.) I think we gotta go bigger than that.

 

(A different workstation; she leans into view and drops the free end of his leash—now tied into a loop—around the magnifier body and cinches it tight.)

 

Rainbow: (whispering) Wait here.

 

(She zooms off, leaving him hovering above the table. An errant turn by the tortoise causes the impromptu hitching post to tip over toward the snowflake container at this position. Cut to the upper portion of one tank; she peeks out from behind the pipe running into it, looks up, and starts to follow the spaghetti tangle of process lines across the lab. Meanwhile, Tank’s lumbering flight begins to drag the magnifier across the table.)

 

(Over by the machinery, Rainbow cruises over a stilled conveyor belt, carrying a line of cloud puffs, that runs under a set of dispenser nozzles.)

 

Rainbow: Hmmm. We could get rid of these clouds… (She picks a tuft from the one at the far end and studies it.) …but that’s still not big enough.

 

(A breath causes it to dissipate. Now she glances off elsewhere; cut to her perspective of a unit with a hemispherical glass water tank on its top. On its front panel is a dial gauge split into green, yellow, and red zones, with the needle in the green. Zoom out to frame a much larger glass vessel standing above this one and connected to it by hoses, then cut back to Rainbow.)

 

Rainbow: (pumping a hoof) Slam dunk! (Close-up of the glass; her image appears behind it.) With no water— (circling around to front) —they can’t make clouds or snow! They can’t make winter!

 

(Zoom out to frame the whole tank as she raises her forelegs in anticipatory triumph. Down at the tables, Tank manages to pull the mooring magnifier off the edge; it clunks to the floor, and he begins to drag it along all over again.)

 

Rainbow: (closing a tank valve, standing on its hose) I hate to do this to those weather ponies, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

 

(Digging in with both hind legs and bracing her forelegs against the valve body, she strains for a moment and is rewarded by the hose popping loose. Water gushes from the broken connection.)

 

Rainbow: (innocently, flying to another valve/hose) Oopsie. Looks like these were a little loose.

 

(One good buck is all she needs to bust this one off and send out a second torrent. The gauge swings into yellow and toward the leading edge of the red zone.)

 

Rainbow: (smugly) And there goes winter, down the drain.

 

(The liquid level in the tank behind her slowly creeps down as she brushes a bit of dust from one shoulder. Out on the lab floor, Tank goes into a slow climb; the joint of the magnifier’s armature catches on the handle of a wall-mounted switch and pulls it up. Electricity crackles from the contacts as the circuit closes, and the magnifier swings loose from the handle. The switch energizes a nearby fan, which begins to pull the hapless tortoise in with its powerful suction.)

 

(Over at the water reservoir, now about to drain completely, Rainbow’s chance look in his direction turns self-congratulation into utter horror in an instant. She flashes toward him with a strangled cry, losing her hard hat, and plows him aside with inches to go before he hits the whirling blades. The impact breaks the clip holding his leash to his propeller strap, with the result that the magnifier and leash get sucked into the fan, jamming it. Rainbow fails to look where she is going and slams into a barrel of snowflakes, which topples over and spills its contents. Tank is jolted out of her grip on impact; she then sits up out of the mess, entirely covered in white and with a piece of coal covering each eye.)

 

Rainbow: (panicked) I—I can’t see!

 

(She scrubs at her eyes, trying to remove the carbon chunks. Cut to an image above a closed door—a cloud sliced in half by a wind gust—and zoom out as Tank thuds to the floor and slides over to this. He makes contact ever so gently, but this is enough to knock the door ajar and release a howling windstorm from its other side, blowing it fully open and launching him across the lab again.)

 

(Rainbow has just enough time to get her eyes cleared before the gales blow all the snow off her form and threaten to peel her whole face off her skull for good measure. The hard-shell bangs squarely into that face, and the two go flying in different directions. Screaming all the way, she hits a door marked with a cloud and lightning bolt, knocks it open, and goes sailing gracelessly through to the room beyond. Visible past the doorway are rows of shelves, loaded with jars that contain lightning bolts. The door closes; cut to Rainbow in this new room, rubbing her head and groaning woozily. She snaps back to herself with an uneasy glance upward, the camera zooming out to show one jar tottering on its shelf, and has time for one terrified grimace before it falls and shatters on the floor. Cut to the lab side of this door; there is a huge sizzle of electricity, a spill of brilliant glare around the edges from the loosed lightning, and the door flies open to admit a screaming, smoking Rainbow as she is hurled across the lab. High-voltage bolts zing past as she fetches up—singed, scuffed, disheveled—against a control panel bearing a large red button. She misses this, but one bolt nails it dead center and sets the rig to sparking like mad.)

 

(The overload spreads to the cloud dispensers she checked out earlier, causing them to start pumping out clouds in overdrive. Rainbow’s jaw drops open in complete shock, and she looks up to find the end of a broken cable sparking wildly during its lazy back-and-forth swing. Thick gray mist swirls in to hide this from view; a glance elsewhere discloses the rapidly rising water level around the tank she sabotaged. Tank hovers peacefully amid the maelstrom; Rainbow flies up to grab him.)

 

Rainbow: Let’s get outta here!

 

(Once she has carried him away, the fan that became jammed on his leash and magnifier finally expels their remains from its blades and jumps straight up to twelfth gear. It bends upward 90 degrees, so that the nozzle attached to its underside now points horizontally. This begins to vacuum up every cloud in sight, and Rainbow strains with every bit of her strength to keep herself and Tank from being pulled in with them. The effort is for naught, though, and the two are dragged through to travel at uncomfortably high speed through the twisting, transparent pipeline. Into a mixer they go, then a vessel that begins to blow its welds and rivets from the repeated internal impacts.)

 

(Cut to a long shot of the factory, with a couple of ponies watching fearfully as smoke and mist pour from places they surely have no business being. Electric arcs crackle from one tower, the murk thickening greatly, and the spectators bail out as fast as their wings can carry them. Now the view shifts to a long shot of all Cloudsdale in the full grip of this wild weather breakdown; on the start of the next line, zoom out to ground level to frame Applejack watching it.)

 

Applejack: What in the name of Celestia’s goin’ on up there? (Twilight, Fluttershy, and Rarity cringe at the sight.)

Twilight: Prepare yourselves, everypony! (Close-up; zoom in slowly.) Winter is coming!

 

(Snap to black.)

 

 

Act Three

 

(Opening shot: fade in to the factory lobby, now shrouded in wayward low-altitude clouds and buffeted by the relentless wind Rainbow cut loose. One stallion tries and fails to brace his hooves on the floor against the rushing air; with a scream; he is flung away past a mare whose wings are working overtime to move her ahead. A second mare screams shrilly, and two more strain to turn a massive valve wheel mounted on top of one tank. A gauge’s trembling needle swings from green all the way to red, not even slowing down for yellow; outside the factory, the great nozzle that had been chuffing out clouds now ejects a single massive blast of snow. This zeroes in on the woods outside Ponyville, where Twilight, her friends, and a few other ponies have taken a break from their winter setup work.)

 

Twilight: Everypony, look out!

 

(All scatter as the colossal snowball bears down on home sweet home, with the heads of a screaming Rainbow and a panicked Tank protruding from the surface. Both have either removed or lost their lab coats and hard hats, and Tank is out of his flying gear. The impact comes at the outskirts of the town, generating a white mushroom cloud and accompanying shock wave that washes over the countryside and fills the screen. When the view clears, every square inch of Ponyville—and the outskirts, and the mountains standing over the horizon—has been thickly blanketed in white. At the work site, several ponies’ heads break the surface, followed by those of Twilight and all her friends, with Rainbow emerging last in a close-up. General dazed moans and rubbing of heads from all except the blue flyer, who brushes the snow off her head and commences to digging frantically around in the fresh drifts for a moment. There comes the click of her hooves striking something hard, and she extricates Tank, who has pulled his head/legs/tail into his shell. A little squeeze forces all six extremities to pop back into the light; only now does she allow herself a weak moan.)

 

Rainbow: (shakily) You okay, Tank? (He yawns into her face; she dejectedly sets him down.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Rainbow Dash! (Cut to the other five hurrying over to Rainbow.) Are you all right?

Rainbow: (sighing) No.

 

(She flops onto her back, causing the other five to trade a round of very worried looks. Dissolve to a long shot of Rainbow’s house, zooming in slowly, then cut to her bedroom. She and Tank are huddled up on her bed—she wearing a bathrobe, he a light blue shell cover with a cloud pattern and fuzzy white trim. On her rear hooves are light green slippers styled as small copies of Tank’s head. Zoom in slowly, then cut to a close-up of the down-in-the-dumps pegasus and her yawning pet. This shot is close enough to pick out the slippers he wears on his forefeet, colored and styled as little replicas of Rainbow’s head. She lays a foreleg across his shell, struggling to keep her composure; zoom out to frame the room’s closed door, which opens so that Fluttershy can put her head in. She enters, followed by Twilight/Applejack/Rarity; a second later, Pinkie enters by walking through the wall, whose cloud material seals itself behind her. Evidently the non-pegasi have had Twilight’s cloud-walking spell from “Sonic Rainboom” cast on them.)

 

Pinkie: (singsong) Knock-knock!

Fluttershy: How are you feeling, Rainbow Dash?

Rainbow: (sighing, not turning to face them) Whatever.

Rarity: (crossing to Twilight, addressing her) The poor thing looks so sad! Just what are we going to do?

Twilight: I don’t know what we can do. (Applejack steps to the bed.)

Applejack: Buck up, sugar cube. You just ain’t yourself these days.

Rainbow: Whatever. (A long beat of silence.)

Rarity: Oh…how can I say this tactfully? (Pause.) You’ve lost your sparkle, Rainbow Dash.

Pinkie: (voice breaking) I hate to say this, but…well…you’ve become…

 

(She stuffs both front hooves into her mouth, then pops up near the bed to address herself over Rainbow’s shoulder.)

 

Pinkie: (whispering) …a party pooper! (She grimaces; now Rainbow lifts her head.)

Rainbow: Didn’t you hear me? I said, “Whatever.” (Pinkie backs off.) I-I don’t know if you’re here to cheer me up or what, but I’m fine!

 

(She flops down to face away from them again.)

 

Fluttershy: Let me handle this. (firmly, stepping up) Rainbow Dash, your winter is going to be pet-less.

 

(That blunt statement hits a very tender spot, and Rainbow sits up on the bed, swiveling to face Fluttershy as the red-violet eyes pop wide open. They fill with tears just as quickly while the rest of her mounts a last-ditch effort to keep her raw emotions in check. After perhaps two seconds that feel like a week, she gives up the fight and starts crying, sobbing at the top of her lungs and clutching Tank to her chest as if that in itself could ward off the reality of nature.)

 

Rarity: (to Fluttershy) Whatever did you do that for?

Fluttershy: Because she’ll never get past this until she lets it all out.

 

(And there is evidently quite a lot of it to let out, based on her renewed wailing. Twilight flicks a glance to Applejack and uses a bit of magic to shove her across the floor to Rainbow’s bedside. The earth pony shoots a venomous glare back at the Princess, who responds with a “get on with it” gesture, and forces a small smile as she steps up.)

 

Applejack: Uh…it’s okay. Tank’ll come back in a few months. (Rainbow sits up.)

Rainbow: Months?!? (She starts crying again.) I don’t want him to go!

 

(Onto her back she goes; forelegs still hanging on to the green guy and hind legs pistoning the air like a small child throwing a tantrum. Away goes Applejack’s smile.)

 

Applejack: All right, all right. (petting Tank) There, there. (aside to Fluttershy, sourly) Nice goin’, Fluttershy. How do we get her to stop?

Fluttershy: She’s gotta be about done now. Can’t be too much left in there.

 

(The waterworks stop after a few more seconds, and Fluttershy sits on her haunches next to her grief-wracked friend.)

 

Fluttershy: Feeling better?

Rainbow: (sniffling) Uh-huh.

 

(The waterworks start right back up again after a few more seconds, and now Fluttershy’s eyes start to glisten as well.)

 

Fluttershy: Oh, you poor, poor thing.

 

(She leans her head against Rainbow’s and begins to cry; next Rarity tears up.)

 

Rarity: (voice breaking, wiping eyes) I can’t bear to see Fluttershy cry. (She crosses to the bed; now Pinkie lets a few tears spill.)

Pinkie: It’s just…heart-wrenching!

 

(She joins the other three, forming a four-pony pile of misery and—in Rarity’s case—running mascara. Applejack has retreated back across the room and inclined her head ever so slightly, tilting her hat forward to cover her eyes.)

 

Twilight: (surprised, to her) You too? (The hat is flipped back.)

Applejack: Nope, I’m good. (Twilight approaches the bed.)

Twilight: Look, everypony. I know how hard it is to say goodbye.

Pinkie: (pulling her closer) I’m mostly sad because you’re not sad!

Twilight: What? Me? What about Applejack?

Pinkie: Applejack cries on the inside, Twilight!

Applejack: (stolidly) It’s true.

 

(She crosses one foreleg over the other to emphasize the point. Cut to Twilight and Pinkie.)

 

Rainbow: (from o.s.) It’s all right, Fluttershy. (They glance in her direction; cut to her, Fluttershy, and Tank. The crying stops and Fluttershy smiles.) It’s all right.

 

(Now Twilight, Pinkie, and Rarity back away from the bed, Rarity wiping her eyes clean as Applejack crosses to them.)

 

Applejack: (aside, to Twilight) You think she’s done, or just gettin’ a third wind?

Twilight: I don’t know. Rainbow Dash, are you okay?

 

(Cut to the bed. Fluttershy has climbed down, and Rainbow—now sitting up on her haunches—sets Tank on the mattress. She gets down as well with a sniffle and a few last tears.)

 

Rainbow: I think so. (wiping eyes) I-I feel better. (smiling) Really, I do.

 

(Her perspective, panning slowly across the five visitors.)

 

Rainbow: Thanks, everypony. I don’t know what I’d do without you… (Back to her and Tank; she tears up while glancing at him.) …or him.

 

(The seamed, leathery face stretches into a gentle smile, and she steps a bit closer and kneels to his level.)

 

Rainbow: (sniffling) Oh, Tank, I’m sure gonna miss you.

 

(The stubby, slipper-clad forelegs reach out at a glacially slow pace to touch her front hooves, and the two heads lean against each other in a gesture of shared understanding, painful as it might be. Fade to black.)

 

(Snap to a long shot of the frozen pond seen twice before, now liberally populated with winter-clad ponies. As one group does a bit of ice skating, Daisy pushes Cherry down an adjacent hill on a sled, with Caramel watching. Next a group of stallions hits the ice, fully kitted out for a pick-up hockey game, and Spike glides by to perform an admirable multiple “axel jump”—leaping up, spinning longitudinally several times, and coming down to face back the way he came in. Cut to a patch of sky, where two pegasi have a flying snowball fight in progress, then tilt down to the base of a tree. Twilight and all of her friends save Rainbow are here, sporting cold-weather togs of their own; a pile of snowballs rests next to Applejack.)

 

Twilight: Well, guess we’re starting winter with a bang.

Applejack: (flicking one ball up with a rear hoof) The fun’s come early! (launching it) Yee-haa!

 

(It sails toward Pinkie, who drops onto her back to avoid taking the hit and starts making a snow angel by swinging her legs back and forth.)

 

Pinkie: You think we could mess up winter every year? It’s way less work!

Twilight: Uh, I don’t think Rainbow Dash could handle it.

 

(Right on cue, here comes the missing sixth mare, dressed for the cold and toting Tank in her saddlebags. He no longer wears his shell cover or slippers.)

 

Rainbow: Riding that entire season from Cloudsdale to Ponyville was pretty awesome. (Tank yawns.) I thought you guys might like to say goodbye to Tank. He’s ready to hibernate. (Pinkie stands up with a happy gasp.)

Pinkie: You’re using the word! Oh, she’s using the word! (She whips over to Rainbow.) And when Tank finishes hibernating, I’m gonna throw him the biggest “Welcome Home” party ever! (A thought hits her.) Or wait. Should it be a “Welcome Above Ground” party? Or a “Happy Wake-Up” party? Maybe an “It’s About Time” party.

 

(Pan slightly to put her out of view and frame Rarity on Rainbow’s other side.)

 

Rarity: And I’ll design him a very special suit just for the occasion, whichever one it ends up being.

Applejack: I’m glad you’re feelin’ a little better, Rainbow Dash.

Rainbow: Yeah. (crossing to tree) Me too.

 

(Extreme close-up of the piled-up snow at its base. She reaches into view and scrapes away a patch to expose the mounded dirt beneath; zoom out to frame Tank approaching it. As the other five watch, he settles himself into the earth, backing in so that only his head and forelegs are exposed. Rainbow hunches down to his level.)

 

Rainbow: So you really want to do this hibernating thing, huh?

 

(He nods; cut to a pan along the other five, Rarity at the leading end of the row.)

 

Rarity: Goodbye, Tank. (Next three lines overlap.)

Fluttershy: Happy winter.

Applejack: See you later, little fella.

Pinkie: Have a good sleep, Tank!

Twilight: Goodbye, Tank. We’ll miss you.

 

(The tortoise scoops dirt and snow toward himself; cut to Rainbow, once again upright and trying to rein in her emotions and tears. Twilight lays a comforting hoof on her shoulder and gets a small smile in return as Rainbow reasserts her self-control. One last scoop, and there is no longer any trace of either Tank or the patch that Rainbow laid bare for him—he has bedded down for the winter.)

 

(Applejack/Fluttershy/Pinkie/Rarity head off, but Rainbow stands over the spot with a downcast expression. Twilight remains with her, smiling, and Rainbow does likewise at her words.)

 

Twilight: Well? Ready for some winter fun?

Rainbow: (trotting to Tank’s spot) Uh…I’m gonna hang here and read to him a bit. (She sits on her haunches and pulls a book from her bag.) That little guy can never get to sleep without a bedtime story. (Open the cover.) I…I-I’ll be right there.

 

(Twilight trots away, and the camera cuts to an overhead shot of the area and zooms out to frame the shore of the pond and the hill. The rest of the gang is already down at the edge of the ice, enjoying the snow, and Twilight makes her way toward them as Rainbow settles in to read her loyal pet to sleep. Fade to black.)


APPLEOOSA’S MOST WANTED

 

Written by Dave Polsky

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by M.A. Larson

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Directed by Jim Miller

 

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

 

Notes:                  I have chosen to retain the “Appleloosa” spelling in this transcript despite the

episode title, in keeping with the prevailing practice in both fan works and

merchandise.

 

Unless otherwise noted, all ponies except for already-established characters are

earth ponies.

 

 

Prologue

 

(Opening shot: fade in to a slow pan across a stretch of desert land on which a festival is in full swing. It is daytime. Ponies in Wild West-style apparel pass back and forth, and assorted events and tents/stalls are set up in the background. Apple Bloom advances into view in the fore, surveying the goings-on with a smile.)

 

Bloom: (turning toward camera) Aren’t you glad y’all came with me to see Applejack compete in the Appleloosa Rodeo?

 

(The setting, therefore, is the frontier settlement that played host to the events of “Over a Barrel.” Cut to a head-on shot of the filly; Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle stand a few steps back.)

 

Scootaloo: Totally! This place is a cutie mark gold mine! There’s barrel racing…

 

(On the end of this, pan quickly away from the trio to a course set up for this contest. A stallion weaves through a row of barrels, nudging each as he cuts his turns. A second pan brings the camera to a mare whirling a lasso in her teeth; a pony-shaped scarecrow stands on a pole before her.)

 

Scootaloo: (from o.s.) …roping contests…

 

(The dummy is snagged and yanked from its perch. Pan quickly to a group of stallions in clown makeup and outlandish attire, goofing for the spectators.)

 

Scootaloo: (from o.s.) …rodeo clowning…

 

(One, balanced on a rolling barrel, mows another one down. Pan quickly to two mares galloping side by side along a racetrack.)

 

Scootaloo: (from o.s.) …steeplechase…

 

(They bound over one hurdle, then another, and the camera cuts back to Bloom; Scootaloo and Sweetie cross to her.)

 

Bloom: If we can get into some of these events, we could all three walk off the train back in Ponyville with brand-spankin’-new cutie marks!

Scootaloo: (eyeing her own haunch) Wouldn’t a barrel look good here?

Bloom: (eyeing hers) I want a lasso!

 

(Looking off to one side, Sweetie notices Applejack’s cousin Braeburn, left foreleg bandaged and in a sling to keep it clear of the ground.)

 

Sweetie: (hesitantly) I-I don’t know. All these events look a little, well…dangerous.

Bloom: No risk, no reward.

Sheriff Silverstar: (from o.s.) All right, everypony, listen up!

 

(Cut to him, standing on the porch outside his office and addressing two stallions with gold stars on their hats—his deputies. A third stallion is listening, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders make their way toward the group.)

 

Silverstar: We need a big presence at this here rodeo, so make yourself plenty seen! I want that lowdown varmint to know we mean business!

Sweetie: (to Bloom, Scootaloo) I hope nothing bad is going on.

Bloom: A cutie-mark-a-palooza and a lowdown varmint? This is shapin’ up to be the most excitin’ rodeo ever! (She and Scootaloo rear up briefly.)

Scootaloo: Yeah! Come on!

 

(They peel out, as does their unicorn gal pal after a moment’s uncertain pause. Pan from their former location to an alley formed by one wall of the office—which shows the barred window of a jail cell—and a stack of hay bales. Visible on the masonry is the colossal shadow of a stallion’s head and forelegs, nearly twice as tall as the average pony and showing the outline of a disproportionately small hat. The image backs out of view down the alley; cut to an extreme close-up of one hoof being lifted away, leaving a print in the dirt. An impression of a horseshoe fits entirely within this indentation, suggesting that the hoof is too large to be shod with standard sizes. Zoom in slowly on this and fade to black.)

 

 

OPENING THEME

 

 

Act One

 

(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of a twirling lasso, then zoom out. The stallion wielding it flicks the loop forward, past a nearby hay bale, and snags a second one at a much greater distance. This is dragged along the ground and flung upward, falling away from the rope, to land on the extended forelegs of a mare crouched on a bale that is part of a very tall stack. She tosses it up to a second mare standing at a higher elevation, who catches it on her head and heaves it up again; next it lands on a second stallion’s back and he gives it another boost. It goes to Applejack, who bucks it in a high, tight arc to its final resting place on the slightly irregular pinnacle of this whole assembly. A bit of tottering; once the bale stabilizes, the camera zooms out to frame the group’s efforts—more a tower than a pile, perhaps three dozen levels high. Braeburn steps into view in the foreground to check their progress.)

 

Braeburn: Woo-hoo! Yee-haa! That’s my cousin! Go, Applejack, go! (Applejack crosses to him.)

Applejack: Whoo! (wiping forehead) It’s been a dog’s age since I got to compete. All the rodeos ’round Ponyville are closed down for some reason.

Braeburn: Well, I guess havin’ injured kinfolk in Appleloosa sure paid off, then, huh, cuz?

Applejack: (tipping hat) Just doin’ my best to fill your horseshoes, Braeburn.

Braeburn: Keep tossin’ like that and I’ll be out of a job.

 

(She gives him a high five on the hoof of his injured foreleg.)

 

Braeburn: Ow! Ow! (Applejack shudders at her mistake.)

Applejack: Sorry. (looking around) Say, where’s my sister and her friends?

Braeburn: Uh-oh. (He finds them nowhere in sight.) Gee, uh…I guess I got so caught up watchin’ you that I— (She leans angrily toward him.)

Applejack: You said you’d keep an eye on those fillies! How am I supposed to focus on practicin’ if you’re not gonna—

Braeburn: (smiling, pointing ahead) There they are!

 

(Zoom out slightly to frame the Crusaders approaching from behind Applejack. Bloom wears a headband decorated with apple-marked pennants, in addition to her bow; Scootaloo sports a giant sombrero whose crown is styled as a cactus, with apples around the brim; and Sweetie has acquired a caramel apple.)

 

Braeburn: Heh…right where I left ’em.

 

 (The sombrero falls over Scootaloo’s eyes; she shoves it back up, but this bit of millinery-related mirth does nothing to improve Applejack’s mood. Cut to her and Braeburn.)

 

Braeburn: Aw, don’t be mad. (He glances at his bad leg, then hams it up.) OUUUCH! My foreleg! Hurts so much!

 

(Giggles from the o.s. Crusaders; cut to them. Scootaloo’s hat falls again, and she shoves it up from her eyes as the camera zooms out to frame Applejack stepping over to address them on the start of the next line.)

 

Applejack: Y’all can’t go runnin’ off like that, you hear? Backstage at a rodeo ain’t no kind of playground.

Bloom: (chastened) Sorry, Applejack. We won’t wander off again. (Scootaloo, smiling, gives her a nudge; she smiles as well.) But, uh, speakin’ of the rodeo, what would you say about me and the Crusaders maybe competin’ in one teensy-weensy little event or three?

 

(Back to Applejack on the end of this, her mental processes thoroughly gummed up by this proposition. She gets snapped out of it by a sudden interruption from Braeburn.)

 

Braeburn: (pointing) LOOK OUT!!

 

(A rumbling noise asserts itself and both full-grown Apples turn their eyes skyward, the camera following quickly to stop on the hay bale high-rise. It is now swaying crazily to and fro as if Discord had turned all the bales to foam rubber, and it begins to topple directly toward the Crusaders. They have just enough time for one three-part scream of terror before Applejack dives across in a flying tackle that carries them all to safety, but the headband, sombrero, and caramel apple are lost under the thundering tumble of bales. Dust fills the screen, then clears to show the four sprawled out at the corral fence that rings this practice field.)

 

(Applejack looks up with a hitch of breath, and the camera cuts to a long overhead shot of the area. The bales have crushed a set of bleacher seats and part of the fence, and Braeburn is on the far side of the mess.)

 

Applejack: What the hay just happened? (Ground level; all stand up and Braeburn crosses to them.)

Braeburn: You fillies all right?

Crusaders: Uh-huh/Yeah.

Silverstar: (from o.s., disgustedly) Sugar and salt licks! (Pan quickly to him.) Well, I’ll be. (Applejack steps over to him.)

Applejack: What is it, Sheriff?

 

(His eyes are fixed on a certain spot of ground, and she turns her head down to study it as well. Cut to their perspective—a large hoofprint with an undersized horseshoe, a match for the one left by the unseen stallion in the prologue. Zoom in slowly on this, then cut to Applejack, Braeburn, and Silverstar.)

 

Braeburn: (apprehensively) Is it him?

Silverstar: Ain’t no doubt. (Zoom in to an extreme close-up.) It’s Trouble Shoes.

 

(A mournful harmonica tune begins at this point, causing him to pop his eyes wide open with a surprised little neigh, and the camera cuts to a longer shot of the tableau. The music comes courtesy of a rodeo clown standing a short distance away from the three. Finally noting their surprise after several seconds, this newcomer drops the instrument, letting it dangle from the cord attached to both ends that loops around his neck. Giving a thoroughly embarrassed grin, he quickly backs away; the Crusaders exchange slightly puzzled glances over the entire incident.)

 

(Dissolve to an overhead shot of the street outside Silverstar’s office. His two deputies stand on the porch, impassively regarding the knot of clamoring ponies gathered here. Cut to just behind them, the camera now aimed over their heads toward the doorway.)

 

Mare voice 1: Is it true? Is Trouble Shoes here?

Stallion voice 1: You ain’t gonna shut down the rodeo, are you? (Silverstar steps out onto the porch; the group falls silent as he speaks.)

Silverstar: All right, now, I called for a meetin’, not a mob scene!

 

(Among the crowd, one stallion resignedly throws the torch he carries over his shoulder, while another sullenly puts down the pitchfork he holds.)

 

Silverstar: (pacing) Now, as many of you know, the Equestria rodeo circuit has been plagued by the dirty dealin’s of a notorious outlaw. (A mare rushes to the front of the crowd.)

Mare 1: He knocked barrels every which way at the Hoof City Rodeo! Nearly crushed my Aunt Bay Mare!

Stallion voice 2: That’s nothin’! (Cut to this speaker.) He sabotaged the steer pen at Pinto Creek Rodeo, settin’ off such a stampede they canceled the whole dadgum thing!

 

(Grumbles of assent from the crowd; they quiet again as Silverstar paces and speaks.)

 

Silverstar: Now, now, it’s true we had an incident this mornin’ at our own Appleloosa Rodeo. Hay bale stack came down prit’ near on top of three little fillies.

 

(Cut to said fillies—being closely watched by Applejack and Braeburn, with big sister worriedly running a hoof through little one’s mane—during the second half of this, then back to Silverstar for the next line.)

 

Silverstar: I examined them hoofprints myself and, uh… (Extreme close-up, his eyes narrowing.) …it was Trouble Shoes, all right.

 

(A round of gasps from the crowd; he begins to pace again.)

 

Silverstar: (dejectedly) I reckon I oughta cancel this rodeo like all the others done. (Concerned looks flash between the deputies; he zips back front and center, with new fire.) But dag-hoof it, this has gone far enough! We’ll double the patrols! (rearing up) This rodeo will go on!

 

(The onlookers clear a path as he descends from the porch and strides through them, followed by the deputies.)

 

Silverstar: Appleloosa ain’t gonna be intimidated!

 

(As the others follow him, voicing defiant cheers and whoops, the camera slowly zooms in on Applejack, the Crusaders, and Braeburn.)

 

Bloom: Glad that’s settled. So, uh, Applejack, about me and my pals competin’ in the rodeo…

 

(She trails off into a nervous little chuckle as the blond apple expert shoots her a very dirty sidewise glance. Cut to a long shot of a house and zoom in.)

 

Bloom: (from inside) Don’t send us home! It’s not fair!

 

(Inside, a grim-faced Applejack sets a dispirited Bloom’s saddlebags in place as Braeburn watches over the other two Crusaders, already loaded up and equally glum.)

 

Applejack: Now quit your bellyachin’. (Zoom out slightly to frame the whole room.) I can’t have y’all around here with some outlaw on the loose. (Close-up; she too deflates.) Aww, maybe I oughta call it quits and go home too.

 

(Zoom out quickly to frame all five again.)

 

Braeburn: No! You can’t! (smiling) This rodeo is important to Appleloosa, and with you in there, we got a real shot at winnin’. (pushing Applejack out the open front door) Come on now, you head on back to practice and don’t worry none about these three. (Cut to the grinning Crusaders; he continues o.s.) I won’t let ’em outta my sight.

 

(Before Applejack can get a word out, the door is swung shut in her face and Braeburn wastes no time in securing it: bolt latch, deadbolt lock, chain bolt. He then pushes a chair in front of the door and positions it to face into the room.)

 

Braeburn: You hear? (sitting) Y’all ain’t leavin’ my sight.

 

(Cut to the Crusaders and zoom in slowly as uneasy looks pass from one to another, then back to Braeburn, giving them his best no-nonsense stare with forelegs crossed as best he can. A dissolve changes day to night, as seen through the window, and shows him fast asleep and half-slumped/fallen forward off the chair. As he snores vigorously, the camera cuts to just outside that window; Bloom peeks over the sill, raises the sash, and climbs out onto the porch after a wary look back and forth. Scootaloo follows suit, the two heading purposefully across the planks; when Sweetie takes her turn, she tumbles inelegantly to land on her chin. All three have shed their saddlebags.)

 

Sweetie: (following them) I thought we weren’t gonna wander off again. (Now they are well away from the homestead.)

Bloom: This ain’t wanderin’. We know exactly where we’re headed—to find Trouble Shoes.

Sweetie: But isn’t he a dangerous criminal?

Bloom: We only need to find him. We don’t need to capture him. (jumping ahead; Scootaloo follows) The Sheriff can handle that. (They land on the top rail of a fence.)

Scootaloo: And once he’s in jail, we’ll be competing! And then it’s—

Bloom, Scootaloo: (high-fiving each other) —cutie mark city!

 

(Down they go to the other side; up comes Sweetie, only to lose her balance and hit the ground wrong again. By the time she gets upright, the other two have moved several yards along a path heading into a misty, overgrown forest. She glances behind herself with some measure of trepidation before starting off after them.)

 

Sweetie: (to herself) Worst idea ever.

 

(Another backward glance, and she carries on along the foreboding route. Dissolve to a close-up of an owl perched on a tree branch, facing away from the camera. It swivels its head 180 degrees and hoots into the night, the yellow-tinted whites of its eyes seeming to glow in the dank gloom. Pan to the Crusaders on the move, red-gold and violet and green eyes flicking here and about in search of any hint of trouble. Bloom stops short, having stepped into a too-big hoofprint marked by a too-small horseshoe—matching the one identified earlier by Silverstar as belonging to Trouble Shoes—and the others pull up to either side.)

 

Bloom: It’s another giant hoofprint!

Sweetie: Do either of you have any idea where we are?

 

(A lightning strike scares all three of them, Scootaloo so badly that she bolts away and huddles down with face pressed to the grass as rain begins to fall. She looks up after a moment.)

 

Scootaloo: Uh, maybe we should head back and try again later.

Bloom: Come on, before we lose the trail!

 

(She trots off; after a beat, Scootaloo shrugs resignedly toward Sweetie and follows. The little unicorn stands irresolutely in place until another lightning bolt scares her into galloping ahead with a cry. Cut to a close-up of another of Trouble’s prints, which quickly begins to fill with water under the rapidly intensifying rain, then dissolve to a stretch of leafy treetops and tilt down to frame the Crusaders. The forest path is now dotted with large puddles, and their pace has slowed considerably.)

 

Sweetie: (borderline whining) Come on. We’ve gone far enough. (Close-up of her and Scootaloo.) It’s time to go back. (Both stop.)

Scootaloo: The rain is only getting worse, Apple Bloom. (Sweetie nods.) Let’s come back tomorrow.

 

(The young earth pony has continued her progress, but halts as well after a few more steps.)

 

Bloom: Maybe y’all are right. (returning to them) So, how do we get back? (That gives the other two a very unpleasant jolt.)

Sweetie: You mean you don’t know?!

 

(Here comes some more lightning, sending them into a panic-stricken three-way huddle. Dissolve to a long shot of a barn standing in a field and zoom in. Applejack trots in through the open main doors, away from a fresh tower of hay bales—evidently the result of a serious practice session. Inside, drenched from hat to tail, she meets with the other four ponies who took part in making the stack seen at the start of this act.)

 

Applejack: Whoo. Good job, y’all. I know they need lots of mud for the rodeo tomorrow, but I wish they woulda warned us about this rainstorm.

 

(A whinny is heard from outside; she looks over her shoulder and spots a sopping-wet Braeburn limping into the barn.)

 

Applejack: Braeburn? Where are the girls?

 

(He can only manage a very nervous little laugh before the view cuts to a very long overhead shot of the barn and zooms out slowly.)

 

Applejack: (from inside) WHAAAAAAT?!?!?

 

(Her voice echoes faintly, somehow managing to make itself heard even among the lightning and thunderclaps that rip the air. Snap to black.)

 

 

Act Two

 

(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of a few playing cards lying face-down on a table, with the rest of the deck placed nearby. Silverstar’s hoof reaches into view and slams down four cards, face up: two fours and two deuces.)

 

Silverstar: (from o.s.) Ha! (Tilt up to frame him; he emphasizes every word.) Fish my wish.

 

(A longer shot reveals that he and his deputies are gathered around a table in his office for this game.)

 

Deputy 1: Gol-dagnabit! (Throw down cards; glare away disgustedly.)

 

(At the same time, the other one voices a crushed moan and plops onto the table face first. The victor tips his hat with a smirk as the clatter of galloping hooves approaches the building. There is the slam of the office’s batwing doors being flung open; on the start of the next line, zoom out to frame Applejack and Braeburn now inside, both freshly sodden from the rain.)

 

[Animation goof: Braeburn’s right foreleg is bandaged in this shot, rather than his left.]

 

Applejack: (out of breath) Sheriff Silverstar! You gotta help! My sister’s gone, and her friends too!

Braeburn: I’ve searched and searched, but no sign of ’em anywhere!

Applejack: It musta been Trouble Shoes!

Silverstar: Now, now, hold on there. Trouble Shoes done a lot of bad things in his day, but nothin’ like that.

Applejack: You really want to take that chance?

 

(Silverstar ponders this for a moment and, after exchanging glances with the deputies, pushes his chair back from the table and gets onto all four hooves.)

 

Silverstar: Come on, y’all! (Outside; he gallops into the rain, leading the others.) Let’s ride!

 

(Dissolve to Scootaloo leading the Crusaders through the woods; they duck to pass beneath a fallen log.)

 

Sweetie: You sure about this, Scootaloo?

Scootaloo: I thought I was, but now I’m not. (She and Sweetie stop at the edge of a drop-off.)

Bloom: (bringing up the rear) So I pretty much got us completely and totally lost. How could this get any worse?

 

(The proverbial question that should never, ever be asked under any circumstances. The answer comes when the saturated soil under their hooves gives way, dropping them screaming into a slide down the muddy incline and then into a watercourse loaded with far too many sharp bends for their liking. They fetch up in a mudhole at the bottom and stand up, Sweetie lying across Scootaloo’s back; the mud covering them dribbles away under the driving rain.)

 

Bloom: We gotta get out of this rain. There’s no tellin’ how long this storm could last.

Scootaloo: (pointing) Look!

 

(The motion dumps Sweetie into the muck again. Cut to their perspective of a cabin standing in a small clearing and zoom in slowly through the mist and deluge. It is mounted on a four-wheeled base, with a harness attached to one end—the pony equivalent of a house trailer.)

 

Bloom: (softly) It looks abandoned. (Back to the three; Sweetie stands up.) Let’s go see if we can find some blankets or somethin’.

 

(She gallops toward the structure, leaving the others to trade an uncertain look. Cut to just inside the front door, which swings open to reveal the three on the porch, now dried off. Lightning forks across the sky, spooking them into a rush over the threshold. The furnishings suggest that the owner is not a wealthy pony by any stretch—or a very neat one, based on the lopsided stack of dishes on the kitchen counter and the visible cobwebs. Sweetie magically closes the door, and the three cautiously spread out to explore this new find.)

 

(Bloom stops in front of a set of shelves that display various random knickknacks; a cobwebbed horseshoe captures her focus immediately. Across the room, Sweetie examines a wood-burning stove, while Scootaloo examines a box of junk. The slow, muffled thudding of hooves brings her investigation to an abrupt end, and the camera cuts to the door and zooms in slowly as the sound rises in volume. The three fillies hastily back up toward each other and turn to face the approaching menace, all six eyes within an ace of popping from their sockets.)

 

(Cut to ground level, just in front of the door, as it swings open to expose the silhouettes of two broad forelegs. Tilt up to frame the rest of this figure, whose outline matches the large shadow cast on the wall of Silverstar’s office in the prologue. Comes now a tripartite scream of abject terror from the Crusaders; it is matched by the new arrival—a stallion—and he slams his head against the top of the doorframe, knocking a divot out of it. The light on him is still dim, but several features can be made out in this close-up: dark brown coat; unkempt, darker mane; small, battered tan hat; yellow-green eyes; broad “blaze” marking that runs down the length of his snout and surrounds his nose and mouth; stubble on the chin. Trouble Shoes has just come home.)

 

(Thrown severely off balance, he topples across the cabin and trips/stumbles back and forth, pulling down the window curtains and getting tangled in the fabric. Now his cutie mark can be seen—a large, upside-down horseshoe—along with an extremely short tail and very light brown coloration on his hoof tips. Trouble slams into the wall by the door, and the Crusaders cringe in sympathetic pain as the yells and crashes continue and a mug bounces across the floor. They bug out just before he falls backward toward them, coming down squarely on a potted cactus and smashing the table on which it stands. His eyes pop with the fresh agony; cut to a long shot of the cabin exterior as a new yell makes itself heard and a patch of the roof bulges outward—he has jumped up and bashed his head on the ceiling.)

 

(Inside, Trouble makes a four-point landing, his hat smashed by a pot on his head and the curtains still tangled around his midsection.)

 

Trouble: Ow!

 

(The cookware falls loose as he bolts blindly away and collides face first with a hanging lantern. It swings away, then catches him again on the return trip, and the view snaps to black. A high-pitched ringing noise starts up, such as one might experience after a blow to the head. The blackness splits horizontally, and the two halves of the screen retract in a manner similar to an eye opening—this is Trouble’s perspective, looking blurrily up at Bloom. He groans wearily, the sound muffled by the aftereffects of this cranial trauma.)

 

Bloom: (muffled) Hello?

 

(Blink; his sight begins to function normally, but the ringing continues.)

 

Bloom: (clearer, echoing slightly) You all right?

 

(Scootaloo and Sweetie step up on either side, their faces matching the concern on hers, and the view cuts to all four. The massive stallion has wound up flat on his belly amid a tangle of hooves, legs, and curtains. When he speaks, his voice is slow and gravelly, with the tone of one who has resigned himself to forever being the butt of Lady Luck’s jokes. Now seen in full light, his mane is dark gray and his hoof tips and blaze are the same shade of white. The ringing in his ears stops at this point.)

 

Trouble: Surely.

Bloom: We didn’t mean no harm. We just came in to get out of the rain.

Trouble: Had some hot cider a-cookin’ in the kitchen. (looking across cabin) Doubt it survived.

 

(Pan quickly to the thoroughly wrecked kitchen. Out of all the pans that had been hanging on wall hooks, only one is still there; it drops loose and clatters to the floor.)

 

Trouble: I ain’t gonna rise to greet y’all. Awfully rude, I reckon, but as you can see, I’m the fresh casualty of an unusually unfortunate circumstance. (He rests his head on the boards.) My lot in life, I suppose.

Bloom: (hesitantly) Are you…Trouble Shoes?

Trouble: That’s me.

 

(The red-maned filly starts toward him, but Scootaloo throws out a foreleg to bar her path.)

 

Scootaloo: Wha—what are you doing?

Bloom: I’m gonna unwrap him.

 

(Now she crosses the floor to Trouble and gets a mouthful of curtain fabric, ready to make good on that statement.)

 

Sweetie: (crossing to her) You can’t do that! That’s Trouble Shoes! (Bloom drops the cloth and smiles.)

Bloom: Aw, he don’t seem so bad.

 

(Close-up of a patch of floor; one piece after another is tossed down, and in short order Trouble stands up to his full, very imposing height. He regards the Crusaders impassively as lightning cracks through the night, visible through the open door at his back.)

 

Trouble: Of course, guests would arrive while I ain’t got no pie to offer. (crossing cabin) Score some more misfortune points for old Trouble Shoes.

 

(One front hoof comes down squarely on a dropped banana peel, sending him skidding and yelling across the floor and o.s. A camera-shaking crash marks his impact; cut to the upper portion of a set of shelves, one of which holds three bowling balls. These roll over the edge one by one, and the camera tilts down to Trouble, sitting up on his haunches and rubbing his head through his hat. A sizable lump grows up, raising the chapeau clear of his scalp—he has taken three direct hits.)

 

Trouble: Typical. (pushing hat down; lump disappears) Bad luck never rests.

Bloom: (from o.s.) You sure that’s bad luck? (Cut to the Crusaders.) Seems like maybe you’re just a little…um…

Sweetie: …klutzy? (He snaps upright.)

Trouble: (indignantly, pivoting to show his haunch) Tell that to the flank!

 

(Zoom in to a close-up of the horseshoe marking on the start of the next line. He reverts to his usual defeated tone.)

 

Trouble: Upside-down horseshoe—bad luck. (Close-up of him.) Follers me wherever I go like sour on old milk. (clumping past Crusaders) Y’all best vamoose before my bad luck rubs off and sticks to y’all. Get along! (now at door) Skedaddle!

 

(Lightning; cut to a head-on view of the staring trio and zoom out quickly through the door, framing Trouble as well.)

 

Trouble: (pointing out) AM-SCRAY! (Inside again.)

Scootaloo: Um…we don’t really know the way back to Appleloosa. (Bloom and Sweetie nod.)

Trouble: But of course I do. Wouldn’t you know it? My lucky day.

 

(Dissolve to the gloomy-faced giant leading the fillies along the forest path. The rain has stopped, and the sky has cleared.)

 

Sweetie: It’s actually kinda sweet of him to help us out like this.

Scootaloo: (worried) I know. What do we do if he takes us back to Appleloosa and the Sheriff arrests him? If I get a cutie mark for that, I’ll feel guilty every time I see it.

 

(Her words start a thought in the other two young brains. Cut to a close-up profile of Trouble.)

 

Bloom: (from o.s.) Say there, Trouble Shoes… (Tilt down to her, walking alongside.) …you might not want to take us all the way back to Appleloosa. The Sheriff sorta has it in his mind that you’re a no-good outlaw lookin’ to shut down the rodeo.

Trouble: My kind of luck he’d think that.

Bloom: But…is it true?

Trouble: Y’all like stories?

Crusaders: (nodding) Mmm-hmm.

Trouble: Just my luck. I was hopin’ you’d say no.

 

(Dissolve to a close-up of Trouble as a colt in the time before earning his cutie mark. He wears the same hat as in the present, but he looks around himself with genuine happiness and wonderment. He stands behind a low wall, his forelegs hooked over its edge, with ponies to either side; zoom out to frame more of them. During the next line, cut to just behind him, framing a rodeo in progress.)

 

Trouble: (voice over) When I was a colt, I wanted to be a rodeo star somethin’ fierce.

 

(Close-up of one hoof scraping against the dirt, then zoom out. He now stands in a corral, rearing up.)

 

Trouble: (voice over) But I just didn’t seem to have a knack for it.

 

(He gallops toward a barrel and runs into it face first, his hat flying off to land on it as he tumbles backward with a yell. Two buffalo who happen to be looking on from beyond a nearby fence trade a laugh. Dissolve to Trouble with his hat back on and practicing some lasso tricks; cut to the buffalo, glancing sidewise at each other with mild befuddlement. They turn their eyes straight ahead again at the sound of his groan, and a cut back to him tells the reason: he has managed to hogtie himself but good. Trouble’s moan mingles with the laughter from the buffalo onlookers.)

 

(A dissolve, and now a hitching post has been set up as a hurdle. Two mares gallop into view and leap nimbly over it.)

 

Trouble: (voice over) I practiced and practiced and…

 

(Here he comes, getting his hooves caught on the horizontal bar so that he spins wildly around it, visible as only a brown/white blur.)

 

Colt Trouble: Whooaa…

 

(The spin stops, dumping him upside down so that his hat falls off. Cut to a quartet of well-dressed ponies and zoom out. They are seated at a judges’ table placed in a section of rodeo arena seating, and the re-hatted Colt Trouble deftly whirls a lasso in his teeth. Various barrels stand on the dirt, including a three-high stack.)

 

Trouble: (voice over) …and finally I wrangled up the guts to audition for rodeo school. Right in the middle of that tryout, I knew I was doin’ what I was meant to. (Zoom in on his haunch.) And wouldn’t you know it. (The upside-down horseshoe appears.) In a flash comes this here cutie mark.

 

(Distracted by its emergence, the aspiring rodeo star flicks the lasso so that it snags the topmost barrel in the stack, pulling it down and o.s. Its impact is accompanied by a splash. Cut to the four judges, whose wide-eyed stares give way to a round of laughter, then back to Colt Trouble. Here he stands, the barrel jammed vertically onto his body to cover everything but his hooves, which stand a puddle of water that has dribbled out. The brown/white head pops out through a break in the staves, utter mortification writ large across every square inch. He tries to push the container off himself, but it is stuck fast.)

 

Trouble: (voice over) I can still remember them judges a-laughin’. (Hang head; trudge away, leaving a trail of puddles.) I didn’t even finish my routine, ’cause right then I knew bad luck was my fate.

 

(Dissolve to the same arena, the stands now populated by cheering ponies watching a race. Pan to frame Colt Trouble sneaking up to watch from behind some stacked barrels, having shed the one that fell on him. He rests his front hooves on one barrel.)

 

Trouble: (voice over) That fire for rodeo-in’ never did leave me, though. I couldn’t keep away from ’em.

 

(A dissolve, and now it is a full-grown Trouble who watches from this vantage point.)

 

Trouble: (voice over) So I’d sneak down and have a look— (A couple of competitors gallop past.) —and wouldn’t you know it…

 

(Leaning forward for a better angle, he inadvertently knocks over all the barrels except the one on which he has propped himself up. A mighty grimace as the camera zooms in.)

 

Trouble: (voice over) …bad luck’d strike again. (Hunker down behind barrel; tilt down toward the ground.) Just my lot in life, I reckon.

 

(Wipe to the present-day forest canopy as he finishes, the tilt continuing to bring him into view so that his last few words are delivered on camera. Cut to the Crusaders, following.)

 

Sweetie: Poor Trouble Shoes. I can’t believe those mean judges would laugh at him like that.

Bloom: (smiling) Don’t you see? They weren’t laughing at him. They were just enjoying the show.

Scootaloo: What are you saying?

Bloom: (passing her) Think about it. If we saw a rodeo clown doin’ what he did back in that shack— (Stop.) —we’d think he was the greatest! (Cut to the Crusaders, now all stopped.)

Sweetie: You’re right! He could still be in rodeos, just not the way he thought!

Scootaloo: So he’s been looking at his cutie mark wrong the whole time! It’s not bad luck, it’s—

Silverstar: (from o.s.) Gotcha!

 

(Three pairs of young eyes turn fearfully ahead; cut to Trouble, being roped up by the two deputies. Applejack, Braeburn, and Silverstar are on the scene as well to box him in. All five are now dry from their chase through the storm.)

 

Trouble: Just my luck.

Silverstar: Trouble Shoes, you’re under arrest for vandalizin’ the property and peace of mind of the good rodeo-lovin’ ponies of Equestria, not to mention filly-nappin’ and… (Pause.) …generalized mayhem! (The Crusaders gallop over…)

Bloom: Wait! (…only to be stopped by Applejack’s foreleg.)

Applejack: Braeburn, get these fillies someplace safe. (She gallops ahead.)

Bloom: Wait! No! (Lunge; Braeburn pushes her back.) Listen, Applejack!

 

(Cut to the other three members of the impromptu posse and their prisoner; Silverstar walks point to escort them away as Applejack falls in.)

 

Crusaders: (from o.s.) NOOOOO!!

 

(Cut back to them, faces wracked with sadness and shock and regret. Zoom out slowly and snap to black.)

 

 

Act Three

 

(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the house in which Braeburn was watching the Crusaders. It is now the following morning, and the camera zooms in slowly.)

 

Bloom: (from inside) But Trouble Shoes isn’t the menace everypony thinks!

 

(On the end of this, cut to inside; Applejack sets her hat in place grimily as Bloom addresses her back. All three Crusaders are present and accounted for.)

 

Applejack: Sakes alive, what’s with you? (She turns to them.) Why in tarnation would you want me to help get him outta jail— (Cut to the Crusaders; she continues o.s.) —when he’s the one who ran off with y’all to begin with?

 

(All three young faces grimace as their owners fully realize the mess Trouble is now in. The sound of Applejack’s hooves crossing the floor is heard.)

 

Applejack: (from o.s.) Now if y’all excuse me— (passing them) —I’m off to win the Appleloosa Rodeo hay bale monster stack! (Sound of door opening.)

Bloom: Um, Applejack?

 

(Big sister does not break stride, her tail disappearing through the door before it swings closed behind her. Deeply unsettled looks pass from one filly to another before the view dissolves to just outside a jail cell—the one within Silverstar’s office. Its far wall displays a few hash marks, perhaps left by a former occupant to mark the days spent there, and Trouble stands atop his bunk on his hind legs to peer out the window. Zoom in slowly through the cell door as he lets out a heavy sigh, then cut to just outside the window bars.)

 

Trouble: Well, at least I get me a view of one small corner of the rodeo.

 

(A creaking of bedsprings is heard, followed by his abrupt drop out of view; his battered hat comes free of his head and falls on its own. A cut to inside the cell reveals that his bunk’s mattress has given way under his weight; now he sits on his haunches, the remains wedged around his midsection.)

 

Trouble: Figures. (Cut to Silverstar, seated behind a desk.)

Silverstar: Aw, come on now, Trouble Shoes! I’m runnin’ outta mattresses!

 

(Zoom out as he speaks. The cell door is directly across from him, and piled up in front of it are a great many bunks that have been ruined in exactly the same way. Trouble drops his head despondently, and Silverstar leans back in his chair for a nap and tips his hat over his eyes. The Crusaders peek in through a nearby window; Bloom and Scootaloo grin encouragingly at a very nervous Sweetie, who clamps her teeth onto her tongue and gets her horn working. A magic aura sputters into existence around a ring of keys hanging on the wall near the snoozing Sheriff and lifts it away from its nail. Sweetie concentrates a bit harder and whisks it away, earning a congratulatory nudge from Scootaloo that nearly breaks the spell. Bloom has already cleared out, and Scootaloo races after her as the keys float out under the batwing doors. As soon as they are out of view, the earth pony filly bursts into the office.)

 

Bloom: Come on, Sheriff! You’re about to miss the hay bale monster stack! (Silverstar is awake in an instant.)

Silverstar: Jiminy! That’s startin’ already?

 

(He charges out and down the street, completely ignoring Bloom and Scootaloo on either side of the doors and Sweetie hunkered down just past one end of the building. This last hops up to join her friends, the key ring clamped in her teeth, and all three dart into the office. Close-up of Trouble, the shadows from the cell door’s bars striping themselves forebodingly across his face. These slide away in time with the sound of the lock being opened.)

 

Bloom: (from o.s.) Let’s go, Trouble Shoes! (Zoom out to frame the Crusaders at the door. Sweetie has ditched the keys.) This here’s a jailbreak!

Trouble: Ain’t no need. Can hear the rodeo just fine from this vantage.

Scootaloo: But we’ve got a plan to help you live your dream!

Trouble: Listen, y’all. (He stands up, the bunk still jammed onto his body.) I’m a known criminal. How you proposin’ on gettin’ me into a rodeo?

 

(It falls off; the Crusaders respond with three very optimistic grins. Dissolve to a throng of cheering rodeo spectators, then cut to the stacking event in progress. Applejack and her four teammates are hard at it, having already gained quite a height, and another bale is swiftly lassoed, flung, and boosted to the peak. A tall vertical ruler has been set up, with a couple of arrow markers in place to indicate the efforts of other teams. The next three lines overlap, delivered by the Crusaders as they watch from the fence.)

 

Applejack: Go, Applejack!

Scootaloo: You can do it!

Sweetie: Woo-hoo!

Trouble: (from o.s.) Well…

 

(All three look in his direction; cut to a profile close-up of his face and zoom out. Clown makeup; red rubber-ball nose; fluffy blue wig topped by a tiny purple hat with a pale yellow feather; baggy polka-dotted shirt and heavily patched pants held up with suspenders; bandana tied loosely around neck; oversized red shoes on rear hooves. Classic rodeo clown, in other words.)

 

Trouble: …how do I look?

 

(The fillies laugh at his comical appearance, the camera positioned to show the hay bales on which they have been standing in order to see over the fence. Another bale makes its way up the stack as he steps across to watch over their shoulders; now, for the first time, he puts some real enthusiasm into his voice.)

 

Trouble: Come on now! Stack them bales! (Grins among the Crusaders.) Woo-hoo!

 

(Here comes the next one, up and up and up. Applejack’s buck causes it to land standing on end; it totters dangerously back and forth, eliciting a gasp from the crowd, then tips over to land flat like all the others. A pegasus mare flies up here, carrying an arrow marker in one front hoof, and checks the overall height of the stack very closely with a pencil in the other. This scrutiny brings the Crusaders and Trouble to the ragged edge of completely freaking out. Cut to an extreme close-up of the portion of the ruler next to the bale’s topmost corner; the mare sticks the arrow on to mark it—just above the highest one already in place. The tense silence turns into a cacophony of wild cheering once the camera cuts to the spectators.)

 

Scootaloo: (from o.s.) Go, Applejack! (Back to the Crusaders and Trouble.)

Bloom: That’s my sister! (To the triumphant team, walking off the field.)

Sweetie: (from o.s.) No, mine!

 

(A reminder of the day Bloom let her borrow Applejack as a big sister in “Sisterhooves Social,” no doubt. Now a gang of rodeo clowns takes center stage, gamboling and fooling about in assorted ways with balls, barrels, leaps; the crowd laughs at these antics, and Trouble manages a chuckle when the camera cuts to a close-up.)

 

Bloom: (from o.s.) ’Kay now, Trouble Shoes! (Zoom out to frame the Crusaders next to him.) You’re on!

Trouble: (shocked) Say what? I may be dressed like one— (Cut to two clowns, one jumping over the other’s tumble; he continues o.s.) —but I ain’t no rodeo clown!

 

(Close-up of another performer, hunched and straining under a weight. A zoom out reveals this as three other clowns balanced on his back to make a diamond formation. Here comes a fifth at a gallop, leaping through the equine “hoop.”)

 

Bloom: (from o.s.) You got your cutie mark all wrong, Trouble Shoes! (Back to Trouble, chewing his bottom lip.) You were born to entertain! (Pan/tilt down to the Crusaders.) You’ve got a gift for makin’ folks laugh, don’t you?

Trouble: But my cutie mark’s an upside-down horseshoe, and that means bad luck! (He turns away, letting his head drop.)

Sweetie: That all depends on how you look at it.

Bloom: (sitting on haunches) You always wanted to be a part of the rodeo, right? (He turns back to her.) Well, now’s your chance.

 

(The hapless stallion mulls this over for a second or three and comes up with a smile and a new resolve. Those giant hooves are soon beating out a thudding rhythm as he gallops into the arena—but he stops dead after only a few yards, staring at the other clowns’ silly routines. His fearful glance toward the fence is met by the fillies’ smiles.)

 

Bloom: (waving him on) Go on.

 

(In close-up, Trouble takes a few hesitant steps away from the fence, but stops at the sound of something squishing under his hoof. Zoom out to show that he has stepped on a rubber ball, which shoots out and dumps him onto his face. The projectile bounces off the head of Braeburn in the audience, knocking him silly for a moment and drawing a laugh from those around him. Now Trouble stands up, throwing his head back so that the wig and feathered hat fly off to expose his usual headwear beneath. The next three lines overlap.)

 

Bloom: All right!

Scootaloo: Yeah!

Sweetie: Woo-hoo! All right!

 

(He gallops across the hard-packed dirt. Now Applejack comes up on the fillies’ side of the fence.)

 

Applejack: There y’all are!

 

(She holds up a large trophy topped by a figure of a pony hoisting three hay bales.)

 

Applejack: (to Bloom) How ’bout your big sis, huh? (They completely ignore her for some moments.)

Bloom: (absently) Yeah, way to go.

 

(Big sis shoots her a nasty look, then shifts her attention to the arena proper. Cut to the clowns, most of them bounding up onto a barrel and leaping off, then back to her on the start of the next line.)

 

Applejack: Since when are y’all so into rodeo clowns?

 

(The jesters continue their antics as Trouble gazes intently at them and then rolls his eyes wearily. He gallops to the barrel, but stops with his front hooves on its top and his rear ones on the bale placed behind it as a step. The next clown in line proceeds to run into him from behind, knocking him off and somersaulting ahead; cut to a close-up of Trouble lying on his back and zoom out. Laughs from the crowd greet the sight of the other clown standing on top of Trouble’s legs, hoof to hoof, and walking in place as if the big stallion were a treadmill.)

 

(Next the performers set up a row of three hoops, the outer two held up and a third balanced on a crouching clown’s hat. Three others charge up and leap through, the center one going in the opposite direction of the other two. Pan quickly to Trouble, now upright and shaking his head clear.)

 

Trouble: (glancing at his haunch, rearing up) Just leave me be, cutie mark!

 

(Off he goes, generating enough tremors to scare the daylights out of the stallion propping up the center hoop in his path. The outer two clowns drop their hoops and bail out, and the center one zips away, barely staying ahead of Trouble and getting a big laugh from the crowd.)

 

Trouble: I aim to clear that there hoop!

 

(The response intensifies as he plows through two stacks of barrels, and the hoop carrier leaps over a group of hay bales to get away. Trouble stops here, a barrel jammed over his head, and grunts/rears/bucks in an attempt to remove it. Having no luck, he gallops blindly about the area.)

 

Trouble: (muffled) Come on now!

 

(Close-up of two clowns as a third jumps onto their shoulders then zoom out. They are in turn supported by four others, and all seven are smiling broadly—but their happy mood swiftly turns to panic and they scatter just in time to avoid being hit head on. Trouble instead collides with the winning hay bale tower, de-stabilizing it enough to bring down its constituent parts on one clown after another. One bale finds Braeburn with unerring accuracy; he dazedly pops his head up from the end to the tune of uproarious laughter. Amid the center-arena chaos, Trouble finally comes to a stop, his suspenders giving way so that his pants fall down to leave his cutie mark fully exposed. Close-up of Applejack.)

 

Applejack: That’s the best rodeo clown I ever seen!

 

(She laughs; pan to the Crusaders, who add their own mirth to the background noise. Bloom and Scootaloo trade a high five over Sweetie’s head. As Trouble tries to pull the barrel off his head, sitting on his haunches and with his pants entirely gone, the plug in the side falls loose and the eye visible through the hole darts about. Cut to his perspective of the rowdy, happy bunch, their laughter somewhat muffled by the barrel as he turns his head from side to side, then back to him. Spotting Applejack and the Crusaders across the way, he finally wrenches the container loose and is rewarded with a gush of water that washes off his clown makeup. His rubber-ball nose is still in place, but it pops off to leave his true face in full view. His eyes pop wide open in terrified surprise, and the crowd pulls in a shocked gasp.)

 

Crowd: TROUBLE SHOES!!

Applejack: What the hay?

Mare 2: He escaped from jail!

Stallion: Ruinin’ another rodeo!

 Mare 3: Let’s get him!

 

(Angry shouts start up, and the two stallions who discarded their torch and pitchfork during the town meeting in Act One instantly get them ready to use again. The Crusaders hurry out into the arena, placing themselves in front of Trouble.)

 

Bloom: Wait, y’all! He ain’t what you think he is! (Zoom out; Silverstar faces them.)

Silverstar: Stand aside, young ’uns! (His deputies step up.) This one’s goin’ back to jail.

Sweetie: But he never wanted to ruin any rodeos! Those were just bad accidents! (Applejack comes up from behind her.)

Applejack: Sweetie Belle, what are you talkin’ about?

Scootaloo: (to her) Trouble Shoes has a gift for making ponies laugh! (Cut to the judges, now staring wide-eyed; she continues o.s.) He’s maybe the best rodeo clown I ever seen.

Judge: That’s true! He is awful funny. (Back to Bloom.)

Bloom: He thought his cutie mark was tellin’ him to keep away from rodeos— (Tilt up to Trouble.) —but deep inside he knew that’s where he was meant to be.

 

(The camera motion puts her o.s. on the end of this line.)

 

Bloom: (from o.s.) He just didn’t know how to do it. (Murmurs from the crowd, now far from hostile.)

Trouble: What she says is true. (removing hat) This here, entertaining y’all with my klutzin’… (Zoom in slowly.) …that’s what I’m supposed to be doin’. I know it now. I didn’t mean no harm, honest. (Cut to Applejack; he continues o.s.) I just ain’t never loved nothin’ like I love the rodeo.

 

(The orange-tan face comes over in a warm smile as he finishes; cut to frame both adults and all three youths.)

 

Trouble: So I kept on sneakin’ back and makin’ a big old mess of things. (He dons his hat again.) Turns out I was just a-lookin’ at my cutie mark all wrong.

 

(Cut to the crowd, every face showing a smile, then back to the arena floor on the start of the next line. The first words wipe away the cheery mood.)

 

Silverstar: That may be so, Trouble Shoes, but you still gotta face charges for the problems you caused!

Trouble: If I done wrong, I’ll see to it that I take my med’cine and square my accounts.

Silverstar: Truth be told, we could understand all the trouble with the rodeos. But why’d you have to run off with these here little ’uns last night?

 

(On the end of this, cut to a vastly surprised Trouble and tilt down to the little ’uns in question, all of whom simultaneously arrive at the uncomfortable realization that the jig is well and truly up.)

 

Bloom: (as all three grin weakly) Uh…yeah. About that.

 

(Dissolve to them in the midst of cleaning up the arena: Bloom sweeping up loose hay, Scootaloo pushing a bale, Sweetie rolling a barrel. The stands behind them are empty, the banners half torn down, and Applejack sits smugly on her belly atop a bale to keep watch over them. Her trophy stands on a nearby barrel.)

 

Bloom: (sighing) You really want us to clean up all this mess Trouble Shoes made?

Applejack: Maybe it’ll teach you not to go wanderin’ off after I say not to. (Sweetie tries to lift her barrel with magic.)

Bloom: (groaning) Ain’t it bad enough that you get to go back to Ponyville with a shiny trophy, and all we’re bringin’ back is these same old blank flanks?

 

(During this line, the spell fizzles out, the barrel rolls away, and Bloom lets her broom drop and gestures toward her haunch.)

 

Applejack: Y’all helped Trouble Shoes realize what his cutie mark really means.

 

(Cut to just within the arena entrance, the camera pointing out at him—now completely stripped of his wacky getup, and chatting pleasantly with the other clowns.)

 

Applejack: (from o.s.) Ain’t that a nice feelin’ you can take back with you? (The Crusaders smile.)

Sweetie: I guess we did make things a little better.

Scootaloo: Does feel kinda nice.

Bloom: (hopefully) So we can stop now? (Cut to frame all four, Applejack sitting up to her haunches.)

Applejack: Nn-nope.

 

(All three young faces fall, Bloom kicking at a spot of dirt. Zoom out slowly and fade to black.)

 

 

 

 


MAKE NEW FRIENDS BUT KEEP DISCORD

Written by Natasha Levinger

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by M.A. Larson

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Directed by Jim Miller

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 as a couple of birds fly by, twittering happily.)

Discord: (from inside, laughing) But that’s not all.

(Inside, the two are seated at a small table set with a teapot and two cups/saucers. He reclines on a couch; she sits in a chair.)

Discord: When I went to look for them again, they were on the ceiling!

Fluttershy: (giggling, as he floats a cup/saucer to her) Oh, Discord, I’ve never known anypony as funny as you. I love that story about the time you tried to train you right paw… (Another fit of the giggles.) …to fetch your left leg!

(She gets herself back under control.)

Fluttershy: Oh, I do love our Tuesday teas. (Discord sips from his cup.) And I can’t wait for you to meet my friend Tree Hugger. (He lowers it, surprised.) She’s going to love you too.

Discord: Tree…Hugger? (He lets go with a hearty laugh.)

Fluttershy: I met her on a trip to see the Breezies. She’s a member of the Equestrian Society for the Preservation of Rare Creatures.

(She is referring to the journey that took her out of Ponyville for the duration of “Three’s a Crowd.” Close-up of the draconequus.)

Discord: (sourly) How nice for you. (He takes a bite out of his cup, chomping noisily.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) We’re all gonna have so much fun together at the Grand Galloping Gala!

(That snaps him out of his sullen reverie in an instant. During the next line, he throws his cup/saucer aside, the table floats up and o.s., and he scoots his couch closer.)

Discord: Oh, I was wondering when you were going to ask me. I’d love to. (He leans expectantly over the couch’s arm toward her.)

Fluttershy: (deflating) Oh…oh, no. Um, I’m afraid I’ve already asked Tree Hugger.

(Close-up of Discord, whose hopeful smile turns into a grimace as he straightens his neck to its full vertical height.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) I’m sorry, Discord. (Back to her; he walks past.) I assumed you’d have your own ticket, since you and Princess Celestia are friends now.

(He stops at the front door and magicks a smoking jacket onto himself during the next line.)

Fluttershy: Were you not invited?

Discord: Who, me? It…probably got lost in the mail. No biggie, as the foals say. (bitterly, floating off the floor) Well, gotta go!

Fluttershy: (holding up a tray of snacks) But we haven’t had any of our Tuesday tea cakes!

(The whole lot is unceremoniously removed from her grip and dumped into the front of his jacket.)

Discord: (tossing tray aside) Well, I guess we’re just going to have to exclude them from our party this time. (chuckling falsely, producing/donning a cloth cap) Oh, did I say that out—ah, I mean, ta-ta.

(He winks out, leaving the levitating table and teapot to hit the floor near a flabbergasted Fluttershy. Snap to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to Spike’s bedroom in Twilight’s castle. He is conked out in his bed and sawing logs, feet and head having traded places on the mattress.)

Spike: (mumbling, talking in sleep) …more gemstones…

(He snaps to full consciousness in one terrible instant once Discord slithers up to stare him down at point-blank range. The only sounds he can immediately manage are a couple of panic-stricken cries as those red eyes bore into his green ones.)

Discord: (menacingly) Where’s Twilight?

Spike: (hastily) Um, she’s in Canterlot helping Princess Celestia with the Gala!

(His interrogator responds by giving a crooked, calculating smile and vanishing. Spike sits up, hitching in his breath and wrapping the bed’s blanket around himself. Full-body shivers take hold as he glances around the room. From here, cut to the exterior of the Carousel Boutique and zoom in slowly.)

Rarity: (from inside, giddily) Oh, your first Grand Galloping Gala!

(Cut to a close-up of her in the ground-floor showroom, manipulating ribbon, gem, and fabric flower in her telekinetic grip.)

Rarity: The excitement. The anticipation! (tying a bow) I wouldn’t miss this for all the jewels in Equestria!

(On the end of this, cut to an extreme close-up of the bow as it settles onto Sweetie Belle’s back. A quick zoom out frames both her and Scootaloo standing on the showroom’s three-mirror platform and attired in formal dresses. Sweetie: light blue, with slightly darker blue edging at hem and across the chest; jewel brooch, sash around midsection, and bow all in light green, a blue flower nestled in her mane. Scootaloo: light lavender gown just behind her wings, with darker accents on skirt and chest; violet sash around midsection; small feathered headpiece in pink and light yellow, accented by a purple dragonfly with light yellow wings. Both fillies are absolutely ecstatic at the new threads and the reason for them.)

Scootaloo, Sweetie: (jumping in place) We’re going to the Gala! We’re going to the Gala! We’re going to the Gala!

(On the latter part of this, Rarity floats the leftovers away and the camera pans to Applejack and Rainbow Dash, putting the platform o.s. These two are playing cards, the earth pony sitting on her haunches, the pegasus hovering across from her; the rest of the deck is on a stool between them.)

Applejack: All right, y’all. (putting her cards on the deck) Keep it down. It ain’t like it’s a life-changing experience or noth— (Glance over shoulder; eyes pop; jaw goes slack.) —iiiinnnnggg…

(A changing room curtain slides open to expose the reason for her derailed train of thought during this jaundiced recollection of the events of “The Best Night Ever.” Inside stands Apple Bloom, decked out in a white/pink dress with flower accents at chest and mane. Like the other two Cutie Mark Crusaders, she is top-to-bottom thrilled at this new circumstance. Applejack tears up as a skeptical Rainbow shifts position to get a better look, still holding her cards.)

Applejack: (as Bloom trots across the room) My little sister’s all grown up!

(Wiping her eyes dry, she sniffles and blows her nose on the closest thing she can grab—which just happens to be Rainbow’s tail.)

Rainbow: Hey!

(She yanks it back. Cut to the platform; Bloom has now joined the other two here for a giggle, just in time for the center mirror of the three to blink as if it were a giant eye. The reflective surface is replaced by a yellow expanse, the same shade as the whites of Discord’s eyes, and one beady red pupil swings down to watch.)

Crusaders: This is gonna be the best night ever!

(Only now do they fully notice the quick change, prompting them to scream and dive off the platform. The giant eye shrinks back to normal size and retreats into Discord’s head, leaving an empty spot between the other two mirrors. Having removed the jacket and cap he donned at the end of the prologue, he leans over to Applejack, behind whose legs Bloom has taken cover.)

Discord: (hesitantly) I don’t suppose that, uh— (stroking Bloom’s chin; she and Applejack scowl) —these adorable little cutie pies have their own tickets to the Gross Gruesome Gala, do they?

(The cutie pie he is addressing slaps his lion paw away and blows a hearty raspberry. Before the face-off can escalate any further, though, the sound of Rarity clearing her throat breaks in. Cut to her, with Sweetie hunched down alongside.)

Rarity: To answer your rather rude question— (Sweetie stands up.) —they’re going as our dates. (Foreleg over Sweetie’s back; pull her close.) Our plus-ones!  

Sweetie: (full volume, sing-song) We’re plus-ones! (Bloom and Scootaloo zip over.)

Crusaders: We’re plus-ones! (Back to Discord, standing up; they continue o.s.) We’re plus-ones!

(The din is enough to make him yank off his antler and horn and stuff them in his ears.)

Discord: (irritated, hovering) Yes, yes, yes, I believe I got that. (He vanishes.)

Rainbow: (triumphantly, throwing cards down on/around stool) Yeah!

(She has evidently kept the game going to its end, even though her opponent bailed out of it some time back. A rain of cards tumbles down past the screen; behind them, the view wipes to the interior of Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie Pie stands at an open floor-to-ceiling window, smiling up at a hovering pegasus who is munching down on a cupcake.)

Pinkie: (as she lifts off) Have a wonderful, special, fantastic day! (trotting across shop floor) Oh, hi, Discord. Want some cake?

(Sitting in the middle of said floor, near the stairs, is a gray cardboard box whose flaps open after she has passed o.s. The chaos master puts his head out, his antler and horn back where they belong, and gets a bit of a scare when she whips back to him.)

Pinkie: I can give you a list of all the flavors we have— (He climbs out and retreats; she hops along to box him in against a wall.) —in order of “most delicious” to “incredibly, unbelievably delicious.”

Discord: Actually, Pinkie Pie, who are you taking to… (Stammer.) …I mean, do you…

(He trails off again, scraping the nearest candy-cane column with his talons forcefully enough to gouge the wood, and finally turns to face her.)

Discord: Oh, you know what? (hovering, floating across room) I am famished. I’ll take all the cakes.

(The blue eyes constrict to dumbstruck points; zoom in quickly on the pink baker.)

Pinkie: All of them? (grabbing/shaking camera; huge grin) He wants all of the cakes!

(The draconequus placing this massive order is now lounging against a display case, and he holds this position as Pinkie zips madly back and forth, supplies flying every which way.)

Discord: Well, I’ll need all my energy when I’m dancing at the Gala—if I decide to go, that is. Oh, by the way, are you bringing anypony?

Pinkie: (now o.s.) Oh, of course!

(She holds a cake into view above an open box; cut to her.)

Pinkie: (dropping it in, jamming lid shut) I was gonna ask my mom because she’s, you know, my mom. (getting another box) But it turned out she didn’t want to go— (emptying a tray of cupcakes into this one) —so I started asking around and around and around.

(On the end of this, Discord turns away from her with a look of pure boredom that quickly shifts into bug-eyed shock. Cut to his perspective, looking out an open window at a busy Ponyville street. As Pinkie prattles on, the view zooms in quickly to a close-up of two mares at the far end of the block; one is Fluttershy, while the other is a light green earth pony mare wearing her two-tone reddish-pink mane/tail in dreadlocks. A flowered orange kerchief is tied over the mane, the eyes are light violet and half-closed with prominent brows, and her cutie mark is a tree whose boughs are red and trimmed into a heart shape. Based on the way in which the two mares are talking and laughing, this must be Tree Hugger. A set of crosshairs superimposes itself on the pair, zeroing in on Tree and then flashing red—he has found the source of his troubles.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) I couldn’t think of anypony and I was about to just go by myself, and then I realized, “Of course!”

(Back to Discord; who has pulled a submarine periscope down from the ceiling to eye out the pair. On the start of the next line, he folds up the handles and lets the scope retract.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) Who loves fancy exciting affairs more than anypony else? (Zoom out to frame her, several boxes now stacked up nearby.) My sister Maud!

Discord: You know what? Cancel my order.

(She gets another monkey wrench thrown into her mental gears, and his abrupt disappearance leaves her standing alone—with dozens of boxes now stacked up to cover most of the shop floor.)

Pinkie: You want none of the cakes now?!?

(She flops wearily onto the display case counter. Cut to Fluttershy and Tree rounding a corner.)

Fluttershy: (giggling) Oh, my. You are funny. (Discord shoves his head up between them.)

Discord: (very snarky) I guess every being in Equestria is funny today. (He snakes through the air to stand facing away from them.)

Fluttershy: Oh, how rude of me. Tree Hugger, this is Discord. Discord, Tree Hugger.

(The out-of-towner crosses to Discord, her slow voice broadcasting a concentrated mixture of “New Age space case” and “heavy-duty hippie.”)

Tree: Radical to meet you. Really digging your vibe. (He turns to her, eyes glowing red.)

Discord: (incredulously) My vibe?

Fluttershy: It’s a compliment. (He straightens up with a smile.)

Discord: (chuckling) Oh, well, I’m sure it is. Well, I must be off.

(He disappears, but pops back in an instant later without his good cheer.)

Discord: It has nothing to do with seeing you or not seeing you, you can rest assured of that.

(A chuckle, and he goes bye-bye again only to return in very short order.)

Discord: (nastily) Have fun at the Gala!

(His wink-out is accompanied by pulling the taloned forelimb down his face to stretch it out.)

Tree: Righteous!

(A pale green reptilian winged beast glides across the screen, the view behind it wiping to an area that seems to have been designed to laugh in the face of as many natural laws as possible. Rickety rope/plank bridges and contorted railroad tracks connect one surreally landscaped floating island to another; in some cases; only one end of a walkway is connected to anything. The backdrop is a swirling maelstrom of purplish hues and streaks. Tilt up and stop on a long shot of one airborne landmass that holds a small, garishly colored, otherwise normal-looking house. The flying reptile makes another pass before the camera cuts to a living room inside, where the idiocy continues in ways that include upside-down windows and stairs and a coffee table with a hole through its middle. The front door opens, but Discord forgoes it in favor of zapping into the middle of the room.)

Discord: (mocking Fluttershy’s tone) “Oh, Tree Hugger, you’re such a great friend. So much funnier than unfunny old Discord.”

(The door slams shut on its own, causing a pitcher to fall off the table and shatter. Taking note of the mess, he conjures up a knotted kerchief on his head, rubber gloves on his forelimbs, a host of cleaning tools, and an apron to cover the rest of himself. Close-up of a couch, which floats away to expose a literal dust bunny on the carpet by the wall.)

Discord: (from o.s., setting another one down near it) “No, no, here. Take my plus-one.” (He leans down into view.) “I insist.”

(Cut to just outside one front window; he has removed the glove from his taloned limb, and a pair of broken-down socks and slippers can now be seen on his hind legs.)

Discord: (slightly muffled by glass, magicking a squeegee over it) “Before somepony else thinks he’s my friend and expects to be asked instead.”

(This line ends with a derisive chuckle. Cut to him at the kitchen sink inside, both gloves back on and hard at the job of washing a stack of clean dishes—turning them dirty in the process.)

Discord: “What’s that? You’re worried Discord might be upset? Not a problem!” (own voice) I can make more new friends anytime I want. (clumping to couch) It’s not as if any of this actually mattered! (He flops down onto it.) I didn’t even want to go to the Gala anyway!

(His crossed-arm pout is broken off by the sound of a frightened yell from outside. Cut to somewhere above the house’s “lawn”; an earth pony mail carrier stallion floats past, cartwheeling helplessly through the atmosphere and yelling all the while. One nimble grab by Discord’s lion paw reels him in; the nutcase has stripped off all of his cleaning attire and recovered his usual smooth demeanor.)

Discord: Are you perhaps looking for me? (The stallion speaks with a noticeable lisp.)

Mail carrier: Are you… (pulling out/reading envelope) …”Discord or Current Resident”? I can’t find any street numbers in this place.

(The talons pluck the envelope from his grasp, and it slits itself open at a searching gaze from the red eyes. Out floats a gold ticket; Discord throws the envelope aside and grabs this, instantly all smiles.)

Discord: My ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala! (shoving it in carrier’s face) I was invited after all!

(The hapless pony has no immediate response, and his continuing lack of one when Discord pulls the ticket away deflates the latter’s high spirits. The carrier begins to shake with fear, which is not helped by Discord leaning down to aim a squint-eyed glare straight at him.)

Discord: (softly, menacingly) Why is this so late?

Mail carrier: Well, I got a little lost after I escaped the flying badgers. Can you point me in the direction of the bottomless pit? (Discord straightens up.) I think I can make my way back from there.

Discord: (letting him go to float off, walking away) Oh, over there somewhere. Just—just go over there. (He stops and glares daggers at the ticket.) Looks like I’ll see you at the Gala after all, Fluttershy.

(His mouth twists up into a cruel smile; as he continues, the carrier drifts by in the background and is promptly snagged by a flying purple dinosaur something-or-other.)

Discord: But I can’t show up alone. She’ll think that she’s my only friend. (stroking chin) Who could I bring on such short notice?

(A moment’s thought leads him to snap his fingers and smile broadly, followed by a malicious little chuckle. Zoom in slowly and snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to the entrance hall of Canterlot Castle, filled with well-dressed ponies—the Grand Galloping Gala has begun, just as in “The Best Night Ever.” And, just as in that episode, Twilight and Princess Celestia stand side by side in their greeter positions at the top of the stairs. The open doors expose the evening sky beyond the walls.)

Celestia: I must say…

(Head-on view of the two Princesses. Celestia has traded her gold necklace for a loose-fitting gown in multiple shades of pink, marked with sun patterns and jewelry, and wears a small star pin at one shoulder. Twilight is in a light blue dress with wing holes, short foreleg sleeves, and darker blue flowers at collar and hem. A light orange bow is tied at her back, and most of her mane is gathered at the back of her head.)

Celestia: …it’s been very nice having you take over some of the planning responsibilities for this year’s Gala.

Twilight: Anything I can do to make it easier on you.

Celestia: Thank you, Twilight. I am quite looking forward to just enjoying the Gala for once.

(A trumpet fanfare sounds; cut to an earth pony herald stallion blowing the melody at his post just inside the castle entrance.)

Herald: Announcing the Spirit of Chaos, Discord, and his guest, the…uh…

(Said Spirit of Chaos leans down to whisper in his ear, exposing a bright orange jacket sleeve. The herald’s eyes register worry once he hears the news and Discord backs off.)

Herald: …the Smooze!

(Zoom out quickly to frame Discord striding in, as well as a second herald at the other side of the entrance. Orange tuxedo jacket and top hat; off-white ruffled shirt; red bow tie, cummerbund, and hat band; walking stick gripped in his lion paw. Behind him is a blobby silhouette, which slowly squelches into the light; cut to a close-up of its base and tilt up. Translucent, lurid green, slimy; red bow tie set below a mouth that is the only facial feature; light blue top hat with dark blue band. The Smooze is now on the scene, the mouth curving into a goofy smile. Ponies all over the entrance hall voice terrified gasps, one mare fainting for good measure. Discord’s jacket, as well as every outfit he changes into during the rest of this episode, has holes cut for his wings.)

Discord: Good evening, everypony! What a glorious affair!

(The herald who did not blow the fanfare gets his trumpet yanked out of his grip by a tendril of the Smooze’s protoplasm, and it is promptly engulfed.)

Discord: He does have a yen for shiny things. (patting “head”) The rascal.

(When he pulls his lion paw away, a ribbon of gunk goes along with it. After a moment’s thought, he wipes it off on the shirt front of the announcing herald. Neither Twilight nor Celestia can believe their eyes; Twilight is first to recover her speech.)

Twilight: I’ll take care of this.

(She takes off down the stairs at high speed, bulldozing Discord back as he and the Smooze advance along the red carpet. The gelatinous mass lets go with a belch from his brassy repast; she hovers at Discord’s eye level.)

Twilight: What are you doing here with…that?

Discord: (nudging hat up with stick) Now, now, now. The Smooze may be an “it,” but it’s an “it” with a heart of, well…blob.

(Twilight is far from reassured, and the sight of the Smooze leaving a trail of slime behind himself as he oozes along does not help the general mood of revulsion one bit. He turns off to one side, having spotted the jewelry worn by a couple of mares who clear out as he approaches.)

Twilight: This night is extremely important to me, Discord. (She throws a smile and wave to Celestia.) Keep it under control!

Discord: (dismissively, nudging her away with stick) Yes, yes, yes, of course. (walking off) Tell me, have you seen Fluttershy anywhere?

(Cut to the ballroom, the Crusaders walking past in the fore.)

Crusaders: We’re here! We’re here! We made it to the Gala!

(Behind them come Applejack and Rarity, both wearing expressions that suggest they would rather have their teeth pulled than revisit their earlier social disaster. However, they allow themselves a small knowing smile—“let ’em figure it out.” Applejack: short-sleeved dress in various shades of green with a flower pattern on the blouse and accented with red roses, matching top hat with a red apple on the band. Rarity: magenta gown with blue trim at collar/hem/ruffle, blue gems at collar, violet flower above tail; gem brooch; mane piled high in curls; small “fascinator” hat with feathers and jewels. Discord strides in, stick tucked under his lion-paw forelimb and a giant diamond held in his talons. The Smooze follows right behind; Discord stops and lets the stone fall over his shoulder, and the blob eagerly gobbles it down, glowing briefly and exhibiting just a bit of growth.)

(Pan quickly away from them and stop on a group of tables near the stage, where Fluttershy and Tree are talking and laughing at one. Fluttershy: short-sleeved blue gown with light green trim, holes for her wings, and a skirt styled to resemble a peacock’s plumage; small green-feathered headdress; part of her mane coiled into a tight spiral that rests behind one ear. Tree: simple, long-sleeved, light pink shift with yellow edging at hem and sleeve cuffs, garland of flowers in her mane instead of her kerchief; gold necklace with a blue stone. Spike stands off to one side, ready to dig into a jewel-studded cupcake. Zoom in quickly to a close-up of the yellow pegasus.)

Fluttershy: Really? (Back to Discord, giddy at the sight, then cut to the two on the start of the following.)

Tree: The aura coming off the waterfall was so alive! So, like, magic and manifestation.

Fluttershy: Wow.

(Zoom out as Discord and the Smooze make their way over; Discord walking backwards, he bumps into Fluttershy, having disposed of his walking stick.)

Discord: (feigning surprise) Oh, Fluttershy! I didn’t see you there.

Fluttershy: (to Tree) How did you even know to look for an aura on a waterfall?

(Caught out at being ignored, he clears his throat once, twice, three times. Each repetition grows in length and volume until he achieves a hacking cough that finally gets Fluttershy’s attention.)

Fluttershy: Discord! I thought you weren’t coming.

Discord: No, I actually never said that. But funny how you remembered it that way. (to Tree) Anyway, good to see you, Tree…Friend, is it? Your name is slipping my mind right now; how strange.

(These last two words are delivered with a malicious grin.)

Tree: Nice to meet you. I’m Tree Hugger. (Extend a hoof.) Blessings.

(Her nonchalance takes all the wind out of his attempt at offense—at least until he works up a new batch of indignation.)

Discord: You have met me before, actually! (He snorts out steam.)

Tree: Cool! Like, in another life, maybe?

(The fit of pique turns into complete confusion—“can she really be this far out in left field?”)

Discord: You’ve gotta be kidding! You don’t remember me?

(He pulls off his top hat and points to the antler and horn underneath it to drive the point home.)

Tree: (chuckling) I meet a lot of different creatures, each one of them perfect and unique. (He straightens up, hat back on.)

Discord: Yes, well, as I was saying— (leaning down to Fluttershy, putting lion paw around her shoulders) —it’s just great to be here with my oldest, bestest friend.

Fluttershy: Am I really your oldest, bestest friend? (Discord stands up to full height.)

Discord: You? (laughing derisively) Oh, of course not. (floating back and forth around table) You think I don’t have other friends? I’m centuries old! (returning to stare Fluttershy down) I was talking about the Smooze.

(Now he zips a few feet away to where the green glob is hanging out.)

Discord: (throwing a forelimb around him, getting a smile) Smooze-face, the Smoozinator, (He stands up.) Well, I mean, that’s what we called him back in college.

(A flash allows him to teleport himself back to the two mares’ table, holding a mildly perturbed Smooze aloft.)

Discord: Smooze… (Plunk him down.) …I would like you to meet Fluttershy and, um… (Mumbling for several seconds.) …Tree, uh, what is it? Oh, uh, Tree Embrace?

(Again he makes with the nasty grin.)

Tree: (smiling) Oh! I like that! It’s so in rhythm with my life force. (Gasp; the Smooze starts to extend a runnel toward her.) Maybe I’ll change it!

(Discord notices the lengthening blot and smacks it away, almost driving the Smooze into Fluttershy’s face. She just giggles.)

Fluttershy: (petting Smooze; he slides off the table) I can’t believe I’ve never heard you speak of the Smooze before. Sounds like you two are so close.

Discord: (offended) Well, I’m glad you got that. (smirking) Because that’s what is true. We are.

(A blink later, he has teleported across the ballroom to hoist the Smooze off the tiles.)

Discord: Very close.

Fluttershy: That’s wonderful! The four of us should go out to dinner sometime.

(The walking anatomical mishmash is so gobsmacked by this suggestion that he squeezes hard enough to pop the Smooze’s “head” clean off. The two giant slime wads slither away from him and reform into one; now Discord rounds angrily on Fluttershy.)

Discord: “We should all go out to dinner sometime”?!? Have you no heart?

(Comes now a scream from elsewhere in the ballroom. Cut to old Mr. Waddle, being used as an equine shield by an equally elderly mare—his wife, no doubt—as the Smooze crawls their way.)

Discord: Oh, oh! (leaning close, shielding eyes for a better look) It looks like somepony wants to mingle. We’ll be back in a bit. (He floats off.)

Fluttershy: Oh, okay. Treezie and I would love to talk to you more later. (A quick return.)

Discord: (contemptuously) “Treezie.” Really? Sort of a juvenile nickname, don’t you think?

(Here come a crash of glass and another scream; he looks off in their general direction.)

Discord: Smoozie! (hurrying off) Wait up!

(Fluttershy and Tree exchange warm smiles, if slightly puzzled ones. Dissolve to a long shot of a set of closed doors at the periphery of the ballroom and zoom in through the crowd as Discord pushes the Smooze over to these.)

Discord: Now listen, Smooze. I need to make this a party of one for a little while.

(Cut to a courtyard just outside the doors; they open and he shoves the Smooze through.)

Discord: Just stay out here until I come for you.

(Back he goes, closing the doors and completely missing the distraught set of the Smooze’s mouth. Extreme close-up of the knobs inside; he turns a key in one lock, then glances across the ballroom, surprise writing itself in three-inch letters across his face. Cut to Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow, Bloom, Scootaloo, and Tree giggling over a shared joke and zoom in slowly. Rainbow’s gown is blue with white sashes looped around her wings; white stars and hem edging to resemble a night sky full of clouds; gold accent fabric and blue gem at the throat; mane combed forward to curl under one ear. Discord poofs into existence in the middle of the group and joins in the laughter, altogether missing the fact that the other six go dead silent at the same moment. It takes him several seconds to wind down.)

Tree: What’s so funny?

Discord: (elbowing her) Exactly!

(Cringes and odd looks from Applejack, Rainbow, Bloom, and Scootaloo.)

Rainbow: Uh… (as all four back away slowly) …I think we’re gonna go hit the dance floor. (Discord drapes a forelimb over Fluttershy’s shoulders.)

Discord: (shoving Tree o.s.) Fluttershy, tell the Hugs here about the time that we went to the store and came back with two cakes instead of one— (Zoom out to frame Tree.) —because that’s how crazy we are when we’re together.

(He lets his eyes spin in their sockets on the word “crazy,” then points expectantly at the pegasus in a “take it away” gesture once he finishes. Long pause.)

Fluttershy: Um, we went to the store and got two cakes.

(Here endeth the narrative, if her pinched-in mouth is any indication.)

Discord: (deflated) Oh. Well, you kind of left out all the fun and frivolity there— (smiling, leaning over to Tree) —but I’m sure you got it, Tree Hugger.

Tree: I got that you really like cake. (That gets his dander up.)

Discord: We like each other! That was the point! (He stands to full height.) I’m actually pretty lukewarm about the cake.

(For the third time this act, the peace is broken by a shrill cry from o.s. Cut to the double doors that Discord locked to shut the Smooze out of the ballroom; they shake under a relentless pounding from outside.)

Rarity: (from outside, through doors) LET ME IN!!

(Panic grips both Twilight and Celestia, both now in the ballroom, and the newer Princess gets her hooves moving. Extreme close-up of the key as her magic turns it in the lock and removes it; the doors burst open to reveal a white unicorn spattered from end to end with the Smooze’s green muck. Gasping for breath, she manages a few halting steps into the ballroom before collapsing in a sodden heap on the floor. One front hoof displays a white slipper, while the other is covered with slime, and the dress hem and short sleeves are set with violet jewels that could not be seen in her earlier entrance.)

Rarity: That creature took my jewels!

(Pan quickly to the courtyard, where “that creature” cheerfully sucks the ornamental piece off a mare’s head from behind. His top hat and bow tie are now flecked with his own slime. The stallion accompanying this mare reacts with unmixed horror and gallops off; she does not notice the theft until it has already occurred and left a blot of slime on her ear. As she races off, Twilight runs an eye over the scene and wheels to throw a gimlet-eyed glare into the ballroom.)

Twilight: Discord…  (walking slowly back toward him) …I thought I told you to keep your friend under control!

Discord: Oh, please. I have better things to do than to watch that thing all night.

(Finding himself on the wrong end of disappointed looks from her, Fluttershy, and Tree—the last of these mixed with a healthy dose of halfway-out-of-it—he shifts into a weak chuckle and tries to get his groove back.)

Discord: What I mean to say is— (briefly throwing paw around Twilight’s shoulders) —that thing is a dear, dear friend, and I’ll make sure that the ooze, uh, that he can’t help but secrete doesn’t get on anypony else.

(Cut to a close-up of the dismayed, disgustingly soiled Rarity and zoom out. He flashes over next to her, a wheeled “canister” vacuum cleaner on the floor alongside. Flicking the power switch with his tail, he proceeds to suck up all the residue in an instant—along with every stitch and accessory in the fussy unicorn’s outfit. Another flick shuts off the vacuum; once Rarity realizes what has happened, she stands up onto her hind legs with a mortified grimace, covers herself with her forelegs, and begins to sidestep away as best she can.)

Twilight: Thank you. (addressing the crowd) It’s all right, everypony. Let’s just get back to enjoying this magical evening!

(Conversation resumes. Cut to Discord and pan slowly to follow him through the room. He has put a collar around the Smooze’s “neck” and is dragging him along on a leash.)

Discord: You are making me look like a fool in front of Fluttershy.

(Extreme close-up of a closed door. He reaches into view and opens it, exposing blackness beyond, and the view shifts to frame both again.)

Discord: (pushing Smooze inside) I’ll be back when the Gala is over.

(Step out. Slam door shut with tail. Cut to the Smooze, collar gone and turning away from the door with some consternation; this only lasts for a moment until he smiles and licks his chops eagerly. The camera tracks quickly around to stop behind him and frame the entire room: a small storage area filled with shelf on shelf of glittering bounty. Chests and bags of gold coins, crowns, loose gems, gold plates, crystal goblets—enough to make any self-respecting pirate wet his pants out of sheer unbridled avarice. Tilt slowly up to the topmost shelves and fade to white.)

(Fade in immediately to an overhead shot of the ballroom and tilt up slightly to frame a chandelier, on which Discord reappears. Its bowl shape is large enough for him to stand in, and he flicks his gaze back and forth in close-up. The sound of Fluttershy’s giggling catches his ear.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Oh, Tree Hugger. (Cut to these two.) I’ve never known anypony as funny as you.

(She touches her dreadlocked friend’s shoulder, the camera zooming in to an extreme close-up of it for a moment before cutting back to Discord. He rears up, face twisted into an expression of the purest fury at hearing her words from the prologue applied to any other creature. Fire kindles in his eyes and the tips of his ears, and a burst of green flame washes over his entire form as he disappears.)

(At ground level, the camera pans slowly through the ballroom for a moment before all the lights go out, accompanied by the clunk of a master switch being thrown. The sudden dimness throws the ponies into confused mutterings, which cease once a whine of speaker feedback cuts in.)

Discord: (from o.s., amplified) Check, check…check.

(Cut to him, now standing on the stage and spotlit against a red brick wall backdrop. A stool stands to one side, holding a glass of water, and he is speaking into a microphone on a stand.)

Discord: (tapping mic) Is this thing on? (He pulls it loose.) Good evening, fillies and germs! I just flew into Canterlot— (flapping wings) —and wow, are my inter-species parts tired!

(Neither this joke, nor the drum sting played after it, gets even a flicker of response from the crowd. Discord waits a beat, then pulls the brim of his top hat all the way to the ground and bursts out through its crown, kicking the remains aside. Now he wears a shiny red zip-up windbreaker in place of his tuxedo jacket and shirt.)

Discord: I’ve only got these tiny mismatched wings, and even I can fly better that Twilight Sparkle. Am I right? (Another sting; he winks and gives a finger-gun gesture.) Pa-chew!

(Cut to Twilight, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity, and Celestia at the back of the room. Of the five, only Pinkie and Celestia give any hint of enjoying this stand-up comedy routine. Rarity is fully dressed again, having either brought a duplicate for the outfit Discord vacuumed off her or taken back and cleaned the original. Pinkie’s dress, the only one not seen up to this point, is a light yellow polka-dot affair with a gold necklace; she wears a lavender/white bow in her mane and matching clips styled as pieces of hard candy.)

Twilight: (needled) Hey!

(Celestia giggles behind a hoof; onstage, Discord chuckles weakly before deciding to shift gears.)

Discord: Uh, well, perhaps you’re into more observational humor.

(He magicks himself away, then immediately opens a tiny portal just big enough to shove his head through. The glass of water is gone from the stool now.)

Discord: (un-amplified) Did you ever notice how you always materialize out of thin air?

(The rest of him emerges except for half of one forelimb, having switched the red jacket for a blue sportcoat, white shirt with undone collar, and loose red necktie. His voice comes through amplified again, as he has brought the mic along with him.)

Discord: Why not thick air? (He pulls the limb out.) What’s the deal there?

(A third sting; a third lack of audience response, except for a soft cough from one mare up front.)

Discord: (aside, off mic, pulling at tie) Tough crowd!

Twilight: (to Pinkie, Rainbow) What is he doing? (More of Pinkie’s dress can now be seen—lavender/white-striped front, white lace trim.)

Rainbow: I-I think they’re…jokes?

(Pinkie throws a huge grin at these two, then turns to her other side. This motion exposes the light violet under-skirt on her dress, as well as her older sister Maud—plain, long-sleeved blue dress studded with bits of rocks and minerals. The stolid demeanor and monotonic voice she exhibited in “Maud Pie” are still front and center.)

Pinkie: Maud! Jokes!

Maud: My favorite.

Discord: (from o.s., muffled, under previous line) You might be a Ponyville pony if…

(Cut to a long shot of a closed door behind the audience and zoom in slowly on it as white light begins to glimmer around the edges of the frame.)

Discord: (from o.s., muffled) …an ordinary night on the town ends with a lesson about friendship.

(Back to the stage; a watermelon appears on the stool, and Discord leans over it. Now he has ditched the sportcoat/shirt/tie for a red-white-striped sweater and dark blue-gray vest and cap, and he has also put away the microphone.)

Discord: (rapping on melon) Knock-knock!

(Dead silence from the audience for a good four seconds, prompting him to frustration.)

Discord: You’re supposed to say, “Who’s there?” This is the most basic of jokes!

(Producing a large wooden mallet out of nowhere, he proceeds to pulverize the hapless fruit in one blow. Gobbets of pulp and seeds fly in all directions; Maud and several other guests take the hit, but Pinkie ducks behind her and is spared.)

Maud: You’re the most basic of jokes. (That gets a laugh; Pinkie falls happily against her.)

Pinkie: Good one, Maud! (Giggle.)

(The shown-up stand-up joker watches the crowd with complete disbelief, one eye twitching ever so slightly, then shifts into an enraged scowl. Cut to a long shot of that closed door, the light shining even more strongly around its edges, and zoom in slowly. One colt who has happened to catch sight of this phenomenon shivers, hooves frozen in place by naked fear. Now the glow subsides and a torrent of lurid green goop spills into the ballroom, through the gap between the knob side of the door and its frame. This can only have been the treasure storage room where Discord stashed the Smooze. The sheer force of the flow slowly pushes the door open, the colt’s terror grows, and Twilight turns away from the stage for a good look.)

Twilight: (pointing, eyes popping) What is that?

(Only now does Discord look up from his dejected funk, in time for the viscous tide to gush over the entire ballroom floor and wash up to fill the screen. Fade to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to panicked ponies racing every which way through the rapidly rising swamp that covers the floor. The room lights that Discord shut off for his abysmal comedy routine have come back on. The mess quickly expands over the patch of floor where Rainbow is standing; Sweetie, behind her, and other nearby spectators have already been dirtied by it. Try as she might, she is unable to lift off, the gluey stuff yanking her back to the floor. Discord, now out of his sweater/vest/cap, leans down worriedly over the edge of the stage and grins upon seeing the Smooze’s bow tie and top hat float past.)

(Extreme close-up of one patch as a couple of magic blasts punch into it, with no effect except to open holes that quickly seal themselves. The shooter is Twilight, who is also wearing a healthy dose of the glop.)

Twilight: None of my magic works on this ooze! (turning to Celestia, also gunked up) Can you stop it?

(The white sovereign focuses her power, but the blob stuck on the tip of her horn soaks it all up, inflates like a bubble, and bursts.)

Celestia: I’m afraid not! (Discord floats past overhead.)

Twilight: Discord, how could you bring him here?!?

Discord: (drawing paw through the slime) Oh, he’s not that bad.

(Close-up of Rarity’s chest and forelegs, one of which she pulls out of the mess with a cry of revulsion, then zoom out. It is now up to both her and Applejack’s knee/hock level; Bloom, meanwhile, has half-ducked her head in and is blowing bubbles.)

Rarity: My shoes will be ruined forever!

Applejack: (dryly) That’s what you’re worried about? Really?

(Elsewhere, Fluttershy and Tree are stuck spreadeagle to a window—Tree upside down—and Pinkie stands atop Maud, using an oar to propel her along as a raft. The older sister is, at least, clean of watermelon residue.)

Tree: This is kind of a bummer. (A window-washing scaffold descends into view overhead; Discord lounges on this.)

Discord: Isn’t it, though? And to think, it never would’ve happened— (Close-up of Fluttershy; he continues o.s.) —had I come to the Gala as somepony else’s plus-one!

(He leans into view next to her on the end of this, injecting a double shot of venom into his words. Cut to Tree on the start of the next line.)

Tree: Seems like something might’ve harshed his flow, you know? Like, his senses are agitated. (Discord zips over to stare her down, inverting himself.)

Discord: You don’t know anything about rare creatures. (He floats over the ballroom and pats the slime.) I’ve known Smooze-face for ages. (dancing in midair) He’s not agitated, he’s partying down! Woo!

Tree: All he needs is some, like, calming auditory therapy. (Big surprise from Discord; Fluttershy smiles.) I know I always feel really at peace when I’m being bathed in positive vibes. Maybe he’ll calm down with some sonic bliss. (Discord faces her again, right side up this time.)

Discord: Do you even know what you just said?

(Paying him the proper amount of heed—that is to say, none at all—the nature lover begins to vocalize. Long, steady mid-range tones alternate with high-pitched ululations; Discord straightens up, at a total loss for words, and finds that the ocean of Smooze has begun to oscillate gently in several spots. The mass slowly recedes, a beaming “face” emerging from his central portion, and Fluttershy and Tree slowly slide down the window to rest on the floor.)

Tree: Let go, Smooze. Bliss out.

(The auditory therapy continues, causing the slime to drain away from Applejack/Rarity/Bloom and the Smooze to consolidate into a single towering pile at the center of the ballroom. Once Tree stops, he smiles in close-up and the camera zooms out quickly to frame the six Ponyville mares, along with Sweetie and Tree. Not a speck of wayward Smooze can be seen.)

Sweetie: It worked! (Cheers all around.)

Rainbow: Way to go, Tree Hugger!

Fluttershy: (hugging Tree briefly) That was the most magical thing I’ve ever seen done with animals!

(Discord, peeking out from behind the Smooze, grinds his teeth hard enough to throw sparks.)

Tree: Oh, thanks, everypony. (Slow pan across the others; she continues o.s.) It makes perfect karmic sense your magic doesn’t work on him. (Back to her.) He only responds to vibrations that peace out his energy fields.

Discord: (from o.s., on his last good nerve) Stop it! (He jumps out from behind the Smooze.) Stop it! (He swoops over to get in Tree’s face.) That’s it! I am done with you, Tree Hugger!

Tree: Oh, man, you’re really bummin’ me out. Can you just, like, lower your voice a scoche?

Discord: (flabbergasted) A scoche? A scoche? 

(Extending his talons to full length, he drags them down through a patch of empty air, leaving brilliant gouges that meld into a single blinding gash. The edges pull apart to uncover a blue-glowing portal, and a gesture from the draconequus causes Tree to slide across the floor toward him and go airborne. She stops just short of the aperture.)

Tree: (fearfully) Whoa, dude!

(Cut to its interior: an oval-shaped patch ringed by the blue maelstrom, showing a child’s live-action drawing of an apple tree and a house. A red, sombrero-clad, mustachioed sock puppet lopes into view.)

Tree: (from o.s., pointing) What is that? (Back to her and Discord.)

Discord: Relax! I’m not going to hurt you, I’m simply going to send you to another dimension. I can’t have you interfering in my relationship with Fluttershy anymore!

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Discord! (His eyes pop; she flies up to him.) Stop!

Discord: I will— (gesturing to Tree) —just as soon as she’s gone!

(As he continues, he conjures up the table and tea set they used in the prologue; both end up seated on stools, and he is already holding his cup.)

Discord: Then we can have a good laugh about this whole affair over our regular Tuesday tea. (Sip.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Don’t worry, Fluttershy! (Pan quickly to her and the other Ponyville mares.) We’ll stop him!

(Discord inverts his cup, letting a single drop dribble from the rim and swell into a mirrored disco ball. The cup is thrown away and the ball lifted on one digit; right on cue, here comes the Smooze, mouth dropping open in anticipation of a new treat. It is thrown to the floor, bouncing past the boggling quintet, and the squishy behemoth wastes no time in slithering after it and snagging all of them in his bulk. Horrified screams and a trail of goo are left in his wake.)

Discord: (lion paw around Fluttershy’s shoulders) I’m doing her a favor, Fluttershy. It’s a lovely dimension.

(The table and tea set are now gone. He teleports to a point in midair, back in his original formal ensemble and holding a microphone, and a picture appears next to him—a sun-baked desert framed by flashing lights.)

Discord: (amplified, into mic) White sand beaches… (Picture change: a somberly dressed farmer couple, the stallion holding a pitchfork.) …an attentive wait staff…I mean, okay, the humidity isn’t great, but where isn’t that the case these days?

Fluttershy: I don’t understand why you’re doing this! We were all getting along so well!

(He whips over to her, the formalwear, picture, and microphone gone.)

Discord: (petulantly) As well as we could— (turning his back) —considering you’ve already stomped all over our friendship by inviting her to the biggest night of the year!

(The camera cuts to a saddened Tree after “her,” then back to Fluttershy and Discord once he finishes.)

Discord: As if I didn’t matter at all!

Fluttershy: Did you really think I’d abandon you just because I have a new friend?

Discord: Yes! Because that’s what you did!

Fluttershy: No, Discord! I invited a friend to a party! I didn’t abandon you! What if you had a friend that you could discuss chaos-based magic with? (Discord strokes his chin, thinking.) Would that mean we weren’t friends anymore?

(His rancor melts into chastened uncertainty.)

Discord: (stammering a bit) Uh…no, I suppose not. It would just mean that I’d have different friends for…different things. Oh…oh. (smiling sheepishly) Oh, dear, it looks like I’ve perhaps overreacted just a scoach [sic].

(He holds two digits on his lion paw a tiny distance apart to make his point, but she is far from mollified.)

Fluttershy: More like a lot of scoches! (smiling, addressing herself o.s.) Tree Hugger…

(Cut to the still-floating, mostly-zoned-out mare.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) …could you give us a minute?

(She gives a tranquil smile and nod; back to the quarreling pair.)

Discord: I’m just so new at this whole friendship thing. (touching Fluttershy’s shoulders ;she turns away) It’s so much more complicated than it looks. (She turns back to him.)

Fluttershy: Do you think maybe you owe somepony an apology? (He produces a flower, but she just slaps it away.) Not me!

Discord: Oh…oh. (Clear throat.) Yes, right.

(A talon snap dispels the portal he has left open and drops Tree to the floor, where she makes a perfect four-point landing on a conveniently placed cushion. This in turn winks out a moment later; she settles onto the tiles, and Fluttershy swoops down and gives her a hug. The Smooze, however, has paid no mind to this reconciliation and is slowly bearing down on Celestia and a knot of guests, with Fluttershy’s five longtime friends still caught up in his glop. Discord reaches in with his talons and, in one swift yank, extracts all the treasures that had been in the storage room. The Smooze instantly shrinks back to his original size, having had the effects of that massive eating binge reversed, and the mares are left hanging in midair. All six plop to the floor, and Discord zaps the valuables back to where they came from. Not a trace of slime is left on any furnishings or guests.)

(Cut to Fluttershy and Tree, and zoom out on the start of the next line to frame Discord crossing to them.)

Discord: Uh, Tree Hugger, I’m sorry that you got caught in the middle of my uh, you know… (under his breath) …wrath.

Tree: Oh, it’s all groovy.

(She finds herself caught up in a hug, which unsettles her a notch.)

Tree: (pushing him back) Um, I need, like, a few minutes to clear out my chakras before I can hug you from a place of authenticity.

Discord: (airily) Oh, your chakras. (Chuckle; she smiles.) Fair enough.

(Dissolve to a slow pan across the ballroom. The place is back in order, and guests pass here and there around the floor. The Crusaders are down here, as are Pinkie and Maud; the rest of the Ponyville contingent is onstage with the Smooze, and Discord leans against its edge. He has once again donned his tux and hat.)

Discord: I owe you an apology, Smooze. I spent the whole evening thinking about my own feelings and never thinking about yours.

(The blob plants a big gloppy kiss on his cheek.)

Discord: Well, friends! I think I may actually grow to like this multiple-friend thing.

Maud: I like it too.

Pinkie: Hey! It’s not a party until somepony spreads magic-resistant ooze uncontrollably over the ballroom!

(Cranking off a big squeaky grin, she zips onto the stage and wraps her forelegs around as much of the Smooze as she can reach.)

Pinkie: Come on, Smoozinator! (now slimed, hopping off stage) Let’s dance!

(He oozes after her, leaving a fresh trail, and the two get down to their own rhythms. Zoom out to frame Twilight and Celestia looking on. The shorter Princess turns dejectedly to the taller.)

Twilight: I’m sorry, Princess Celestia. (Profile close-up.) I-I thought I could give you a break tonight. But it turns out I was in over my head. (Zoom out to frame Celestia, smiling down at her, on the start of the following.)

Celestia: You have nothing to apologize for. This has been the most fun Gala in years!

Twilight: (still dejected) I know. It was a— (Now it hits her.) —what?!? But there was ooze all over the place! (circling to face her) A-And one of the guests threatened to send somepony to another dimension!

Celestia: I know! (spreading wings) Can you imagine how dull it would have been if I hadn’t invited Discord? (walking ahead, pushing Twilight along) Come on!

(She lets off a whoop; cut to an overhead shot of the ballroom and pan slowly.)

Celestia: The night is still young.

(She giggles softly as the Gala continues in force, with Pinkie and the Smooze shaking their groove things at the center of it all. Fade to black.)


THE LOST TREASURE OF GRIFFONSTONE

 

Written by Amy Keating Rogers

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by M.A. Larson

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Directed by Jim Miller

 

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

 

 

Prologue

 

(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of Sugarcube Corner, seen from across the street during the day. Zoom in slowly to the sound of Pinkie Pie’s cheerful singing, then dissolve to a close-up of her alligator Gummy standing on a kitchen counter inside. He does little more than blink as a few more notes and a couple of dollops of batter come his way, the latter splattering all over him. The blue-violet eyes open through the gunk; on the start of the next line, zoom out to frame Pinkie sitting on her haunches next to the counter. She has donned a white chef’s toque and is mixing up a bowl of batter, having already gotten quite a bit of it on her headwear and herself.)

 

Pinkie: This is gonna be so great, Gummy! (whirling spoon through batter; he is hit in the face again) We have absolutely nothing to do today except bake!

 

(On the end of this, she stands up to her hind legs, spreading her forelegs wide, then haunch-sits in a happy little huddle for a moment. At the same time, her half-hidden cutie mark emits a couple of brief pulses of light, as it did when she and her friends were called to their mission in Part One of “The Cutie Map.” She does not take any notice, instead popping up next to a stovetop on which a pot is steaming away.)

 

Pinkie: (stirring it quickly) I’ve been waiting for just the right time to finally try Granny Pie’s super-special, triple chocolate fifteen-layer marjolaine recipe!

 

(As she describes the dish, the camera jumps closer in steps to an extreme close-up of her giddy expression. Now she whips back to the counter and her besmirched pet.)

 

Pinkie: It’s gonna be amazing!

 

(Only now does Gummy lick his face clean; she, meanwhile, is looking over several bowls of ingredients.)

 

Pinkie: Let’s see. Nutty meringue…chocolate ganache…praline and nuts…cocoa-flavored buttercream…

 

(The dip of one front hoof into this last gives her a generous sample, which she scarfs up by wrapping her tongue around the appendage and reeling it back in. It seems to meet with her approval. Her mark sounds off again, but goes unheeded.)

 

Pinkie: (hopping to oven) An hour per layer. That’s fifteen hours of pure baking bliss!

 

(The door is opened, exposing a sheet cake inside. Snatching a potholder in her teeth, she gets it wrapped around the edge so she can safely remove the cake; a tap of one hind leg closes the oven, and she deposits the cake on a cooling rack that stands next to Gummy. A third blip from the balloons on her haunch fails to get her attention.)

 

Pinkie: Okay, Gummy. (Close-up.) I think we’re ready to start prepping the second layer.

 

(A series of pulses catches her off guard, and the camera zooms out slightly as she finally looks back at her mark and scrubs away the splotch of batter with her tail to expose it fully.)

 

Pinkie: Oh my gosh! My cutie mark! (Gasp; she points at it and addresses the o.s. Gummy.) You know what this means?!?

 

(Cut to the impassive reptile, now cleaned up; she leans in close next to him, eyes cut suspiciously across the room. The summons has stopped.)

 

Pinkie: (whispering loudly) The map!

 

(As she glares at him, he lashes out his tongue to snap up a blot at the corner of her eye. She drops out of sight, there is the sound of the door closing, and the camera cuts to frame her opening it from outside to peek in. Now she too is clean and has put away her toque.)

 

Pinkie: Uh, Gummy, could you take over for a bit? Hopefully this’ll be quick.

 

(He lets off an almost inaudible grunt in close-up; zoom out to frame her pouring up a cupful of one dry ingredient.)

 

Pinkie: I’ll just measure the baking powder for you… (Big squeaky grin; she ducks behind.) …and when the first layer cools— (miming the next step) —you can drizzle some of the ganache over it.

 

(Away she goes, only to return on his other side, a wire whisk gripped in her forelock.)

 

Pinkie: (singsong, twirling it) And don’t forget to beat the egg whites for the meringue!

 

(Her cutie mark chooses this moment to pipe up again briefly. Close-up of Gummy.)

 

Pinkie: (from o.s., shoving whisk handle into his mouth sideways) I know you can do this, Gummy. (The baking powder can and cup are pushed to him; zoom out to frame her.) You’re the best alligator baker I’ve ever met.

 

(A kiss on his snout sends a little pink heart floating into the air as she hops away, her exit marked by the sound of the door’s closing. The weight of the kitchen utensil now lodged in his jaws causes him to overbalance ever so slowly until he finally topples onto his face, but he shows no reaction except for one asynchronous blink. Fade to black.)

 

 

OPENING THEME

 

 

Act One

 

(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of an ancient, gnarled tree that has been converted into a settlement. Houses are ringed around the base of its trunk, others run along the twisting courses of the warped branches, and still more are nestled into the crevices of the bark. Near the apex is a castle whose structure consists primarily of a single spiraling tower. The entire arrangement—tree and all—stands imposingly against a glowing green background until the top half of Twilight Sparkle’s face looms up behind it, slightly out of focus to block out this light. The “long shot” is actually an extreme close-up of a tiny scale model, and the focus shifts to her.)

 

Twilight: This is so exciting!

 

(Zoom out to frame both her and Pinkie looking at this creation, which is part of the map on the central table in her throne room. Images of both Pinkie’s and Rainbow Dash’s cutie marks are circling above it. The green light is cast by one of the room’s stained-glass windows.)

 

Twilight: The map is summoning you to Griffonstone— (looking away) —the very heart of the Griffon Kingdom!

 

(An overhead shot of the room picks out Rainbow, slumped sullenly on her own throne. Twilight floats an open book across the room toward herself.)

 

Twilight: I don’t know if either of you have read Bygone Griffons of Greatness— (walking past Rainbow with it) —but griffons were known to be—

Rainbow: —rude, insensitive bullies? (Twilight lowers the book.)

Twilight: You mean Gilda?

Rainbow: Yeah, I mean Gilda! When she came to Ponyville, she was a total jerk to all my friends, especially Pinkie Pie. (Cut to Pinkie, sitting upside down on her throne with head off the front edge.)

Pinkie: (turning head upright) She was a bit of a party pooper.

Rainbow: (nodding) Mmm-hmm.

 

(They are remembering the circumstances of Gilda’s visit to Ponyville in “Griffon the Brush Off.”)

 

Twilight: So maybe Gilda was a little rude. (crossing in front of her) You still get to go to Griffonstone. And according to this book— (opening to a new page; Pinkie leans over to see) —it has a rich, fascinating history.

 

(Dissolve to an illustration that shows several griffons, nearly all clad in gold crowns/collars/helmets, quarreling over piles of gold coins. Pan slowly across the conflict, which is taking place under a sky at the last edge of sunset. The style of the picture is similar to those that might be found in medieval books.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) In ancient times, griffons were known to be as greedy as dragons, always hoarding their bits and other treasures.

 

(Dissolve to a sunlit gathering: a crowned figure, visible only in silhouette, addresses an awestruck crowd. Above its head floats a small gold statuette of a stylized figure topped with flames. Zoom out slowly.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) But all that changed when King Grover found the mysterious golden Idol of Boreas.

 

(Another dissolve: now the statuette rests on a stump pedestal inside a castle, watched over by armored guards and under the eye of the crowned griffon, King Grover. Visible behind him are the steps leading up to his throne. The Idol of Boreas can now be seen in more detail, resembling a flaming nest mounted on two bird legs and containing a multicolored egg. Zoom in slowly.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) Legend says, the Idol of Boreas was made from the dust of golden sunsets blown across the mountains by the north winds.

 

(Dissolve to a long shot of the castle and tilt down through the reaches of the tree that forms the foundation for Griffonstone. Inhabitants fly proudly back and forth in their gleaming finery.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) Possessing the Idol of Boreas filled the griffons’ hearts with pride. It’s said that that one great treasure is responsible for turning Griffonstone into the most majestic kingdom of all the land.

 

(Cut back to her and Pinkie. The history lesson comes to a most abrupt end when an unimpressed Rainbow reaches over and shuts the book, leaving it to fall onto the map table.)

 

Rainbow: And why do you care so much about griffons, anyway?

Twilight: It was actually Gilda’s visit that made me curious. (floating book up) So I picked up Bygone Griffons of Greatness. (walking away with it; Rainbow goes the other direction) And I’ve been hooked ever since!

 

(Close-up of miniature Griffonstone.)

 

Twilight: (from o.s.) And now… (She leans over it with a sigh.) …now you two get to see Griffonstone with your very own eyes. (Pinkie leans over her head, pushing it down.)

Pinkie: Huh? (Move aside.) Just me and Rainbow Dash? (Cut to Rainbow, haunches plunked on throne.)

Rainbow: Hey, you can totally take my place if you want. (yawning, lying down)  I still have half a nap to finish.

Pinkie: (to Twilight) Why don’t you just come with us? I mean, you are the Princess of Friendship.

Twilight: (increasingly snarky tone; zoom in slowly) No, no. If the map wanted me to go to the coolest kingdom in all of Equestria and tour the palace and see the actual idol that unites an entire species, which would be super-amazing, I’m sure it would have said so.

 

(Shifting back to a tranquil smile, she dispels the map to leave the table bare.)

 

Twilight: You two can handle whatever the issue is just fine. (Snark creeps back into her voice.) I’ll stay here and do important princess-y things, I guess.

Pinkie: (zipping to a slumped-over Rainbow) Well, then, come on, Dashie! (hopping away) We’re going to Griffonstone!

 

(The daredevil rolls her eyes with a groan and lifts her head.)

 

Rainbow: Fine. (Pinkie doubles back.)

Pinkie: That’s the spirit!

 

(She produces a party favor and blows it in Rainbow’s face before zooming away again; the latter just glares daggers after her. Dissolve to a stretch of blue sky and tilt down to the sound of a train whistle. A set of tracks winds through a stretch of land marked by mostly barren trees and framed by mountains at the horizon, and a train chugs up over a hill and into view. Steam from its locomotive drifts past to fill the screen; behind its trailing edge, the view wipes to the interior of one car. The two travelers have taken bench-style seats facing one another and are both lying on their bellies; Rainbow is uninterestedly looking through a booklet with a picture of a griffon on the cover. Pinkie sits up to her haunches as the conductor pushes a cart loaded with snacks into view along the aisle.) 

 

Pinkie: Whatcha reading, Rainbow? (Rainbow lowers the booklet and groans.)

Rainbow: Twilight literally wrote a book on what we need to do in Griffonstone. (Pinkie goes to work collecting mass quantities of sweets from the cart.)

Pinkie: You mean like a guide on how to figure out what problem we’re supposed to fix? (Rainbow now has the booklet on her head.)

Rainbow: And then some. (Sit up to her haunches; plunk it on the seat.) It’s like Twilight herself in book form.

 

(In an instant, she has straightened her forelock into a near-perfect duplicate of the straight cut favored by the egghead Princess.)

 

Rainbow: (reading, imitating Twilight) “Always carry plenty of bits. The griffons are sure to help you as long as you share the wealth.”

 

(She shuts the covers and snaps back to her normal style, eyes bugging out as she realizes what Pinkie has done. Namely: buy up the cart’s entire inventory and give over a weighty sack of legal tender as payment. The conductor goes on his way, now having to use no small effort to push the cart along, and Rainbow aims a quizzical glance at Pinkie and her very full mouth. The pink mare swallows whatever she has been chewing on.)

 

Pinkie: (sheepishly) Uh…can I borrow some bits?

 

(To which the blue pegasus rolls her eyes disgustedly and puts a hoof to her face. Dissolve to the now-stopped train, the rooftop of a station visible behind it. This pulls out, exposing Pinkie and Rainbow on the platform and toting saddlebags for travel. Behind them, the station building is designed with talon-like roof projections, as well as a round upper-story side window with a perch underneath to resemble the entrance to a birdhouse. The whole facility has seen better days, judging from the stains, warped platform boards, and broken steps.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) Upon arriving at Griffon Gorge— (Rainbow tightens a strap; Pinkie plops more gear onto her back, earning a dirty look.) —be sure to pause and cast your eyes northerly, up the Hyperborean Mountains—

 

(They turn their eyes off to one side, the camera tilting up to frame a deeply cleft peak; Griffonstone can just be discerned on one side of the fissure.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) —taking in the breathtaking beauty of Griffonstone.

 

(Dissolve to the pair moving along a narrow mountain trail—Rainbow walking point, Pinkie hopping behind, and both now wearing warm winter hats.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) Once in Griffonstone proper— (Tilt slowly up the sheer rock face, cut by trail switchbacks.) —go immediately to the palace, and introduce yourself to the king.

 

(Another dissolve frames Rainbow by herself at a higher altitude; snow is visible on the next level up. She stops short and throws a puzzled look down over the side as the sound of Pinkie’s hopping drifts up.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) Bygone Griffons of Greatness was written a long time ago—

 

(On the end of this, zoom out to show the pink ball of energy bounding nimbly from one free-standing crag to another, sure in her movements like a mountain goat.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) —and it ends with the coronation of the fourteenth king of the griffons, King Guto.

 

(The end of this line is accompanied by Pinkie reaching Rainbow with a big grin, followed by a dissolve that shows the pair advancing across a natural bridge.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) I have no idea who’s in charge now.

 

(Dissolve to within a crevasse, the camera pointing straight up out of it. Rainbow leaps across first, then Pinkie, whose landing dislodges a cascade of small rocks.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) Tell the king you’ve been sent by the Princess of Friendship, and you’re there to help with some sort of problem.

 

(One stone falls directly toward the camera to black out the screen. Fade in to the pair moving ahead—both walking now, Pinkie in the lead, Rainbow flagging a bit. Pinkie stops and points ahead, and both smile.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) If for some reason the king can’t help— (Long shot of Griffonstone on its high peak, zooming out to frame Pinkie.) —I’d try the Griffonstone library next. It’s a little-known secret— (Rainbow’s jaw drops, but quickly puts on a grin to match Pinkie’s.) —that if you befriend a librarian, you can usually find out anything.

 

(The blue flyer’s bad attitude settles back in once Pinkie has moved far enough ahead not to pick up on it.)

 

Twilight: (voice over, giddily) Plus, as a bonus— (Long overhead shot of them on the trail; zoom out slowly.) —there’s a statue of King Grover outside. (Giggle.) Photo op!

 

(Dissolve to a long shot of them walking toward a large gold archway that spans the trail, set with several pairs of red/gold bird wings. Their destination is visible through it in the near distance.)

 

Twilight: (voice over) And don’t forget to sample some famous griffon scones. (Close-up of them, passing through the archway.) They’re supposed to be the best.

Pinkie: Aw, Twilight shoulda come along. Then she coulda seen first-hoof that Griffonstone is—

 

(Her voice and all eight hooves stop abruptly, and those big blue eyes shrink to flabbergasted points as her mouth falls open. Cut to a shot of the vaunted kingdom that is close enough to pick it out in full detail. The houses are little more than thatched-roof shacks in various states of disrepair, the tree is a withered old hulk whose branches hold only a few nests with more houses, and the castle—whose tower has mostly collapsed—stands on a stone walkway farther back. Sour-faced griffons perch on the roofs and fly back and forth as the camera zooms out to frame the extent of the urban decay that has set in.)

 

Pinkie: (from o.s.) …a total dump!

 

(Snap to black.)

 

 

Act Two

 

(Opening shot: fade in to the upper reaches of the less-than-impressive tree. A griffon lights on one branch, which promptly breaks partway under the added weight and scares the new arrival into going airborne again. Tilt down to Pinkie and Rainbow walking among the shanties and their dour residents; the two ponies have removed their winter hats.)

 

*** From this point on, any character who is not named, and whose species is not explicitly stated, may be assumed to be a griffon. ***

 

Rainbow: Ugh…maybe the map should’ve called Rarity instead of us. (Close-up; they stop.)

Pinkie: E-Excuse me… (Zoom out; she is addressing a portly male crossing the road.) …sir?

 

 (He pays no mind whatever until she gets in his face.)

 

Pinkie: This is Griffonstone, right?

 

(Without a word, he wraps the taloned digits of one foreleg around her face, sets her to one side, and resumes walking. Rainbow crosses to her.)

 

Pinkie: Well, that wasn’t very nice.

Rainbow: See? These griffons are exactly what I thought they’d be!

Pinkie: Maybe we should just find the palace so we can ask the king what’s going on.

Gilda: (from o.s., contemptuously) We don’t have a king…

 

(Pan slightly to follow Pinkie’s over-shoulder glance and frame Rainbow’s former friend glaring from a few yards away. Gilda is in as foul a temper as when she stormed out of Ponyville way back when.)

 

Gilda: …losers.

Rainbow: (acidly) Hello, Gilda.

Gilda: Dash.

Pinkie: (brightly) Pinkie!

 

(Zoom out quickly on this last word to frame all three; she has stood up to her hind legs, but even this move does nothing to defuse the tension. She drops back to all fours.)

 

Rainbow: (to Gilda) What are you doing here?

Gilda: Uh, I’m a griffon. What’s your excuse, dweebs? (Pinkie gets in her face.)

Pinkie: Hey! These dweebs are here to help Griffonstone! (She ends with one foreleg raised for emphasis, but Gilda shoves it down.)

Gilda: (mockingly) Help it what?

Pinkie: (backing off, unnerved) Well, uh, we’re not really sure. (smiling) But it involves a map and cutie marks and problem [sic] and—

Gilda: (walking past) Bored now!

 

(Head-on view of the too-hip-for-the-room flyer. On the start of the next line, she stops and the camera shifts slightly to frame Pinkie and Rainbow still holding their positions.)

 

Pinkie: Well, if you don’t have a king, can you at least tell us where the Idol of Boreas is? (Gilda turns with a harsh laugh.)

Gilda: Don’t tell me you really believe in that thing.

(A male voice catches her off guard—old and crotchety, with traces of an Irish brogue.)

Male voice: You’d better believe in it!

(She glares to one side from the corner of her eye; pan quickly in that direction and stop on one house’s cobweb-filled upper story-window. Here sits the speaker, Gruff, who coughs out a lungful of dust as he leans forward into the light. Head covered with liver spots and completely bald except for dark gray eyebrows and a few last small tufts of feathers over the ears; one eye scarred and blind; fringe of light gray plumage at the neck; medium gray fur on body; dark gray wings. He wears a gold-trimmed red fez, which falls off his head when he tumbles backward and out of sight. Tilt down to follow his clattering progress; he kicks his front door open, the hat back in place.)

 

Gruff: The Idol was the best thing to ever happen to us griffons!

Gilda: (rolling eyes) Oh, great. Now you got Grandpa Gruff started! (He clomps past her to face Pinkie and Rainbow.)

Gruff: I’ll tell you the whole tragic tale…

 

(Extreme close-up of the useless eye, zooming out as his whole face crinkles in half-mad giggling.)

 

Gruff: …for a couple of bits.

 

(He holds out a palm.  Rainbow looks at it, then at Pinkie, who just throws her a shaky grin; finally she groans wearily and two coins drop into the oldster’s grip. He stares avariciously down at them and bites on one—the old prospector’s trick of seeing whether a gold piece is real. After working it back and forth for a moment, he seems satisfied and removes his fez so he can place the two bits on his head. Setting the cover back in place over them, he begins his tale.)

 

Gruff: The first griffon king, King Grover— (Cut to Pinkie and Rainbow; rapt attention and irritation, respectively; he continues o.s.) —united our kind like we’ve never been united before or since. (Back to him.) And he did it all with that incredible Idol of Boreas.

 

(On the end of this, zoom out slightly to frame Gilda standing just behind him and mimicking his gestures. Realizing at this point that something might be amiss, he glares back at her; she ends her dumb-show just in time to play innocent. Pinkie stifles a laugh; back to the two griffons on the start of the following.)

 

Gruff: (overwrought) And that idol brought pride to the heart of every griffon that saw it! (recovering himself) From one king to the next, Griffonstone and our golden idol were the envy of all other species.

 

(As he finishes, dissolve to an illustration of the Idol on its stump pedestal in the throne room of Grover’s castle. Zoom out slowly to frame the guards on duty and the sovereign on his throne—a nest at the top of the steps seen in Twilight’s Act One recounting. Where that set of visuals resembled medieval book illustrations, this batch might be more at home in an action comic book.)

 

Gruff: (voice over) It held us together, gave us an identity—right up until the reign of King Guto.

 

(Dissolve to a profile close-up of this king, Guto, as he finishes. Lightning cracks outside the castle, illuminating the silhouette of a one-eyed goat-like behemoth just beyond the glass. Once the glare fades, the outline remains barely visible; the eye, though, is still very clear. The thing smashes through the window, revealing a furred humanoid body in various shades of gray and gold bracelets and rings, as well as a dark gray, gold-trimmed turban.)

 

Gruff: (voice over) That’s when Arimaspi came to steal our griffon treasure! (He makes short work of the guards.) King Guto tried to fight him off— (Overhead shot of them, zooming out to become a reflection in his eye, he catches sight of the Idol.) —but Arimaspi managed to get away with the Idol!

 

(Long shot of the castle exterior under a mass of boiling black clouds. Arimaspi crashes out through one wall, the Idol’s glint shining in one giant hand, and flees across a bridge as guards take to the air in chase. He slides to a halt, finding that the whole squad has pulled ahead to cut him off at the far end. A lightning bolt slices through the bridge between him and them, and he drops into a yawning gulf whose bottom disappears into an endless void. On the start of the next line, dissolve to a profile of the downcast Guto on his throne and zoom out to frame the rest of the room: bereft of guards, pedestal standing empty, windows and walls smashed.)

 

Gruff: (voice over, near tears) They say when our treasure fell into the Abysmal Abyss, our pride went with it.

 

(Guto fades from sight as color fades into the scene, marking a transition back to the present. The general air of decay worsens as well.)

 

Gruff: (voice over, bitterly) King Guto was the last king of Griffonstone— (He stands up into view to finish the line.) —and we all lived miserably ever after.

 

(He half-lunged toward Pinkie, Rainbow, and Gilda, who are all here as well.)

 

Gruff: The end! (Cut to Pinkie.)

Pinkie: (tearing up, voice breaking) That was the saddest story ever!

Gruff: (stroking her chin) Oh, well…tough tail feathers! No refunds! (He lifts off; she collects herself and addresses Rainbow.)

Pinkie: No wonder Twilight’s book ended with the coronation of King Guto. Who would want to record a history that sad?

Gilda: (from o.s.) It’s not sad! (Cut to her; Gruff lands alongside and makes to exit through a wrecked wall.) Do we look sad to you?

 

(Her grandfather gets hung up trying to climb through the hole that time and battle have gouged. Cut to a close-up of the ruined stump pedestal and tilt up to frame the two mares standing on the side opposite the camera; Rainbow gets a brainstorm after a moment’s hard thought.)

 

Rainbow: Pinkie, I think I know why the map sent us here! We need to find the Idol of Boreas and bring glory and pride back to Griffonstone! (Zoom out; Gilda, hovering nearby, voices a dismissive laugh.)

Gilda: Here we go. Typical pony hero complex. None of us care about that dumb old idol. Don’t you get it? We don’t care about anything— (Extreme close-up.) —and that’s the way we like it! (Zoom out; Pinkie is now on her back.)

Pinkie: I think Rainbow Dash is right. The map sent us here to fix some sort of problem.

Gilda: The only problem Griffonstone has is YOU!

 

(One good heave slings the goofball straight up, and Gilda cuts a quick U-turn to fly out through a hole in the wall. Pinkie falls back into view and down again, a loud bonk marking her contact with the floor, and stands up to gaze after the departing griffon. She puts a hoof to her chin in deep thought at Rainbow hovers near the pedestal.)

 

Rainbow: Well, I don’t care what she says. We’re gonna find that treasure— (Pinkie smiles.) —make Griffonstone cool again, and get back to Ponyville. Come on!

 

(She launches herself into a high-speed charge, but hits the brakes at her partner’s next words.)

 

Pinkie: Oh, wait, Rainbow Dash! What about Twilight’s advice?

Rainbow: What, taking a bunch of pictures?

Pinkie: She mentioned finding answers at the library.

 

(Accurate this is, but it only leads to the reference booklet being flung into her face; this falls to the floor, the camera cutting to a close-up of it.)

 

Rainbow: (from o.s.) Knock yourself out. (Back to her.) But when you get bored with Twilight’s tour book, I’ll be at the Abysmal Abyss finding the Idol of Boreas.

 

(Off she goes, leaving the magenta-maned nut to put her little gray cells into gear. From here, cut to the interior of a rather gloomy-looking shop. Rainbow rockets in through the front batwing doors and down the stairs, landing in her best dramatic pose.)

 

Rainbow: I’m here to find your missing idol and save Griffonstone!

 

(Her big proud grin is met with no response at all; she deflates a bit after a moment, and the camera cuts to a long shot of the shop. Among the items on display are assorted ropes, tarps, and nets, suggesting a camping or outdoor supply store. The shopkeeper, female, aims a pair of very bored eyes at her while slumping over the counter; said eyes have pale brown shading around them and are half-hidden by a cloth cap. The cobwebs that dot the inventory speak to how little business this place gets, and one of the doors falls off its hinges due to neglect and/or the force of Rainbow’s entrance, prompting the shopkeeper to stand up so that the edge of her vest can now be seen.)

 

Rainbow: Uh, I’ll need some rope, a grappling hook, and a guide to take me down to the Abysmal Abyss.

Shopkeeper: (holding out a palm) And I’ll need some bits.

 

(Rainbow makes a tiny disgusted noise in the back of her throat at this bit of fiscal brazenness. Dissolve to a long shot of Griffonstone proper; Gilda tows a cart across the dismal clearing, while Pinkie hops after her. The vehicle is equipped with shelves to display wares for sale and has an oven attached to its rear end, and the roof is marked with a large model of an indeterminate baked item.)

 

Pinkie: Hey, Gilda! (Closer shot of the two; she starts to catch up.) Word on the street is that Griffonstone has an amazing library chock-full of answers. (Both stop.)

Gilda: Word on what street?

Pinkie: Okay, maybe not this street. But on other streets, your library is the talk of the town.

Gilda: (gesturing ahead) The library’s right there, so why don’t you go inside and leave me alone?!?

 

(The unlikely bibliophile gets quite an unpleasant surprise upon finding that the library has been reduced to a crazy tumble of bookshelves and loose volumes, all lying exposed to the elements in what might once have been an actual building. Cut to a close-up of one open book on the ground, showing evidence of pages ripped out; Pinkie’s hooves step into view here, a shocked gasp floating down. Cut to her, walking through the detritus.)

 

Pinkie: Maybe it’s good that Twilight didn’t come.

 

(She stops short. Cut to a close-up of a statue that depicts an imposing male, with wings spread and talons bared for a strike. An open book covers most of the face, but the points of a crown are left exposed. Like the rest of Griffonstone, it shows abundant effects of the ravages of time. Zoom out to frame Pinkie staring up at it, then cut to another close-up as she clambers up to the face. Based on Twilight’s guide, this figure must be Grover.)

 

Pinkie: It’s sad what happened to your town, King. (pulling book away) But Rainbow Dash can’t be right. This can’t all be because of a missing hunk of gold.

 

(She nips down out of sight, then reappears behind the head to “speak” for the stone form and work the cracked lower mandible of its beak.)

 

Pinkie: (from one side of mouth) You’re right, Pinkie, and you’ve got amazing hair! (Resume original position and voice; snuggle up to him.) Aw, King Grover, you old charmer.

 

(Down she goes; a moment later the damaged mandible falls off. Back on the ground, Gilda has unhitched herself from the cart and is clamping its harness onto a boulder to serve as an anchor. Pinkie watches as two males—one of them carrying a bit—run headfirst into one another, neither paying any attention to where he is going. They glare at each other with open hostility, which continues even after they sidestep to continue their walks; Pinkie gasps happily as an idea strikes.)

 

Pinkie: I know what Griffonstone needs! (Gilda is now dropping misshapen lumps of material onto her cart’s shelves.)

Gilda: Fewer ponies?

Pinkie: (jumping up) A song! I’ve got a super song about smiling that’s sure to make even the most grumpy griffon grin!

 

(She pulls in as much air as her lungs can hold to launch into it. Before she can even start the first note, though, Gilda claps a palm over her mouth.)

 

Gilda: Can’t sing here!

 

(She points along the road, the camera panning quickly in that direction to stop on a sign that displays a silhouette of a singing griffon surrounded by musical notes. A red circle and slash are superimposed on the image to denote the prohibition.)

 

Pinkie: (from o.s.) But— (Sigh; zoom out to frame her by the sign.) —how do you break into uplifting musical numbers with no singing?

Gilda: (sarcastically) Yeah. That’s Griffonstone’s biggest problem—lack of uplifting musical numbers.

Pinkie: Well, if I can’t sing, how about a party? If there’s one thing these griffons need, it’s some good cheer. (giddily) Where’s your party store?

 

(Gilda’s only answer is a glare that would burn a hole through inch-thick steel plate, if there were any handy.)

 

Pinkie: No party store? Uh…how about cake? Nothing cheers folks up like cake. Where’s the bakery?

 

(Now the grumpy griffon allows herself a fed-up groan.)

 

Pinkie: (shaking Gilda) No singing? No party store? No bakery? WHAT IS THIS PLACE?!?!?

Gilda: (with rising fury and volume) You’re welcome to leave at any time!

 

(The end of this line carries enough force to blow Pinkie o.s. A camera-shaking thud marks her impact; cut to her, embedded spreadeagle in the wall of a house and looking more than a bit confused as to exactly how she got there. Gravity slowly peels her loose and drops her o.s., leading to the inevitable consequence of a second thud that puts the camera through its paces, and she stands up.)

 

Pinkie: Well, that just takes the cake! (Pause.) Wait! No! (pacing) It can’t take the cake ’cause there is no cake! Or muffins! Or griffon scones!

Gilda: Oh, we got griffon scones. (gesturing toward her cart, now fully stocked) That’s my specialty. (Pinkie flashes over to her.)

Pinkie: I’ll buy one!

 

(The talons pluck a most irregular baked item—which appears to have bits of twigs and straw embedded in it—off the cart and hold it out. Pinkie opens wide and nips at it, only for Gilda to yank it out of reach at the last possible instant.)

 

Gilda: (holding out other palm) Bits first!

 

(After a moment’s pondering, Pinkie pulls sharply down on her forelock and lets go so that it springs back up into place. A bit is propelled out of the frizzy magenta strands to land on her hoof; she promptly passes this over and gets the whole scone stuffed into her mouth. As she struggles mightily to crunch it down, a steady stream of snaps, crackles, and pops—and other noises that have absolutely no business arising from contact of teeth with pastry—is her reward.)

 

Gilda: (impatiently) Well? (Cut to Pinkie; she continues o.s.) What? (The pair again.) You like it? (smugly) That’s my Grandpa Gruff’s secret recipe.

 

(A twinge of pain shoots through the pink baker’s face.)

 

Pinkie: (slightly garbled) Ow! I think I broke a tooth!

Gilda: (sourly) Well, whatever. No refunds. I don’t even care anyway. I just want to sell enough of these so I can leave this lousy town.

 

(Spitting away the last fragment, Pinkie gets her mouth clear and smiles.)

 

Pinkie: I can help you with that.

 

(She grins widely, showing just how much damage that scone has inflicted on her dental work. Dissolve to a tilt up from the depths of a broad gorge and stop at its edge, where two tiny silhouettes have stopped for a good hard look. Wind howls through the natural passage, which can only be the Abysmal Abyss. A close-up of the two figures reveals them to be Rainbow and the shopkeeper whose assistance she sought earlier. Both are wearing mining helmets with front-mounted lamps and saddlebags packed with gear; Rainbow has also donned a climbing harness, and the shopkeeper has ditched her vest. A strap runs from one side of Rainbow’s helmet to the other, passing under her chin with far too much slack to be of any use.)

 

Rainbow: Uh, you think you could tighten the strap on my helmet?

Shopkeeper: (holding out a palm) Can you give me more bits?

 

(With an irked groan, the pegasus nudges the helmet up a bit and cinches the strap with a wing.)

 

Rainbow: Never mind, I got it. (She moves closer to the edge.) So how deep is this abyss?

Shopkeeper: How deep are your pockets?

Rainbow: Don’t you griffons ever talk about anything but bits?

Shopkeeper: Gimme some bits and I’ll answer.

Rainbow: (aside, under her breath) No wonder Gilda’s such a delight.

 

(Wipe to Pinkie and Gilda at the cart. The mare takes a bite from the fresh scone balanced on her hoof and has no trouble chewing and swallowing.)

 

Pinkie: Grandpa Gruff’s recipe is good, but it’s missing one important ingredient.

Gilda: Don’t tell me. Friendship?

Pinkie: (slightly annoyed) Uh, no. Baking powder. (smiling, fishing a can of it out of her mane) Lucky for you I never leave home without it!

 

(Cut to inside the cart’s oven, the camera pointing out over the flames. She slides a tray of scones in, using oven mitts to protect her front hooves. This batch is more uniform and appealing in shape/color, without any random bits of protruding debris, and each is topped with an acorn.)

 

Pinkie: Now just pop those in the oven and you’ll have griffon scones worth their weight in gold.

 

(The first half of this line reverberates slightly in the small space; this effect ends when the camera cuts back to her and Gilda. An over-enthusiastic gesture sends one of the mitts into the beaked face. Cut to a female cruising overhead: same body/wing coloration as Gilda, but the feathers on top of her head are swept back rather than forward and tipped in light green to match the shading around her eyes. She also wears a gray scarf secured by a gold crescent-moon clip. This is Greta, who pauses her flight once the aroma from the oven drifts up to her level. A couple of sniffs later, here comes another flyer from behind, who plows her out of the way without a moment’s hesitation. Down at ground level, the camera shakes to the sound of Greta’s impact; zoom out to frame her laid out a few feet away, then cut to a close-up of a panicked Gilda. When Pinkie next appears on camera, she will have shed the mitt she did not inadvertently throw at the curmudgeonly griffon.)

 

Gilda: Greta! (She helps Greta up, only to get her arm thrown off as the latter skulks away.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) Aha! (Pan slightly to frame her.) I saw that, Gilda! (standing up to hind legs, crossing forelegs smugly) You may act like a gruff, grumbling griffon, but inside you’re gracious and great. (She drops to all fours.)

Gilda: What are you talking about?

Pinkie: You just helped your friend up when she got knocked down.

Gilda: (bitterly, glaring after Greta) What?

 

(Cut to the “friend,” now hunched down and stalking past a few dilapidated houses.)

 

Gilda: (from o.s.) Her? Greta’s just some griffon I know. (Back to her.) We don’t have friends here! (Sigh.) I did have a friend once—but you saw how that turned out.

 

(The remark about her broken friendship with Rainbow causes Pinkie’s entire face to go slack and her eyes to shrink to points and drift out of alignment. One terrible realization brings her fully back to herself.)

 

Pinkie: Oh my gosh! (galloping off) I gotta go find Rainbow Dash!

Gilda: See you.

 

(Dissolve to Rainbow and the shopkeeper stepping up to a crag overlooking the Abyss and zoom out. The air currents are doing their thing only a few yards down from the drop-off.)

 

Rainbow: (voice raised) You sure we can’t just fly down?

 

(She launches herself into empty space, wings beating furiously, only to be pushed back up…)

 

Rainbow: Whoa! (…and make a most graceless landing on the turf.) Never mind. (She stands up.) Totally got my answer there.

 

(Dissolve to a long shot of the edge. The shopkeeper, visible only in silhouette, stands here feeding out a rope that snakes down over the precipice and is tied to a nearby rock. A tilt down frames Rainbow on the other end, rappelling down the rock face.)

 

Rainbow: Just gotta find that golden idol and get outta this place!

 

(Close-up. She lowers herself o.s., not noticing when the rope becomes snagged on a small outcropping. It only takes a moment for the fibers to snap, sending her into a screaming plummet that turns into an uncontrollable swooping glide once the wind has its say. She is swept o.s.; there comes the sound of a thud, and the camera cuts to her, having fetched up on an uncomfortably small projection of rock. One hind leg shows visible signs of injury.)

 

Rainbow: Oh! Ow! Ooh! My hoof! (Zoom out overhead to the surface.) Help! Throw me another rope!

Shopkeeper: You got bits?

 

(The injured pegasus casts a frantic eye over her gear and shoots an imploring look back up to the surface. Since that look comes with no lucre, though, the griffon just shrugs and walks away. Back to Rainbow.)

 

Rainbow: Wait! (Zoom out quickly overhead.) HEEEEEEEE—

 

(The end of her entreaty is lost to the wind and distance as the zoom continues, now far over the Abyss. Clouds drift into view to fill the screen, and the view snaps to black.)

 

 

Act Three

 

(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of Rainbow bandaging her bad leg. After one last pull at the wrappings, she forces herself upright and gets her wings going in an attempt to lift off; the strong air flow buffets her upward and slams her into a vertical belly flop against the sheer rock surface. She slides down headfirst, ending up right back where she started, and lets go with a frustrated scream at full volume. Each of the next six lines echoes across the space, except for the one noted.)

 

Pinkie: (from o.s. above) There you are!

 

(Rainbow aims a popeyed stare up toward that voice; cut to just behind her head, the camera pointed toward Pinkie’s tiny figure hundreds of feet above.)

 

Pinkie: Forget about finding the Idol! I’ve figured out how to solve Griffonstone’s real problem! Scones! (She retreats from the edge.)

Rainbow: (no echo) PINKIE PIE, YOU GET BACK HERE!! (Pinkie returns.)

Pinkie: Yeah? (Cut to just behind her, looking down at Rainbow.)

Rainbow: Can you throw down a rope or something? (Back to Rainbow’s vantage point.)

Pinkie: Let me look! (Duck away, then back again.) One rope, coming up!

 

(The stranded explorer stretches both forelegs upward in desperate anticipation and is quickly rewarded when the end of a rope drops into view. Turn after turn pools around her—soon followed by the other end. Rainbow growls in the back of her throat and shoots a venomous look back up toward Pinkie over her failure to tie off one end or at least keep hold of it. Cut to the flustered pink mare.)

 

Pinkie: We need help! (She gallops off, but quickly returns.) Don’t go anywhere! (Off again.)

Rainbow: (sighing) Where does she think I’m gonna go?

 

(A section of her most precarious perch cracks and crumbles away, leaving her with no solid ground to rest on until she manages to scramble back onto the remainder. The spare rope goes down the hole in the process.)

 

Rainbow: (scared) I hope I don’t go anywhere!

 

(Dissolve to the oven opening at the rear of Gilda’s cart. She reaches in, using Pinkie’s oven mitts, and extracts the tray of scones that went in to bake during Act Two. A cautious nibble causes her eyes to widen in surprise—evidently the altered recipe is to her liking—but the sound of racing hooves cuts off any further taste testing.)

 

Pinkie: (galloping into view) Rainbow Dash is stuck on a ledge in the Abysmal Abyss— (Gilda removes the mitts.) —and I need your help to save her!

Gilda: Not my problem.

Pinkie: Of course it’s your problem! She’s your friend!

Gilda: Used to be.

Pinkie: Can’t you remember when she was?

Gilda: (wistfully) Yeah. (glancing skyward) Of course.

 

(Pan/tilt up to follow her eyes, the view going out of focus and undergoing a wavering dissolve to a flight camp built in and from the clouds. If not the same facility as the one seen during Fluttershy’s flashback in “The Cutie Mark Chronicles,” it is a very close relative. Pegasus colts and fillies fly about as the camera pans to the steps in front of a building entrance, where a small griffon figure can be seen in a long shot, walking out with a piece of luggage in its beak. After it stops and sits, putting the gear down, a close-up reveals it to be a very young, very nervous Gilda and a small carryall bag. She tries a few tentative flaps and manages to get a foot or two off the ground, but the blur of Filly RD’s low-altitude swoop startles her back down to the steps. The daredevil-to-be does not yet have her cutie mark.)

 

(After she has buzzed past, three colts fly up to glare mockingly down at Gilda: Dumbbell, Hoops, and Score—the three who got on Rainbow’s case both in the present during “Sonic Rainboom,” and during her youth in “The Cutie Mark Chronicles.” As in the latter episode, Colt Hoops is the only one of the three to have a cutie mark at this point in time.)

 

Colt Hoops: Doesn’t that griffon know that she’s supposed to fly at the Junior Speedsters Flight Camp?

 

(Any further taunting is pre-empted by a spray of cloud into the trio’s faces, caused by Filly RD skidding to a midair stop just short of them.)

 

Filly RD: Maybe she just doesn’t want to make you look bad.

 

(Down she goes with enough speed to clear the mist away, stopping in a hover just above the steps.)

 

Filly RD: Hey there. I’m Rainbow Dash. And you are…?

Young GI: (timidly) Uh…G-G-G-Gilda.

Filly RD: (jokingly) You sure about that? (Young GI manages a weak half-smile.) Stick with me, Gilda— (gesturing to the three colts) —and those guys won’t give you any more guff.

 

(She takes hold of one set of talons to lead the new arrival into the air, and within seconds they have picked up quite a bit of speed and begun to navigate a set of floating rings as an obstacle course. Young GI pulls ahead, cutting a tight corkscrew through the air.)

 

Filly RD: Whoa! You’re awesome!

Young GI: (giggling) You too, Rainbow Dash!

 

(She hurtles on, earning openmouthed stares from the three colts, and soon finds Filly RD flying by her side again.)

 

Filly RD: Well, Gilda, let’s show these guys how it’s done!

 

(Together, they plow through a cloud on which those guys are perched, smashing it apart and throwing them in all directions like a set of bowling pins. The two new friends regroup in midair and launch into a bit of improvised choreography for the following.)

 

Young GI:                                  Junior Speedsters are our lives,

Filly RD:                                    Sky-bound soars and daring dives.

Young GI, Filly RD:                 Junior Speedsters, it’s our quest

                                                    To someday be the very best!

 

(They end with a forelimb around each other’s shoulders, and the camera zooms out quickly from this flashback as the view “irises out” to black. The zoom continues into the present, the black resolving into the pupil of one of Gilda’s tear-filled eyes. She wipes it clear and lets her face harden into a glare.)

 

Gilda: Fine! I’ll help her. (crossing to Pinkie) But that doesn’t make me her friend.

Pinkie: Duly noted.

 

(Gilda stalks away; the earth pony cocks a knowing eyebrow at the camera.)

 

Pinkie: (singsong) Except it does!

 

(Dissolve to a close-up of what remains of the ledge on which Rainbow sits. A few more fragments crumble away, forcing her to scramble backward, and the camera tilts up to the extremely frightened blue face. A sharp updraft briefly threatens to pitch her away.)

 

Gilda: (from o.s. above) HANG ON, LOSER!!

 

(Up above, she and Pinkie have reached the cliff; Gilda has suited up and donned a mining helmet with lamp, and a climbing harness is cinched around her midsection. A rope connects this to an anchoring rock.)

 

Gilda: I’M COMING!! (She drops into the Abyss.)

Rainbow: (smiling, calling overhead) What took you so long, doofus?

 

(Gilda is flung into an upward somersault by a hard gust, but digs all her talons and claws into the stone to arrest her motion. The rest of Rainbow’s ledge collapses to drop her screaming out of view.)

 

Pinkie: RAINBOW DASH!! (looping tied-off end of rope around herself, galloping to edge) I’M COMING FOR YOU!!

 

(Without a moment’s hesitation, she hurls herself into the gulf. Gilda has time for one glance of total shock before she plunges past, yanking the griffon off the wall in a scatter of brown feathers. Rainbow plunges on, screaming every foot of the way, followed by Pinkie, and pink and blue hooves inch closer to each other as Gilda stares aghast.)

 

Pinkie: (seizing Rainbow) Gotcha!

 

(All three drop yelling out of sight, the camera shaking to mark their o.s. impact. Cut to them at a narrow spot in the Abyss; two rock spurs jut toward each other from opposite sides, with a narrow gap in between. Gilda has caught hold of one of these, straining to hold on against the combined weight of Pinkie and Rainbow at the other end of the rope. Something large and whitish rests directly in front of her, while the opposite ledge shows a fragment of something yellowish.)

 

Gilda: Hold on, you two!

 

(As she struggles to pull herself up, the camera cuts to within a small dark chamber, pointing directly out at her through a rounded aperture. She looks up with alarm.)

 

Gilda: Huh?

 

(Cut to her side, framing the aperture, and zoom out. What she has found is a gigantic, bleached skull with a single cavernous eye socket and two massive goat horns—the earthly remains of Arimaspi. She sucks in a sharp gasp, a gleam issuing from just behind her o.s., and a close-up of the other ledge reveals the source—the long-missing Idol, badly scratched up and half-buried in a scatter of gravel. Pan slightly to frame Gilda.)

 

Gilda: The Idol of Boreas!

 

(Keeping her other three limbs anchored in the rock, she stretches one set of talons across the gap and manages to nudge the item a bit closer.)

 

Rainbow: I’m slipping!

 

(A bit of rock breaks away to leave the Idol dangling over the Abyss, a hair away from going down for good. Gilda strains for it again as Pinkie and Rainbow scream for their lives…Gilda grimaces at the choice facing her: save two lives or reclaim her country’s heritage…and then the two ponies in peril find themselves being hauled up. Gilda has established a sure footing and is reeling them in; one last heave dumps all three onto her ledge, and they sit up just in time to see the Idol’s last support disintegrate. It tumbles into the deepest darkness of the Abyss.)

 

Rainbow: The Idol!

Gilda: You’re more important to me than some dumb chunk of gold.

 

(There follows a three-way group hug, which is cut short when the ledge begins to come apart.)

 

Pinkie: (looping/tightening rope around Rainbow’s midsection) Hugging later, climbing now!

 

(One more yank squeezes the wind out of the pegasus. In silhouette, Gilda begins to scale the rock wall, pulling both of them up behind her with very little time to spare before the spot they were resting in falls away entirely.)

 

(Dissolve to a long shot of Gilda leading them through Griffonstone; all three have shed their climbing equipment. Rainbow is flying to keep the weight off her bad hoof.)

 

Gilda: I’m really sorry about how I treated you two.

Rainbow: Thanks, Gilda.

Pinkie: Apology accepted.

Rainbow: And I’m just sorry we didn’t get your Idol back. (crushed) Now we’ll never be able to solve Griffonstone’s problem. (All stop.)

Pinkie: That’s what I was trying to tell you! The map didn’t send us here to find the lost Idol of Boreas, it sent us here to replace it with something better!

Gilda: (puzzled) Nothing’s better than gold to a griffon. (Pinkie throws a foreleg around her shoulders and pulls her close.)

Pinkie: That’s because you don’t have friendship! (She lets go.) If you can learn to care about each other again— (Close-up of Gilda; she continues o.s.) —Griffonstone could be a mightier kingdom than it ever was before!

 

(These words give her former adversary pause; cut to frame all three again.)

 

Pinkie: And you don’t need some golden idol to do that. You just need each other. (She stands up to her hind legs and spreads her forelegs wide.)

Rainbow: Whoa, Pinkie! That was… (face falls) …really sappy. (Pinkie is back on all fours.)

Pinkie: Eh, what can I say? (Greta walks past.) That’s how I roll. Go on, Gilda. (gesturing after her) Go make a friend!

 

(The griffon baker gathers her nerve, gets a tray of scones passed to her, and finds herself being pushed to fly after Greta.)

 

Rainbow: I don’t know, Pinkie. You really think these griffons are up for this?

 

(Down the road, Gilda is holding her baked goods tentatively out to Greta. The focus stays on Pinkie and Rainbow in the fore.)

 

Rainbow: We aren’t exactly in Ponyville, you know.

 

(Zoom in past them on the end of this and focus on the two locals. Greta initially shakes her head, but reaches to accept a scone when Gilda holds it up. Back up the road, Pinkie has dropped to her haunches and throws a knowing smile to the hovering Rainbow, standing up at the sound of Gilda’s voice.)

 

Gilda: (from o.s., excitedly) Okay. (flying back to them, touching down) So she was really weirded out until I gave her the scone! Then she tried it and said it tasted…good! That’s the first nice thing any griffon’s ever said to me!

 

(Cut to a close-up of Pinkie and Rainbow, seen from the back up and the head/forelegs forward, respectively. The sound of a flaring cutie mark is heard; zoom out to show that both ponies’ marks are going off.)

 

Rainbow: Whoa, Pinkie! I guess that really was the problem we needed to solve.

 

(Snap to a speckled light blue background, against which a can of baking powder appears on a white starburst. The party pony pops up next to it, her mark still pulsing. The slightly grainy, washed-out quality of the image, and the tinny, static-speckled sound of the next line, suggest a commercial being played through an old film projector.)

 

Pinkie: (standing up to hind legs) Baking powder makes baked goods and friendships fluffy and delicious!

 

(She cranks off a big squeaky grin, showing that the dental devastation inflicted by Gilda’s original rock-hard scones has been undone. Back to the here and now; both mares’ marks have quieted down again.)

 

Rainbow: Well, we better be heading home.

Gilda: (panicked) What? Y-You want me to spread friendship here by myself? How am I supposed to do that? I haven’t even made one single friend yet! (Rainbow flies over to her.)

Rainbow: No, you haven’t. (She backs up to a grinning Pinkie.) You’ve made two.

Pinkie: (about to cry from sheer joy) Hugging! Hugging now! (They do so.)

Gilda: But you’ll come back and visit…right? (Rainbow pulls loose to hover.)

Rainbow: Just try and stop us.

 

(Gilda finds the party pony still latched on to her and needs a bit of effort to pull her off. She and the pair go their separate ways—Gilda back into her hometown, Pinkie and Rainbow on the road out of it. A soft squawk draws Pinkie’s attention; cut to the source—Gilda and Greta standing at the statue of Grover that marks the ruined library. Both are enjoying scones from the tray that rests on the ground between them. Zoom in to a close-up of the statue’s head, a spark of light gleaming briefly from one deep-set eye, then cut back to Pinkie; the rear half of Rainbow’s body is also in view.)

 

Pinkie: (knowingly) See you later, you old charmer.

Rainbow: Uh, Pinkie? (Zoom out to frame all of her; Pinkie grins sheepishly.) Who are you talking to?

Pinkie: Nopony!

 

(Long shot of the winged archway marking the entrance to Griffonstone.)

 

Pinkie: (advancing into view with Rainbow) Come on. Let’s go home and see how Gummy did with Granny Pie’s marjolaine recipe.

 

(Fade to black.)

 

(Snap to the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner. It is exactly as Pinkie left it at the end of the prologue, right down to the last blob of spilled batter on the counter. Gummy is also right where she left him, not having moved a particle from the half-collapsed position he ended up in due to the wire whisk she shoved into his mouth. He lets go with a quiet grunt and an out-of-sync blink before the view snaps to black.)


SLICE OF LIFE

Written by M.A. Larson

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by M.A. Larson

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Directed by Jim Miller

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of a closed scrapbook resting on a table, its cover depicting the outlines of two donkeys about to kiss. Scissors, tape, photos, and an envelope are scattered around the book, and a wrinkled brown hoof reaches into view to open the cover. Among the items already in place on the pages are two photos of Cranky Doodle Donkey and his sweetheart Matilda. Zoom in to a close-up of one photo, which shows them in the theater district of Manehattan, then pan/tilt to the other one. Here, they stand within Cranky’s home as seen in “A Friend in Deed,” dressed for the cold and with cups of hot tea resting on the floor between them. In both snapshots, Matilda smiles broadly while Cranky glowers at the camera, wearing the blond toupee that Pinkie Pie gave him during their first encounter.)

(A page flip; now a third picture can be seen—taken at Twilight Sparkle’s coronation in “Magical Mystery Cure.” She and Princess Celestia stand proudly in the background, while only the upper portion of Cranky’s face is visible in the fore—the result of inept camera usage, no doubt. Zoom out to frame the facing page, which is empty; Matilda leans into view, applies glue to it from a stick held in her teeth, and sticks an ornately decorated sheet on top of this. A longer shot frames her in Cranky’s home, across from the fireplace and seated at the table; the glue stick has been set down. The sound of the door opening causes her to glance back over her shoulder, the camera panning to follow and framing Cranky entering the house. He sets a bag of fruit on the floor, the blond hairpiece still firmly in place. Through the open door, the sky shows the yellow of early morning.)

Cranky: I’ll never understand the ponies in this town. (He kicks the door shut and crosses to her.) Everywhere I went, they were all gussied up and lookin’ at me funny. Kept askin’ if I was nervous.

Matilda: Did they forget the wedding is tomorrow?

Cranky: (stepping closer, smiling/mumbling a bit) Maybe they’re just as excited for us to be married as I am. (They share a gentle laugh and nuzzle.)

Matilda: Well, they’re going to feel awfully silly when they realize they’ve got the wrong date.

(Both pairs of contented eyes turn toward the paper she has just added to the scrapbook—and a moment later they go wide with shock. Adding a gasp for good measure, Matilda sits bolt upright in her chair.)

Matilda: The invitations are wrong! (She holds up the book and points at the page.) This says the wedding is today!

Cranky: But I got such a good deal on them.

Matilda: Everypony in town got these! (She jumps off the chair; it and the book hit the floor.) The Princesses have even RSVP’d! (Trot nervously in place for a moment.)

Cranky: I told you we should’ve eloped!

Matilda: Oh, dear! The caterer…the flowers…the musicians! We’ve got to move it all to today!

Cranky: What?!

(The exterior of the house; the front door is now closed, but bursts open again.)

Matilda: (galloping out and o.s.) Where’s my wedding planner?

(Her husband-to-be steps out to the doorway and aims a worried look after her. The brows lower and the expression hardens as he picks up the scrapbook and scrutinizes its contents for a moment. Zoom in slightly as he raises his head, eyes now set in an indignant glare, then cut to a close-up of him leaning forward over a shop counter.)

Cranky: You told me you could do it for half what the others charge, and then you sent invitations to everypony in town with the wrong date!

(He snorts out a puff of steam to underscore his ill will, after which the camera cuts to frame the recipient of this verbal drubbing on the other side of the counter. It is Derpy Hooves, a concerned frown showing beneath her crossed eyes; after a second or two, she dips her head out of view and brings up a basket of muffins, held by the handle in her teeth. She sets this on the counter and gestures toward it with a weak, placating smile.)

Derpy: Muffin?

(Fade to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to Twilight galloping intently through Ponyville. The sky’s blue color indicates that the morning has progressed a bit. The camera follows Twilight for a few blocks, then stops at the restaurant run by Horte Cuisine as the winged unicorn races on past. The well-groomed waiter places a sandwich before the customers at one of the outdoor tables, and the camera then cuts to a close-up of Derpy at another. Two dark khaki hooves are just barely in view across from her, resting on the table’s edge.)

Derpy: I really messed up on those invitations. (covering eyes; Horte delivers two drinks on a tray.) I feel just awful, Doc.

Horte: (disdainfully) Hmph! Perhaps that explains why I never got mine! (He walks off.)

Derpy: I told Cranky I could get ’em printed for cheap, but that meant hiring somepony with no experience using a printing press.

(Cut to Featherweight in the school basement, operating the press that Cheerilee’s students used to put out the Foal Free Press in “Ponyville Confidential.” Ink is generously splattered over the floor and equipment, and as he pumps the treadle to keep it running, the whole rig falls apart and douses him in the black goop from one end to the other. Back to Derpy.)

Derpy: Oh, I wish there was a way I could go back in time and fix all this.

(Cut to the owner of those khaki hooves—Doctor Whooves, sporting a white shirt collar and green bow tie. After a pull at his drink through its silly straw, he puts a hoof to his chin and lets a calculating smile play across his face. From here, cut to one end of a room whose furnishings suggest a laboratory: under-the-counter storage cabinets, shelf of books, stack of notes on one counter, assorted odd scientific equipment. The door opens to admit Whooves.)

Whooves: (trotting in; Derpy hesitantly follows) Going back in time is old thinking, my friend.

(Longer shot of the space; it is indeed a lab, one that could rival the one Twilight had in the basement of the Golden Oak Library for sheer weirdness of its apparatus. Clocks figure prominently in the sprawling array.)

Whooves: (adjusting one machine; Derpy flies up toward others) I was working off a cutting-edge theory of making time come forward to you.

(The camera cuts to a close-up of him during this line. He looks back across the room after he finishes, then around and up with some puzzlement; cut to the pegasus, now seated in a small-scale wooden model flying craft that hangs from the ceiling. A helmet made from a colander and studded with leads rests on the blond head, and she sings tunelessly to herself while rocking the vessel back and forth. It slowly begins to descend toward floor level.)

Whooves: (from o.s.) My life’s work. (Cut to him; he has pulled a lever to lower her.) Decades—mm-mm, centuries, really—of research and experimentation, and I—I nearly had it cracked! (Close-up; he takes back the helmet.) Turns out there’s a magic spell for it. Who knew?

(A sizzle of electricity draws his attention elsewhere; cut to Derpy, who has discovered a “plasma globe” device and is fooling with it. This consists of a clear glass sphere with a high-voltage electrode at its center; whenever the outer sphere is touched, a filament of colored electrical discharge flows from the electrode to the point of contact. This particular model causes Derpy’s mane/tail to stand straight up when she touches it, and to go completely limp once she removes her hoof. Whooves gallops over to her, having disposed of the helmet.)

Whooves: (touching her shoulder; his mane/tail briefly stand up as well) But there are so many things that magic can’t explain— (They stop playing with the globe; manes/tails back to normal; close-up of him.) —where science and mathematics are the real magic!  

Derpy: (from o.s.) Like these?

(Cut to a cylindrical glass tank filled with what appear to be multicolored, tightly furled flower blooms floating sluggishly in a translucent greenish liquid. Derpy stands on the far side looking in, her image distorted by the glass and the fluid movement.)

Derpy: They’re pretty. (She brings her head out from behind.)

Whooves: (from o.s.) Ah. (Zoom out to frame him alongside.) Yes. My flameless fireworks. (scratching chin) Never could quite figure out how to get them to ignite.

Derpy: How did you learn to make all this stuff, anyway?

Whooves: I’ve been studying science my whole life. Ever since a particularly traumatic experience as a foal— (Zoom in slowly; his fervor grows.) —I’ve been looking for ways to make sense of the world around me. Science provides explanations of things we never thought possible!

(He snaps out of his energetic reverie and looks back over his shoulder toward Derpy.)

Whooves: Now, uh, why did we come here again? (She shakes her head clear.)

Derpy: Yeah. (downcast, hoof to face) Oh! Because I accidentally sent out invitations for Cranky and Matilda’s wedding with today’s date instead of tomorrow’s!

(The crossed amber eyes contract to frightened points as the mouth beneath them scrunches up. Whooves races over to her.)

Whooves: (shaking head vigorously) Great whickering stallions! I completely forgot! And I still need to get my suit tailored!

(He gallops out of the lab. Dissolve to a stretch of Ponyville and follow him on a headlong rush to the front door of the Carousel Boutique. Draped across his back is a green suit jacket, with a white dress shirt and yellow necktie tucked inside.)

Whooves: Rarity? (pounding on door) Rarity!

(He foregoes knocking in favor of simply trying to push the door in, but gets absolutely nowhere for his strains and grunts. A faint electronic dance beat asserts itself, distracting him from his efforts to obtain last-second clothing alterations by force, and the camera zooms out to frame DJ P0N-3 strolling past. The music is coming from the headphones firmly socked over her ears. Head-on view of her, utterly oblivious to everything else in the world, as he darts up behind.)

Whooves: Please! You’ve got to help me! (Profile; he races up and pivots to cut her off.) I lost track of time, unbelievably, and forgot that the wedding is this afternoon!

(On the second half of this last sentence, cut to a close-up of the wild-maned mare and zoom in slowly as she bobs her head to the beat and his reflection plays across her lenses. The view then cuts to her violet-tinted perspective of him, his words reduced to barely audible gibberish by the thumping rhythm as he gesticulates and traces out a circle in the air. Back to the pair after several seconds.)

Whooves: Have you seen Rarity? She’s got to alter the sleeves of my suit and she’s got to do it now!

(He adds a rear-hoof stomp on this last word for emphasis. Nodding and smiling, DJ P0N-3 turns and starts walking.)

Whooves: Oh! (laughing) Thank goodness. (following her) Lead on, my friend.

(Dissolve to a close-up of a set of bowling pins at the far end of a lane. A ball crashes into them for a clean strike, then comes rolling back along a return track to stop in front of a smiling Thunderlane. The scene has shifted to the bowling alley that figured in the start of “The Cutie Pox,” and the camera cuts to the players’ end of the lanes and pans slowly across to stop on a puzzled Whooves in the foreground. Another cut frames him and DJ P0N-3 head-on, having just entered the facility.)

Whooves: Uh, why have you brought me here? Rarity would never set hoof in—

(A glance off to one side, and his eyes widen in surprise; cut to his perspective of three slowly approaching earth pony stallions. Left: light tan coat with dark brown hoof tips; short, dark brown mane/tail/beard; patterned blue bandana tied across forehead; light blue eyes behind transparent amber sunglasses; dark gray sportcoat with rolled-up sleeves; white shirt; yellow tie. Center: lighter tan coat with white hoof tips; two-tone blond mane/tail carefully styled; short, shaggy beard/mustache; light blue eyes; dark blue suit jacket; white shirt, red tie with white bowling pins. Right: off-white coat; orange bowling shirt; brown mane/tail; dark brown eyes. All three have bowling bags slung across their backs. The view is ringed with white, as if it were a flashback or dream even though it is very much in the here and now. Extreme close-up of the red tie, then of Shades’ face, then of Shirt’s bag.)

(Back to Whooves and DJ P0N-3, seen normally.)

Whooves: (shaking head vigorously, nudging her) Great whickering stallions, they’ve got style!

(He crosses to them as she leaves the bowling alley.)

Whooves: Gentle-colts! I’m facing…certain calamity, and I couldn’t help noticing your remarkable fashion sense. Could I get the name of your incredible tailor?

(Blondie speaks up in a slow, easygoing cadence in close-up. Now his cutie mark can be seen: a fringed rug.)

Blondie: Well, yeah, man. His name is me. (Close-up of Whooves.)

Whooves: (to himself) Me. What an unfortunate name.

Blondie: (from o.s.) No, man, like… (Back to him.) …I manufacture all my own garments. We all do, man. (Whooves leans into his face.)

Whooves: Then you’ve got to help me! (holding up his suit) I need this suit tailored. It’s an emergency!

Blondie: (chuckling, pushing it back) Sorry, man. We’re just about to start the finals. (He and the others walk off.)

Whooves: What’s this word you keep using…“man”?

Blondie: (now o.s.) I don’t know, man, but guess what?

(On the end of this, cut to frame the trio. They have put away their bags, and Shades has set his ball on the floor and is running a mouth-held polishing cloth over it. Their other two stallions’ marks can now be clearly seen: briefcase for Shades, bowling ball and two pins for Shirt.)

Blondie: Our fourth didn’t show, so if you roll with us, we’ll alter your suit for you.

(Whooves runs a worried eye over his outfit, and the camera pans quickly to one lane and zooms in on the pin formation at the far end. The view fades partly to white, after which a surfeit of equations and diagrams is quickly drawn in—the scientist’s mind analyzing the physics of the game. Two large black symbols finally superimpose themselves on the assemblage—an equals sign on the left, a question mark on the right—and the camera cuts back to a perplexed Whooves. It takes a moment for him to get his power of speech back.)

Whooves: I’m sorry, gentle-colts, but I will not bowl. The splits, the spares— (hoof to face) —there are simply too many variables!

Blondie: Variables? What are you talkin’ about, man? Just throw the ball straight!

Whooves: Hold on. Straight?

(Cut to a freeze-frame side view of a ball rolling toward the pins. An arrow appears, pointing from the former to the latter and extending itself in three sections; after it makes contact with the pins, they are replaced by a freeze frame that shows them flying everywhere after impact. Back to him; now he smiles and slings his suit over his back.)

Whooves: (crossing to them) Very well. I’ll try your “straight” technique. (He passes the garment to Blondie.) It just might be crazy enough to work.

(A mare stands up into view in the fore and steps toward the foul line to bowl. As her ball thunders along the hardwood, cut to the sign above the alley’s front entrance outside and zoom out. A muffled clatter of pins is heard as the camera movement brings a sizable assembly of ponies into view. Twilight and her five friends have gathered for a huddle, while all others present watch from several feet back. Octavia moves up from the back ranks to stop alongside the Cutie Mark Crusaders in the front; her voice carries an upper-class British accent.)

Octavia: (to them) Do we know what they’re on about?

Apple Bloom: The way they’re huddled up like that? I’d say it’s either a friendship problem— (Close-up.) —or a monster attack. (Pan to Octavia.)

Octavia: A monster attack? Blast! I’m performing at the ceremony this afternoon, and I still haven’t sorted out what to play. (overwrought, hoof to forehead) How am I meant to practice with a monster invading Ponyville?

Sweetie Belle: Maybe it’s just a friendship problem, and it’ll all be cleared up in a half an hour or so.

Octavia: (sighing, rolling eyes) I hope so.

(She heads back toward the rear of the crowd.)

Matilda: (from o.s., frantically) Where’s Pinkie Pie? (She races into view and barges to the front.) I NEED MY WEDDING PLANNER!!

(A sound like a low growl overlaid on the buzzing of insect wings scares the spectators into looking skyward. Cut to an extreme close-up of a bee-like stinger, dark gray and striped with white and yellow, with a pair of clawed hind legs attached just ahead of it. A zoom out reveals these parts as being attached to one humdinger of a fantastic beast—and a large one at that. The head is white, with two antennae and dark eye markings similar to those of a panda, but with a longer snout. The torso is split into two sections, each with its own pair of limbs. The first section is dark gray, with a black patch on the pectoral area; the second is white, marked with yellow, dark gray, and black. The hind limbs near the stinger are much shorter and less muscular than either of the other two pairs, and they bear yellow stripes. A pair of giant, yellowish wings keeps this creature—a literal “bugbear”—aloft.)

(Back at ground level, Twilight and company fall in line and steel themselves for a throwdown. The airborne monstrosity voices a guttural roar and launches itself toward them, stinger first, and the six mares clear out so that its strike only plows a broad furrow into the earth. Twilight flies up and lets go with a beam from her horn, scoring a hit that aggravates the bugbear, and Rainbow Dash swoops down to deliver a whack against the back of its head. It lifts off and begins to chase the group down the street as Matilda watches.)

Matilda: Oh, no! On my wedding day? (pulling ears down) Somepony’s gotta help me!

(The rattle of small hooves against hardpan catches her ear, and she looks back to find Bloom and Twist galloping to safety at the urging of Amethyst Star. Once they have gone, another gesture from the mare sends Hayseed Turniptruck and Pipsqueak along the same route.)

Matilda: You! (Amethyst looks around herself before speaking up.)

Amethyst: Me?

Matilda: I need to move an entire wedding from tomorrow to today!

Amethyst: But nopony’s asked me to organize anything since Twilight came to town.

Matilda: (smiling hopefully) So you’ll do it?

Amethyst: (proudly) I used to be the best organizer in all of Ponyville. You bet I’ll—

(A growl from the o.s. bugbear brings her self-congratulation to a very quick end. Mare and donkey look fearfully down the street; pan quickly to the beast hovering just above the street. Twilight is a foot or two higher and glaring down at it; Applejack glowers at it from behind; Pinkie is in its grip; Rarity has been knocked flat on her belly. As Fluttershy gallops toward the bugbear, Rainbow rockets down from above to target the back of its head, but a midair pivot allows it to bat her away.)

Rainbow: Whoooaaa!

(She slams into a nearby house, landing spreadeagle and upside down on her back, and crumples to the grass. Here comes the bugbear, aiming its stinger at her, but she zooms away just in time to avoid the hit. The house is not so lucky, though, being instantly pulverized, and the behemoth peeks up from behind the ruins with a fresh growl. Cut to Amethyst and Matilda.)

Matilda: Come on. (galloping away; Amethyst follows) We better get to the salon before that monster flattens it!

(Pan to the confrontation. All six heroes—including a released Pinkie and a recovered Rarity—are doing what they can to frustrate, taunt, or stay out of the grip of, the bugbear. It roars at Rainbow’s close-approach passes before the view fades to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to an open bit of street, against which the hollering bugbear straightens up into view with a wagon gripped in one dark gray forelimb. A lasso snaps upward to cinch onto the other one, and a tilt down to ground level brings Applejack into view just in time for her to pull the free end with her teeth and dump the attacker onto its back. Pan to follow a very unnerved Derpy as she flies slowly down the block.)

Derpy: What am I gonna do? (She stops short with a gasp.) Matilda!

(As Amethyst and Matilda gallop into view toward her, she back-pedals in midair to stay face to face.)

Derpy: I feel so bad about the invitations! (She stops.) Is there anything I can do?

Matilda: (racing past with Amethyst) FLOWWWWERRRRS!!

(The gray face breaks into a huge smile. Dissolve to the exterior of the town’s herb/flower shop; she has touched down here for a talk with Daisy, Lily, and Rose.)

Lily: You want Matilda’s arrangements today? (All three proprietors go bug-eyed and keel over.)

Daisy: This is awful!

Rose: The horror! The horror!

Derpy: So…there’s no way you can do it? (Lily stands up.)

Lily: We don’t even have Matilda’s flowers in yet— (The other two do likewise.) —much less arranged. (sighing, hooves to temples) This is a disaster!

Derpy: (crushed, walking away) Okay. Thanks anyway.

(The bugbear flies past the shop, followed closely by Rainbow. Close-up of the trio; Lily voices a fresh gasp and points off in the general direction of its retreat.)

Lily: Look, girls!

(Pan quickly to a close-up of a flower, its stem snapped nearly in half so that the bloom is canted drunkenly to one side. She leans in close to inspect it.)

Lily: A broken stem on one of the zinnias! (Zoom out slightly; the other two now eye it as well.)

Daisy: Whaaat?!?

(All three crumple to the ground again at the sight of this unforgivable offense against floral beauty. Overhead shot of them, the camera rotating slowly in place.)

Rose: Oh, the horror! The horror!

(Dissolve to the interior of the town hall, where decorating efforts for the big event are progressing apace: banners hung from every balcony, an archway with wedding bells on the ground-floor dais, piano and chairs set up on the floor. Bon Bon and Lyra Heartstrings are standing on one of the lower balconies, the latter floating a set of bells up into place.)

Bon Bon: I have to admit—

(Close-up of the bells, tilting down to follow them and frame the pair on the start of the following.)

Bon Bon: —when Matilda said we needed this place ready by today, I was a little nervous.

Lyra: With you by my side— (They thump their rumps together.) —I knew we’d get it done in time. (Bon Bon crosses to a box.)

Bon Bon: There is nothing like a best friend, is there? (She rummages; Lyra levitates a bow and floats it over to her.)

Lyra: Anything’s possible when you know somepony as well as we know each other.

(The earth pony catches the item and affixes it to the balcony railing. Her concentration breaks due to a growl from the bugbear outside, but Lyra pays no mind and brings up a piece of ribbon.)

Bon Bon: What was that?

Lyra: There’s some monster attacking Ponyville or something. (Close-up of Bon Bon on the end of this; she picks up a new pair of bells.)

Bon Bon: What is it this time? (hanging them on railing) A creature from the Everfree Forest?

Lyra: Uh, I think it’s some sort of… (smiling dismissively) …bugbear.

(The cream-colored face goes slack with terror, then rearranges itself into a hard over-shoulder glare.)

Bon Bon: (turning to Lyra) Did you say “bugbear”?

(She darts into a corner near the closed window curtains, up on her hind legs so she can press herself back-first into the spot and stay out of sight.)

Bon Bon: It found me!

Lyra: What are you talking about, Bon Bon?

(Now back on all fours, Bon Bon parts the drapery ever so slightly for a furtive glance out.)

Bon Bon: My name isn’t Bon Bon. It’s Special Agent Sweetie Drops. (opening curtains wider; the battle rages outside) I work for a super-secret anti-monster agency in Canterlot— (Cut to Lyra and zoom in slowly; she continues o.s., bitterly.) —or at least I did until the bugbear went missing from Tartarus a few years back.

Lyra: (hesitantly, skeptically) What are you talking about?

(The agent jumps back to her box of decorations and fishes around in it.)

Bon Bon: When it escaped— (She produces a metal briefcase.) —we had to shutter the whole agency.

(Close-up of the container being thrown down onto the floor; its lid bears a round brass plate with a horseshoe imprint.)

Bon Bon: (from o.s.) Every last shred of evidence of the organization’s existence was destroyed.

(During this line, she fits a hoof to the plate and rotates it a quarter-turn, releasing the case’s locking straps. The lid flips open to reveal a wristwatch, pair of sunglasses, fake mustache, and grappling hook with attached rope all nestled in foam rubber padding. Cut briefly to an uneasy Lyra on the start of the following, then back to Bon Bon, closing the case and having donned the watch and looped the hook/rope around her body.)

Bon Bon: Celestia demanded complete deniability. (Cut to Lyra; long pause.)

Lyra: (scared) What? (Zoom out to frame Bon Bon.)

Bon Bon: It was me who captured the bugbear. (Zoom in on her.) I had to go deep-cover here in Ponyville and assume the name “Bon Bon.” I never thought it’d be able to track me, but now it has.

(On these last two words, the screen narrows to a diagonal stripe that frames an extreme close-up of the narrowed eyes. The view then quickly re-expands to frame both mares again.)

Lyra: (indignantly) Are you saying our whole friendship was based on a lie?

Bon Bon: I’m sorry, Lyra! I couldn’t tell you for your own protection!

Lyra: (shakily, tearing up) But-but-but the lunches! The-the long talks! The benches we’ve sat on! None of that was real?

Bon Bon: (gently) It was all real. (lifting Lyra’s chin) You’re my very best friend.

(The unicorn manages a little smile and rests a hoof on the one Bon Bon has used to raise her head and spirits. However, the warm fuzzy moment gets broadsided by a new round of noise from the bugbear outside. Bon Bon darts to the window—the curtains now fully parted—opens one sash, and jumps up to balance on the sill. The hook is deployed to anchor in the woodwork just below.)

Bon Bon: I’ve gotta go find a crowd to blend into before I put you in danger. (She dons the sunglasses from her kit.) I’ll see you at the wedding.

(She drops out of sight. Cut to just outside the window as a good-and-angry Lyra walks up to it.)

Lyra: Fine. (leaning out, calling after Bon Bon) But we’re gonna talk about this later!

(Ground level. The covert operative reaches the ground, releasing herself from the rope and backing slowly up toward the knot of onlookers watching Twilight and crew having it out with the beast. Pinkie, for some reason, has adopted a strategy of balancing two spinning plates on sticks while riding a unicycle. On the start of the next line, pan slightly to frame Cranky glaring at the jeweler stallion who appeared briefly in “Hearts and Hooves Day.”)

Cranky: I need my ring today, no matter the cost! (relenting) As long as it doesn’t cost any extra.

(The jeweler throws a disgusted glance behind himself. Dissolve to a close-up of two bowling pins in the classic seven-ten split pattern at the end of one lane in the alley—far left and far right in the back row.)

Blondie: (from o.s.) Seven-ten split, man. (Cut to him, holding a glass of milk.) Harshest of the harsh.

(Longer shot; Whooves is up at the line, hefting a ball on one front hoof with great trepidation, and the three regular bowlers are seated behind their scoring desk. His suit is no longer lying across his back.)

Blondie: But if you pick this up, we win the whole shebang.

(Allowing himself one deep breath, the unlikely fourth tiptoes ahead on his three unoccupied limbs. His unorthodox approach is interrupted by a very happy Derpy bursting in through the front doors.)

Derpy: Doc! (He drops his ball; it rolls ahead and o.s.) I finally figured out how I can help! Your flameless fireworks look just like flowers! I’ll use them for the wedding!

(She flies out, completely missing the popeyed look of surprise that roots itself on his face.)

Whooves: (shaking head vigorously) Great whickering stallions! Wait!

(He gallops out after her, forgetting the game or the wayward ball he has released. As the other three stare impassively down the lane, it slowly makes its way to the end and brushes against one pin before dropping out of sight. The pin wobbles and bobbles across the lane toward its counterpart…the three stare intently, leaning ever so slightly forward in their seats…and when it is within a hair’s breadth of making contact, it topples onto its side. Shades slams his front hooves against his hind legs and stands up onto them with a frustrated grunt at having his team’s championship hopes so cruelly dashed.)

(Cut to just outside the front doors. Whooves throws one open to call after the departing Derpy.)

Whooves: Wait! (trotting onto porch) The flameless fireworks are extremely volatile! Without knowing what the trigger is, they could go off at any moment! (Sound of the approaching bugbear/pony battle.) My word, is that the bugbear?

(Zoom out to put him in the background and a backwards-flying, magic-zapping Twilight in the fore. The bugbear is chasing her, stinger first, and Rainbow pulls in to deliver a few punches to its exposed side. Applejack and Fluttershy join the fray, charging past the Ponyville Spa.)

Matilda: (from inside) Oh… (Focus on the building and zoom in slowly.) …there are so many things I’m forgetting!  

(Inside, she has put on a robe and is lying on her back atop a lounge chair in the hot-tub room. Lotus is here to look after the frazzled donkey.)

Matilda: I hope Cranky remembers to tell the musicians. (close-up; hooves to temples) Oh…oh…I’ll never get my mane done in time!

(Zoom out slightly to frame Lotus, who eases her gently back down.)

Lotus: You must relax, my dear. We can handle anything. (working Matilda’s mane into a high upswept style) We once did a pony’s hair during the ceremony.

(An effeminate male voice that has not been heard since “Elements of Harmony” cuts in.)

Steven Magnet: (from o.s.) Oh, it’s true, it’s true!

(Long shot of the entire room. The purple serpent—or at least as much of him as will fit—is taking five in the hot tub. One notable change from his first appearance: the right half of his mustache, which Rarity donated most of her tail to replace after Nightmare Moon ripped it out, has grown back in its natural blond color. Both Aloe and Lotus are applying curlers to Matilda’s mane.)

Steven: They really are the best. Matilda, I’ve just got to say— (Close-up of her; he continues o.s. as the two attendants move off.) —I already feel like we’re family.

(She is more than a bit rattled at finding one massive hand extended toward her to shake, but she gets one hoof hooked around a fingertip and returns the gesture.)

Matilda: You do? (Long shot of both.)

Steven: Of course! I’m Steven Magnet, Cranky’s best beast.

Matilda: You’re Steven Magnet?

Steven: Well, what’d you expect, a bugbear? I’ve known Cranky for-ev-errr! Surely he must have told you about the time he saved me from Flash Freeze Lake?

Matilda: (now really puzzled) You’re Steven Magnet. (He sits up, head cut off by the top edge of the screen.)

Steven: Oh, I know, I know! Typical Cranky, to leave out minor details like the fact that I’m, you know… (leaning down to her level, winking) …a sea monster, right? (He straightens up with a laugh.) I just love that old burro.

Matilda: (smiling) I’m sorry, Steven. I guess I assumed you were a pony. (He leans down again.) And I had no idea you had such adventures together.

Steven: (laughing, straightening up) Oh, honey! You don’t know the half of it!

(The laugh is nearly enough to blow her off the chair.)

Steven: But let me tell you something. In all that we’ve been through together, the only thing he ever cared about—

(Close-up of her, now sitting up; his forefinger comes down to poke her nose gently as Lotus crosses behind.)

Steven: (from o.s.) —was finding you. (She gasps softly.)

Matilda: Really? (Lotus produces a hoof-load of face cream; back to Steven.)

Steven: (chuckling) Well, that and a baldness cure. (Another laugh; Matilda settles onto her belly.)

Matilda: He is the sweetest thing, isn’t he? (Lotus pulls the curlers from her mane…) All the stress I’ve put myself through. (…then combs to fluff it up. Zoom in slowly.) All the stress I’ve put him through. The only thing that matters is that we’re together. The wedding isn’t the important thing. The marriage is.

(Her moment of serene illumination is completely ruined by a bray of laughter by the o.s. Steven; cut to a long shot of him and her.)

Steven: My goodness gracious! If you believe that, I have got a bridge to sell you!

(Close-up of the donkey, sitting up with a look of fresh fright; zoom in slowly.)

Steven: (from o.s.) All these ponies traveling to Ponyville, putting on uncomfortable clothes— (Her ears droop and she starts to shiver.) —sitting through a long ceremony. You think any of them care about some marriage? (Back to him; he continues dismissively.) No, no, no, no. (laughing, leaning toward camera) Honey, the wedding is everything.

(Cut to a close-up of the panic-gripped bride-to-be and zoom in on the blue pinpoints of her eyes, then snap to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of a thatched-roof stone house standing on a meadow hilltop. All of the ground-floor windows have flower boxes attached to their sills, decorated to resemble piano keys, and a large hedge trimmed in the shape of an eighth note stands next to the walk leading to the front door. The color scheme is split right down the middle, including the door and front step: brown with green thatch on the viewer’s left, shades of blue with brown thatch on the right. Each windowpane displays a bass clef symbol: forward on the blue side, reversed on the brown. In addition, a second-floor window visible on the blue end is set with a design that resembles an F-shaped sound hole on a violin, and a set of organ pipes projects upward from the roof on the brown end.)

(The strains of Felix Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March”—the celebratory piece often played to mark the end of a marriage ceremony—can be heard from within, played on a cello. DJ P0N-3 walks toward the front door, headphones dangling around her neck; cut to just inside the house as she magically opens it and enters. The two-tone color scheme continues in here: a single large room, with Octavia rehearsing on the brown side and the blue set up with keyboards, DJ turntables, and an electric guitar. Spotlights and a speaker hang from the rafters on this side. Pan slowly toward Octavia’s side, revealing a piano at the far wall. After a few more notes and the slam of the door, she lets her bow drop with a fed-up sigh.)

Octavia: All these wedding songs are so… (making air quotes with front hooves) …standard. (DJ P0N-3 floats up a bottle of milk and chugs it down.) I want Matilda and Cranky’s wedding to be special.

(She goes back to playing, a different tune this time, as the unicorn wipes her mouth and sends the empty away, an idea causing one eyebrow to cock over the violet lenses. Next comes the brainstorm, which sends DJ P0N-3 racing back to her own side to stand on a box so she can reach the upper tier of her equipment rack. The headphones at her neck are floated away and repositioned so that she can hold one of them against her ear with a hoof, and she taps a control as Octavia stops again. A gesture from the DJ is her cue to resume, but one electronic bass drum beat soon thumps out from the sound system. A loud record scratch rattles Octavia’s composure a good bit, and she chews her lower lip and tries to get it back as a swelling, distorted synthesizer line begins to assert itself.)

(Flicks of eyes and ears do nothing to dissuade DJ P0N-3 from messing around at the decks and stepping on one of several floor pedals to add the bass drum. Octavia’s frustration culminates in an almighty grimace, a stop to her own playing, and a bow gesture that cuts DJ P0N-3 off as well. Cut to the latter, lowering the headphones, then to both on the start of the next line.)

Octavia: Thanks, but I’m not sure that’s appropriate for a wedding, is it?

(She starts back in; meanwhile, her opposite number lets her head bob a bit, then starts thinking again with headphones pressed to one ear. A big grin, and she steps on the drum pedal once—and then, as Octavia continues, a soothing drum/synth line comes in under the cello. She gapes at DJ P0N-3, who gets the phones in place over both ears, and gasps in happy surprise as the full effect comes through to her. Now framed records can be seen on the wall behind the unicorn, as well as a mirrored disco ball hanging from the ceiling.)

Octavia: That’s more like it!

(They continue in this vein for several more bars until DJ P0N-3 puts a hoof on one turntable to bring it to a gradual stop. Octavia lifts her bow off the strings, a knowing look passes between the two musicians, and they twirl their key implements—bow and record—overhead at blinding speed before going at it anew with fervor. The overhead spotlights blaze up as the camera zooms out slightly and begins to rotate, framing the unlikely duet at an angle. Each continues in her own vein, Octavia’s poise at the cello contrasting with DJ P0N-3’s quick motions over the turntable controls, and they throw a smile to one another as the intensity slowly builds.)

(Now they circle a central point in a shared orbit, and the entire screen begins to vibrate as if it were a stereo speaker being pushed to its limit. Bow and slider switches put out the sound, and the view shifts to a diagonally split screen of close-ups of the pair. Octavia cocks an eyebrow at DJ P0N-3 across the border as the music dies away, after which the panels slide apart to give a close-up of the unicorn at her decks. The disco ball sparkles in the spotlights.)

(She darts away and magically shifts two gargantuan speakers—each perhaps three times her height—into position. At the same time, a synth note rises in pitch to reach fire-siren range and a drum line speeds up to machine-gun tempo, driving the nearest equalizer panel into fits. The music now resumes as a high-speed, high-energy dance beat, and a gesture from DJ P0N-3 is all the prompting Octavia needs to start bowing her cello again. Decks and speakers and strings get a real workout, and Octavia lets her instrument spin on its support peg while DJ P0N-3 does a lightning-fast record change. Octavia’s white shirt collar comes loose…DJ P0N-3 balances a record on each front hoof and spins them…the cellist rages on, snapping the strings of her bow but with her collar back in place…the wax mistress dances on her turntables…Octavia turns upside down, now playing pizzicato…DJ P0N-3 does a headstand on her rack…and they leap toward each other with crazed grins, ready to smash their instruments together. Before they can obliterate what must surely be several thousand bits’ worth of musical equipment, though, the scratch of needle against vinyl kills the music and brings them to a midair halt.)

Octavia: STOP!! (They drop back to the floor; DJ P0N-3’s shades slide down her nose.) I’m going to be late for the wedding!

(Cut to the exterior of the house. As the beat cranks back up, the front door bursts open and out flies an entire turntable/speaker system on a wheeled dolly in slow motion. Octavia stands atop one speaker, playing for all she is worth with a new bow, and DJ P0N-3 is at the controls with her sunglasses back in place. The action accelerates to normal speed, and the mobile eardrum buster sails down the hill; cut to a Ponyville street, where the same slow/normal-motion transition plays out at the rig hurtles along. Every speaker is now thumping with enough intensity to set up sympathetic vibrations in the buildings they pass.)

(Cut to the upper story of the Carousel Boutique, where the bugbear is hanging on to the topmost spire and clutching a rather put-out Rarity. Twilight fires a beam at it, while Applejack stands on the highest roof ledge she can reach with rope set to go and Rainbow buzzes past. A tilt down to ground level frames a sizable number of fearful onlookers, including Featherweight. The little colt is still covered with printing press ink, but gets all of it swept off him when the sonic doomsday device on wheels barrels past in slow motion. Normal speed resumes once it has gone, the ink falling to create a puddle on the grass. Neither Octavia nor DJ P0N-3 pays any mind to the wincing faces of the ponies they have at least temporarily deafened.)

(Adjusting a switch, the unicorn DJ looks ahead and finds that they are about to collide with a house at the end of the street they are on. She waves to get Octavia’s attention; the cellist responds by holding her bow straight out to one side, hooking onto a lamppost, and letting the momentum carry them through a 90-degree turn. Both hold on for dear life as the behemoth successfully navigates the corner. Down the road, a colt plays an arcade game as two stallions watch, one liberally spattered with jelly. They find themselves in the looming shadow of its approach; all three jaws drop wide open before the flash of an impact fills the screen and clears to show them being flung upward. Slow motion sets in as they reach the peak of their graceless flight, then switches back to normal speed as they drop o.s.)

 (The sound system rolls on, with the two stallions now riding on the opposite speaker from Octavia and the colt rotating on one turntable alongside DJ P0N-3. The classical performer’s stoic expression turns into a terrified grimace; dead ahead, a three-pony crew is loading a couch onto a wagon. The screen quickly tiles itself with three panels that show their panicked looks; another flash, and one of the movers is now face to face with one of the two arcade stallions in close-up. A zoom out shows that the couch is now balanced across the tops of the speakers, with Octavia and all five full-grown passengers sitting or hanging on to it and the colt still riding down below.)

(Now it is DJ P0N-3’s turn to grimace at an upcoming impact; a flash, and Minuette, Truffle Shuffle, and a hapless stallion have been flung upward in slow motion. Another flash sends up Berry Punch, Filthy Rich, Pipsqueak, and a barrel the same way. Normal speed, panning along the rooftops; now Hayseed, Thunderlane, and an unfortunate third stallion go flying one by one. By the time the rig shoots into the next intersection, all nine of these additional victims have found a perch on it, however precarious it might be. Berry has managed to hold on to the barrel.)

(The system skids around the corner, tipping briefly onto its outer two wheels and coming within an ace of dumping itself onto the road, then sets off along its new course. Farther down the block, Matilda—now in a wedding dress/veil/jewelry, wearing blush and lavender eyeshadow, and with her mane fully done up—walks backward to guide Mr. and Mrs. Cake across the road. Mr. Cake has a three-tier wedding cake balanced on his back, while his wife walks alongside to keep an anxious eye on the progress. Slung on her back is a pair of foal carriers to accommodate Pound and Pumpkin. Aloe and Lotus gallop across past the procession as the crazy train bears down on them all; a flash of impact, and the screen clears to give a close-up of Matilda’s cringing face. Once she realizes that she is still among the living, the camera zooms out to show that all seven of them have been added to the passenger list. Remarkably, the cake has suffered no damage at all. An irritated-looking Cranky plods across the road, having changed into a tuxedo jacket with a rose in the lapel, ruffled white shirt, and bow tie and slung baskets of vegetables onto his back. DJ P0N-3 waves mightily to get him out of the way, and he hurls himself to one side, plastering himself back-first against the nearest house. The juggernaut rumbles past, shifting briefly to and from slow motion; he avoids being hit, but his blond toupee and the produce are swept away by the group’s passage.)

(Home stretch, rocketing toward the town hall. Several mares on the road see it coming and dive to one side or the other, one of them throwing aside the scepter she has been playing with—the gold one, topped with a sculpture of Twilight’s head, that Discord created for her in Part Two of “Princess Twilight Sparkle.” It turns lazily end over end, the camera cycling through a rapid series of close-ups of the panicked riders, and clinks quietly to the dirt. One wheel catches on the head, causing the whole system to pitch forward in slow motion and send all the quadrupeds flying. The electronic/string mash-up ends at this point, and the camera zooms out quickly to very long shot of the airborne herd. Pinkie’s pet alligator Gummy watches the disaster impassively from a window.)

Gummy: (thinking, jaded tone) What is life?

(Head-on view. He is at the sill of an open window in Pinkie’s upper-story bedroom in Sugarcube Corner.)

Gummy: (thinking) Is it nothing more than the endless search for a cutie mark? And what is a cutie mark but a constant reminder that we’re all only one bugbear attack away from oblivion?

(Close-up; the tumbling ponies are now reflected in his blue-violet irises.)

Gummy: (thinking) And what of the poor gator, flank forever blank, destined to an existential swim down the river of life to an unknowable destiny?

(There follows a long pause, after which he lashes out his tongue and licks one eyeball. Back at the scene, the ponies and donkey sail through the town hall’s open doors at normal speed; inside, one guest after another lands neatly in the chairs laid out for them. DJ P0N-3 and Octavia hit the ground near the piano, the former with shades slightly askew and headphones down around neck; the cello and the central console with its built-in speaker are the pair’s only surviving gear. Down come Mr. and Mrs. Cake in front of a cleared table, the three tiers of the cake dropping neatly into place and one foal landing on each parent’s back. Zoom in on the top tier as its decorations fall in properly—an affectionate donkey couple backed by a heart.)

Octavia: (to DJ P0N-3) Something like that might work.

(The recipient of these words smiles and nudges her shades into place. Cut to Celestia and Princess Luna at a table stacked high with gifts and zoom in slowly. The elder sister tosses a nervous smile and glance over her shoulder toward a couple of passing guests; after they have gone, she rounds viciously on the younger.)

Celestia: What do you mean, you left it on the counter?

Luna: I thought you were bringing it!

Celestia: (sighing) Well, this is just wonderful!

(Both smile again upon realizing that Spike has come over to deposit a gift on the table. Luna waits to continue until he has run off.)

Luna: I handled the gift for Cadence and Shining Armor. You were supposed to do this one, remember?

Celestia: Well, we can’t just come to this wedding empty-hoofed!

(Pan away from the squabbling siblings to the sound of soft sobbing. It is coming from Shining Armor in the seats, and Princess Cadence tries in vain to comfort him as he shifts into a full crying jag and Hayseed looks on.)

Cadence: It’s all right. He always cries at weddings. (The jag shifts into overdrive.) Usually it’s not until the wedding starts.

(Cut to a close-up of Whooves’s flameless fireworks, stacked up in a pyramid on a pedestal, as Derpy crosses to them.)

Derpy: These flameless fireworks look even better than flowers! (She giggles to herself; sound of a door opening.)

Bon Bon: (from o.s.) Attention, everypony! (Cut to her at the doorway, removing her sunglasses.) Our friends have done it! (She throws them aside.) They’ve defeated the bugbear!

(She has removed the watch she put on from her kit. Zoom out to frame the cheering attendees, then cut to a disdainful Lyra in one of the seats, forelegs crossed and eyes closed. Bon Bon walks over to her.)

Bon Bon: Hey.

Lyra: (not looking at her) Hello.

Bon Bon: So, uh, you didn’t happen to mention our earlier conversation about my… (whispering) …secret identity… (normal volume) …to anypony, did you?

(Now Lyra opens her eyes and aims a dirty look toward the earth pony.)

Lyra: No, I did not. (Bon Bon smiles, but it vanishes on the next words.) And you’re not the only one with a secret, you know. You know those expensive imported oats you were saving for a special occasion? I cooked them up and ate them! (She leans into Bon Bon’s face.) All of them!

(The unexpected smile she gets from Bon Bon prompts her to match it and voice a relieved laugh, flopping back to her haunches on a chair.)

Lyra: It’s sort of thrilling to reveal your deepest, darkest secrets!

Bon Bon: (laughing) That’s what best friends are for.

(The two mares share a reconciling hug, the camera panning away from them to frame a stone-faced Celestia and Luna sitting on the other side of the aisle. The next two lines are whispered.)

Celestia: Next time, you can just bring your own gift and I’ll bring mine.

Luna: Fine.

(Cut to a close-up of Derpy peeking out around the door, seen from just outside, and zoom out.)

Whooves: (from o.s.) There you are!

(Long shot of the town hall; he gallops toward her, sporting a long, multicolored scarf instead of his green suit. As he reaches the door, a close-up picks out just how much extra length this thing has; even with several loops around his neck, there are still yards of trailing material. He has removed his collar and bow tie.)

Whooves: My suit has vanished and this was the only thing left in my closet! (He throws one trailing end over his shoulder.) How do I look? (She rests a foreleg there too.)

Derpy: Like a million bits.

Whooves: (shaking head vigorously) Great whickering stallions! (glancing down at one foreleg, as if a watch were there) Look at the time! (more calmly) We’d better get inside. (trotting in) Allons-y!

(French for “Let’s go!” Cut to just inside the doors as he enters, then pan to Cranky hunkered down by a window through which Steven has stuck his head in.)

Cranky: I can’t believe I lost my hair! (Close-up.) I look ridiculous. The love of my life deserves better than this! (Cut to Steven during the next line.)

Steven: Have no fear, Cranky, my dear! (twirling right half of mustache around a finger) It’s Steven Magnet’s mustache to the rescue!

(Having drawn the hair taut, he slashes through it with a loose scale and carefully sets it on the bald brown scalp. The purple river dweller applies a comb and a shot of hairspray, making it shine and lifting the groom’s spirits noticeably.)

Cranky: Aw, thanks, buddy.

Steven: (sweeping him into a hug) Oh, no problem. (setting him down, pushing him forward) Now you get in there and marry that donkey!

(His eyes go big and shiny with anticipation. Cut to the dais at the front of the room; Mayor Mare is officiating, and Matilda is already here as Cranky steps up to face her. A pedestal stacked high with faux-flower flameless fireworks stands to either side.)

Mayor Mare: Well, is everypony here?

(Through the open one of the front double doors, Twilight and her friends can be seen frantically galloping/flying to make it in on time. Long before they can even set hoof on the porch, though, Derpy kicks the door shut, causing a latch to fall into place and secure it.)

Derpy: All set, Mayor! (Long shot of the dais and crowd; slow pan.)

Mayor Mare: Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two in mare-trimony. As I look around this room— (Close-up; Cranky fiddles with his collar.) —I can only imagine how uncomfortable Cranky must be.

(He lets off a strangled little bray; laughter from the o.s. crowd, and even Matilda has to stifle a giggle. All he can manage is a mumble of vague assent.)

Mayor Mare: But I also see so many ponies— (Cut to a slow pan across them all; she continues o.s.) —from all trots of life, brought together by love.

(Shining has managed to dial himself back to a few tears in his eyes, and he and Cadence lean gently against each other. Back to Mayor Mare.)

Mayor Mare: Cranky searched all across this great land of ours to find Matilda. (Cut to Celestia and Luna; she continues o.s.) And no matter what obstacles kept them apart— (The sisters glance sidewise at each other, their faces softening…) —love would finally bring them together— (…and smile…) —just as it has brought all of us— (…and finally clasp front hooves together, one each.) —together now.

(Back to the elected official; on the next line, zoom out slowly to frame the two donkeys.)

Mayor Mare: It’s remarkable to me, how a story like Cranky’s search for Matilda could fill this room with such a unique collection of ponies.

(Her perspective, panning from one side of the aisle to the other.)

Mayor Mare: It makes you realize that everypony is the star of their own story.

(Dissolve to a slow pan across a packed balcony.)

Mayor Mare: (from o.s.) And it’s not just the main characters in our stories that make life so rich.

(Dissolve to the back row and pan along it. Several foals have huddled fearfully together, giving a wide berth to a smallish changeling at the other end.)

Mayor Mare: (from o.s.) It’s everypony—those who play big parts, and those who play small. (Dissolve to her, Cranky, and Matilda; slow pan.) If it weren’t for everypony in this room, and many more who couldn’t be here today— (Close-up of the couple; she continues o.s.) —Cranky and Matilda’s lives wouldn’t be as full and vibrant as they are.

(During the end of this, the view dissolves to a differently angled shot of the pair, then cuts to Steven wiping tears from his eyes and struggling not to bust out crying. He loses the fight after a few seconds and reaches to grab the first readily available equine for a hug; it just so happens to be a rather surprised Bulk Biceps. Cut to a long shot of the dais, seen from the far end of the aisle, and pan slowly across.)

Mayor Mare: And so, in front of all these loved ones… (Close-up.) …Cranky, do you take this donkey to be your lawfully wedded wife?

Cranky: You bet I do! (Mayor Mare pivots to her other side.)

Mayor Mare: And do you, Matilda, take this donkey to be your lawfully wedded husband?

Matilda: (fighting back tears) I do.

Mayor Mare: Then I’m proud to say, I now pronounce you jack and jenny!

(Being the proper terms for a male and female donkey, respectively. The two step toward each other and exchange a long kiss on the lips, prompting enthusiastic applause and cheering from every spectator in the place. As the kiss continues, the camera pans away from them to stop on one of the two piles of fireworks, which begin to sparkle, glow, and vibrate wildly in place before floating free of their pedestal. Whooves watches with a critical eye as they sail in random upward directions, bursting one after another into showers of multicolored sparks. Finally he stands up with a bellow of laughter and yanks Rose up from an adjoining seat, his hooves clamped onto her cheeks.)

Whooves: Of course! They need love to ignite! (dropping her) How could I have missed it?

(As the newlyweds watch the pyrotechnics, the camera cuts to outside the town hall, at the level of the third-floor balcony. Flashes of light issue from the windows and briefly tint the sky, which has darkened into late afternoon. Tilt down to ground level, where Twilight and her friends have gathered at a window to see in after being locked out by Derpy. Steven is no longer out here. The Princess turns away after a moment and paces across the porch.)

Twilight: You know something, girls? (Slow pan across the town square, framing her gazing out at it as she continues.) We are so lucky to live in this town.

(The other five gather around her at the railing.)

Twilight: I love you all.

(She gathers them in for a hug, not noticing Rainbow’s wince of pain.)

Rainbow: Ow! (Long shot, zooming out slowly.) That’s where the bugbear bit me!

Twilight: Sorry.

(Dissolve to a long shot of Ponyville proper, then zoom out slowly and fade to black.)


PRINCESS SPIKE

Story by Jayson Thiessen, Jim Miller

Written by Neal Dusedau

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by M.A. Larson

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Directed by Jim Miller

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to a long overhead shot of the main entrance to Canterlot during the day. The drawbridge over the mountain’s waterfall has been lowered, and ponies cross it to enter the city as the camera zooms in slowly. A banner has been strung over the gate, depicting the sun/moon yin-yang design and the stylized figures of Princesses Celestia and Luna that were first introduced in “Mare in the Moon.” From here, dissolve to the entrance hall of Canterlot Castle, crowded with tables, booths, and new arrivals, and pan slowly toward the stairs as a muffled buzz of conversation asserts itself. A cut/pan at ground level frames several of these individuals, which include a crystal pony and a griffon; all wear badges on lanyards around their necks, the sort that might be given to attendees at a convention. The crowd’s attention gradually focuses on a large, bulky, tarp-covered object standing in the ballroom, but a trumpet fanfare quickly shifts their focus. Cut to a close-up of Luna stepping forward. All lines are magically amplified until further notice.)

 

Luna: Welcome to the Grand Equestria Pony Summit!

(Enthusiastic cheering; she steps out of view and is replaced by Celestia. Zoom out slowly to show the two sisters standing on the ballroom stage, joined by Twilight Sparkle, Princess Cadence, and Spike bringing up the rear. Twilight is wearing her tiara for the first time this season.)

Celestia: You delegates have traveled far and wide to represent your cities, as we seek to celebrate and learn from all the unique places that make up our wonderful land of Equestria.

(Cut to a slow pan through the crowd on the second half of this, then back to the stage.)

Celestia: At tonight’s welcome reception, Princess Cadence will dedicate this beautiful friendship statue made up of gemstones from each of your home cities.

(The camera zooms out to frame the covered bulk as she mentions the statue. Once she finishes, a burst of her magic lifts the tarp away to expose the work: a stylized pony rearing up on its hind legs and standing on a small sphere, rendered as a three-dimensional mosaic of multicolored jewels. Awed murmurs from the throng as the camera moves here and there to pick out the glimmering details. From here, cut to a close-up of Spike, eyes shining as he licks his chops eagerly at the sight of what, to him, would be a four-star feast. On the next line, Twilight nudges him roughly in the gut to snap him back to reality and the camera zooms out to frame her as he gives an embarrassed grin. This shot is close enough to show faint lines of fatigue under her eyes.)

Celestia: (from o.s.) Now we’d like to turn things over to the one who organized the Summit—Princess Twilight Sparkle!

(She moves toward center stage, greeted by applause. Cut to the edge, the camera pointing out over the crowd, and zoom out to frame her on the start of the next line. The tiredness visible on her face is matched by the somewhat blurred and dulled tone of her words.)

Twilight: Thank you, everypony. With delegates from over fifty cities attending three days of conferences, receptions, and meetings— (Long shot of the stage; slow pan.) —this is the largest Grand Equestria Pony Summit yet. And let me tell you— (Close-up.) —putting it all together has led to more than one sleepless night. We’re so excited to have you here— (Long shot.) —and to learn more about life all across this great land of ours.

(Cheering and stomping from the attendees; in close-up, Spike reaches into view and tugs at her tail.)

Twilight: And now my faithful assistant Spike would like to say a few words. (She backs away as he steps up.)

Spike: Um…hello, everypony! I-I’m here to help any way I can. So if there’s anything I can do for any of you— (The amplification stops at this point.)

Stallion voice 1: We love you, Princess Twilight!

Stallion voice 2: We love all the Princesses!

(A fresh round of cheering; Twilight giggles to herself, but Spike sighs heavily.)

Spike: I guess everypony loves a princess.

(Another sigh, and the view fades to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to the upper reaches of several of the castle’s towers. Zoom in on one of them and dissolve to the suite within: four-poster bed, full bookcase, vanity, desk and chair placed before a bulletin board covered with tacked-up sheets and notes. Spike is here, gathering up a couple of books off the bed and carrying them to the nightstand, but a knock at the closed double doors stops him. He runs across the floor, arms now unoccupied, and reaches for the handles; just as he gets one door ajar, though, it bursts open and a worried-looking Cadence walks in. The combination of her magic on the handle and his pulling at it pins him against the bookcase.)

Cadence: Spike!

(The door swings shut under her control and he slides to the floor, buried by all the tomes as they come down right on top of him.)

Cadence: Spike? (He gets one hand free.)

Spike: (weakly, muffled) Little…help?

(She levitates him out of the avalanche and sets him down next to her in close-up.)

Cadence: Spike, we need you!

Spike: Of course! What can I do?

(Sound of the other door creaking open; pan quickly back to an exhausted Twilight tottering on her hooves at the entrance, no longer wearing her tiara. Somehow, she manages to stumble in without measuring her length on the floor tiles.)

Spike: (from o.s.) Whoa. What happened to you?

Twilight: (groaning a bit) I’m sorry, Spike. I just… (She reaches Cadence and Spike and yawns cavernously.) …need a quick nap. (staggering backwards) Napkin! (climbing onto book pile) Tell the delegates I’ll…

(She never gets to finish the sentence before completely conking out, lying on her belly.)

Cadence: (now o.s.) She’s been awake three straight days preparing for the Summit. (Twilight gathers up a few books and cuddles them like a pillow.) We need to make sure she gets some rest today. (Cut to just in front of the sleeper, framing all three.) She’ll never be able to attend the welcome reception in this condition.

(Zoom in slowly on her and Spike as she rounds to face him and rests a front hoof on his shoulder, all business.)

Cadence: Can I count on you to see to it that she isn’t disturbed?

(He turns a serious look to her, then to his o.s. boss, and salutes with a smile.)

Spike: I promise. I won’t let you down!

(Dissolve to a close-up of Twilight, now tucked into the bed and snoring quietly; the suite lights have been dimmed. Spike marches back and forth across the floor, a spyglass propped against one shoulder like a rifle. After a couple of passes, he jumps onto a chair placed in front of one open window, twirls the instrument, and lifts it to his eye for a look at the city. Cut to his perspective, shifting from one spot to the next and re-focusing on each. A unicorn mare walking along one street and using magic to push a baby carriage…a stallion seated at a table outside a café to enjoy his coffee…a mime mare performing for a group of onlookers. Back to him; he smiles contentedly and returns the spyglass to his shoulder.)

Spike: Perfect.

(As he is about to hop down from the chair, a bit of loud twittering stops him cold. His perspective again, lifting the glass to peer at the pinnacle of one tower and the bird responsible for this disturbance. The next shot frames his eye, greatly magnified by the lens, and pans to frame his hard glare as he lowers the spyglass again.)

Spike: Not on my watch.

(Close-up of the bird.)

Spike: (from o.s.) Uh… (Zoom out to show him climbing up to it, no longer carrying the glass.) …excuse me? Can you keep it down a little?

(The avian flits away and directly through Twilight’s open window; zoom out to frame Spike watching it on the next line.)

Spike: Oh, no!

(He slides down and o.s. Cut to just inside the closed doors of Twilight’s suite; there is the sound of his hurrying footsteps, and they burst open to admit him as the birdsong starts anew. One panicked stop and grimace later, the camera cuts to a close-up of the creature and zooms out to reveal that it has lit on the tip of the snoozing Princess’s horn. Its continued chatter has no effect on her sleep. Spike hurries over to her bedside and addresses the bird.)

Spike: (hushed) I’ll give you birdseed! Worms! Anything! Just please stop singing before you wake the Princess!

(Glancing down at said Princess, the fine feathered friend falls silent and backs away, flying out the window.)

Spike: Huh. I can’t believe that worked!

(The muffled sound of a lively crowd from somewhere outside catches his ear. Cut to an overhead shot of a polo match being played in one of the grassy courtyards. Two-on-two, with the players carrying mallets in their mouths to hit the ball, and spectators cheer them on as the action roves back and forth across the field. Spike watches anxiously, cutting his eyes back toward Twilight as she begins to turn fitfully and grumble in her sleep. The little dragon makes up his mind; an instant later he makes an impressive jumping catch to intercept the ball before it can cross the goalposts. Mallets are dropped, the crowd goes dead silent, and in short order Spike finds four very annoyed players glaring at him from close range. He waits to speak until he has caught his breath.)

Spike: Uh…hi, fellas. Uh, sorry to break up your game, but there’s sort of an important diplomatic summit kinda thingy going on, and it involves a princess needing to sleep, and, uh… (They move even closer; he gradually crumples down.) …uh, maybe you could move your game somewhere else?

(The sound of a chainsaw scares him into dropping the ball. Pan quickly to a pegasus stallion attired for landscaping work and flying up to use this implement on a tree whose deep red foliage includes large red-orange flowers. He cuts through one branch, letting it fall.)

Spike: (panicked, to polo players) Uh, the Princess thanks you for your understanding!

(He races away and is up at the landscaper’s eye level in a blink, prompting the latter to shut off his chainsaw.)

Spike: Excuse me. Do you have to do this right now?

(This is all he can get out before letting go with a violent flaming sneeze, his eyes instantly going bloodshot.)

Spike: (looking up) Oh, no!

(Tilt up to follow his gaze and stop on the flowers, putting him o.s.)

Spike: (from o.s.) Are those…Dragon Sneeze trees?

(Back to him, rubbing his eyes and trying to hold back another sneeze.)

Landscaper: Duh, these are too top-heavy. (descending) Wouldn’t take much to bring these beauties down.

(Pan away from him on the end of this, framing a couple of adjacent trees that are indeed swaying and rocking dangerously under the weight of their own branches.)

Spike: Can’t you just wait a few hours? (The pegasus has now touched down and set his saw aside.)

Landscaper: Sorry, it’s a public hazard. (Spike slides down the trunk; his eyes are clear again.) I got my orders.

Spike: Well, I’ve got my orders too. (trying not to sneeze; close-up) Pr-Princess Twi…Twi…Twilight! (Here it comes.)

Landscaper: (from o.s.) Princess Twilight? (Cut to him, face/cap/mane badly singed; he laughs.) Why didn’t you say so? (He pushes his goggles up and glances toward the trees.) Gee, I reckon they’ll keep a few more hours. (He walks off.)

Spike: (to himself) Hmph. Good thing I got the Princesses on my side.

(The rumbling of a jackhammer causes him to jitter backwards into the street along which these trees are growing. Orange traffic cones have been set up here to fence off a rather large hole in the roadbed, and a unicorn stallion construction worker is using his magic to ply the tool against another spot.)

Spike: (briefly covering ears) Aw, come on! (Close-up of the stallion; he continues o.s.) EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME, SIR? (Back to him.) I REALLY NEED YOU TO STOP RIGHT NOW!!

(On these last three words, the jackhammer cuts out and the camera zooms out to frame pony and dragon.)

Spike: Oops. (The device falls to the ground.)

Construction worker: LET ME GUESS, THE NOISE? (turning to Spike) SORRY, BUT WE CAN’T HAVE A BROKEN WATER MAIN!

(On the end of this, tilt down to the hole, which has been dug to expose a cracked and leaking section of pipe.)

Spike: What, you couldn’t do this yesterday? (Cut to the worker.)

Construction worker: HEY, PAL! I’M JUST TRYING TO MAKE SURE EVERYTHING RUNS SMOOTH FOR THE SUMMIT! (Back to Spike on the start of the next line.)

Spike: But there is no Summit without Princess Twilight, and she needs things to be kept quiet around here! So if you don’t mind, I—

Construction worker: ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT, IF THAT’S HOW SHE WANTS IT! (He walks off, then instantly gets back in Spike’s face.) BUT IF SOMETHING HAPPENS, IT AIN’T MY FAULT!

(Off he goes again. Spike glances to one side, the camera panning quickly in that direction to stop on a stretch of quiet, empty street. Back to him, looking to his other side; a quick pan shows nothing going down over here either, and he grins proudly.)

(Dissolve to the upper end of the leading up to the doors to Twilight’s suite. Zoom in slowly as Spike gains the balcony, then cut to him taking a seat in front of the entrance.)

Spike: (smugly) Hmph. Princess Twilight will be rested, Princess Cadence will be proud, and… (reaching behind himself, pulling out a red gem; zoom in) …Princess Spike deserves a little reward. Heh! Princess Spike.

(Chuckling, he licks his chops and prepares to bite down on the treat. He is cut off by the sound of two approaching, arguing voices: one male with a heavy New York accent, one female with a Minnesota accent. The owners of these voices come up the stairs; the male is a heavyset tan earth pony stallion with a short, three-tone dark gray mane/tail, sideburns, green eyes under bushy eyebrows, and a slice of pizza as a cutie mark. He wears a blue suit jacket, white shirt, and yellow necktie. The female is an off-white earth pony mare: red-violet eyes, two-tone blond mane/tail, and a cutie mark of a steaming cup of coffee. She wears a heavy, fur-lined, brown winter jacket and a matching cap with flaps pulled down to cover her ears, along with a khaki shirt and black necktie. Both have attendee badges hanging around their necks—delegates from Manehattan and Whinnyapolis, respectively, or MA and WH for short. The next two lines overlap.)

MA delegate: Hey, let me tell you somethin’, all right? I worked forever on this speech, and I know I have more—

WH delegate: I got the school slip right here. If you just take a look, it says we have the authority. You know what? I think I would give a—

(Spike gets out a “Huh?” underneath this cacophony, his face falling at the interruption of his snack, but puts a smile in place once the two delegates reach the balcony.)

Spike: Uh, hi! Uh, can I help you?

WH delegate: My friend here, the distinguished pony from up Manehattan, and I are—are in a bit of a pickle. And we need the Princess Twilight to resolve it.

Spike: Uh, can you talk a little quieter, and maybe come back later?         

WH delegate: Oh, sure now, gosh, I wish we could, but, uh, we’re both supposed to give speeches about our local economies in five minutes, and we’ve been booked in the same hall!

MA delegate: I had the room first! And let’s be honest, my speech is more important.

WH delegate: Point of order there, sir, but I think you’ll find that my speech is the more important one, dontcha know.

MA delegate: (to Spike) Look. Youse is gonna have a lot of unhappy delegates on your hooves unless we get a rulin’ from Princess Twilight right now!

(The dragon-on-the-spot chews his lower lip, looks fearfully from one pony to the other, and voices a heavy sigh.)

Spike: Let me see what I can do.

(He heads for the doors. Cut to inside the suite as he opens one door and peeks in; the resulting shaft of sunlight falls across the slumbering Twilight just long enough for him to close it. He tiptoes over to the bed with infinite care and climbs onto a chair so he can look her straight on. After a moment’s hesitation over whether to wake her up, she solves the problem by sitting up in bed—and startling him into a shrill scream to boot. Her next two lines are delivered in the drowsy tone of someone who is at least thirty winks short of their usual allotment of forty.)

Twilight: Does something need scheduling?

Spike: Oh, uh…uh, yeah. Two delegates have speeches booked in the same hall. What do I do?

Twilight: Okay, no problem. Just put the hay in the apple and eat the candle, hmm?

Spike: Huh?

(The sleep-deprived Princess yawns and goes right back to dreamland in close-up. Zoom out to frame Spike, on the verge of tearing his scales out.)

Spike: (sputtering) Oh, I need an answer, but Twilight can’t even think straight! (Close-up; zoom in slowly.) Oh, my gosh. What am I supposed to do?

(Fearful shivers run up and down the reptilian body before the view snaps to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to the two delegates standing outside the doors. Spike lets himself out and closes them again.)

MA delegate: Well, what did she say? (Close-up.) She picked me, right? (Zoom out to frame his colleague.)

WH delegate: Hey, hey, hey! Let’s not be too hasty there, good sir. I got a feeling she went with me. (Cut to Spike.)

MA delegate: (from o.s.) Hey, hey, if she didn’t pick me, it ain’t hard to see that— (Back to him.) —as an insult to all of Manehattan! You know what I’m sayin’? (To Spike, now sweating and shaking; zoom in slowly.)

WH delegate: (from o.s.) And it’d sure be a shame to see something like a scheduling issue— (Back to her.) —create a nasty old rift between Whinnyapolis and Ponyville. (Spike again.)

MA delegate: (from o.s.) So? (Both ponies.) What did the Princess say?

WH delegate: Come on now. Spit it out.

(Ground level, framing Spike through both sets of forelegs; zoom in slowly.)

Spike: Um…she said that…well…she said that she…she wants you to… (small voice) …share it?

(He cringes as if expecting a blow from one or the other, but none is forthcoming. In fact, the quarreling delegates have fallen completely silent; it takes a moment for the stallion to speak.)

MA delegate: If that’s what the Princess wants… (offering a front hoof to the mare) …what are you gonna do?

WH delegate: (smiling, shaking it) The Princess is always right.

(He returns her smile as they head back down the stairs. The next two lines overlap, fading out.)

MA delegate: Listen, no hard feelings. This is not about you or me, right? I mean, this is a…

WH delegate: Now there you go. We got a solution. I have no hard feelings…

(Spike sits down with a relieved sigh. A moment later he is back on his feet and pulling a bowlful of gems out from behind himself.)

Spike: Now, back to more important things.

(One of which consists of munching down on the first precious stone he can fish up. Dissolve to him sitting at the doors and patting his full belly; the now-empty bowl rests alongside, a few jewel crumbs scattered around it. His respite lasts only as long as it takes for a set of hooves to hurry upstairs and the camera to zoom out. The new arrival is an angry delegate: earth pony stallion; light blue-gray coat; blue eyes; short, medium blue mane/tail/mustache; cutie mark of a raining cloud; gray shirt collar; pink bow tie.)

Bowtie: Combining those two talks was a disaster! (Spike’s eyes pop; close-up.) The hall was overcrowded and the speakers just shouted over each other!

Spike: (from o.s.) Huh? (Back to him, standing up.) But— (Bowtie gets in his face.)

Bowtie: Why would the Princess have made such a decision?

(A question to which the one who actually made it has no immediate answer. Here comes the sound of more irate voices, and the delegates belonging to them start up the stairs toward the balcony. Flying behind them is Fluffy Clouds, the white-maned blue pegasus who appeared briefly in “Tanks for the Memories.”)

Spike: Uh-oh.

(The new arrivals quickly close in on him, leaving no escape route thanks to the closed doors at his back. Zoom in on his apprehensive visage; after several seconds, he gathers his courage.)

Spike: Uh… (voice raised) …by order of Princess Twilight…BE QUIET!!

(That gets them to put a sock in it; his voice echoes over the lands far below in the sudden stillness. He claps his hands to his mouth as the camera zooms out slowly, after which the view cuts back to a close-up and Fluffy touches down with the group.)

Fluffy: I was really looking forward to the “Don’t Spend All Your Bits” speech— (voice breaking) —but when I went into the hall— (sitting on haunches, starting to cry) —a pony had taken my seat. (sobbing) A pony who used to be my friend! (Close-up of Spike.)

Spike: Your friend took your seat? Heh, big deal! Why don’t you just—

Fluffy: (from o.s., composed) No offense— (Back to him, wiping his eyes.) —but I don’t need some random dragon’s opinion. I-I want to hear what Princess Twilight thinks.

Spike: (groaning) Fine.

(Cut to just inside the suite as he lets himself in and closes the door. He stops short, noting Twilight sleeping like a rock, and opens the door again to step back out while keeping an eye on her. Cut to the balcony as he pulls his head out to address the group.)

Spike: Uh… (closing door) …the Princess says no friendship should end over a seat. You should forgive your friend.

Fluffy: (gasping deeply) Of course! (standing up) Oh, the Princess is so wise.

(He trots happily away, and the others fall to talking among themselves in considerably better spirits than when they came up.)

Spike: (to himself) I could tell these delegates anything, as long as they think it came from Twilight.

(An idea hits him upside the head, the camera briefly zooming in to an extreme close-up of his face as a shrewd grin takes root on it. Next he turns to face the ponies, who have gone quiet.)

Spike: All right! Who’s next?

(Dissolve to a close-up of him and zoom out. Matilda has brought a problem to him; he ducks inside the suite, then pops back out a second later with a big smile and a thumbs-up. She beams at this and gallops away, to be quickly replaced by a mare seeking his advice. Pan away from her and down the stairs, framing the inordinately long line of ponies waiting their turn, then dissolve to a close-up of a stallion and mare arguing vehemently on the balcony. Spike listens, darts into the suite, and reappears a second later. He points at them with separate hands, then crosses his arms in a “trade places” gesture. This solution sits well with both, if their smiles are any gauge.)

(Dissolve to a close-up of the proud baby dragon at his post, then zoom out to show Bowtie stepping up with a matter to discuss. He ends by pulling his badge out on its lanyard as far as it will go, as if to give Spike a better look; the latter steps in, but comes out with a downcast look. Whatever idea Bowtie had has been shot down; he walks off dejectedly, and a griffon flies down and lands on the balcony as the next one. Spike enters the suite and quickly returns a thumbs-up, causing the beaked face to split into a broad grin.)

(A quick series of cuts brings up the following supplicants at the hallowed doors. A well-dressed unicorn stallion, who gets an “A-OK” gesture…a crystal pony mare, thumbs down…a frizzy-haired earth pony stallion, thumbs up. From here, cut to a stretch of the stairs, on which Jet Set—one of the upper-class snobs Rarity met during “Sweet and Elite”—and Minuette are among those waiting in line. Frizzy makes his way down past them, all smiles. A dissolve shifts the view to another bit of the staircase; among this group are Lemon Hearts and a skinny, bucktoothed, bespectacled earth pony mare. Blue-violet coat; two-tone curly orange mane/tail, the former tied in a high ponytail; birdcatcher spots under blue eyes; cutie mark of several scattered pages of notes; off-white, short-sleeved dress shirt and brown sweater vest. She wears eyeglasses that have been broken at the bridge and taped back together. Yet another dissolve shows Jet’s wife, Upper Crust, impatiently whiling away her time.)

(Cut to Fluffy on the balcony, his face brightening when Spike delivers a thumbs-up. As he flies back downstairs, Spike brushes some dust off his hands and does not immediately notice that Fancypants has made it up here and is waiting right behind him. He turns to face the dapper unicorn—whose badge is clipped to his morning coat, rather than on a lanyard—without missing a beat.)

Spike: So, how can Princess Twilight be of service?

Fancypants: Well, as host city, the Canterlot delegation feels it’s only right that we should get passes to every meeting and party, yes?

Spike: Well, that doesn’t seem fair. (catching himself) I-I mean,, uh, Princess Twilight doesn’t think that seems fair. (Fancypants lets out a long, disappointed breath.)

Fancypants: Yes, yes, eh, very well. (smiling) It was worth a try, though, wasn’t it, old chap, hm? (He descends the stairs.)

Spike: (to himself) This is great! I just took care of a whole bunch of stuff that Twilight won’t have to worry about when she wakes up! (smiling shrewdly) Wonder if anypony else needs the Princess’s help.

(Cut to inside the suite as he lets himself in. A glance at the note-covered builletin board hanging by the desk, and he spots and pulls down a scroll of some length. Outside again; he drags this document after him and shuts the door.)

Spike: If I can check a few of these meetings off Twilight’s schedule, then when she wakes up, she won’t have to think about anything but the reception.

(He squinches his eyes and taps one clawed finger against his chin in deep thought. Dissolve to a group of tables outside a café, set up with cushion seats; at one of them sits the skinny blue-violet mare who was in the line to see Spike. She bends down to sip from her cup of coffee in close-up. On the start of the next line, zoom out to frame Spike now standing directly across from her, scroll in hand.)

Spike: Uh…says here you have a meeting with Princess Twilight?

(A longer shot reveals that he has stacked a couple of books on his cushion to reach the level of the table. The geeky delegate speaks up with a nasal voice and a serious lisp.)

Geeky mare: Uh, yeppers. (pulling out a document) She wanted me to prep her on all the different gemstones in the “Citizens of Equestria” statue before the reception tonight.

(On the end of this, cut to a close-up of the sheet as she slides it across the table: a drawing of the statue unveiled in the prologue, with additional detail sketches to point out colors and shadings. Tilt up to frame Spike, rolling up the borrowed scroll and running a casual eye over the pictures.)

Spike: Okay, go ahead.

Geeky mare: Um, well, I’d rather, um, tell the Princess directly.

Spike: Well, if it helps, you can call me Princess Spike.

(He bats his eyelashes at her, but the only effect is to make her look uneasily around as if Twilight might suddenly materialize on any random cobblestone.)

Spike: No, no, no, it—it’s all right. Uh, the Princess asked me to take care of a few things for her. That’s why I came to find you.

Geeky mare: (nervously) Well…if you say so.

Spike: (smiling knowingly, pointing at scroll) The Princess says so.

Geeky mare: Well…okay. Let’s start with topaz.

(Dissolve to a close-up of the construction worker unicorn who had been digging to get at the water main in Act One. He is leaning idly on a portable safety barricade and munching an apple held aloft in his magic.)

Spike: (from o.s.) I’m here for your two o’clock.

(The fruit drops, forgotten, and the stallion turns in surprise as the camera zooms out to frame Spike on the scene. He does not shout as before, but speaks at a normal volume.)

Construction worker: You? But I’m supposed to be briefing Princess Twilight on the progress with the water main.

Spike: I speak for the Princess.

Construction worker: Oh, well, uh— (turning to the hole) —can I start fixing it again? I’m getting a little worried, to be honest.

(On the end of this line, tilt down to the damaged pipe, which has begun to rumble and creak audibly.)

Spike: Actually, Twilight still needs her rest, and her “no noise” policy is still in effect for a few more hours. Sorry.

(The unicorn glumly walks away, floating his jackhammer ahead of him; Spike heads across the street in the opposite direction, where Cadence is standing and looking on.)

Cadence: Hey, Spike. (He stops short, surprised.) What’s going on?

Spike: (quickly recovering himself) Ah, you know, just settin’ ’em up and knockin’ ’em down.

Cadence: What do you mean? (He tucks the scroll behind his back.)

Spike: Not only have I kept things quiet so Twilight could sleep, I also took care of all her afternoon meetings so she won’t have to worry about ’em when she wakes up. (Grin; close-up of Cadence.)

Cadence: (skeptically) Are you sure she’d want you doing that? There are so many things to keep track of at this summit. (Zoom out to frame Spike.)

Spike: (dismissively) Nah, don’t worry. I got it covered. I know Twilight so well, it’s easy to make decisions like her.

Cadence: (not convinced) Oh…okay. (walking away) Well, thank you for keeping Twilight’s stress level down… (Stop; glance pointedly back toward him.) …as long as that’s the real reason you’re doing it.

Spike: Well, why else would I be doing it? (She steps over to him.)

Cadence: (lifting his chin) You’re not enjoying speaking for Twilight a little bit?

(He grimaces to himself, then manages a shaky smile as she lowers the hoof.)

Spike: Enjoying it? (Chuckle.) No way! The only things I’m doing by order of the Princess are for the good of the Summit.

(The grin that he slaps on somehow fails to be totally convincing, but Cadence holds her tongue and instead walks off after giving him a searching look. Once she has spread her wings and lifted off from the street, he turns toward the camera with a slightly deranged little chuckle as it zooms in slowly.)

(Dissolve to the overly presumptuous dragon lying face-down on a massage table and getting a good thorough kneading by a unicorn stallion.)

Spike: (sighing, voice vibrating) By order of the Princess. Hah.

(Clouds of steam drift up to fill the screen, then dissipate to give a close-up of Gustave LeGrand—the griffon chef who appeared in “MMMystery on the Friendship Express”—carrying a tray of cupcakes and not looking too happy about it. Each one has been frosted in a different color and studded with tiny gems to match. Spike reaches into view and snags one; pan to the grinning gourmand, then cut to a longer shot. The two are standing in the kitchen of Canterlot Castle.)

Spike: By order of the Princess.

(He tosses the treat into his mouth and chomps noisily away as Gustave allows himself a thoroughly disgusted eye roll. From here, dissolve to a close-up of an old tan unicorn stallion whose mane/tail, eyebrows, and beard/mustache are streaked gray and white. He is in another part of the castle, using his magic to levitate a paint palette and ply a brush against an easel, and his cutie mark is a pony version of Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. A cut to just behind the artist frames the work in full: Spike, in his beefed-up humanoid form as seen during his hero fantasy in “A Dog and Pony Show,” reclining against a slab of rock and reaching lazily out toward several floating jewels. The camera pans away from the work to stop on Spike, modeling the pose as he lies on a chaise longue.)

Spike: (through his teeth) By order of the Princess.

(Dissolve to the ballroom, where Spike sits at one of several long tables near the “Citizens of Equestria” statue, a bowl of gems within easy reach. A banner matching the one hung over the city’s main entrance has been strung up here as well. Zoom in as he sighs blissfully.)

Spike: Princess life is good. (Close-up; he munches one. Sound of approaching hooves.)

Cadence: (from o.s.) It sure is— (Zoom out slightly; she walks up.) —but it’s also hard work— (pointedly) —isn’t it?

Spike: (shrugging) Eh, it’s not so bad. (He reaches to the bowl.)

Cadence: Spike, I’m concerned you might be abusing your relationship with Twilight.

Spike: (chuckling) What are you talking about? I’m a great princess.

(He catches himself, throws the gem he holds aside, and leans over the table toward her suddenly dirty look.)

Spike: I mean, Twilight’s a great princess, and I’ve been working hard to help her.

(Pan quickly to the MA and WH delegates shaking hooves after he mediated their dispute at the start of this act.)

Spike: (voice over) When two delegates had a falling out, I’m the one who fixed their friendship.

(Another pan; now the geeky mare gives an overview of the statue’s composition. During the next line, pan to frame a completely bored Spike across from her.)

Spike: (voice over) I listened to that pony drone on about gems for forty-five minutes— (He goes face-first on the table.) —so Twilight wouldn’t have to.

(A third pan; the four ponies who were playing polo in Act One stand close together, mallets in teeth but with no good idea of what to do with them. As he continues, zoom out to show them standing within a fenced-in enclosure, well outside the castle proper, that leaves them barely any room to turn around.)

Spike: (voice over) I moved a polo match away from the tower so she could sleep.

(One more pan returns the action to the ballroom.)

Spike: And I didn’t even eat that delicious-looking statue. I’m a decision-making master!

(All of this self-aggrandizement thoroughly fails to impress the pink Princess, who just cocks an eyebrow at him until he deflates with a sigh.)

Spike: Okay. So maybe I did get a little carried away making decisions, but it’s not like anything bad happened.

(Two of the polo players run into each other, and one swings his mallet to hit the ball. It flies wide, sailing over the fence and the castle wall, and scores a hit on the boughs of one Dragon Sneeze tree. It teeters precariously for a moment before the trunk snaps, leaving the whole thing to fall against the next tree in line; down goes this one, which in turn fells a third, which in turn lands squarely on the leaky water main. A mighty cracking and rumbling issues from beneath the deep red boughs, giving way to a massive jet of water as the pipe fails. Cut to the ballroom; one of the stained-glass windows takes the full brunt and shatters, and within seconds the place is flooded. Tree parts float on the current as Cadence’s yell splits the air; cut to her, flailing to keep her head above water. Spike is swept into view after her, lungs and arms working overtime as well. The deluge wipes out buffet tables and rips down the banner before carrying Cadence near the stage; she plods up the steps and onto it, shaking herself dry. An upside-down tale floats past, bearing Spike.)

Spike: This is unexpected!

Cadence: I’ll go shut off the main! You get rid of the water!

(As she flies off to cover her end, he spots his bowl of gems drifting past and hauls it in. Grimacing mightily at the sacrifice he knows he must make, he dumps the contents overboard and starts using the bowl in a fruitless effort to bail out the ballroom.)

(Outside, tilt down from the window through which the water is rushing in. Cadence has arrived at the site of the broken main, and she shifts her horn into top gear. A blaze of white light kindles at the end and triggers the growth of several feet of jagged, multicolored crystals over the free end that plug the torrent. Inside the castle, Fancypants hears rumbling from a set of closed double doors, uses his magic to open one, and is immediately hit with a gout of water that sweeps him away. The ballroom becomes visible through the doors as this subsides; cut to Spike, bowl in hand and still standing on his makeshift life raft. The water has drained out, leaving only a few puddles here and there. He looks about himself and runs across the room with a grin, dropping the bowl; cut to the spherical base of the statue—still somehow intact. Blooms, petals, and leaves from the Dragon Sneeze trees are scattered on the floor around it as he runs up.)

Spike: At least the statue’s okay.

(But he is not, as his allergy to this plant chooses this moment to kick in.)

 

Spike: (sniffling) Oh.

 

(Pan quickly to follow his glance across the room and stop on one bit of the offending flora.)

Spike: (from o.s.) Oh, no!

(To him again; here comes the windup, followed by a cut to a relatively clear patch of floor just before he lets rip with a sneeze. The sound of gems breaking apart is accompanied by a rain of loose ones that were once part of the splendid statue. Cut back to Spike, wiping his nose, and zoom out as he takes full, horrified notice of the near-total destruction he has just visited on this artwork. Only a section of the base has survived, but it too crumbles into single stones.)

Spike: (sourly) Oh, bless me.

(Snap to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to just inside the open ballroom doors. A great deal of very angry shouting makes itself heard, and here come a great deal of very angry ponies, headed by Fancypants.)

Fancypants: Oh, my!

(His perspective, panning slowly across the thoroughly trashed room, the remains of the statue, and Spike, then cut to an overhead shot as the group crosses to the dragon.)

Fancypants: What is the meaning of this? (Spike’s allergic reaction and the crowd both subside.)

Spike: (thinking fast) Well…uh…you see…there was this polo game, and— (Fancypants rounds on the construction worker.)

Fancypants: How could you let a water main burst on Canterlot’s most important day?

Construction worker: Hey, don’t look at me! Princess Twilight said to stop workin’ on it!

(The landscaper pegasus, having cleaned himself up from when Spike charcoaled him with a sneeze in Act One, finds himself under the white unicorn’s scrutiny next. A few Dragon Sneeze boughs are floated over for emphasis.)

Fancypants: Well, what about these trees? (He sends them away.) I ordered them trimmed to avoid just such a situation!

Landscaper: Well, the Princess told me to stop, bub.

Fancypants: (pacing a bit) Why would the Princess make such horrible decisions? This all could have been prevented!

(General disgruntled assent from the crowd.)

Spike: (from o.s.) Please! (Cut to him, standing on a broken table.) Everypony! Listen! I-I’m so sorry all this happened! (Fancypants eyes him.)

Fancypants: What are you apologizing for? These were Princess Twilight’s awful decisions!

WH delegate: I’m about to blow my stack on Princess Twilight, I tell you that for nothin’!

MA delegate: Yeah, me too!

Fancypants: I’ll not let Princess Twilight give Canterlot a bad name in the eyes of Equestria! Come on, everypony! Let’s go give her a piece of our minds!

(He gallops off, the others following with dander up and grumbles in throats.)

Spike: (jumping off table, running after them) Please! You’ve got it all wrong!

(Hooves of all colors pound their way up the tower stairs; as the crowd thunders its way through one spiral turn after another, Spike sprints up the banister in a desperate bid to beat them to the top. He wins the race and plasters himself against the doors of her suite, back first with arms thrown as wide as they will go.)

Spike: WAIT!!

(Dead silence, his one word ringing loud and clear; close-up of him.)

Spike: I mean… (softly) …waaaaait!

Fancypants: (from o.s., exasperated, sputtering a bit) What is it now? (Cut to him and the group.) There’s an angry mob here that demands satisfaction! (Back to Spike.)

Spike: (hushed) It-it’s just that, uh…we don’t want to wake the Princess, do we?

MA delegate: (from o.s.) Wake her?!? (Cut to him.) What?!? You’re tellin’ me that she’s asleep?!?

(That gets the ponies yelling all over again and starts them closing in on the overreaching dragon for good measure. He opens one door and ducks into the suite; cut to just inside as he repels Fancypants’s attempt to bull his way in and gets the door closed. A turn of the deadbolt seals it, and he heaves for breath.)

Fancypants: (from outside, through doors, pounding on them) Princess, we must speak at once!

Spike: (on his last good nerve) She…is…SLEEPING!!

(Realizing too late that he may have blown the game for good, he claps both hands over his mouth and shoots a glance toward the bed. The high-decibel onslaught, though, has not shifted Twilight even one iota from her nap, and he crosses the suite to regard her with a sigh from her bedside. Suddenly, she awakes and sits up with a happy yawn and stretch, fully rested and back to her normal self. The fatigue is gone from her face and voice.)

Twilight: I’m glad you’re here, Spike. We’ve got a lot to do. (She climbs out of bed and heads toward the doors.) Do you know if the water main was fixed?

Spike: (nervously) Uh…you seem well-rested.

Twilight: (laughing, stretching a hind leg) I haven’t slept like that since I was a filly.

Spike: You haven’t? Well, at least I got one thing right. (An idea occurs to him.) And it was the one thing Cadence asked of me! Maybe I did do a good job today!

(The muffled pounding and yelling from the other side of those doors throws enough of a scare into him to set him running across the room. Before he can either head Twilight off or slip out to calm down the crowd, they barge in, slamming the doors open with enough force to hurl him back across the suite with a yell.)

Twilight: Fancypants! What’s wrong? (He leans into her face; the crowd quiets down.)

Fancypants: Don’t play games with me, Princess! You know why I’m here.

Twilight: (backing away) I-Is this about the special privileges you wanted? Because this seems a little extreme.

Fancypants: (sputtering a bit) Special privileges?!? (stomping a hoof) The last thing on my mind is special privileges!

(Her brain stalls out for a fraction of a second. Once it finds second gear again, she aims a look across the suite, toward the window where Spike is trying to climb out with the help of a couple of books to reach the sill.)

Twilight: What’s going on, Spike?

(Cut to just outside the window on the end of this; he freezes in his tracks.)

Spike: Um… (Inside again; he turns to face her.) …you needed to sleep. (jumping off books, crossing room) And Princess Cadence told me you weren’t to be disturbed. And there was this bird and, well…long story short, I-I made a few decisions on your behalf.

(He hangs his head dejectedly. Cut to a close-up of Twilight in the ballroom; on the next line, zoom out as she takes in the extent of the wreckage. Spike and Cadence stand in front of her.)

Twilight: A few decisions? (She paces the floor.)

Spike: Well…maybe more than a few, but… (Cadence glares at him.) …I had good intentions! Honest! (The glare intensifies.) Until I… (Cut to Twilight, sadly regarding a torn ribbon; he continues o.s.) …didn’t anymore.

(On the start of the next line, pan slightly to frame him crossing toward her.)

Spike: I’m sorry, Twilight. (She drops the ribbon.) I guess I got a little carried away. It-it just felt so good to have ponies caring about my opinions on such important matters. I guess I was just enjoying feeling like a princess.

Twilight: (turning to him, lifting his chin with a smug smile) Well, Spike, one of the most important things a princess can do is realize when she’s made a mistake and fix it.

Spike: How do I do that?

Cadence: (pointing o.s.) You could start with them.

(Cut to the out-of-sorts delegates, then to Spike as he sighs heavily, then back to them.)

Spike: (from o.s.) Uh…hi there, everypony. (Anger melts into surprise; back to him, stepping forward.) So…I guess I owe you all a pretty big apology.

(Long shot of him, now standing on the ballroom stage with Twilight and Cadence looking on from one side as he speaks to the crowd. Slow pan.)

Spike: I-It’s funny. Here we are at a summit that brings together ponies from all across Equestria, and all I could think about was myself. (Cut to a slow pan through the crowd; he continues o.s.) You all came here to celebrate the things that make each of our cities so unique and special.

(Back to him on the end of this; he looks toward Twilight and Cadence, the camera zooming out to frame them nearby.)

Spike: But instead of getting into the spirit of things like all of you, I used my friend’s position to make myself feel good.

(As he finishes, cut to a close-up of a blue jewel lying on the stage at his feet; he reaches into view and picks this up, reflecting his contrite expression in each facet. The green eyes shift into determination, and the camera cuts to the delegates in time with the sound of gems clinking against each other. A zoom out shows the baby dragon trying to puzzle out their arrangement; he has a small portion of the base reassembled, but the next stone he places causes all the others to fall apart again. As he fumbles with them, Fancypants and the MA and WH delegates step to the front; a red gem falls loose, but before Spike can pick it up again, the unicorn’s magic takes hold and floats it up.)

Fancypants: The Canterlot ruby goes here, old sport.

(Close-up of it being set into its place on the end of this; next the WH delegate adds a piece alongside.)

WH delegate: And ours goes here, dontcha know.

(Good-natured talk and laughter begin to spread as the other attendees add in their cities’ gems, with mouths, hooves, magic, and griffon talons. One last piece added, and a brief glimmer of light plays over the entire statue; zoom out to frame it fully rebuilt.)

Spike: Does this mean you forgive me?

MA delegate: Sure! You know, the whole idea of the statue— (Cut to it, tilting slowly up along its height; he continues o.s.) —is that when each of us plays our own small part, it adds up to somethin’ great. (Back to ground level.)

Fancypants: Quite. (Slow pan across the group.) Just like how all our cities make up the beautiful land of Equestria.

(The camera motion puts him o.s. as he finishes. Cut to another tilt up the statue’s height; Cadence is in view for only the first few words of the following until the movement puts her out of frame.)

Cadence: I hereby dedicate the “Citizens of Equestria” statue to everypony who plays their part— (Back to her and Spike.) —no matter how big or how small.

(A collective cheer as one delegate brings Spike a bouquet of flowers—very familiar red-orange ones, nestled in a spray of equally familiar deep red leaves. He realizes this in the split second that it takes for his eyes to go bloodshot and watery, and one sniff confirms it: some dope decided to use Dragon Sneeze as a thank-you gift.)

Spike: Aw, come on!

(Twilight and Cadence, then Fancypants and the MA/WH delegates, recoil in horrified anticipation to the sound of his building sneeze, and the camera zooms out quickly from Spike as he braces himself to let fly. Before he can do so, the view snaps to black.)


PARTY POOPED

Story by Jayson Thiessen, Jim Miller

Written by Nick Confalone

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by M.A. Larson

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Directed by Jim Miller

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to the upper reaches of a corridor within Twilight Sparkle’s castle and tilt down to ground level. Her five friends stand side by side in a line, and she paces the carpet in front of them. In close-up, she doubles back to Pinkie Pie at one end with a queasy smile and a poke at the pink shoulder.)

Twilight: You look nervous. There’s no reason to be nervous. Nothing to worry about. (with a half-deranged grin) Everything’s gonna be fine.

Pinkie: (poking at Twilight’s chest) Twilight, tell those butterflies in your tummy to beat it. Making new friends is always fun.

(The Princess moans and puts a hoof to her forehead, sweat beginning to trickle down her face, as Fluttershy steps over to her.)

Fluttershy: They’re probably just as nervous as you are. (Applejack joins them.)

Applejack: You’ve been plannin’ this shindig for weeks. You know everythin’ about these fellers. It’s gonna be dandy.

(Twilight does the breathing exercise she learned from Princess Cadence in “Games Ponies Play”—inhale deeply with hoof to chest, then exhale while pushing it away—and adds a brief flaring/furling of her wings at the same time.)

Twilight: (calmly at first, but slowly becoming unhinged) You’re right. Remember, Equestria and Yakyakistan haven’t opened their borders for hundreds of moons. In fact, Yakyakistan is so far north of the Crystal Mountains, nopony’s even been there! (This scares Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity just a bit.) Imagine the look on Princess Celestia’s face when she finds out that we made friends with a yak prince! (Shaky giggle; she tries to compose herself.) I’m calm. I’m calm.

(A trumpet fanfare cuts off any further attempt to pull herself together; cut to a closed set of double doors, where Spike stands playing the instrument. These are flung open, smashing him against the nearest bit of crystal wall and allowing a red carpet to be unrolled toward the six equines. The broad, massive figures of two brown yaks can be seen beyond the doors, as can a patch of blue daytime sky—these are the castle’s front doors, and this scene is taking place in its entrance hall. The carpet reaches its full length, its leading edge stopping just short of the hooves of Twilight/Applejack/Rainbow/Rarity in close-up, and the camera tilts up to frame a mix of apprehensive and smiling faces.)

(The two yaks advance into the castle. Each wears a hemispherical steel helmet with brass accents and a bundle of brown hair at the peak tied as a topknot, a blanket over the great humped back, and a gold bracer is clasped onto each leg. One is a lighter brown than the other and wears a silver nose ring, its beard is divided into two bundles of hair secured with gold clips. The darker one wears a braided beard that ends in a tasseled gold cap. Massive, upward-bending horns project from each skull, the bottom edge of the helmets cut to accommodate them, and a fringe of fur completely covers the eyes. One horn on the darker one’s helmet has a thin, trailing gold ribbon tied around its base.)

(These two step to either side, the camera cutting to a close-up of a third set of gold-braced hooves behind them. The gold-banded end of a broad, red-brown beard hangs into view above them; tilt up to frame all of this yak, Prince Rutherford. Like them, his eyes are hidden behind thick fur and he has a blanket over his back. However, he wears a gold-studded steel crown instead of a helmet, belled earrings hang in both ears, and his two-tone gray-striped horns are each marked with three gold bands. A small ring encircles the tip of one as well, and his blanket sports gold trim. Manner of speaking: loud, brusque, no-nonsense, and—as will be made clear in the next few seconds—rather lacking in proper grammar.)

Rutherford: Ponies! Greetings, ponies!

(Twilight teleports from her end of the carpet to stop in front of the three new arrivals.)

Twilight: (bowing) Prince Rutherford, Your Majesty… (He inclines his head; she stands up.) …on behalf of all of us, I welcome you to Equestria.

Rutherford: Me honored! Yaks hope for great friendship between ponies and yaks!

(Leaning into her face, he delivers the next line forcefully enough to shake her and the room.)

Rutherford: Friends for a thousand moons! (She rubs one ear to clear it and smiles.)

Twilight: You must be hungry after your long journey.

(A gesture off to one side is Spike’s cue to push into view a long serving table set with assorted strange-looking delicacies. She backs off a couple of steps to make room for it.)

Twilight: We’ve prepared a banquet of traditional yak foods. (Rutherford runs a critical eye over the spread.)

Rutherford: If things not perfect, yaks get mad! Yaks always get mad when things not perfect!

(The pony Princess swallows hard and slaps on the biggest grin she can manage. Rutherford sniffs cautiously at one dish and takes a mouthful, chewing for a few long seconds. One eye pops open through the fringe of fur, exposing a green iris contracted to a point, and he spits the food across the room in a sudden rage.)

Rutherford: This no taste like yak food! (Cut to the ponies and zoom in slowly on Twilight’s cringing face; he continues o.s.) Fake pony food make yaks mad!

(The affronted Prince flips the table with a roar, and he and his two attendants waste no time in stomping both it and the inferior culinary offerings into mulch and kindling. They do not stop there, however, but proceed to lay waste to the entire entrance hall. Within seconds, walls have been rammed, banners torn down, doors shattered, a bench kicked to pieces, and general devastation wrought both high and low. Zoom out slowly to frame a horrified Twilight looking on, then cut to frame all but Pinkie in close-up. A bit of the magenta mane hangs into view at one side as Twilight chews her lower lip, and Pinkie eases toward her in just as much of a fright as the others.)

Pinkie: Is it okay to be nervous now?

(Twilight puts a hoof to her own mouth as if trying to fight the faintest urge to lose her breakfast at the wreckage. Fade to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to the upper reaches of the thoroughly trashed entrance hall and tilt down slowly to ground level. Fluttershy flies up to re-hang a tapestry, and Rainbow flies down with a broom as Applejack inspects a broken balcony railing. On the floor, Pinkie checks one of the doors while Rarity levitates the pieces of a shattered vase; Twilight glances fearfully over her shoulder just in time to see a chunk of crystal drop from the ceiling. Applejack uses a hammer in her mouth to nail a piece of the railing back in place, then shifts it to her front hooves.)

Applejack: Them yaks sure have a funny way of sayin’ howdy.

(Cut to Rarity, floating up a bottle of glue and applying it on the vase’s broken edges.)

Rarity: They’re different, that’s all. (Press halves together; set down on a pedestal, her smile fading.) Very different. (Rainbow flies over to Twilight.)

Rainbow: I think they broke my record for most stuff broken in under a minute.

(As she continues, she holds up a small trophy built as a stopwatch with springs popping loose. It has been knocked half off its base, and the nameplate is crooked.)

Rainbow: I mean, they even broke the trophy! (The watch pops loose and falls away; she goes to work sweeping up.)

Twilight: All we have to do is show them how great it can be to have friends— (Fluttershy flies down to her.) —before Princess Celestia arrives for the friendship party tonight. Now, who read the seven-volume cross-indexed history of Yakyakistan I recommended?

(The yellow pegasus’ eyes pop at the mention of this literary monster, but she quickly shifts her reaction to a grin that hides her mild panic at the half-crazed one that has come onto Twilight’s face. Across the way, Pinkie, Rainbow, and Rarity avert their eyes to avoid a direct line of sight.)

Rainbow: Um…I-I had a thing…

Pinkie: (cheerfully, hopping in place) I did, I did! (She slides over to Fluttershy.) Did you know they live so far north of the Crystal Empire that it’s cold all the time?

(Grabbing as much of the pink mane as she can, she wraps it around her head like a scarf.)

Pinkie: Yaks have yak fur to keep them warm. (Big squeaky grin; cut to Applejack.)

Applejack: Pretty sure that’s what fur’s always for, Pinkie Pie.

(The pink pony emerges from underneath the brown cowboy hat, startling its wearer into dropping her hammer.)

Pinkie: I know! Yaks are so cool!

(The tool comes down squarely on the vase Rarity had fixed, smashing it to pieces and leaving nothing but the base. She shoots a dirty look toward the balcony, having put away the glue; meanwhile, Fluttershy pats her mane back into place.)

Twilight: Pinkie Pie, can you show them around town? I know you have to plan the friendship party too— (All gather together; Rarity floats up the shards; Rainbow has put her broom away.) —but it would really help make them feel welcome.

Pinkie: Don’t worry. They’ll be in good hooves with me.

Twilight: (pacing) Remember, we want to make sure Equestria feels like home. That means doing everything we can to make this place feel like Yakyakistan.

Pinkie: (saluting) No problem!

Twilight: Good. Let’s get out there and make some new friends!

(Cut to a point somewhere between her and the others. Six hooves extend into view, pile up, and are pulled apart to the sound of cheers and laughter. From here, dissolve to a long shot of the main barn at Sweet Apple Acres and zoom in slowly. Big Macintosh and Apple Bloom stand just outside the open door and past its edge, as if trying to listen in on whatever is going on within.)

Applejack: (voice over) We know y’all are noble warriors—

(Cut to her and Pinkie inside, addressing Rutherford and his attendants.)

Applejack: —who avoid the so-called finer things— (removing hat, holding it to her chest) —so me and my family’d be honored if you rested here in the barn during your visit. (Cut to Pinkie, hopping across the floor to the end of something built from hay.)

Pinkie: Applejack and I made hay beds like you’re used to back in Yakyakistan.

(As she speaks, the camera zooms out to show this thing as one of three long, low rectangular bales, jutting out from the wall and laid out side by side. A pillow has been placed on the wall end of each.)

Rutherford: (stepping closer) Hmm…this perfect! (Applejack puts her hat back on.)

Pinkie: (as all three yaks cross to beds) You can snooze here all afternoon, ’cause you’re gonna need a lot of energy for my party tonight! (Close-up of her and Applejack on the end of this; they trade a grin.)

Applejack: (sighing, aside, to Pinkie) That wasn’t so hard.

Rutherford: (from o.s., angrily) Wait!

(Green and blue eyes shrink in shock; cut to Rutherford, hunched down and lapping at the hay of one bed.)

Rutherford: This not yak hay!

Pinkie: (as Applejack gently pulls her backward) Well, we didn’t have actual hay from Yakyakistan— (Macintosh and Bloom dive out of sight.) —but we tried our best to make it just like yours. (Rutherford stands up in close-up.)

Rutherford: Not perfect! (Zoom out; all three yaks stand at the beds.) Yaks destroy!

(And they proceed to do just that, stomping the impromptu sleeping accommodations apart with a great deal of yelling and grunting. Cut to just outside the door; Applejack and Pinkie gallop out, just ahead of a cloud of dust, as a pillow is flung out after them.)

Applejack: Pinkie Pie, what do we do?

(The party planner aims a puzzled glance back at the barn, then smiles as an idea takes hold. Dissolve to a couple of bedsheets strung up side by side on tree branches as makeshift stage curtians; she zips up to these.)

Pinkie: And now, for your entertainment pleasure,  presenting “Animals, Yakyakistan Style”!

(On the end of this, she pulls the curtains open and backs o.s. as the camera zooms in slowly on the now-exposed base of the tree trunk. Out come several small animals, including Fluttershy’s rabbit Angel; all are wearing small-scale yak horns, even two small chicks that sport one each. The group makes its way across the grass to a picnic blanket set with teapot and cups; the yaks stand behind this, Fluttershy sits on her haunches at one end, and Pinkie stands at the other. Close-up of Rutherford.)

Rutherford: Animals cute. (Pan toward Fluttershy.)

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Oh. (now in view) Thank goodness.

(Close-up of the chicks; one trips on a rock and falls forward, catching the tip of its horn in the grass. It strains for a moment and pops loose, leaving the thing stuck.)

Rutherford: (from o.s.) Wait! (Cut to the group.) These antlers lie! These not Yakyakistani animals! Yaks smash!

(Fluttershy can only start sweating bullets and manage a tiny whimper of total fear as the sovereign bovid rears up with a shout of fury. She swoops across, gathering up all the animals with almost no time spare before the front hooves come down to pulverize the tea party. Once he shakes the blanket off his horns, all three get into the act with gusto. Fluttershy watches the debacle from a tree branch on which she and the critters have perched, and Pinkie peeks out from a nearby fork.)

Pinkie: Okay, well, there’s still other things we can do. (nervously) I think.

(Dissolve to Rarity’s upper-story workroom/living quarters in the Carousel Boutique. Pinkie and the yaks are up here, and the designer trots past with a length of fabric trailing behind in her aura.)

Rarity: Yes, these are some of my favorite materials.

(Close-up as she crosses to her fabric shelves.)

Rarity: (levitating/unfurling a roll) Very rare. Imported from the Crystal Empire to match your northern sensibilities. (Now she floats up a basket of yarn.) I hope you’ll find them…

(She trails off into a gasp as the sound of uncouth munching reaches her ears, and she lets the supplies drop with a horrified look as the camera pans back to the yaks. They are chomping away at the first piece of cloth; back to her.)

Rarity: (small voice) …delicious.

(Pinkie crosses to her, and both pairs of blue eyes stare gobsmacked as a scrap of the textile is spat to the floor.)

Rutherford: (from o.s.) This don’t taste like yak fabric! (Overhead view of the trio.) Yaks destroy!

(Here they go, sending Rarity’s supplies and pony-shaped mannequins—and pieces thereof—all over the place. She turns away, crushed, as Pinkie tacks on an ingratiating smile and hoists a broken head.)

Pinkie: Everything’s gonna be fine. (Smile fades; she holds it up as a shield.) You’ll just…make it up to them…somehow.

(An expanse of cloth sails across the screen; behind its trailing edge, the view wipes to a tract of peaceful meadow.)

Pinkie: (from o.s., cheerfully) Listen up!

 

(Pan to her, hopping and leading the yaks over a rise. She no longer carries the dummy head.)

 

Pinkie: Tell your faces to hold on to their frowns— (stopping, bending backwards into half a headstand) —’cause they’re about to get turned upside down!

Rutherford: Hold your frown, face! (He grimaces as strongly as he can; Pinkie zips over.)

Pinkie: Hit it, Rainbow Dash!

(Here comes the blue flyer overhead, pushing a wide, fluffy cloud into place above the group. One solid buck causes the lower portion to detach and drop straight to the ground as a thick layer of snow, half-burying them in an instant. The airborne section begins to release a steady fall of the cold white stuff.)

Pinkie: Just like Yakyakistan’s snow, right? (Rainbow drops into a hover nearby.) Because snow is snow, no matter where it comes from.

(The two ponies trade a high five and confidently await Rutherford’s appraisal. He puts out his tongue to lick a few flakes off his nose, mulls it over for a second, and proceeds to lose his temper all over again.)

Rutherford: This not yak snow!

(Followed by him and his attendants thrashing madly at the instant blizzard; pan to a dumbfounded Pinkie and Rainbow.)

Pinkie: Seriously? (She watches a bit more, her spirits sinking.) Seriously.

(The pink face meets the snowpack in resignation. Dissolve to the tree-stump chandelier that Twilight’s friends hung up in her throne room during “Castle Sweet Castle,” all its gem-light strings glowing warmly, and tilt down to the central table. All six mares are seated around it on their thrones, and the table is bare of its magic map of Equestria.)

Applejack: You know— (Close-up; she forces a smile.) —it’s goin’ okay. (Pan quickly to each speaker in turn.)

Rarity: Satisfactory, I’d say.

Rainbow: It could be better.

Fluttershy: (half-hiding behind her mane) It’s not very good.

Pinkie: It’s a disaster! (Stay on her.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Pinkie Pie… (To her.) …tonight’s Yakyakistan theme party is more important than ever! (Zoom out slowly; she taps her front hooves together.) You’ll make them forget all about this afternoon, right?

(She ends this line with a shaky, half-crazed, pleading grin, and five pairs of eyes train themselves on one pink mare whose brain is ready to jump ship. The twitch of her mouth and one eye only underscores her mental strain.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Because if it’s not perfect— (Back to her and Rainbow.) —they’re gonna smash everything! And I’m not sure how much more smashing this visit can take!

(This time, she finishes by shooting out of her seat and leaning over the table, supporting her weight on her front hooves. Pinkie responds by hunching down behind the edge in front of her throne, but she manages to get up and lean across with a desperate smile.)

Pinkie: I definitely will! (losing resolve) I think? (Hunch down again.) Maybe?

Applejack: (from o.s.) You’re the best gosh-darn party planner in Equestria. (Cut to her on the end of this, then pan quickly to each speaker in turn.)

Rainbow: You’ll show ’em a good time.

Fluttershy: You can do it!

Rarity: We have absolute confidence in your abilities, Pinkie Pie. (Back to Pinkie, now sitting up.)

Pinkie: It’s going to be my most happy-tacular party ever! (nervously) I hope.

(Putting on a big grin that is not at all squeaky, she flicks her eyes from side to side.)

Rainbow: Why are your eyes darting around like that?

Pinkie: It’s what I do when I’m not nervous! (Loud, shrill laugh; Twilight steps over to her.)

Twilight: (putting a foreleg around her shoulders) Pinkie Pie, I don’t know what we’d do without you. (Pinkie shoves her back.)

Pinkie: Me either! Gotta go!

(The words are barely out of her mouth before she bolts for the door, the sound of her galloping hooves fading away in the quiet. Dissolve to the upper portion of Sugarcube Corner and zoom in slowly to the sound of the hyperactive mare’s hyperventilation, then cut to her in the bedroom. She is lying upside down on a couch, head and forelegs hanging off the front edge and hindquarters extending up past the top edge of the back. Her pet alligator Gummy sits on a stool to look out a window.)

Pinkie: Gummy, what am I gonna do? (She flips upright.) I have all this amazing stuff planned for the party, but they’re gonna hate it!

(Her entire head seems to deflate partway and flatten out against the couch cushion, causing her despondent frown to stretch to ludicrous proportions. Cut to just outside the window, revealing that Gummy is watching a bee buzzing over its flower box and trying to catch it with his tongue.)

Pinkie: (from around sill inside) There’s no way to make Equestria feel like Yakyakistan.

(Inside again; she slides off the couch and onto the floor, face down, then pops up to all fours.)

Pinkie: They’re just too sensitive! (pacing a bit) Even Fluttershy made them mad! (sobbing) Fluttershy!

(Outside the window again; the bee slowly flies away.)

Pinkie: (walking into view) Ooh, I need a new idea, and I need it now.  

(Inside, the camera aimed through the window to pick out Twilight leading the yaks through the street below. Zoom out to frame Pinkie and Gummy on the start of the next line.)

Pinkie: How am I supposed to make this party feel like Yakyakistan without actually going there and bringing something back?

(The toothless reptile just flicks out his tongue and licks the end of her nose, prompting her into a lung-bursting gasp and a calculating smile.)

Pinkie: Gummy, you’re a genius.

(Planting a big kiss on the top of his head, she drops him and disappears in a pink/magenta blur. Cut to the exterior of Sugarcube Corner; Twilight steps into view to point it out.)

Twilight: And this is Sugarcube Corner. (A different angle frames her addressing the yaks.) They’re working hard to make you a traditional Yakyakistan cake.

Rutherford: Vanilla extract balance very tricky.

Attendants: Uh-huh.

Twilight: (grinning nervously) Do you mind, um, waiting here for one moment?

(She teleports herself away; cut to Pinkie’s bedroom, where she rematerializes in close-up.)

Twilight: (hastily) How’s tonight’s party coming? I’m doing what I can, but it’s really up to you at this point!

(Dead silence greets her; zoom out to show that Pinkie has vacated this bit of the premises.)

Twilight: (looking around herself) Pinkie? WHERE ARE YOUUUU?

(Snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of Twilight’s hooves crossing the bedroom floor. Tilt up to her face; she chews a front hoof worriedly, then looks across to the stairs leading up from the shop below. Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow, and Rarity have just come up.)

Twilight: Did you find her?

Fluttershy: Angel and I searched the forest, but… (Close-up; she shakes her head sadly. Tilt up to the hovering Rainbow.)

Rainbow: Aerial recon turned up nothing either. (Cut to Applejack and Rarity.)

Applejack: I searched the farm inside and out. (Doff hat.) No Pinkie Pie, but I did find a set of Granny Smith’s dentures under the house. So… (Don hat.) …not a complete loss.

Rarity: She’s simply vanished!

Twilight: (from o.s.) But the party! (Cut to frame all five; she turns away.) It’s all we have left! What are we gonna do?

(Her rattled ruminations come to a dead stop when Gummy drops into view, landing neatly on top of her head. Out comes his tongue to dangle a saliva-covered document before her eyes, bearing Pinkie’s cutie mark; she warms up her horn and floats this away for a close look.)

Twilight: (reading) “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in time for the party. Love, Pinkie Pie.”

(Now really confused, she levitates both the letter and the pet away from herself and turns back to the other four.)

Twilight: If Pinkie Pie says she’ll be back in time for the party, she’ll be back. We have to trust her, right? (Close-up; her wings flare as she sweats and her last good nerve starts to fray.) No reason to FREAK OUT!

(Fluttershy crosses to the Princess on the verge of a psychotic break.)

Fluttershy: Don’t worry, Twilight. (Violet wings fold away.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) When it comes to parties— (Cut to her and Rarity; Rainbow lands next to them.) —I think she knows what she’s doin’.

(Twilight does her breathing exercise again, as in the prologue, and gets herself under control.)

Twilight: You’re right. Let’s just focus on keeping the yaks happy ’til she’s back.

Rainbow: Piece of cake!

(The mental motor under the striped dark blue mane chooses this moment to throw a rod.)

Twilight: THE CAKE!!

(Cut to the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner. On the counter stands a cake styled as a tall mountain, with horns jutting out from opposite sides and waterfalls of white icing that tumble into the hay piled up around the base. One top-to-bottom slice has been cut away and is being carried across the room on a plate by Mrs. Cake.)

Mrs. Cake: One bite and you’ll be transported right back toYakyakistan.

(On the end of this, the camera cuts to a different angle, showing that she is placing it on the counter as a presentation to Rutherford. The other two yaks stand a pace behind him. Mrs. Cake manages a chuckle, but the set of her face gives away the extreme trepidation that has taken hold of her.)

Mrs. Cake: I hope.

(The flash of Twilight’s teleport plays across the room from nearby o.s.; zoom out to show her now standing near the baker and ready to panic afresh. Rutherford chomps the entire slice down in one bite and chews it slowly.)

Rutherford: Mmm…mmm…

(He grimaces ever so slightly; cut to the two mares’ side of the counter as his shadow looms quickly over them.)

Rutherford: (from o.s.) PONIES TOO HEAVY ON VANILLA EXTRACT!

(Back to him, venting his newfound spleen with a roar and a hoof strike that destroys the rest of the cake. Cut to a close-of Twilight as bits of confectionary go shooting past, accompanied by the roar and rumble of a new wrecking spree, and zoom in slowly.)

Twilight: (very scared) We’ve never needed a party so badly.

(Dissolve to a train rolling through the countryside, then cut to the interior of one car. The door at the far end opens to admit the conductor.)

Conductor: Next stop, Crystal Empire!

(A close-up of one seat picks out the two ponies occupying it; one is Pinkie, staring out the window with narrowed eyes, and the other is hidden behind a newspaper. The conductor walks down the aisle past them; zoom in on the pink traveler as she turns from the glass.)

Pinkie: (quiet, dramatic tone) And so my quest begins. (Look out window.) I know what you’re thinking. “Why go to Yakyakistan alone, Pinkie Pie?” Because I’m the party planner. (standing on seat, tapping/rubbing her cutie mark) This burden falls on my rump and my rump alone.

(Cut to just outside the window; she pops up into view to gaze through it.)

Pinkie: (with growing energy) If I want a great party, I gotta climb the mountains north of the Crystal Empire, find Yakyakistan, and come back with something authentic!

(Inside again; she turns to her seatmate and pulls the paper down. This pony is a stallion with a heavy case of five o’clock shadow. Pinkie is all smiles again.)

Pinkie: Know what I mean?

(Any further attempt at conversation goes down the drain when the train comes to an abrupt halt, throwing her halfway off the seat. She gets her wits about her after a moment, climbs down, and looks out the window at the cacti and corral fences that run alongside the track. Cut to her perspective, panning slowly from one side to the other to take in a Western-style settlement under a blazing sun.)

Pinkie: Did we go the wrong way?

(The view now shifts to a station platform, where this train has pulled up. The car door slides open and she looks out.)

Pinkie: Where’s all the snow? (Ground level; she leans down over a pile of sand or dirt.) Please tell me this is magical sand-colored snow!

(A mouthful taken; a face-distorting grimace; a spit to get her mouth clear.)

Pinkie: Nope! Sand. (She stands up on the platform; the conductor is at the far end.) Definitely sand. (She scrapes it off her tongue.)

Conductor: Dodge City, end of the line, I’m afraid. All trains had to stop. Sheep decided to sit on the tracks.

(Pan quickly to the length of track directly in front of the stopped locomotive. Sure enough, quite a few of the woolly beasts are lollygagging out here. Pinkie flashes into view among them.)

Pinkie: CURSE YOU, SHEEP!! (She whips back onto the platform and addresses the conductor, saluting.) Thanks for your help, conductor.

(And then, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, she hops merrily along the planks and off the end, toward an outhouse that stands next to the station. The door swings open just in time for her to hit it face first and crumple to the dirt, and out steps Cherry Jubilee—the cherry ranch owner that Applejack briefly worked for in “The Last Roundup.” Pinkie looks up from her prone position once her eyes start working properly again.)

[Continuity error: In that episode, the town that served as Jubilee’s base of operations was named Dodge Junction, not Dodge City.]

Pinkie: Cherry Jubilee!

Jubilee: Pinkie Pie?!? (helping her up) I reckoned I eyeballed you crossin’ my way right now.

Pinkie: How are you? You look amazing! (pushing her down to haunches) I need help.

Jubilee: I’m dandy as a daffodil and fit as a floribunda. (Stand up.) What can I do you for?

Pinkie: Have you heard of Yakyakistan? Do you have any idea how I can get there? (Jubilee zips over to her and rests a hoof on one shoulder.)

Jubilee: Mark your calendar, missy, ’cause this right here’s your lucky day!

(She walks off, away from the station, with the pink traveler following. On the start of the next line, zoom out to frame a stagecoach parked in front of them; it is loaded with baskets of cherries, and four tired-looking earth pony stallions stand in the harnesses.)

Jubilee: I’m headin’ north to the Crystal Empire myself for a delivery. (climbing onto driver’s seat in close-up) I’d warn you, though—me and the boys are powerful tired ’cause we was up all night countin’ cherries.

(Zoom out on the second half of this latter sentence to frame the weary stallions, one of whom has gone to sleep on his hooves.)

Jubilee: Hey there! (He snaps to with a neigh.) Wake up! (Close-up of the cargo, the side of Jubilee’s head barely in view.)

Pinkie: (climbing into coach) Counting cherries? How many? (Zoom out; now the fatigue on Jubilee’s face is clearly visible.)

Jubilee: Four hundred and seventeen thousand, two hundred and thirty-four.

(The fact that she can put an exact number to it causes Pinkie’s face to nearly slide off her skull from sheer disbelief.)

Jubilee: Yee-haa!

(A snap of the reins brings the pulling team back to full consciousness, and Pinkie lets out a surprise yelp, thrown against the back of her seat as they start to roll. Cut to a pan across an arid desert landscape; on the start of the next line, zoom out to put the coach in the fore, with the pink rider sitting on her haunches and staring back the way they came.)

Pinkie: (quiet, dramatic tone) And so my quest resumes. As I stare across the endless desert, I tell myself I will soon triumphantly enter the homeland of our noble guests and return with a prize to make the best party they’ve ever seen.

(Close-up; she faces front, instantly all smiles again as after her monologue on the train.)

Pinkie: Know what I mean?

(Zoom out slightly. She is now standing up behind the driver’s seat, on which Jubilee is sprawled out and sleeping like a baby.)

Pinkie: (puzzled) Cherry?

(Bug-eyed terror rivets itself onto her face as the camera zooms out again. Not only is the driver asleep, but so is the pulling team—and still going at a full gallop. Pinkie shades her eyes with a hoof and squints ahead, the view cutting to her perspective and zooming in quickly on a ravine. A quick zoom out frames this unwelcome natural feature as a reflection in one of her pupils.)

Pinkie: Ravine! (louder; nudging Jubilee) Ravine!

(This wake-up attempt gets her nowhere; neither do a ringing alarm clock and a bucket of water dumped over the slumbering cherry farmer.)

Pinkie: (pounding on bucket) WAKE UP!! (to stallions) Wake up!

(Still no good; now the coach is only a few dozen yards from the edge. Spotting the reins pinned under Jubilee’s body, Pinkie takes hold and pulls with all her strength. This starts the team on its collective journey back to full alertness; once their minds can comprehend the looming disaster, hooves dig into the hardpan.)

Pinkie: STOOOOOOOP!!

(Dust clouds fly up around the coach as it screeches to a halt, ending up with all four stallions hanging just over the edge. One last heave on the reins flips the entire harness assembly up and backwards, throwing them clear; she falls down among the cherry baskets, and they come down right on top of her. Jubilee snaps awake and sits up.)

Jubilee: Huh? (Gasp.) Whoa. I was dreamin’ about a ravine.

(A downward glance and an overhead shot point out just how deep this one goes; she leans into view to peer at the trickle of water at the bottom. This is enough to scare the bejesus out of her.)

Jubilee: RAVIIIIINE!!

(Long profile shot of the coach, which has stopped on a small outcropping that projects from this side. Jubilee jumps from her perch into the rear passenger seat.)

Pinkie: That’s what I said.

(The weight shift causes the none-too-sturdy shelf of rock to crack and collapse, dumping the coach unceremoniously o.s.)

(Dissolve to Spike, playing a classical piece on an upright piano that has been set up on an outdoor stage. Zoom out to show Twilight and the three yaks as his audience, the latter three crying softly at the baby dragon’s skillful performance. The stage is the one that has been set up on the Ponyville schoolhouse lawn for various purposes. A close-up points out the yaks’ streaming eyes; Rutherford’s two attendants wipe away their tears with handkerchiefs, and one of them lets the Prince blow his nose on his.)

Rutherford: Music beautiful. Much soul. (Pan to Twilight.)

Twilight: (wiping face with a wing) Phew.

(Spike finishes the piece and leans out over the end of the piano bench, blowing out a relieved breath. He then jumps down and circles to face the group.)

Spike: When Twilight told me to stall— (catching himself) —I-I mean, entertain you, I…I thought— (leaning against piano) —there’s no way I could—

(The melody resumes at this point, even though he is nowhere near the keys, and his eyes pop in most unwelcome surprise. A puzzled grunt from the yaks is followed by the entire instrument being spun 180 degrees to expose Spike’s side—it is a player piano. Tilt down from a close-up of the paper roll being drawn through the mechanism and stop on the panic-stricken ersatz virtuoso, then cut to Twilight.)

Twilight: Spike! (She frantically draws a hoof across her throat—“cut it out!”)

Rutherford: Piano play itself?!? (Cut to Spike, yanking at one of its legs; he continues o.s.) Music a lie!

(The ruler’s growing yell gives Spike just enough time to glance upward and see the shaggy brown body coming straight down at him from a high leap. However, the baby dragon only stands paralyzed with fear as the shadow falls over him. Cut to Twilight, now airborne, who winces from both the crash of splintering wood and the debris that goes hurtling past her. She catches Spike in her forelegs, and as the dust clears over the stage, Rutherford and his two attendants gather behind the remains of the piano.)

Rutherford: We demand party! Party now, or yaks no friends! (Spike now rides on Twilight’s back.)

Twilight: No! (They leave the stage; she swoops down after them.) Just a little longer! (They turn to her.)

Rutherford: No more longer! (He leans into her face.) We leave now! Yak go to train! Return with more yaks! (Extreme close-up, the fur blowing clear of his eyes.) We declare war!

(Twilight and Spike gasp in unison at this instant diplomatic disaster. Snap to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to a Ponyville street. Twilight flies into view above it, darting here and there like a hummingbird on a severe caffeine overload, and goes into a charge that leads her to the town hall. Spike is no longer riding on her back. Tilt down from the roof as she descends into a hover; the entire building is festooned with a garish display of balloons and banners, a couple of which feature apples in their design.)

Twilight: No Pinkie Pie?

(At ground level, she finds Applejack trying to paint a sign and Fluttershy fooling with an un-inflated balloon. Rarity lies sprawled out on her belly, and boxes of supplies and bits of random materials are scattered about on the grass.)

Twilight: What’s this? (The banner is a sloppy mess; Fluttershy tries to blow up her balloon, with no luck.)

Applejack: (chuckling weakly) We panicked and tried to plan our own party.

(Rainbow drops into view, tangled in bunting and streamers and hanging from the second-floor balcony.)

Rainbow: It’s sort of panic-themed.

Twilight: The yaks are going home! This is awful! (sadly) I wanted to surprise Princess Celestia. Now the only surprise is that I may have just started a war.

(Dissolve to a blizzard-swept piece of mountainous terrain under a leaden sky, far away from any trace of civilization. Pinkie trudges into view over a rise, following a rope that has been strung up as a guide.)

Pinkie: (quiet, dramatic tone) There we were, face to face with Falling Pony Ravine.

(A dissolve takes the action back to the stagecoach’s plunge into the chasm, with her face faintly superimposed on the view.)

Pinkie: Down, down, down! (It drops o.s.) And then suddenly… (with enthusiasm) …pow! (Coach rises into view, held aloft by three Wonderbolt cadets.) We were rescued midair by the Wonderbolts!

(A camera flash, and the screen is now filled with a photo that shows Pinkie, Jubilee, and the four stallions waving goodbye as one cadet—Cloudchaser, to be exact—and a full-time member fly off. The group and their vehicle have been deposited outside a theater in Manehattan.)

Pinkie: (voice over) And then they gave me a ride to Manehattan— (Flash; now she plays drums in a four-piece band.) —where I joined a traveling band— (Flash, black-and-white picture of them performing live.) —and we played some shows here and there—

(Flash; they cross a street in the Crystal Empire, Pinkie hopping as usual. The other three have let their manes/tails/beards grow out. This picture is in color again.)

Pinkie: (voice over) —got popular— (Flash; they and many other ponies in all manner of dress have gathered for a group shot.) —almost made it big until creative differences tore us apart.

(On the end of this, another flash presents a picture taken in the square beneath the Crystal Castle. The other three members have turned their backs on each other and on Pinkie, who stands helplessly at the center of the space as they walk away. One last flash brings back the here and now; she walks a few steps ahead in close-up and stops.)

Pinkie: (quiet, dramatic tone) And that’s when I knew I had to get back on with my journey to the Crystal Empire, the gateway to Yakyakistan. And so, here I am. It was a major adventure that took most of the afternoon.

(Zoom out. She instantly becomes all smiles again and addresses Cadence, who is standing next to her.)

Pinkie: Know what I mean?

Cadence: (pointing ahead) This is it.

(Cut to a narrow trail that winds its way up a steep slope and tilt down toward ground level.)

Cadence: (from o.s.) The northern boundary of the Crystal Empire. (now in view; Pinkie hops toward a lamppost marking the trail’s start) Beyond lies Yakyakistan. Nopony who’s attempted this climb has ever returned. Are you sure you have to do this?

Pinkie: I do. (She walks on.)

Cadence: Good luck, Pinkie Pie.

(She gazes ahead, concern written all over her face, as the earth pony begins to ascend. Dissolve to the exterior of Sugarcube Corner; Twilight opens one of Pinkie’s bedroom windows from inside, the camera zooming in on her.)

Twilight: How could she be so late to the party?

(Inside; her other four friends have arrayed themselves about the place: Applejack and Fluttershy on the bed, Rainbow hovering by the stairs leading up to the balcony, Rarity lying on the couch.)

Twilight: This isn’t like her!

Fluttershy: I’m sure she’s trying her best.

Rainbow: Pinkie Pie’s tougher than she looks. (Twilight paces.)

Twilight: I know you’re right, but…I wish she was here. I-I put too much pressure on her. (The others gather nearby.) I let everypony down, and Princess Celestia will be here any minute and see that I haven’t made new friends—I’ve made new enemies.

(Letting out a weary sigh, she leans her head against the staircase’s newel post, which is styled as an ice cream cone. The added force causes an internal mechanism to kick into gear; she backs fearfully away and watches part of the ice cream portion retract into itself. A large trapdoor then opens in the floor beneath the group, dumping them out of sight with a yell.)

(Dissolve to a slow pan across a mountain pass thickly blanketed with snow. The only sign of life is the very tip of Pinkie’s forelock, breaking the surface to mark her forward progress. At the sound of an echoing beast’s cry, the bit of magenta hair snaps straight and vertical and she pops her head up for a look around. Zoom out to show that she has stopped just outside the mouth of an ice-encrusted cave, from which the glowing points of two pinkish eyes glare out from the darkness inside. She addresses these.)

Pinkie: Hi! My name is Pinkie Pie. (Close-up.) I’m looking for Yakyakistan. You know, faraway land, lots of yaks. (Extreme close-up of the eyes; she continues o.s.) Maybe you’ve heard of it?

(A soft, menacing growl floats out from the cave, and the eyes’ owner lunges out into the light to roar at her. It is a broad, white-furred wolf-like creature with a patch of fiery orange fur swept back between its eyes and dark gray skin showing on face, paws, and partly exposed hind legs. The force of its roar leaves Pinkie’s mane badly disheveled, but does not mar her good spirits.)

Pinkie: (laughing) Whoa! Slow down! I can’t understand a word you’re saying.

(But the clawed swipe that takes off the end of her forelock is impossible to misunderstand. She stares fearfully up at the advancing monster, bounds out of her trench with a yelp, and peels out as it prepares to strike again. Within a few strides across the snow, her mane/tail are back to normal and the severed hair has grown out again; a look ahead gets her smiling anew.)

Pinkie: There it is!

(Her perspective, slowly ascending a rise to see the top of a wooden structure marked with torches.)

Pinkie: Yakyakistan!

(Now nearly at the top, she can see that structure as a pair of giant yak totems, each holding a torch and a shield and flanking an immense set of doors. Much closer to her, and facing the gate, is a sled on which a calf sits. Back to Pinkie; she tries desperately to stop, but momentum carries her onto the sled and sets it in motion. The horned helmet on the calf’s head ends up on hers.)

(Down the hill they go, Pinkie easing the helmet up for a clear field of view and the calf enjoying the whole ride. The entrance to Yakyakistan stands at the top of a high, snowy ridge, and the sled shoots straight up its vertical face and lands to embed its leading edge in the drifts at the top. The calf hops off and scurries to the gates, nudging one open and giving Pinkie a welcoming smile. As she returns it, cracks begin to spread in the snowpack around the sled and the section directly underneath it drops out of sight. Mare and sled hang in midair for a long moment before gravity returns from its coffee break, and she finds herself rocketing back the way she came at insanely high speed. The helmet falls away immediately, and the sled ends up turned 180 degrees to point its leading edge in her direction of travel. She, however, still faces backwards.)

Pinkie: NOOOOOOOO— (Past the beast that menaced her…) —OOOOOOOO— (…then Cadence, on her way back down the trail…) —OOOOOOOO— (…then Jubilee, carrying cherry baskets from her stagecoach and across a Manehattan street…) —OOOOOOOO— (…then the stopped train at Dodge City/Dodge Junction and the sheep responsible.) —OOOOOOOO—  

(The near miss with Cadence forces her to throw a wing protectively over her face, while the one with Jubilee dumps her onto her haunches and upsets the baskets on her back. After Pinkie flashes past the train, the view wipes to black. Twilight’s pained groan is followed by her eyes opening in the complete darkness.)

Twilight: Is everypony all right? (Fluttershy’s eyes open.)

Fluttershy: I can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed. (Rainbow’s move past, one squinting.)

Rainbow: I-I think I can see a little bit.

(As soon as she has moved o.s., a loud crash shakes the camera and forces the other two to squeeze their eyes shut.)

Rainbow: (from o.s., grunting) Nope.

(The lights snap on, presenting the blue pegasus fetched up against a file cabinet. Confetti and streamers litter the floor, as do a few folders, and containers of assorted merriment-related items stand nearby. She sits up onto her haunches and looks around, totally bewildered at the mirrored disco balls hanging from the ceiling…the wrapped presents sitting on a shelf…other file cabinets standing next to a cake and banners. A long shot of this entire room reveals that it is packed floor to ceiling with all manner of party-related equipment. The five mares stare at the sheer magnitude of this trove, which has a playground slide leading down to it—presumably the way they came in after falling through the trapdoor. Zoom out slowly.)

Twilight, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow, Rarity: (Rainbow hovering; others standing up) Oooooh!

(Applejack makes her way to an open cabinet drawer and begins to flip through its contents.)

Applejack: Look at these! (Fluttershy joins her…) Pinkie Pie’s made files for everypony in town! (and pulls one out to look through it.)

Fluttershy: With exactly what kind of parties we like.

Rainbow: (giddily) Pinkie Pie has a secret party-planning cave? How cool is this?

Fluttershy: (reading) “Twilight Sparkle likes vanilla ice cream…” (Twilight crosses to her for a look.) “…red balloons, dancing…” (This last puzzles Fluttershy a bit.)

Twilight: (laughing) That’s right!

Fluttershy: “…but she’s afraid of quesadillas.”

(That bit of information throws its subject for a loop.)

Twilight: (indignantly) No, I’m not! (unnerved, whispering) They’re just so… (Shudder.) …cheesy.

(She cringes at the admission and backs out of sight. Wipe to a quiet Ponyville street, which stops being quite so tranquil when Pinkie rockets into view on her sled, still facing backwards.)

Pinkie: —OOOOOOOO—  

(She slides toward the front door of Sugarcube Corner; cut to inside her bedroom as she hurtles through the doorway. The trick newel post has resumed its usual appearance, and the trapdoor has closed.)

Pinkie: —OOOOOOOO!!

(The sled catches on the rug, flipping her onto the bed; Gummy sits on the pillow.)

Pinkie: NOOO!! I’m all the way back where I started! (gesturing with a hoof) Gummy, I was this close to helping Twilight befriend the yaks. Now I’ve just let everypony down.

(The sound of muffled, indistinct conversation gets her attention; she drops to the floor and presses an ear to the rug, straining to make out any words.)

Pinkie: Hmm?

(Cut to inside the hidden party-supply room, the talk coming through much more clearly now as she comes down the slide.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) Looky here!

(The fun-loving mare takes cover behind some nearby balloons. Close-up of these, seen from her side; through one, the farmer can be seen holding up a document for Rarity’s inspection.)

Applejack: It’s notes for the party she wants to throw for her folks’ fiftieth anniversary.

(On the end of this, Pinkie stands up into view and nudges the balloons aside, showing Twilight looking at the page as well. The camera then cuts to Applejack.)

Applejack: But they ain’t nearly that old. (Another look.) Huh. She’s already plannin’ their one-hundredth, too…and their five-hundredth?

Twilight: I had no idea she worked so hard on her parties! (Rainbow hovers nearby on her back.)

Rainbow: (smugly) She may be more organized than you, Twilight. (Grin.)

Twilight: (laughing) Let’s not get carried away. (Cut to the five visitors; Fluttershy has put away the file on Twilight she was reading earlier.)

Rarity: I just wish Pinkie Pie were here so we could tell her how much we all appreciate her hard work.

(None of them notice a bunch of balloons slowly approaching from behind.)

Pinkie: (from “o.s.”, sobbing happily) Thank you! (Rarity steps aside as she lets them go, revealing herself sitting on her haunches.) Thank you! I love you too, all of you!

Twilight: You’re back! (Pinkie pops up and hugs her.)

Pinkie: I tried to go to Yakyakistan so I could bring something back for my party, but at the last second I made a mistake. (Sigh.) I worked harder on this party than any party ever, but I’m still just a big failure. (She slumps back to her haunches.)

Twilight: Pinkie Pie, you’re not a failure.

Fluttershy: What matters is how hard you tried. (Rainbow flies over.)

Rainbow: Who else would have gone all across Equestria to plan one party?

Pinkie: (smiling) You know, the trip was really hard. But everypony I met along the way was so helpful. (Rainbow flies up o.s.; zoom in slowly.) I just wish the yaks could see how friendly and wonderful and great Equestria really is!

(A ridiculously long gasp marks the pink pony’s latest brainchild.)

Pinkie: I just got the best party idea ever! (She jumps up to emphasize the point.)

Twilight: (glumly) It’s too late. The yaks left on the last train. (Pinkie leans over to her.)

Pinkie: Um, no, they didn’t. (Happy little squeal.) Trust me. (crossing to slide) There are a whole lotta sheep out there!

(Jumping onto the end and sitting on her haunches, she proceeds to slide right back up the incline—gravity taking five again, no doubt. Pan from here to the others.)

Fluttershy: So, um, do we walk back up the slide or…or what?

(Dissolve to a close-up of a very angry Rutherford menacing a train engineer.)

Rutherford: Yaks stuck HERE?!?

(Long shot: these two and Rutherford’s attendants are standing on the platform at the Ponyville station.)

Rutherford: Why trains not work? (Growl.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) I never thought I’d say this, but… (Cut to her and the gang by the tracks, Rainbow hovering.) …THANK YOU, SHEEP!! And now, if it’s okay with you… (Zoom in slightly on her.) …it’s party time!

(Now up on her hind legs, she whips out a pair of star-shaped sunglasses and puts them on. The yaks trade a round of confused grunts. From here, dissolve to a slow pan across a tract of land just outside Ponyville proper, now set up with a wide range of attractions: apple bobbing, snacks, Wonderbolt autograph table, and so on. The ponies present are having a grand time of it, as are the three yaks outside the Ponyville Spa. Rutherford tries a cupcake, enjoys it, and laughs; one of his attendants has donned a pair of silly sunglasses, while the other has traded his helmet for a giant pink cowboy hat. Applejack, Rainbow, Rarity, Bloom, and Princess Celestia are here with them, the filly playing with a ball. Pan slightly to frame Twilight looking on.)

Twilight: Wow, Pinkie! This came together quick! (Head-on view of her; Pinkie stands alongside, her shades gone.) Even for you!

Pinkie: What can I say? I’m good at what I do. (Cut to Rutherford; she continues o.s.) Prince Rutherford… (crossing to him) …every time we tried to make something in Equestria feel like Yakyakistan, we couldn’t get it right. When I got back from my adventure, I realized something. (Applejack/Fluttershy/Rainbow/Rarity gather in closer.) We shouldn’t try to make Equestria feel like your home, we should try to make you feel at home in Equestria. And that means showing you why we love it here—

(Cut to just behind Rutherford; he is watching Bon Bon put a flower in Lyra Heartstrings’ mane.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) —so you’ll love it too.

(The camera pans to follow his swiveling head and stops on Scootaloo, standing on her scooter and getting her crash helmet magically placed on her head by Sweetie Belle. The two fillies trade a high five. In close-up, a tear trickles out from thick fringe of fur over Rutherford’s eyes.)

Rutherford: (wiping eye) Pink pony work hard to make yaks feel at home. (Zoom out to frame all three.) Now yaks happy. No declare war.

(Twilight sighs, relieved, then shoots an uneasy glance over her shoulder toward an extremely worried Celestia—the news of possible hostilities has caught her very much off balance. The grin that splits the light violet face throws her for another loop.)

Rutherford: Ponies and yaks…friends?

Pinkie: For a thousand moons?

Rutherford: (rearing up) For a thousand moons! (Cheers all around; now Celestia smiles.)

Celestia: (to Twilight) I am very impressed, Princess.

Twilight: (chuckling) Just doing my best to spread friendship.

Celestia: And you did a wonderful job of it. You—  (Close-up of Pinkie; she continues o.s.) —and your friends. (A huge grin on the pink face.)

Rutherford: (from o.s.) Pink pony— (Cut to frame both; the rest disperse.) —you understand yaks now.

Pinkie: (rearing up) Aww, come here, you!

(She latches onto his flank, hugging as much of the shaggy bulk as she can reach. Getting a very funny look, she drops loose and pats the red-brown fur back into place; now he rises to his hind legs and sweeps her up in a crushing embrace.)

Pinkie: (strangled) Wow…too strong…okay, okay, okay!

(Fade to black.)


AMENDING FENCES

Written by M.A. Larson

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by M.A. Larson

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Directed by Jim Miller

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to Twilight Sparkle relaxing on a couch in a room of her castle, seated on her haunches and reading a book spread open before her. The night sky can be seen through a nearby window. Clattering dishes and running water are briefly heard in the distance; zoom out to frame an open doorway behind her, through which Spike walks in with a weary groan. He wears an apron, yellow rubber gloves, and a red kerchief tied across his forehead.)

Spike: You know the worst thing about you being the Princess of Friendship? The dishes. (He pulls one glove off and tosses it aside; close-up of her.)

Twilight: Thanks for taking care of that, Spike. (Zoom out; he shucks off the rest of his dishwashing gear.) After three events in one week, I really needed to relax with a good book.

(Climbing onto the couch, he pulls one of his own from behind a pillow.)

Spike: Well, it’s kinda funny, isn’t it?

(He settles down to read; cut to Twilight again.)

Spike: (from o.s.) All these ponies coming to you for advice about friendship. (Her smile fades at this, but she puts it back in place.)

Twilight: What’s funny about that? (She leaves the couch, floating her book along.)

Spike: (from o.s.) You know— (Back to him.) —’cause you used to be famous for being such a bad friend.

(Close-up of the volume being tucked in on a shelf, then zoom out on the start of the next line. She has stopped at a small bookcase near the door and is throwing a skeptical look back at her number-one assistant.)

Twilight: What are you talking about? (turning to face him) I-I had good friends in Canterlot.

Spike: (from o.s.) Come on, Twilight! Look at the wall.

(She does so; cut to the patch above the bookcase and pan slowly across. Hanging in the center is a large photo taken at her coronation, showing her at the heart of a six-way group hug from her friends. Spike stands in the foreground, one hand extending out of frame as if aiming a camera at the group to take the picture himself. It is surrounded by four smaller framed photos, one on the wall to either side and two propped up on the bookcase, that display various past experiences with her friends.)

Spike: (from o.s.) Do you see any photos from before we moved to Ponyville? (Zoom in on the big one.) And look at you now. The Princess of Friendship.

(Said Princess’s reflection appears in the glass, approaching slowly. She studies the image carefully for a silent moment, then pulls in a disbelieving gasp.)

Twilight: This is a disaster! (Back to her, pacing worriedly.) All my old friends—I can’t remember any of their names right now! (She zips into his face, losing her cool.) But do you really think that they think I’m a bad friend? (Close-up of him, eyes widening in fear.)

Spike: Well, I-I only meant that you’ve come so far. (stammering a bit) You’re a great friend now, and— (Zoom out to frame her.)

Twilight: Oh, I feel terrible! (His eyes pop.) I’ve gotta make it up to them! (galloping to doorway) Pack a bag, Spike! We’re going to Canterlot!

(Racing out of view down the hallway, she soon doubles back to put her head around the doorframe.)

Twilight: And make a list of my friends’ names?

(Off she goes again. Pan to Spike, who chooses this moment to roll his eyes and groan.)

Spike: Me and my big mouth.

(Fade to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of Canterlot under the starry night sky. Twilight loops into view, flying toward the magnificent city with Spike on her back; close-up of them. He is no longer carrying his book.)

Spike: Come on, Twilight. You’re getting worked up about nothing.

(Down she goes into a quick descent, landing in a grassy courtyard and letting him climb off.)

Twilight: The only logical place to start is at the beginning.

(On the end of this, the camera zooms out to frame what she is looking at: a tall white-and-gold tower not far off. Cut to within the darkened interior of its ground floor as the doors fly open, stirring up a cloud of dust. The silhouettes of pony and dragon advance into this space, whose condition—dropped book, dirt on the floor, frayed couch—indicates that it has not received proper upkeep for quite some time. As they move across the room, the camera backs up slowly to keep them centered in frame and the light comes up on them.)

Twilight: (climbing a flight of stairs) Whoa. It’s exactly how we left it!

(This, then, served as their living quarters until they were dispatched to Ponyville in “Mare in the Moon.” Close-up of a book resting open on a stand, a thick layer of dust covering the exposed pages. When she steps into view and blows, the particulates dissipate to give her a clear view. It is the book she consulted in that episode, still open to the page showing Nightmare Moon’s silhouette framed by a crescent moon and the four stars that were prophesied to help her escape the lunar prison. Its presence indicates that Twilight is now on the tower’s top floor, which served as her personal library during her studies in Canterlot. She brightens upon recognizing the illustration.)

Twilight: Look! It’s Predictions and Prophecies! And it’s still open to the Elements of Harmony!

(Elsewhere, among the cobwebs, scattered literature, and other evidence of disrepair, Spike has found a crumpled gift box and a beat-up teddy bear on the floor. Close-up of the latter item on the start of the next line as he picks it up, then back to him.)

Spike: And here’s that present I was gonna give Moondancer! (tossing it aside) Eh, guess she won’t be needing that.

(Recall that he had planned to take it to the party Moondancer was throwing in “Mare in the Moon,” until he accidentally speared it on his tail when Twilight opened the balcony door into his face. His eyes widen in surprise again, and he picks up a scrap of the box and looks inside.)

Spike: Hey, look! The rest of it’s still here!

(Twilight crosses the floor behind him, mouth hanging open in combined sadness and shock, and approaches the floor-to-ceiling window.)

Twilight: (echoing slightly) How could I have let this happen?

(Cut to a close-up of the glass, reflecting all of Canterlot proper—the camera is now just outside the window—and zoom in. The image fades as Twilight walks up to stare out dejectedly, soon joined by Spike; he has put down the ruined box.)

Spike: (muffled by glass) Come on, Twilight. Princess Celestia gave you an assignment. Nopony could blame you for that. (Inside again.)

Twilight: (echoing) But look at the way I left this place! It’s a total mess!

(Close-up; she rests her head and one front hoof against the window.)

Twilight: (softly; no echo) Just like how I left my friendships. (resolutely; head up) I’ve gotta make it up to…

(Words fail her, and her ears droop as she throws an embarrassed “help me out here” grin to Spike.)

Spike: (counting on fingers) Oh! Uh, Minuette, Twinkleshine, Lemon Hearts, Lyra Heartstrings, and Moondancer. (Tilt up slowly.)

Twilight: (turning to window, smiling fiercely) Yeah. Them.

(The tilt continues until both are nearly out of frame, leaving a stretch of night sky visible, and the view then dissolves to a long shot of the tower exterior. It is now the following morning, and Spike’s snoring comes through loud and clear. Cut to a close-up of him, sleeping soundly atop a book and with another one spread open on his head.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Spike! (He cracks one eye open.) Come on! We’ve got work to do!

(A groan, a full-body stretch, and the camera zooms out to the clatter of her hooves. The baby dragon has been sleeping on a tall stack of books, but she is up and ready to go, floating a scroll out of the saddlebags she is now wearing and onto a desk.)

Spike: Have you been awake all night?

Twilight: (unrolling scroll) I did a little research, and I think I know where we can find Minuette. (Pause.) That is one of my friends, right?

(He just gives her a “you’ve got to be kidding me” look. Dissolve to a close-up of a large hourglass mounted between two similarly shaped windows on the upper story of a house. Each window frame has an hourglass carved into its upper portion as well. There is a knock from o.s., and the camera zooms out and tilts down to ground level. The motif continues down here, not only on the windows, but also in the shape of the door and the window in its center. Shades of blue dominate in the overall décor. Twilight and Spike stand on the front stoop, the former having delivered the knock and disposed of her saddlebags.)

Spike: (smiling stupidly) Uh, it’s not too late to forget I opened my big mouth.

Twilight: No, Spike, I’m glad you opened your big mouth! These ponies have probably been suffering ever since I left, wondering why their supposed friend would treat them so badly!

(The door creaks open, swinging a few inches inward on its hinges, and she peers anxiously toward the gap. Mild disarray can be seen beyond, including a patch of cobwebs at the ceiling.)

Twilight: Minuette?

(The blue unicorn in question zips out and onto the stoop in a fraction of a blink, all smiles and perkiness. Her voice sounds as if she is constantly on the edge of a fit of the giggles, and she lets one slip through now and then.)

Minuette: Twilight Sparkle! (backing her down the stoop) You old so-and-so! What are you doing here? Hey, Spike! (He smiles and waves; she eyes Twilight’s wings closely in close-up.) Look at these wings, huh? (to the o.s. Spike, warming up horn) Hey.

(Back to the dragon, who finds a camera being levitated out of the house and into his grip, knocking him to his rump.)

Minuette: (from o.s.) Grab a picture of me and the Princess, will you? (Back to her and Twilight, the latter now a bit unnerved.) I tried to tell my coworkers we used to be friends back when, but they’ve never believed me.

(Shrugging helplessly, Spike hefts the camera; cut to his perspective through the viewfinder, focusing in on the two mares. They settle onto their haunches, Twilight smiling and Minuette grinning from ear to ear; after a second, the unicorn breaks her pose.)

Minuette: Wait-wait-wait. (spreading forelegs wide) Really fluff ’em up, huh?

(Twilight complies by spreading her wings. As the camera warms up, Minuette puts herself in front of the Princess with forelegs spread again; the latter is a bit thrown off, but gets a humoring little grin in place before the camera flash whites out the screen. Fade in to a close-up of Minuette.)

Minuette: So what are you doing here? I mean, I know you’re here all the time, but you never come to see me.

(Grin; then cut to frame all three. The front door is now closed, and Spike has put away the camera.)

Minuette:  Hey! I just had the greatest idea! (circling around Twilight; she stands as Spike comes down from the stoop) You want to go see Lemon Hearts and Twinkleshine?

Twilight: Of course! My old friends!

Minuette: It’ll be great! (hopping away) Come on, let’s fly! Get it? (She settles into a giggly trot, the others following at a slower pace.)

Twilight: (to Spike) This is perfect! I can apologize to all three of them at once!

Spike: (sardonically) Let’s hope they’re not as traumatized as Minuette.

(Cut to the exterior of a shop, seen from across the street. A large, ornately decorated donut is mounted on the ledge that runs underneath the second-story windows. Zoom in slowly and cut to a slow pan across the interior, passing a stallion and mare enjoying a couple of sinkers at a table. The sound of mares’ giggling asserts itself well before the camera stops on a table at which four customers sit on stools—Twilight and Minuette, now joined by Lemon Hearts and Twinkleshine.)

Minuette: She did! (floating up a donut chunk) Twinkleshine literally spit out her oats when she heard you were the Princess of Friendship. (She eats.)

Twinkleshine: We saw you at the coronation. That was some shindig.

(Cut to Twilight on the end of this. She is so caught out by this statement that she forgets to take a bite of the pastry held in her aura.)

Twilight: You did? (Lemon eats hers.)

Twinkleshine: Sure! Oh, we see you all the time.

Minuette: You remember our old friend Lyra, right? She lives in Ponyville too. We’re always over there visiting her, or she’s coming over here. (floating a donut up) We’ve thought about asking you to join us from time to time, but we just sort of figured you’d moved on.

(She magically breaks it in half on these last three words, then eats one piece as Twilight hangs her head. Concerned looks from across the table. The camera is now angled such that one entire back corner of the shop is in view, as is its proprietor behind the counter—Pony Joe, later Donut Joe. Spike has taken a seat back here to talk with him.)

Twilight: Oh. (Long pause, broken when Lemon clears her throat.)

Lemon: So what brings you by, anyway? All those times you’ve come back to Canterlot, you’ve never had donuts with us before.

Twilight: Well, uh, you see…

(Pausing for a deep breath, she continues in a quiet voice.)

Twilight: …I came to apologize.

(Minuette is first to respond, swallowing her mouthful and speaking up in her bubbly way.)

Minuette: For what? (Zoom in slowly on Twilight.)

Twilight: Before I left Canterlot, I-I didn’t really appreciate my friends. And that’s because I didn’t know how important friendship was. But I’ve learned so much since I moved to Ponyville. (smiling briefly) I learned what it means to be a good friend, and that I certainly wasn’t one to the three of you. So for all the pain I caused you, I am truly sorry.

(Her sad, soulful gaze is met with silent disbelief from the three unicorns—which is in turn followed by a hearty round of giggles on their part.)

Minuette: Oh, come on, Twilight! Sure, it might’ve stung a little bit when you ran off to Ponyville without saying goodbye— (Close-up of Twilight; she continues o.s.) —but it’s not like we weren’t used to that from you. (All four again.)

Twinkleshine: Yeah, we didn’t take it personally. (Twilight smiles.)

Lemon: But it’s really good to see you now. (An idea hits.) Hey! Anypony up for a blast from the past?

(Smiles of varying intensity pass between the four faces. Dissolve to a long shot of an imposing building and zoom in slowly on the old friends and Spike they approach the front entrance. Head-on view of the five; Twilight takes a few more wondering steps ahead of the others, who have stopped, and draws a happy gasp. A cut to behind her shows that she is approaching one of the ground-floor windows.)

Twilight: It’s our old science lab!

(She rests her forelegs on the sill; cut to just inside, framing her and Spike as he climbs up for a look of his own. The next two lines are muffled by the glass.)

Twilight: I have so many great memories of this place!

Minuette: Remember when Lemon Hearts got her head stuck in that beaker?

(Her giggle is met by one from Twinkleshine, but Lemon just grimaces at the mention of the incident. Twilight, meanwhile, lets her face shift from joy to regret to determined concentration. Zoom out into the darkened area, revealing it as a classroom for foals: desks and benches; long counter with globe, books, and storage drawers; teacher’s desk, chalkboard, and easel at the front; pieces of student art strung across the wall. In time with the zoom, the room lights come up and laughing, chattering fillies and their teacher fade into view. Some are reading, some drawing, some talking, and here comes Lemon’s filly self at a full gallop, her entire head stuffed into a long-necked, conical glass flask. The young Minuette and Twinkleshine are hot on her heels; none of the three have their cutie marks at this point in their past.)

(The chase takes them past a table at which two others are seated side by side, reading intently. A few glasses, a measuring cup, and a bowl filled with material are laid out before them. Enough of the mane and horn/hooves/ears of the one on the left are visible to indicate young Twilight’s presence, but the one on the right is a mystery. Unicorn, straight red mane with two streaks in different shades of purple; cream-colored coat. Since Filly TS is here, this flashback scene can only be taking place at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, to which she described gaining acceptance in “The Cutie Mark Chronicles.” In close-up, Filly TS lowers her book.)

Filly TS: But according to this book, you’re supposed to add the sodium chloride first.

(Pan to the other, whose book comes down to expose her as a filly with dark purple eyes. This is the young Moondancer.)

Filly MD: I read ahead, and to make a proper salt lick, you need to add the molasses first. (Back to Filly TS.)

Filly TS: Well, I read ahead too, Moondancer, and I’m sure it said sodium chloride first. (Cut to frame both; Filly MD’s face falls.)

Filly MD: Oh. I’ve got the wrong book. That’s so hilarious.

(They bury themselves in their reading as Filly LH charges past behind them, again chased by Filly MI and Filly TW. Tilt up from here to the window; the lights dim, the laughter fades away, and Twilight and Spike stare through the window as Lemon/Minuette/Twinkleshine laugh to themselves. The next two lines are muffled by the glass.)

Twilight: Whatever happened to Moondancer? (Spike drops out of sight.)

Lemon: Moondancer? (Cut to outside the window.)

Twilight: Yeah, you know. (She takes her forelegs off the sill.) Our other friend.

Twinkleshine: Ohhh, right, Moondancer! I remember her!

Lemon: I wonder what she’s up to. (Twilight steps toward them.)

Minuette: Yeah. I always liked her. We just sort of lost touch after you left.

Twinkleshine: I think she went to live out by the stadium, didn’t she?

Lemon: (walking off) Well, let’s go see.

(Twilight pivots to follow her. Dissolve to the five coming up to the front walk of a small stone cottage whose thatched roof is probably one hard wind away from caving in altogether, a sharp contrast to the opulent architecture on this street. The yard is no better, with a bare, gnarled tree trunk, weeds growing wild, and moss spreading over the low stone wall that faces the street. The front door is painted purple and set with a crescent-moon window. Lemon and Twinkleshine walk point, followed by Minuette, and Twilight and Spike bring up the rear. The blue unicorn stops to address the out-of-towners.)

Minuette: I think this is the place. (walking on) Didn’t used to look like this, though.

(Twilight and Spike pause at the start of the walk to trade a worried look, then step up to the door. One light violet hoof raps against the wood; after a few seconds with no response, she tries again and accidentally knocks a hole clean through. An open book on a stand is visible within, and Twilight leans down for a closer look. She gets a very big surprise in the form of a dark purple eye glaring back at her, behind one lens of a pair of eyeglasses whose bridge has been broken and taped back together. The skin around the eye is cream-colored.)

(Twilight straightens up with a sharp gasp, and the door creaks open to expose books stacked everywhere in the poorly lit interior. Standing in the dimness, partly hidden by both it and the half-open door, is the bespectacled pony—unicorn, dark sweater, very unfriendly expression. Twilight steps a bit closer with a hopeful smile.)

Twilight: Moondancer?

(The shadowed figure emerges fully into the doorway. The coat/eye/mane colors are indeed a match for Moondancer, but the mane hair on top of her head is now clipped back in a short pigtail, with a few wayward strands popping loose. The sweater is a bulky, dark blue-gray turtleneck with light pink buttons, and heavy red brows have grown in above the eyes. Impatience is ingrained into every syllable off her tongue.)

Moondancer: What do you want? I’m trying to study. (All five visitors gather on the step, Spike on Minuette’s back, a pastel background appearing behind them.)

Twilight: It’s us! Your old friends!

(Moondancer responds with a loud groan and a slam of the door, causing the quintet’s collective good spirits—and the pastels—to drain away with alarming speed. Minuette somehow manages a chuckle; close-up of her.)

Minuette: That’s old Moondancer, all right. She always did like her books. (to Twilight) Hey, kinda like you used to be, huh?

(On the end of this, pan to frame Twilight’s deeply concerned visage.)

Twilight: Exactly how I used to be.

(Zoom in slowly and snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to Moondancer walking along a sidewalk, toting saddlebags stuffed to bursting with books. She turns off toward a particular building, its broad front steps flanked by a unicorn-mare statue on either side, as the camera zooms out to the opposite side of the street. This motion frames a panel above the entrance that displays an open book—this is a library. A café’s outdoor table comes into view; cut to a head-on view of it. Twilight, Minuette, and Spike are seated here and hiding behind menus, two held up by magic and one by clawed hands, to carry out surveillance on the mare. The menus are lowered one by one in this same order, Spike simply folding his up and setting it on the table with an impatient sigh. Twilight wears sunglasses with little suns attached to the temples, while Minuette sports a pair with louvered lenses, a palm tree on one temple, and a parrot on the other.)

Spike: Come on, Twilight. We’ve been watching her for three days! (Twilight’s menu up.) Library, house. Library, house. That’s it!

Twilight: (lowering menu, propping shades on horn; Minuette has her menu up again) Nopony looks at her, or-or says hello, or even gives her a smile. It’s like she doesn’t even exist. (to Minuette) Was she always like this? (Menu down.)

Minuette: Well, she always was a little shy. But for a while there, she was really starting to come out of her shell. Remember when she threw that party?

(The winged unicorn can only manage a blushing grin and helpless shrug.)

Minuette: Oh, right. I think you might have been busy that day.

(Wavering dissolve to the beginning of Act One, “Mare in the Moon”: Twilight walking up over a hill toward the camera with loaded saddlebags on her back. Lemon and Twinkleshine step into partly into view in front of her.)

Twinkleshine: There you are, Twilight!

(Cut to frame Minuette with these two; all three have presents on their backs.)

Twinkleshine: Moondancer is having a little get-together in the west castle courtyard. You want to come? (Twilight recoils a bit from them.)

Twilight: Oh, sorry, girls. (eyeing her bags) I got a lot of studying to catch up on.

(She gives the trio a big grin and gallops off. A wavering dissolve shifts the action back to the present time, a close-up of a dumbstruck Twilight. Zoom out slowly to frame Minuette and Spike.)

Minuette: Thought she might finally be letting her guard down a little with that party. We invited her out a few times after that, but she was always too busy studying. (raising menu) So eventually we just stopped asking.

Twilight: I had no idea that party was so important to her.

(Finding a burst of new resolve, she leans out over the table and floats her sunglasses away.)

Twilight: I’ve gotta find a way to make it up to her.

(Cut to the interior of the library, the camera pointing up at the uppermost level and the great glass-domed ceiling that tops it. Two banners are hung here, one each styled after the sunrise and the night sky, and two of the columns are topped with seated unicorn-mare statues, each holding a trumpet that flies a banner showing an open book. Tilt down to ground level; there are three floors altogether, and the dome stands over a broad rotunda—circulation desk, central dais, reading tables and lamps. Several ponies, including Moondancer, are taking advantage of the facilities, with only the twinkle of unicorn auras to break the silence. She has shed her saddlebags.)

(One door swings open under magic control, and Twilight walks in and closes it solidly behind herself. A glance around the rotunda shows Moondancer’s presence, and she smiles and lets her mind work a bit. As the unkempt unicorn reads and takes notes, Twilight walks past behind her and stops short with a gasp.)

Twilight: (pretending to be surprised) Oh, my gosh! (Moondancer lets her quill drop.) Moondancer? Is that— (Zoom out quickly to frame the whole rotunda.)

Library patrons: Shhhh!

(The Princess bails out in a violet blur. Dissolve to a close-up of Moondancer, once again deep in her books, as Twilight peeks up alongside her over the table’s edge. Her horn is glowing, and the next six lines take on a reverberating quality.)

Twilight: Moondancer, can I talk to you for a min—

Moondancer: Shhhh!

(She looks around herself with a measure of irritation, but her counterpart just props her chin on a hoof and smiles smugly. Zoom out quickly to show that Twilight has erected a hemispherical field big enough to contain them and the table.)

Moondancer: What is this?

Twilight: Eh, a bubble of silence. I haven’t seen you in a while, and I thought it might be nice to catch up.

Moondancer: (hunkering down over book) For what purpose? (Twilight thinks fast.)

Twilight: You know, ’cause we’re friends.        

(Without a word, Moondancer fires a beam from her horn, straight up into the bubble, and bursts it as the camera zooms out to frame the whole rotunda.)

Library patrons: Shhhh!

(The studious unicorn gives Twilight a “shut it” glare as the latter’s jaw hangs open in pure shock, then goes back to her reading. Dissolve to a close-up of Moondancer walking down one aisle and stopping to retrieve a certain book from the shelves with her magic. Her cutie mark can now be clearly seen for the first time: a dark purple crescent moon surrounded by three lighter purple stars. As the book floats free, Twilight’s smiling face is revealed, peeking through the gap from behind.)

Twilight: I’m really sorry to bother you. (Her perspective of an unimpressed Moondancer.) I was just hoping we could go outside and talk for a bit.

(The bored look shifts to a scowl on the end of this, and the borrowed tome starts to move toward the camera again. Cut to frame both as she rams it home, hiding Twilight from sight. Moondancer turns and walks off, while the spurned mare steps out from the end of the next aisle back to stare worriedly after her.)

(A dissolve frames Moondancer in close-up, poring over her choice of literature and magically flipping a page. In close-up, this proves to have a simple drawing of Twilight, which turns its head to look up from the paper and speaks in her voice. The next nine lines are delivered in whispers.)

Drawing TS: I’m sorry I skipped your party.

(Moondancer voices a short, terrified scream and slams the book shut with her hoof.)

Library patrons: Shhhh!/Quiet! (Moondancer groans softly.)

Moondancer: (to book) Why won’t you leave me alone? I’m trying to study! (magically opening it) You’ve got the wrong pony. I don’t have parties!

(She has stopped on the page with Drawing TS; zoom in on this.)

Drawing TS: You did once, and I was so caught up in my own studying that I didn’t take your feelings into account.

Moondancer: Look, Twilight Twinkle.

Drawing TS: Sparkle.

Moondancer: Whatever. (adjusting glasses) I just need to be alone so I can study without some crazy pony trying to make friends! All right? (Close-up of the page.)

Drawing TS: Fine! (She walks off…)

Moondancer: (from o.s.) Wait. (…then stops; back to the now-flabbergasted unicorn.) How did you get into my book like that?

(The pen-and-ink Princess shoots her a cocked-eyebrow “gotcha” smile. Dissolve to a slow pan through an expanse of grassy courtyard that stands among the towers of Canterlot Castle. On the start of the next line, the movement brings Twilight and Moondancer into view, crossing a bridge.)

Twilight: I’ve been studying a new studying technique. I can only do it for a few minutes— (Head-on close-up of the pair.) —but you’d be amazed how much you can pick up when you’re actually in a book!

Moondancer: (impressed) That’s one of Haycart’s methods.

Twilight: You know Haycart?

Moondancer: Of course. He’s a genius.

Twilight: I have a copy of his Treatise on Ponies, you know.

(This brings Moondancer up short with a soft gasp, but she soon starts after Twilight again. Dissolve to the upper reaches of the winged unicorn’s former domicile and tilt down from the packed bookshelves to frame both mares in the center of the place.)

Moondancer: (crossing floor, awestruck) What is this place? (Close-up of her, stopping at one bookcase.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) This is where I used to live.

(The camera shifts to point out over one shelf, framing both.)

Twilight: You mean I never had you over?

Moondancer: (smiling, floating one book up) Wow! A first edition of Principles of Magic! (She glances back over her shoulder.) Hey. Didn’t I give this to you?

Twilight: (grimacing) Maybe?

(Back to the bibliophile, who rests it on a nearby stack and opens the cover with her magic.)

Moondancer: I did! Look, I even wrote something! (reading) “To my friend Twilight Sparkle. Thanks for introducing me to the classics.” (very snarky) I can see by the fact that you left it here that it meant a lot to you. (Slam it shut; float it back onto the shelf.)

Twilight: (crossing to her) Look, I-I didn’t bring you over here for even more poignant reminders of what a bad friend I was. (floating up a key) I brought you here to give you this.

(The head is shaped like an hourglass.)

Twilight: You can come here whenever you want, and study to your heart’s content.

Moondancer: Really? (Close-up of her, taking the key in her magic with a smile.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) But first— (Moondancer adjusts her glasses the same way; smile fades.) —you’ve gotta do something for me.

Moondancer: (suspiciously) What? (Cut to frame both.)

Twilight: Have dinner with our old friends tonight.

Moondancer: I can’t. (letting key drop, turning to shelves) I’m reorganizing my biology scrolls.

Twilight: (crossing to her, touching her haunch) I’ve been spending a lot of time with Minuette, Twinkleshine, and Lemon Hearts since I’ve been back. They really miss you. (Moondancer swats the hoof away.)

Moondancer: Look, I already told you. (crossing floor) The last thing I need is a bunch of ridiculous friend-making keeping me from studying!

(Twilight’s brain locks solid for a moment before she can figure out how to reply.)

Twilight: Moondancer, wait! (Moondancer heads down the stairs; Twilight hurries to the edge of the floor.) A wise pony once taught me that there’s more to life than dusty old books!

(She is recalling one of the messages Celestia sent to her in “Mare in the Moon.” Cut to Moondancer, now reaching the bottom of the stairs and on her way toward the exit.)

Moondancer: I tried friendship, and it’s just not for me. Now if you’ll excuse me…

(Back up top, Twilight thinks fast, tapping a hoof against her forehead as if trying to jolt her brain into gear. A shrewd smile works its way across her face.)

Twilight: What if I taught you Haycart’s method?

(Moondancer opens one of the double doors with her field, but stops short of the threshold and lets the spell fade away. The questioning look that she sends back up the stairs tells it all—Twilight has her right where she wants her. Dissolve to an overhead shot of the exterior of a broad, curving building and zoom in slowly. Night has fallen, and lights glow from the lampposts and windows.)

Minuette: (from inside) So, uh…

(Cut to the five ponies and Spike seated in chairs around a table inside. This is a restaurant, and a fairly busy one at that; plates are seen in front of all but Spike. He sits with his back to the camera, his head blocking a clear view of his place setting, and something white can be seen tied around his neck. Zoom in slowly. Minuette has disposed of the louvered sunglasses she used at the start of this act.)

Minuette: …what are you studying these days?

Moondancer: Science, magic, history, economics, pottery, things like that.

Minuette: Yowza! You planning on being a professor or something?

Moondancer: No.

Minuette: So you’re just…studying.

Moondancer: Can I go now?

Twilight: Moondancer, please.

Minuette: It’s all right, Twilight. We’re having a good time. Right, everypony?

(Across the table, Lemon can only manage a weak chuckle, Twinkleshine a grunt and shrug.)

Minuette: So, uh… (smiling again) …Spike! Tell Moondancer that story about how Twilight had to read a book about doing the sleepover.

(A reference to “Look Before You Sleep.” Close-up of him on the end of this line, framing the full plate of food in front of him. The thing around his neck is a bib, just as splattered as his cheeks. He dabs at his mouth with a napkin and takes a breath to begin, but Moondancer’s voice wipes out the momentum before he can start.)

Moondancer: (from o.s.) Slumber 101? (Cut to her.) I’ve read that. (Zoom out to frame Twilight.)

Twilight: Oh! (Chuckle.) Really! Well, uh, did you know— (Pan to Lemon/Twinkleshine; she continues o.s.) —Lemon Hearts here works at the Canterlot Palace?

[Continuity error: The structure has been named as Canterlot Castle ever since “Sweet and Elite.”]

Lemon: Uh, yeah, it’s true. I do the big events, mostly—state dinners, that sort of thing.

(The conversation hits a brick wall right about now, with nothing but a few weak chuckles and murmurs. Moondancer breaks the impasse with a groan, leaving her seat and trotting away from the table. Twilight chews her lower lip fearfully and puts a hoof to her mouth, seeing that this chance to set things right is going down the tubes. Cut to an overhead shot of Moondancer crossing the street outside the restaurant; Twilight teleports out onto the sidewalk in front of the entrance.)

Twilight: Moondancer!

(Street level; another such transport places her directly in the unicorn’s path so she can put a hoof to the sweater-covered chest.)

Twilight: You’ve gotta give friendship a chance! (Moondancer levitates her away with a groan.)

Moondancer: (walking on) I gave friendship a chance a long time ago! It didn’t work out then— (Spike catches up to Twilight, having ditched his bib and cleaned his face.) —it isn’t gonna work out now!

(Head-on view of one crushed Princess and her top assistant, zooming out slowly.)

Spike: Twilight, are you all right? (Tears well up in her eyes.)

Twilight: (walking away) No. No, I’m not.

(The reptilian green eyes can only stare after her with mixed helplessness and compassion. Cut to her, trudging along a path through a courtyard; he hurries to catch up.)

Spike: Well, where are you going? (Both stop.)

Twilight: I don’t know, Spike. I really messed this one up. (Zoom out slowly.) That party was everything to her. I can only imagine what it must have felt like when I didn’t show up.

(A hemispherical piece of turf, directly in front of her and touched by the moon’s rays, brightens until the light within is at daytime level. Streamers and balloons fade into view, as do a couple of tables, one holding a punchbowl, one very long and set out with cakes and sweets. This is the party that Twilight blew off at the start of “Mare in the Moon.” Moondancer stands behind the latter, wearing her glasses but not the heavy sweater, and her mane/tail are neatly brushed and hanging free rather than clipped back. Cut to just behind Twilight and zoom in on the lighted area until she is out of view. As Moondancer waves, Lemon and Twinkleshine approach from one side, Minuette from the other, all carrying their presents on their backs.)

Minuette: Hey, Moondancer! Look at this spread, huh? (Close-up of Moondancer.)

Moondancer: Thank you so much for coming.

Twinkleshine: (from o.s.) Of course.

(Cut to her and Lemon’s end. The white unicorn has already set her present on the table, and the yellow one floats hers over to rest alongside it.)

Twinkleshine: We wouldn’t miss one of our best friend’s parties.

Moondancer: Is Twilight coming?

(She looks expectantly around the area, but Minuette’s face falls and all three do a suddenly good job of not making eye contact. Moondancer gets the message after a few tense seconds, her eyes dropping.)

Moondancer: Oh. Okay.

Minuette: (brightly) Hey! We’ll still have fun, right?

Moondancer: Sure.

(She trudges away from the snack table, the camera zooming out from this flashback to frame Twilight watching as it fades away.)

Twilight: If there was only a way to undo the damage.

(A moment’s hard thought brings her around to a fierce smile and a spread of her wings.)

Twilight: I know what I need to do— (Zoom in slowly.) —and I know just who can help me.

(Snap to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to the balcony of Twilight’s old tower, a riot of overgrown vines dripping from the railing. It is now the following morning. Zoom in slowly as Minuette climbs the stairs leading up here and knocks at the door, then cut to a close-up as she tries again. After this second knock yields no answer, she cups a hoof to one ear and leans a bit closer to listen in—still nothing.)

Minuette: Huh. Guess they must’ve gone back to Ponyville.

(She turns away from the door, the camera cutting to an overhead shot of her.)

Pinkie Pie: (from o.s.) Wheeeeee! (Minuette stops short, staring skyward.)

Minuette: (under previous line) Huh?

(Even before Pinkie can finish her joyous exclamation, the camera cuts to her riding on the back of a frantically flying Twilight. Spike is hanging on to the Princess’s tail for dear life. Pinkie giggles her way through the world’s sloppiest loop-the-loop, which brings the airborne threesome into a dive toward the balcony. Merriment gives way to sounds of panic as they collide with Minuette, sweeping her off the balcony and coming down for a very hard wipeout in the grass. Almost instantly, Pinkie comes up onto her haunches with a big smile.)

Pinkie: (jumping up) That was awesome!

(She gets her tail spinning like a helicopter propeller to hover just above the others.)

Pinkie: We gotta go flying more often, Twilight! (She cruises away; Twilight stands up.)

Minuette: (to her) There you are! I thought you threw in the old towel and headed home.

(A crash from o.s. is heard under these words, suggesting that the pink goofball might need to take some piloting lessons.)

Twilight: I did head home, but not to throw in the towel. (smiling knowingly) I went to get my secret weapon.

(Minuette gets to her hooves as Pinkie hops back to them.)

Twilight: Minuette, meet—

Minuette: Hey, Pinkie Pie!

Pinkie: Hi, Minuette! (They embrace briefly; Pinkie then starts hopping in place.) Twilight, you didn’t say Minuette would be here.

Twilight: You two know each other? (Pinkie zips over to her.)

Pinkie: Oh, sure. She was one of Cadence’s bridesmaids. We hang out all the time when she’s in Ponyville. Didn’t you know that? Ha! (nudging Twilight’s chest) And you call yourself the Princess of Friendship.

(A reference to the events of “A Canterlot Wedding,” in which Lyra Heartstrings, Minuette, and Twinkleshine got the nod. Twilight manages a slightly bashful smile as Pinkie whips back across to the blue unicorn.)

Pinkie: (rapid fire) Twilight briefed me on the way here. We’ll need fifteen bags of confetti and as many hooves as we can get.

Minuette: (rearing up) Let’s go! (trotting off with her, fading out) We can pass by the donut place on the way!

(Cut to a slightly bemused Twilight and Spike on the end of this.)

Spike: And what are we gonna do?

Twilight: (smiling determinedly) Just come with me.

(She trots off and he falls in behind her, catching her mood. Dissolve to the open-book panel mounted above the entrance to the library and tilt down to frame the emerging Moondancer in an overhead shot, full saddlebags slung onto her back. A couple of books are lying loose at the top of the steps; she stops short upon noticing these, and the camera cuts to a close-up of her, then of one book.)

Moondancer: (from o.s.) Ooooh! (leaning down to it, reading title) A Brief History of the Wagon Harness!

(It is promptly levitated up, but instead of shifting it to her bags, she looks o.s. wonderingly.)

Moondancer: Huh?

(Pan to a close-up of the second book, then cut to her stepping closer and floating it up.)

Moondancer: (reading) The Life and Times of Morari the Maneless?

(Her smile at finding these two treasures changes to a look of great puzzlement. Cut to just behind her and tilt up slightly to reveal several more volumes laid out in a trail that leads down the steps and along the street to disappear around a corner. Slowly, cautiously, she descends the flight and begins to follow the course, magically lifting each book and forming a stack that hovers just above her back. Dissolve to a close-up of one lying on a path that passes among the towers. Moondancer emerges into view over a rise, walking toward the camera with all the others in a tall double stack; upon glancing ahead, she gasps sharply and her cargo goes flying everywhere as her bags slide off.)

(A cut to behind her and a slow zoom out reveal the cause of her surprise. A party has been set up in the courtyard immediately before her, very similar to the one at which Twilight stood her up. Balloons, streamers, piñata, tables with punch and snacks, even a bright pink mirrored disco ball hanging from the archway directly over Moondancer’s head. Close-up of her.)

Moondancer: (magically adjusting glasses) What is this? (Twilight slips up behind her, wearing a starry party hat.)

Twilight: It’s a party—for you.

(They are quickly joined by Lemon/Minuette/Twinkleshine, and Spike wheels in a layer cake on a dolly. All four wear hats of their own. The cake stands nearly twice Spike’s height and is studded with candles, and its uppermost portion disintegrates into mush as Pinkie springs up and out, wearing a hat.)

Pinkie: SURPRIIIIISE!!  

(She plunks one onto Moondancer’s head as she lands, and follows up with by shoving a noisemaker into the recluse’s mouth.)

Twilight: Come on in! (Moondancer spits its away crossly.)

Moondancer: Uh, thanks, but no thanks. (floating hat off her head) I don’t do parties.

(Another shot of magic crumples up the conical headwear and drops it to the grass. She walks away, not seeing Twilight’s worried look or Pinkie’s smile; the winged unicorn teleports into her path, her own hat falling off.)

Twilight: I know. And I think it’s my fault. Back when we were in school together, you invited me to a party. I-I was so focused on my studies that I didn’t show up.

Moondancer: Big deal.

Twilight: It was a big deal. (pacing around her) And now that I realize how important friendship is— (hoof across her shoulders) —I’d like to make up for my mistake with a new party.

(She gestures off to one side, the camera panning quickly in that direction to frame the party setup.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) A party in honor of my friend Moondancer! (Cut back to the two, now face to face.) Please, you’ve got to let me make this up to you.

(On this last sentence, she floats over a slim wooden club—intended for use on the piñata. At her inviting gesture and smile, Moondancer takes hold of it in her field and starts across the meadow, her sour mood not changing a particle.)

Moondancer: And you think this is gonna do it, huh?

Twilight: (uneasily) Uh…yes? (Moondancer stops at the piñata.)

Moondancer: Well, sure, why wouldn’t it? (Smack; her bitterness grows.) That was only the first time I ever put myself out there— (pointing club at Twilight) —and then you didn’t even bother to show up! Then you left town without saying goodbye, even though we were supposed to be friends. (voice breaking) I was humiliated! I felt like I wasn’t important! I never wanted to let myself be hurt like that again!

(She sends the club over Twilight’s head to point at Lemon/Minuette/Twinkleshine, the camera panning to follow it and put her o.s.)

Moondancer: (from o.s.) Those three finally convinced me that I had value! (Bring it back; pan to frame her again.) That other ponies might like me and want to be my friend! (Brandish at Twilight again; emphasize every word.) And you didn’t show up!

(As tears gather in her eyes, she slings the club aside and gallops away with a scream of mingled fury and misery. Cut to a head-on view of the other six and zoom out slowly to the sound of her hysterical sobbing, which does wonders to deflate their spirits in short order, then cut to Pinkie and Spike. The party pony snaps on a smile and whispers into the baby dragon’s ear for a second; the nod that follows brings a smile to his face, and he walks off as hers shifts to display a new resolve.)

(Cut to a close-up of Moondancer, now a weeping huddle on the path. Twilight reaches into view to touch her shoulder.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) You’re right. (Zoom out to frame her.) This party can’t make up for the way I hurt you. But please, don’t let my mistake be the reason you can’t be friends with anypony else.

(Moondancer gives her a watery-eyed glance and stands up, the camera panning slightly on the start of the next line to frame Lemon/Minuette/Twinkleshine crossing to the pair.)

Minuette: We were your friends then, and we’d be honored to be your friends now.

(Sniffling a bit, the guest of honor floats her glasses off her face just long enough to wipe her eyes. Twilight rests a comforting hoof on her shoulder, bringing a quivery smile to the cream-colored face, and gestures off to one side with a grin. Cut to a close-up of Spike, who bows, and pan to frame three new arrivals behind him, all unicorn mares wearing party hats.)

Moondancer: (from o.s., disbelieving) What? (They step forth, one by one.) That’s the librarian! The bookseller! My sister!

(The family resemblance between her and the third mare comes through in the general mane/tail color scheme, slightly unkempt grooming, and thick eyebrows. Overhead shot of the gathering, with Spike leading these three in.)

Minuette: You’ve got a lot of friends, Moondancer. (Twilight approaches.)

Twilight: I’m sorry, Moondancer. (Moondancer turns to her; zoom in slowly.) I’ve faced magical creatures, the end of Equestria, all sorts of things. But seeing how my actions affected you? That was one of the worst feelings I’ve ever had.

Moondancer: (choking back a sob) Thank you, Twilight. I never realized how much I needed to hear that.

(Twilight smiles broadly and extends a front hoof; Moondancer starts to reciprocate but pulls back, so the light violet foreleg finishes the job by drawing her into a warm hug. The recluse is caught off guard, but soon relaxes into the embrace with a genuine smile. Both wipe away a tear, Moondancer floating her glasses up as before, and the camera zooms out quickly on the start of the next line to frame all the guests.)

Moondancer: Now come on, everypony! Let’s party! (to Pinkie) Right?

Pinkie: Right!

(A quick reach o.s. behind herself, and she wheels in her party cannon and sets it off. Tilt up quickly into the sky to follow its salvo of confetti and streamers.)

All: (now o.s.) YAAAAAAY!!

(The cheer trails off into laughter and conversation as the daytime sky fades into starry night under a full moon. Tilt down to frame Pinkie and Lemon digging into the cake from opposite sides, and pan slowly across the clearing: librarian, bookseller, and Moondancer’s sister talking…Spike helping himself to punch…Twinkleshine at the snack table. In close-up, Moondancer magically holds up a couple of books for the librarian and bookseller to consider and flips one of them open. The librarian has shed her party hat. Next, as Twilight/Lemon/Twinkleshine watch, a blindfolded Spike plays Pin the Tail on the Pony, stumbling toward a picture of Celestia tacked to a column and managing to stick a multicolored tail in exactly the right place. He lifts the cloth from his eyes to see the end result, and all four share a broad smile.)

(Dissolve to the gathering still in full swing, with Pinkie, Minuette, and Spike dancing under the disco ball as talk and laughter continue around them. Another dissolve clears most of the mares out of the area, leaving Moondancer to hug her sister as Lemon walks away and Twinkleshine magically pulls down a streamer—the party is winding down. All have removed their party hats. As said sister turns to go and Moondancer waves goodbye, the camera pans slightly back on the start of the next line to frame Twilight, Pinkie, and Spike approaching.)

Twilight: I think it’s time for us to go, Moondancer.

Moondancer: Thank you for helping me make some new friends—even if they are my old friends.

[Animation goof: Twilight, Pinkie, and Spike now have their hats back on.]

(She and Twilight embrace as Pinkie hops merrily in place.)

Twilight: Oh, we’ll come back and visit soon.

Moondancer: That would be great! (knowingly) You’ve still gotta teach me that Haycart technique.

Twilight: Deal. (Spike steps forward.)

Spike: Um, Moondancer? I-It got kinda banged up, but—

(From behind his back, he produces a crushed gift box and holds it forward.)

Spike: —here’s a little something I wanted to give you back at your first party.

(Her aura floats it away, undoing the ribbon and tearing the paper to reveal a framed photograph. As the scraps fall to the ground, the sight of this brings a teary smile to her face all over again. Cut to a close-up of it: Twilight, Lemon, Lyra, Minuette, Moondancer, and Twinkleshine gathered around a table. Minuette and Twinkleshine are chomping into the cupcakes laid out here, Lemon and Lyra are laughing, Twilight stares intently at a book floating open before her, and Moondancer aims a puzzled glance her way. Zoom out to show this photo hanging inside Moondancer’s run-down home, next to the open front door through which a wedge of daytime sky can be seen. Lemon, Minuette, and Twinkleshine have gathered in here, all wearing athletic jerseys, helmets, and knee pads on their forelegs, and a clopping of hooves is the prelude for a similarly attired Moondancer to emerge from the kitchen. She is carrying a ball with her magic, and animated conversation breaks out among the four as they trot out of the house. Through the doorway, they can be seen galloping back and forth, chasing the ball amid a babel of cheers and laughter. Fade to black.)


DO PRINCESSES DREAM OF MAGIC SHEEP?

Story by Jayson Thiessen, Jim Miller

Written by Scott Sonneborn

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by Meghan McCarthy

Supervising direction by Jayson Thiessen

Directed by Jim Miller

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of several sets of hooves galloping at top speed. The coat colors of Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Rarity can immediately be discerned. From here, cut to a long shot of the throne room within the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters and tilt down slowly from ceiling to floor. The place is just as much a wreck as it was before Twilight and company set to work renovating it in “Power Ponies,” and Princess Luna stands on the half-smashed walkway that connects the separate daises on which the two thrones rest. Daylight is visible through the shattered windows and collapsed ceiling.)

(As the headlong charge continues, the camera now framing Rainbow Dash flying above the group, the Princess of the Night faces grimly ahead and a blotch of starry, midnight-blue energy floats into view behind her. She flicks it a glance from the corner of her eye before speaking.)

Luna: Greetings, Tantabus. I am ready. Do your worst.

(The sky darkens into night, and the insubstantial entity forms itself into a sphere. It gains a red corona and throws dark beams over the throne room, causing her to moan and shudder in pain as they make contact. Twilight and all five of her friends burst through the doors at the opposite end—Fluttershy is now with them—and skid to a stop with a collective gasp of terror. Just as at the end of Part One of “Princess Twilight Sparkle,” Luna becomes enveloped in a sphere of the whirling energy that transformed her into Nightmare Moon. Sympathetic vibrations set the whole room shaking.)

Twilight: Princess Luna’s turning into Nightmare Moon, again!

(On this last word, cut to an extreme close-up of one tightly closed eye in the blue-black face, framed by the edge of the all-too-familiar blue armored helmet. That eye pops open to the sound of Nightmare’s soft laughter, its slitted pupil contracting within the blue-green iris, and the teeth lengthen into lethal points as the mouth voices a mad cackle at full volume. She now hovers over the room in her complete and terrifying glory, while the six from Ponyville shield their eyes from the dark radiance streaming around her. Rainbow is first to face it straight on as it fades away, her usual cockiness returning.)

Rainbow: Yeah? Well, we’ve got the cure for that!

(Six broad shafts of light punch down from above, each enveloping one of the mares. A final flash fades away to reveal that they have manifested the power granted to them by the Tree of Harmony in Part Two of “Twilight’s Kingdom.” As the camera cuts to an extreme close-up of Twilight’s face and zooms out, they open white-glowing eyes and unleash their magic. Just as when they used it to defeat Tirek, six pastel beams—one in each coat color—arc toward Nightmare and merge into a rainbow that floods her with its energy. She laughs at the onslaught, but when it fades, she turns to find that the starry sphere is changing back to an irregular blob and letting its beams droop. The sky behind it has lightened again.)

Nightmare: Wait!

(This thing, the Tantabus, retracts the black magic into itself in close-up.)

Nightmare: (from o.s.) What is it doing?

(The answer: extending a couple of pseudopodia to tear a small hole in the sky, exposing star-filled cosmos behind, so it can dart through. The rip immediately seals itself again.)

Nightmare: No! It’s gone!

(Now the powered-up ponies really let her have it; she is lost to sight behind the glare, voicing a couple of anguished cries as the black enchantments spatter away from her like ink. The brightness fills the screen and fades away to show Luna as herself again, hovering in midair and hopelessly confused as her cheering, laughing saviors converge to deliver a group hug. Zoom out slightly from this tableau, then cut to a close-up of Luna asleep in a bed. She snaps awake and sits up with a wide-eyed gasp, sweat running down her face.)

Luna: What?

(Cut to frame the entire room, her bedchamber within Canterlot Castle. The frame of her bed is a giant white crescent moon, standing upright on a sculpted bed of clouds, and the mattress is nestled into the lower curve. Both her blanket and the bed’s overhead drapes display a star pattern. Lamps styled as bare trees stand by the bed and doors, and a lantern hangs from the crescent’s upper point. Shades of blue and deep magenta dominate throughout the room, and four dark blue slippers rest by the bed, each showing a white crescent moon.)

Luna: My dream ended…happily? (Close-up, zooming in slowly; she emphasizes each word.) That cannot happen!

(Snap to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the Carousel Boutique and zoom in slowly. It is daytime.)

Pinkie: (voice over) Ooooh, this is amazing!

(Cut to a close-up of Rainbow in the ground-floor showroom, straightening up with an expansive yawn. The signs of fatigue quickly become visible under her eyes and in her voice.)

Rainbow: Yeah, Rarity.

(Longer shot of this end of the room. She, Applejack, and Rarity are tending to their pets in different ways: a bath for Tank—up and about since settling down for his long winter’s nap in “Tanks for the Memories”—combing Opalescence’s coat, playing with Winona. The earth pony and unicorn look just as fatigued as the pegasus.)

Rainbow: Thanks for setting all this up.

(Pan to follow Pinkie’s hopping passage across the room and frame an equally wiped-out Twilight and Fluttershy, caring for their own pets, on the start of the next line. The perky pink one, though, is without her alligator Gummy and looks/sounds as fresh as ever, in sharp contrast to the others’ general sleep deprivation.)

Fluttershy: A grooming day for our pets really was a great idea.

(Rarity begins to nod off as she works the comb through Opal’s fur, and a mis-aimed stroke drives the wire tines into the skin. Opal yowls and jumps for the ceiling, startling her awake.)

Rarity: Ooh, my! (addressing herself up and o.s.) Oh, I’m sorry! (Opal is now hanging off the overhead wallwork by her claws; she continues with a yawn.) I didn’t get my normal beauty sleep last night.

(That excuse just gets her a loud, angry hiss from the feline.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) You know… (Cut to her, yawning.) …I didn’t sleep well either. (Weary assent from Applejack/Fluttershy/Rainbow as Opal slides down the wall.)

Pinkie: (cartwheeling past) I’m totally beat too! (Winona barks, waking Applejack up.)

Applejack: (reaching o.s.) All right, Winona.

(Close-up of the platform on which she is fumbling about. Gummy lies among the scattered brushes.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) Time for your brushin’.

(She gets hold of the green reptile by mistake. He playfully chomps Winona’s ear, causing the dog to shake him loose so that he lands on the head of Owlowiscious, Twilight’s owl. The bird flies off his perch in a panic, knocking her into Tank’s bathtub, and Applejack can only stare as Winona rubs the side of her head on the platform’s edge to relieve the discomfort of the bite.)

Applejack: Oops. I guess I’m too plumb tuckered out to do this right.

(Owlowiscious flies past behind her, chased by Pinkie, on the end of this. Close-up of Fluttershy.)

Fluttershy: (yawning) I even went to bed early last night, but then I had a really scary nightmare. (Zoom out to frame all six.)

Other five: Me too!

Rainbow: Uh, only, you know, I didn’t think mine was that scary.

Twilight: Well, mine sure was. There was this blue smoke monster and…

(She trails off, finding five pairs of disbelieving eyes trained directly on her and seeing a jaw hanging full open on every face except Rainbow’s.)

Twilight: What?

Fluttershy: I dreamt about a blue smoke thingie too!

Applejack, Fluttershy, Rarity: Me too!

Rainbow: So what? (flipping to hover on her back) Probably just a coincidence.

Twilight: (climbing out of tub; Spike brings towels) That’s an awfully big coincidence.

Spike: Huh. (Twilight floats a towel up to dry herself.) I wonder why I didn’t have that nightmare. I slept great!

(His self-congratulatory smile is met with a round of irritated/weary glares from the four tired ponies not living under the same roof with him. Long pause.)

Rarity: So, then, what could have given us all the same nightmare?         

Twilight: I don’t know, but I do know who might. (passing towel back to Spike) Spike, could you send a scroll to Princess Luna? (He throws them all aside.)

Spike: Sure! (Out with scroll and quill.) All set!

Twilight: (dictating, pacing past the others) “Dear Princess Luna: Last night my friends and I all dreamt of a creature made of blue smoke. I’m sure you’re very busy, but…” (Yawn.) “…when you have the chance, please let me know if you have any idea what it could mean.” (Cut to Spike, writing; she continues o.s.) “Yours…” (Yawn.) “…Princess Twilight Sparkle.” You can leave out the yawns.

(Throwing her a big goofy grin, he scratches out a line or two on the scroll, then throws the quill aside and rolls it up. A blast of fire burns it away and sends the smoke out the nearest window toward Canterlot. It has barely cleared the sill before a muffled boom just outside the door scares the daylights out of him, and Luna bursts into the showroom without knocking or waiting for any of the group to open the door for her. She is on the edge of total panic.)

Luna: Which of you saw the creature of blue smoke in your nightmare?

Fluttershy: Wow! That was fast.

Twilight: We all did.

Spike: (walking past) Not me!

Applejack, Rainbow, Rarity: (wearily; Rainbow/Rarity groaning) We know.

Twilight: So you’ve encountered the smoke monster too?

Luna: (crossing to them, more composed) The Tantabus is a creature of my nightmares. It escaped from my slumbers yesterday.

Fluttershy: But…how did it get into ours? (Zoom in slowly on Luna.)

Luna: The Tantabus is like a parasite. My dreams must no longer be enough for it. Now it seeks others to infect and corrupt. (Overhead shot of the group.) It must have learned of you six from seeing you in my dream. (She turns away.)

Spike: Whoa-whoa-whoa. (crossing to her) So what you’re saying is…you dreamt about all of them and not me?

(Feeling rejected, he aims a pair of big sad soulful green eyes up at her and voices a piteous little whine.)

Rainbow: Uh, so Smokey gave us bad dreams. No biggie.

Luna: (shaking head) I saw that the Tantabus had grown more powerful, but I did not realize that power was enough to enable it to escape my dreams.

(On the end of this line, the camera zooms in to an extreme close-up of her eye and the view fades to black. A circular blue-gray field of view slides onto the screen, mimicking the perspective of someone looking through a microscope; the Tantabus floats at the center.)

Luna: (voice over) If its power grows— (The thing expands, pokes a hole in the field, and oozes through it.) —it could very well find a way to escape into the real world.

(Now Ponyville is seen in a long shot; the Tantabus materializes in the sky above and slowly grows to fill the view.)

Luna: (voice over) It could turn all of Equestria into a living nightmare!

(Dissolve to an extreme close-up of part of Luna’s sparkling mane and zoom out to frame all of her—facing away from the group, eyes wide open and staring fixedly in mute horror. Rainbow’s previous bravado evaporates in a hurry.)

Rainbow: Okay, okay, okay. I take it back. That does sound bad. Really bad!

(Snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of Twilight’s castle and zoom in slowly. Night has fallen.)

Twilight: (from inside) We’ve prepared everything exactly as you requested.

(Cut to a room inside as the doors swing open to admit the ponies and dragon. A large four-poster bed and nightstand are set to one side, near a window, marking this as Twilight’s bedchamber, and a telescope stands at a second window across from them. Six smaller beds have been arranged in a semicircle, their foot ends pointing toward the center. The bookcase and framed photos to one side of the door suggest that this room served as the setting for the prologue of “Amending Fences.”)

Luna: Good. (hovering above beds) As you six slumber here, I will pursue the creature into whichever of your dreams it infests.

Pinkie: (hopping onto one bed; Applejack/Rainbow/Rarity claim others) Ooooh! It’ll be like a princess sleepover! (Twilight turns down the blanket on the four-poster.)

Twilight: Speaking of princesses… (She jumps in and magically pulls it over herself.) …aren’t you gonna ask Celestia for her help as well?

Luna: There is nothing my sister can do. She has no power in the realm of sleep.

(She crosses the room to Applejack/Pinkie/Rainbow, all tucked in; the farmer’s cowboy hat hangs off her headboard.)

Luna: Only I can move from dream to dream. I am afraid nopony can help me tonight.

Applejack: Even us? (Luna’s perspective, pivoting slowly across the five, now all in the beds.)

Luna: Especially you. You have all suffered so much because of me. (Back to her.) You need only slumber while I hunt the Tantabus in your dreams.

(Something below camera level begins to tug at her mane; a cut to floor level reveals Spike as the source.)

Spike: I know you said nopony can help, but I’m no pony. (jumping onto the last free bed) I’m gonna stay up and watch over you guys, just in case.

(Sitting down on the bedclothes, he uses thumbs and forefingers to pull his eyelids wide open. This gets him a gentle smile from the recumbent and standing Princesses.)

Twilight: Oh, thank you, Spike!

Applejack: (yawning) One good thing about not sleepin’ well last night— (settling down) —shouldn’t be too hard to fall asleep now. (Pinkie pops up from under the blanket, scaring her awake.)

Pinkie: Are you kidding? This is so exciting! I don’t know how I’m ever going to—

(Out she goes, as abruptly and completely as if someone had pulled the plug on her brain. Head flops back onto pillow and raucous snores split the air. Seeing nothing for it, Applejack nestles back under her half of the blanket and the other ponies are quick to follow suit, Rarity using her favorite sleep mask. Glancing around herself, Luna lets a few flaps of her wings carry her toward the ceiling, where she hovers and kindles a spark of white magic at the tip of her horn. This grows into a whirling aura and a glow that traces along the horn’s groove from base to tip; here, it emerges as six glowing tendrils that snake down toward the sleepers and connect with their foreheads. The winged unicorn concentrates, sending a pulse of energy along one line, and the camera shifts to ride with it toward Rarity. Once it makes contact, her sleep mask fades away and the background dissolves to a new setting. She opens her eyes to stare straight ahead, blinking confusedly, then smiles.)

Rarity: Oh, my!

 

(Long shot of this new area: a dimly lit gray room with walls/windows/stairs set at crazy angles. Floating around the designer are multiple copies of the same outfit: a deep pink gown with light blue ruffles at the skirt hem, deep blue trim at collar and foreleg sleeve cuffs, white lace at collar and waist, and magenta fabric over the chest. She gasps as they walk and float past under their own power.)

Rarity: This is simply divine! (The Tantabus cruises past, unnoticed, as she stands up to her hind legs.) How avant-garde!

(It zips in through the collar of one gown and out the hem; the thing flops down on the floor, and two blue ribbons extend upward from within the fabric. An unearthly growl draws Rarity’s attention around just in time for her to see this thing coming straight at her, with a long tongue snaking out the collar, the ribbons as snakes, sleeves turned into clawed forelimbs, and propelling tentacles in place of the hem ruffles.)

Rarity: Forget avant-garde—I should have said “en garde”!        

(Blasts from her horn repel both this outfit and a second one trying to close in from the side. This latter hits the wall and slides down; when it hits the floor, it glows pure white and expands like a balloon, bursting to reveal Luna standing among the fabric scraps.)

Luna: It is here!

(Three more airborne gowns turn wild and fall to shredding one that is still behaving itself.)

Rarity: (gasping, picking up/nuzzling a scrap) It was such a pretty little chiffon. (She falls to her haunches with a sob as Luna crosses to her.) What kind of monster would do this?!?

Luna: The Tantabus. (Close-up: Rarity stands up, ready to fight.)

Rarity: Then let’s stop it!

Luna: (from o.s., blocking her with a wing) No!

(Cut to frame both again; she flies around Rarity to face her straight on.)

Luna: Please! (The Tantabus rises behind her…) I don’t want you to suffer any more because of me. (…then zips away.) I will catch it.

(She darts after the thing, which takes cover behind a squad of mutated formalwear. One, two, three of these are blasted away, and now she has a clear line of sight—but it sails through an open window, which quickly bricks itself up, and is gone into the night.)

Luna: It has jumped into another dream. (to Rarity, as she shoots down another one) I am sorry, but if I am to stop it, I must follow it where you cannot.

Rarity: Go!

(The nocturnal Princess blows the bricks apart and flies out. On the start of the next line, zoom out to frame Rarity, turning to face the room.)

Rarity: I should be able to handle things here.

(Her face falls as she sees just how much of the haute couture is ready to throw down on her.)

Rarity: (small voice) I hope.

(One gown rises into view, facing away from the camera. Behind its hem, the view wipes to show Pinkie trotting through a sunlit forest and singing cheerfully. A sudden hop forward, and the background is now an underground cave. Another one brings her to a mountain ledge, where a massive red dragon lies facing her. Its mighty roar has no effect on her happy mood, and she hops past it to arrive in Cloudsdale. The first hop is accompanied by a “hee,” the second by a “whee” and giggle, and she finds Luna waiting for her after the third but keeps on trotting.)

Luna: I followed the Tantabus here. Now I need only find—

(Here comes another hop, which shifts Pinkie to a crumbling courtyard in a dense jungle.)

Pinkie: Sorry, can’t help it. (Close-up.) An idea pops into my head and—

(And another, this time to a room filled with cakes. She stops dead with a little gasp, the big blue eyes staring wonderingly around, and the camera cuts to frame all of this new milieu—her upper-story bedroom in Sugarcube Corner, stocked with cakes small and large.)

Pinkie: Oooooh! Cake!

(Here comes the dark foe, slithering past one of the desserts and touching a triple-decker with a pulse of energy. As Pinkie gets ready to take a bite out of it, she gets a faceful of frosting instead; she backs away fearfully, finding that all three of its layers have sprouted glaring eyes and very unfriendly, snarling mouths. More eyes top the uppermost layer, and two frosting-covered arms sprout from the next one down.)

Pinkie: (backing up) Ewww! Cake!

(Others start to back her up across the room, and one hurls itself over to land next to her and explodes. Out steps Luna from the sugary ruin, throwing a force field around herself and Pinkie and expanding it to fill the screen. When the view clears, the two are left standing amid a mess of very tasty carnage; Pinkie grins at the sight, but Luna glances worriedly off to one side. The Tantabus zips into an open bakery box on the floor, whose lid promptly flips shut; the Princess hurls herself after it, but one of Pinkie’s dream-hops takes the room away and shifts the setting to a place where she rams headfirst into some glassy wall.)

Luna: (horrified) No!

(Zoom out quickly. She and Pinkie are now in the Crystal Empire, just outside the Crystal Castle, and she has hit the statue built in Spike’s honor that was first seen in “Equestria Games.”)

Pinkie: Sorry.

(Luna flies up, firing a beam from her horn to open a portal in the air for the split second needed to disappear through it. Left to herself, Pinkie hops to Ponyville and finds a giant ice cream cone—nearly twice her height—waiting for her in the middle of the street.)

Pinkie: (loudly, singsong) Who wants ice cream?

(Ponies emerge from houses up and down the block in response. The camera pans quickly away from this scene, then slows down to follow a couple of butterflies and stops on a close-up of an utterly relaxed Fluttershy. She is sitting on her haunches just outside her cottage and having her mane brushed by some very large white creature that is almost completely out of view, except for the forelimb gripping the brush.)

Fluttershy: Hmmm…

(Long shot: the white one is her rabbit Angel, grown to almost three times her height even if his ears are excluded. They are in her backyard, during the day.)

Fluttershy: …it’s so nice to be the pet for once.

(The Tantabus slithers past in midair during the previous line. A touch changes Angel’s tail into a mass of furry spikes, and in a close-up of Fluttershy, the brush is drawn away so that he can run a set of freshly minted claws through her mane. A threatening growl and a spatter of drool over the pink strands boot the pegasus out of her reverie; she looks up to find a fearsome parody of her beloved bunny roaring down at her. The eyes have gone a sick orange, and the ears have been replaced by horns striped in two shades of blue.)

Fluttershy: (cowering) N-N-N-Nice…giant…evil Angel!

(A longer shot frames the blue-green fur and blue hide that have replaced the white on most of his torso, as well as the fiery orange tuft on the end of his now-elongated tail. Fluttershy has time for one scream before Luna swoops down to carry to her safety, away from the snatching claws. The two come to rest atop a nearby tree; close-up of them.)

Fluttershy: Phew. Oh, thank you, Princess!

(Both stare intently down past the edge of the boughs, and the camera tilts quickly down to a birdhouse hanging from a branch. The Tantabus stuffs itself into the entrance hole; in the sky, a flash of Luna’s magic causes a door to appear and open. She flies through it into the star-filled realm to which the creature escaped during the prologue, and the door swings closed and winks out. Fluttershy smiles gratefully after Luna in close-up, but a sick crunching sound and a sudden tremor snap her back to reality. A long shot of the entire tree frames the overgrown Angel gnawing at the trunk to try and bring it down.)

(A tree slides past this deranged tableau; behind it, the view wipes to Applejack on the grounds of Sweet Apple Acres, running a polishing cloth over a gigantic red apple. As in “Bats!”, this particular fruit is weighty enough to impart a 90-degree bend to the trunk and boughs of the tree to which it is still attached. It is daytime, and she has her hat on.)

Applejack: (sighing happily) Now this is what I call an incredible dream.

(Tilt up into the sky, where a small aperture forms just long enough for the Tantabus to emerge. It begins to veer wildly through the orchard, turning every tree it touches into a withered husk. A bud appears on the end of one unaffected tree, quickly blooming and swelling to become Luna. She looks frantically around herself; cut to a close-up of Applejack, who has worked one spot of the massive apple’s skin to a mirror shine. This gives her an all-too-clear view of the Tantabus’ reflection looming up behind her, and she turns to find the abomination devastating every tree it touches as it homes in on her. It disappears into the gargantuan fruit, shriveling it into a desiccated ruin, and Luna hurls herself in after it through a tear in the browned skin. Applejack turns to gape after her.)

(Cut to a close-up of the Princess barreling straight ahead with both forelegs extended. She comes to a stop and looks around, suddenly bewildered, as the camera zooms out quickly. The scene has changed to a barren nighttime landscape studded by irregular, claw-like rock formations, and Rainbow is hard at work beating up a gang of attacking changelings. She makes short work of each one except the last, which gets her in a half nelson only to be blasted away by Luna’s magic. Zoom out to frame her on the start of the next line.)

Luna: I can see the Tantabus has already turned your slumbers into a nightmare!

Rainbow: (smiling) What are you talking about? This is my favorite dream!

(As one changeling begins to sneak up behind her, she proceeds to knock it cold with a foreleg strike, not even bothering to turn around. Luna is so flabbergasted by this casual counterattack that she never notices the Tantabus darting into spread its influence onto one of the twisted rocks. Pan quickly to frame both Rainbow and another changeling hovering against a featureless pink expanse. She sends this one out of the park with a hind-leg kick, but is absolutely unprepared for what she hears next—a voice singing in an incredibly insipid tone.)

Music-box melody to the tune of “This Old Man,” slow 4 (D flat major)

Voice:                We are such happy flowers

(Zoom out. She and Luna are hovering in a pink sky, above a meadow in which various sweets have replaced most of the natural features, including tree boughs. Several yellow sunflowers have smiling faces, and one of them is doing the singing as others sprout up.)

Flower 1:        We will now sing for hours

(Many others join in; pan across them. The tone becomes decidedly nasty.)

Flowers:         Aren’t we unbearably cute?

(One more pops up, holding a flute, going from insipid to nasty as well.)

Flower 2:        Watch me solo on this flute

Song ends

(It makes good on the promise, prompting Rainbow to scream and clap hooves to ears—for her, this cloyingly sweet world is her worst nightmare. Luna, meanwhile, spots the Tantabus zipping upward and goes after it, the two disappearing into a thick bank of clouds. Once these have filled the screen, the camera rotates 180 degrees and tilts down to frame Twilight seated behind a desk in an expansive library. The orange light of sunset pours in through the arched glass ceiling high above, and books flutter around her like birds as she plucks one from the air and begins to read. One of them slots itself into place on a shelf; nearby, a different one slides free and opens to disgorge the Tantabus. The sound causes Twilight to glance back over her shoulder.)

Twilight: Huh?

(Surprise turns into a shocked gasp when she notices several volumes coming at her, having grown bat wings and red eyes from their covers and claws from the pages. She jumps onto her desk, dodges a couple of incoming attackers, then takes flight to stay ahead of the next bunch. Suddenly she breaks off her mad dash with a gasp; up ahead, the Tantabus rounds a corner and hurtles straight toward her. Luna touches down just in front of Twilight, forcing it to stop, and lets a spell from her horn lance into the amorphous enemy.)

Twilight: Luna!

(The arcane power quickly encases the Tantabus in a mass of jagged, multicolored crystals. In close-up, Luna ends her spell and looks apprehensively back toward the sound of grunts from the o.s. Twilight; cut to the violet winged unicorn, backed up against a set of shelves. She is trying to fend off the offensive of both the bat-books and a few others that have become slime-covered and are slithering along the floor toward her like snails. To make matters worse, glowing cracks begin to spread over the newly grown crystals, and the Tantabus bursts forth from them to fill the screen.)

(Cut to a six-way split screen of the sleeping mares in Twilight’s bedchamber. The central portion of the screen is a diamond, split vertically down the middle with Twilight and Rarity on opposite sides, and the other four each appear in one corner. The magic connections to their minds have been broken, and Applejack and Pinkie are now sleeping in separate beds. All snap awake with a chorus of yelps, Rarity lifting her sleep mask, and the camera cuts to Spike—still awake, sitting up on his bed, and reading a book. When he lays it down on the blanket, though, a comic book can be seen hidden inside. Each pony, when seen next, will be sitting up in bed.)

Spike: What happened? (He hurries to Rarity’s bedside; she has laid her mask down.) Are you guys okay?

Fluttershy: (from o.s., voice trembling) That… (Pan to her.) …that was terrible! (shivering) I…I never want to have that nightmare again!

(She huddles miserably down into her bedclothes; Rainbow is faring no better.)

Rainbow: (shuddering) Me either! (She rocks back and forth; now Spike backs up a step.)

Spike: But Luna caught it! (to Twilight) Didn’t she?

Luna: (from o.s., somberly) I am so sorry, my friends. (descending from above, touching down at center of room) I failed. It will be back to infect your dreams the next time you sleep.

Fluttershy: Oh, no! (She pulls the covers up over her head.)

Applejack: Yeah. I reckon I could live without seeing that thing ever again.

Luna: (leaning to her, then Pinkie, then Twilight) But you will. Again and again— (Back off.) every night, until it grows powerful enough to infect the waking world!

(She crosses to stare out at the moon, fighting to keep her voice under control.)

Luna: After what I did as Nightmare Moon, the fact that I am once again responsible for harming others is more than I can bear.

Pinkie: It’ll be okay. Everypony makes mistakes.

Luna: (crossing back to them) As long as none of you dreamt about another pony, the Tantabus remains confined to your dreams. I still have a chance to catch it before it’s too late.

Pinkie: (wiping forehead) Phew! That’s good to hear. (rapid fire, hugging pillow) Although after you left, I did happen to dream that I was eating a giant ice cream cone with all of Ponyville and taking a test we hadn’t studied for. (normal speed) See? What’d I tell you? Everypony makes mistakes.

(This bit of high-speed news hits Luna like a wagonload of anvils. Zoom in to a close-up of her cringing expression and snap to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to the moon, seen through one of the bedchamber windows. On the start of the next line, pan/tilt down to a very scared Twilight, still sitting up in bed.)

Twilight: But that means the Tantabus could be turning every dream in Ponyville into a nightmare!

Luna: (pacing a bit) It is far worse than that. Infecting all of those dreams gives it more and more power. (Close-up.) Soon it will be able to escape into the real world and infect Equestria with its nightmare plague! (Pan to Rarity on the start of the following.)

Rarity: Then you must let us help you stop it before that happens! (Cut to Fluttershy; she peeks out from her covers.)

Fluttershy: But how? The Tantabus was able to escape Luna when it only had six dreams it could get to.

Luna: (from o.s.) It is true. (Zoom out to put her in the fore.) With so many dreams to hide in, I do not know how I can catch it.

Twilight: (thinking a bit) Hmm…what if everypony in Ponyville were having one dream? (Cut to Luna; these words give her pause.)

Luna: (uncertainly, pacing a bit) I…can create shared dreams, yes. But for so many ponies at once? I have never done anything like that. The amount of power it would take…

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Well— (Pan in her direction.) —it is worth a try. (now in view) Isn’t it?

Luna: Of course. I will do anything to end this, including accept your help. I cannot allow the Tantabus to escape into the real world. All of you must now go back to sleep, and hope that I can create such a dream.

(On the end of this, cut to Twilight and then Fluttershy/Rarity, each settling back in for a trip to the land of Nod. When the camera cuts to Spike, he has done the same and is already snoring quietly. The swirling white aura of Luna’s previous spell shines down on him, and she floats up above the somnolent septet and lets the threads of dream energy spread from her horn as before. This time, however, she generates many more and many again, letting them snake in every direction. Cut to a shot of the castle exterior and zoom out as they extend toward Ponyville proper, a spot of blinding white light growing at the bedchamber window. The glowing tendrils find their way into house after house, through a sky now filled with faint ribbons of light, and that brilliant epicenter expands to fill the screen.)

(Fade in to a close-up of the moon in the night sky. Winged muffins of assorted make and model fly past, one of them honking like a goose, and the camera tilts down into a village street that stands placidly under the low-intensity aurora. Several of the locals are out and about, wondering just what the heck is going on, and as one earth pony floats lazily backwards on her back—in midair—Mayor Mare backs up warily and stops only upon running into something tall and gray that resembles a pair of enormous forelegs. The eyes behind the half-moon glasses pop wide open, and she turns to look at this thing as the camera zooms out to frame all of it. The legs belong to a Derpy Hooves grown as tall as a house; she bends down with a cross-eyed smile and gives a happy little cry of greeting before walking off.)

(Cut to a close-up of Lyra Heartstrings straightening up into view with a very surprised look, then pan a short distance in that direction to frame an equally flummoxed Bon Bon staring back at her. A zoom out tells the story: the front halves of their bodies have been joined to create one double-headed mare, mint green at Lyra’s end and cream-colored at Bon Bon’s. Both faces break into smiles, and each end lifts a foreleg to embrace the other.)

(Twilight and her friends—Applejack with her hat on—arrive on this decidedly bizarre scene, which gets even more so due to the following. Berry Punch has detached her head and is carrying it on the end of a string as a balloon, which she promptly releases to float away. Cherry Berry is piloting a rowboat through thin air overhead. A lamppost walks down the block, tipping the upper portion of its light housing as a hat. Twilight gasps happily at the collective weirdness.)

Twilight: Princess Luna did it!

(And Applejack gets a further confirmation of this fact when she sees Opal chase a very tiny stallion down the street. She shudders quietly to herself before Big Macintosh steps partly into view, considerably larger than normal and with the top of his head cut off by the upper edge of the screen.)

Applejack: Big Mac! Boy, I’m glad to see somethin’ familiar!

(Her eyes pop and her jaw drops. Cut to an extreme close-up of the red stallion’s smiling face and zoom out. Protruding from the orange shag on top of his brain bucket is a horn, which he fires up with ease.)

Macintosh: Ee-yup.

(He conjures up a smiling apple and sends it flying over the others’ heads, eliciting a mixture of smiles and completely dumbfounded looks.)

Luna: (from o.s., reverberating slightly) PONIES!

(Pan quickly to her, floating in a translucent sphere of white magical energy and keeping the dream connections powered up. The locals gather around her. For the remainder of this episode, all of her lines carry the same reverberating quality due to the field enclosing her.)

Ponies: Princess Luna! (Bow.)

Luna: There is no time for bowing, my friends! There’s something coming! Something terrible! (Gasp; she stares overhead.) No. (pointing) It is already here!

(The Tantabus cruises slowly over the buildings, having grown big enough to blot out a good portion of the night sky. As ponies cower away from it and cry out in fear, a sweaty-faced Luna strains mightily to keep her spell going.)

Luna: I am so sorry! I brought this upon you! But I will end it now!

(She redoubles her effort, sending a fresh bolt into the formless horror, but cannot keep up this exertion for more than a few seconds. When she lets off, it swings down toward the town square, sending the ponies into a screaming retreat. Berry has her head back on now. Twilight and the gang hurry to the Princess’s side.)

Twilight: Princess! What’s wrong?

Luna: (grunting, with effort) It…is taking all my strength just to hold this massive dream together! (Overhead shot of the six; she continues o.s.) You will have to stop it! (Back to her; the Tantabus idles past in the background.) I truly wish I did not have to ask this of you!

Twilight: (smiling fiercely) Then you’re in luck. (Tilt up to the hovering Rainbow.)

Rainbow: Yeah! We’re already on it!

(She is the first one off the blocks, chasing the thing across town, and the others follow on hoof. It dives into one window of a house and out a different one, bringing the whole structure to life. One of the uppermost windows becomes a glaring red eye framed by bat wings; eyes and mouths manifest on other walls, and the beastly domicile stands up off its foundations on two thick legs and begins to stomp away. Pan quickly to another house as the Tantabus whizzes past; this one grows clawed paws, and one occupant bails out through the front door to keep ahead of the tongue that lashes out after her. Tilt up past one set of eyes and mouth to stop at a second one on the uppermost rooftop; horns and clawed hands/feet have appeared up here as well, and one fist punches out through the wall with Filthy Rich in its grip.)

Filthy: (sobbing with fear) Please! I’ll pay you anything!

(He comes up with a single bit and a placating grin, but the monstrosity just roars in his face forcefully enough to send the coin flying to who knows where. Rainbow flashes backwards into view with a shout, delivering a flying kick to the thatched face and causing the thing to drop Filthy; an instant later she has swooped down to airlift him away.)

Rainbow: I got you!

(The first house clomps along, scattering freaked-out ponies everywhere, as one stallion braces himself within one window-mouth in a desperate bid to avoid being swallowed whole. Twilight, now airborne, fires a shot from her horn that hits the wall and allows him to jump clear; down below; Applejack skids into just the right position to catch him on her back. Elsewhere, a stallion finds himself wedged between two massive clawed toes of the second house and cannot pull loose despite his best efforts. Fluttershy spots his predicament from her hovering vantage point nearby and, with almost no hesitation, transforms into the pony/bat form she assumed in “Bats!” after Twilight’s spell on the vampire fruit bats went awry. Baring her fangs, she dives down and o.s.; there is the sound of a bite, and the house utters a scream of pain and lifts the foot in which the victim is stuck. He falls out of the toes, revealing his pegasus wings, and Fluttershy—her change instantly reversed—swoops in to right him so they can both fly to safety.)

(Up on a rooftop, another stallion has been snagged by a freshly sprouted Venus flytrap and is about to become dinner. A lasso snaps up into view and ties the plant’s toothy mouth shut; pan quickly to Applejack, standing on the roof with the rope’s other end in her teeth. A glance downward throws a shot of fear into her and causes her to let go.)

Applejack: Oh, no!

(Overhead shot of Macintosh, back to his normal size and being slowly backed up against a wall by a horde of flying muffins.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) Big Mac! (Back to her.) You can do anythin’ in a dream, remember?

(Extreme close-up of the older workhorse’s darting green eyes, which squeeze tightly shut and then pop open to expose red stars in place of the pupils and irises. The red hide goes a brilliant yellow-white, and the camera zooms out to show all of him subsumed by this new radiance. He does one full turn in place, voicing a loud neigh, and his normal color begins to return, working from the hooves up. Each hoof is now protected by a gold shoe marked with a red apple; blue gems, a gold tassel, and decorative gold etching appear on his hitching collar; matching gems attach themselves to the collar’s pegs; a small crown topped with a large green apple appears on his head; and his mane/tail shine softly. The biggest change, though, is the pair of wings that appear on his flanks; when he unfurls them, all of the attacking baked goods are catapulted out of sight. His eyes have returned to their usual appearance.)

Macintosh: (lifting off) Wheeeeee!

(The improbable winged unicorn giggles like an idiot as he cuts a loop-the-loop and soars away into the night. Pan to Applejack on the rooftop, with Rainbow dropping to her level.)

Rainbow: Come on! If that Tantabus thing turns any more of this dream against us, we’ll be too busy saving ponies to catch it! And it’ll grow powerful enough to escape into the real world!

(Street level. As the super-sized Derpy flies after the wayward muffins, Rainbow zooms along in the opposite direction and Applejack gallops to keep pace.)

Applejack: How are we even gonna know when it’s able to escape?

(They slam on the brakes and Rainbow drops to the ground to avoid zooming over the heads of Twilight/Fluttershy/Pinkie/Rarity. All four are staring straight ahead in wordless shock; up top, the Tantabus forms part of itself into a sword and uses this to slash a white-glowing rent through the sky, through which it starts to flow.)

Rainbow: Oh, I think we’ll know.

(Twilight fires off a shot that connects with the exiting bit of Tantabus and forces it to recoil away from the rift so that Luna can seal it with a beam, groaning with effort. The thing darts off in a new direction.)

Luna: Hurry, my friends!

(First to move is Rainbow, cutting a wide loop to get after it and catching up with ease. When she tries to strike from behind, though, it just forms a ring and lets her go right through the empty middle.)

Rainbow: What the—? (Fluttershy approaches several unnerved ponies.)

Fluttershy: Please! We need your help too!

(Here comes Twilight, uncorking a fresh burst of magic that punches a hole through the Tantabus. The puncture seals itself with no effect.)

Twilight: Fluttershy’s right. (Ponies gather in.) We’ve all got to work together to stop it from escaping!

Mr. Cake: But how can we help? Nopony in Ponyville has your magic, or your speed!

(He points in Twilight’s general direction on “your magic,” then in Rainbow’s on “your speed.” Cut to the hovering daredevil, who flips onto her back.)

Rainbow: That’s true—in Ponyville!

Applejack: But this here isn’t Ponyville! It’s a dream!         

(Several airborne muffins wing past, squawking like spooked chickens, and are swiftly blown to crumbs by horn blasts from Macintosh. He is putting his new wings to good use in the pursuit.)

Macintosh: Ee-yup!

Twilight: And not just any! This is your dream! Anything you can do in your dreams, you can do now!

(Spike lets these words run through his mind for a second, then snaps his fingers. He concentrates hard and takes on the bulked-up, armored adult form that he imagined himself into for his fantasy of saving Rarity in “A Dog and Pony Show.” He speaks in his normal voice.)

Spike: Well, if you’re gonna dream, might as well dream big, right?

(One powerful leap, and he is on Derpy’s back.)

Spike: Hey-yah! (He digs in his heels.)

Derpy: (rearing up) Whoa!

(Dragon and mount lift off, bringing a round of cheers from the onlookers once they manage to wrap their heads around what they have just seen. They charge across the grass; meanwhile, the Tantabus gains a bit of altitude and forms a pair of scissors to inflict a fresh cut on the fabric of dream space. As it prepares to exit stage left/right/above/whatever, here come Spike and Derpy, the rider pulling out a lance and cutting a gash through the Tantabus from one end to the other. It backs away from the opening, the halves knitting together just in time for Filthy to ride in on a trail of bits that he projects ahead of himself with one front hoof. A short, dark gray cape streams behind him, attached to his suit jacket lapels, and he raises his free foreleg to shoot a stream of the gold coins into the star-spangled bulk and drive it farther back.)

(A quickly formed tentacle opens yet another emergency exit, but the Cutie Mark Crusaders spot this attempt. Scootaloo hunkers down for a second and quickly replaces her own wings with a pair whose combined span is a good ten times her body width. Surprise torus to joy on the faces of Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle as she lifts off, and a few powerful beats are all she needs to stir up enough of a wind to repel the Tantabus. Rainbow rises to her level and gives herself a split-second makeover to become Zapp—the hero whose role she took on in “Power Ponies.” She hurls herself into a dive and pulls up to circle the Tantabus at insane speed, forming a whirlwind that sucks it down to ground level.)

Rainbow: It’s working!

Twilight: But it’s not enough!

(Sure enough, the nightmare creature slowly extrudes itself from the upper end of the funnel cloud and stretches over the town once again. Luna stares up at it, almost at her wits’ end.)

Pinkie: Then do more! This is a dream, remember?

(Twilight gallops to the ruins of the Golden Oak Library, skids to a stop facing away from them, and conjures the giant tree back into existence. At her gesture, the front door bursts open and a horde of books flies out to join the campaign. Cut to a head-on close-up of Applejack’s pounding hooves; a flash, and she has become Mistress Marevelous, another of the “Power Ponies” heroes. Tilt up to show her psychically controlled lasso floating alongside. As Twilight’s books harass the Tantabus from every angle, the rope loop slowly ascends and snags tight on a corner. It is yanked swiftly down from the egress it had planned to use; next a giant sewing needle comes up and lances back and forth, stitching the rip and pulling the edges back together. The whole thing fades from sight as if it had never existed, and the camera cuts to a confidently smiling Rarity as she gives an emphatic nod—a bit of her work, no doubt.)

(The massive clawed limbs of Angel’s monstrous form stomp past, scaring her out of her mental pat on the back; cut to Fluttershy, riding on his head and standing on her hind legs to guide him along. He is covering dozens of yards with every bound now, and it takes very little time for them to get in whatever passes for the Tantabus’s face. Luna’s dream-making spell is still going, but the tears gathering under her squeezed-shut eyelids tell how much of a drain it is for her.)

Luna: (grunting) I cannot hold this dream together much longer! Equestria will fall—because of me!

(Right on cue, her foe expands to cover most of Ponyville and throws off all the attempts to hold it back. As it slowly begins to re-shape itself over the horrified onlookers, Filthy is thrown to the ground amid a few clinking bits and Derpy and Spike are pushed back in midair.)

Spike: Am I crazy, or did it just get even bigger after Luna said that?

(A wind begins to howl; cut to Twilight. Until further notice, all ponies except Luna raise their voices to be heard over the noise.)

Twilight: I think it’s feeding off your guilt, Princess Luna! (Pan to her on the start of the next line.)

Luna: If that is so, then perhaps that is how it grew strong enough to escape in the first place! (Applejack leaps onto a rooftop to eye it out.)

Applejack: Say what now?

(The section closest to her takes on the outline of a unicorn head and uses the horn to open a new fissure in the dream-space-time continuum.)

Luna: I created the Tantabus to give myself the same nightmare every night! (sobbing) To punish myself for the evil I caused as Nightmare Moon! (It starts to form pony legs.)

Fluttershy: But why would you do that?

Luna: (voice breaking) To make sure I never forgave myself for how much Equestria suffered because of me! (Cut to Twilight; she continues o.s.) But it seems I have not learned my lesson. (Back to her.) For now I have only made you suffer more!

(The Tantabus finishes reconfiguring itself, forming a colossal unicorn. It grows several more sizes, almost reaching the top of a nearby mountain, and extends the opening with its horn.)

Twilight: But that means you might just be the key to stopping all this! (Rainbow flies in with the attack books.)

Rainbow: Yeah! If it gets strong because you feel bad about what you did as Nightmare Moon, then you just gotta stop feeling bad for what you did!

(During this line, the Tantabus begins to advance toward the rent and she zooms in close, circling through its legs.)

Luna: How can I forgive myself? I am no better now than I was then! My creation is about to turn the world into a living nightmare!

Twilight: But look at what you’re doing! (Long shot of Ponyville and the Tantabus; voice over.) Nightmare Moon would’ve wanted the Tantabus to turn Equestria into a nightmare! (Ground level; she and her friends gather before Luna.) You’re doing everything you can to stop it!

(Close-up of the distraught blue-violet face.)

Twilight: (from o.s.) Don’t you see? That proves you’re not the same pony you were then! (Slow pan across the six.) Everypony who knows you knows that Nightmare Moon is in the past! (Back to Luna; she continues o.s.) We all trust you, Luna! (The group again.) Do you trust us enough to believe we’re right?

(Tilt up from them to show the Tantabus now halfway out the door, then cut to an extreme close-up of Luna’s face. Two last tears slip down from the staring eyes before she allows herself a thankful smile.)

Luna: I do!

(With no warning, the nightmare creature is yanked bodily away and begins to shrink as the white aura of Luna’s spell plays over its form. In seconds it has been reduced to her size and brought down so she can look it in the face, and the roaring winds stop. The now-docile Tantabus steps toward the Princess, passing through the field of her spell and disappearing into her body. Last to go is the tip of its tail into the crescent moon on her necklace; the decoration emits a brief flare of white light before going quiet again, and she smiles in relief.)

Luna: Thank you.

(Cut to the six; Applejack and Rainbow have changed out of their superhero outfits.)

Luna: (from o.s.) Thank you all.

(Fade to white.)

(Fade in to a long shot of the castle. It is now sunrise of the following morning in the real world, and a rooster’s crow rings out across the stillness. The light effects from Luna’s spell have dissipated. Cut to Twilight asleep in bed; she wakes up with a protracted gasp and sits up for a look around the bedchamber. Spike and the other five mares are still completely zonked out, Rarity having donned her sleep mask, and there is no sign of Luna, the threads of her spell, or the mares’ fatigue from the previous bad night’s sleep. All now speak at normal volume, there being no wind as in the dream.)

Twilight: Luna did it!

(The six wake up, Rarity lifting her mask; cut to Fluttershy’s end of the semicircle and pan to Applejack. Fluttershy/Pinkie rub their eyes, Rarity smiles, Rainbow yawns, and Applejack gets her hat settled on her noggin.)

Applejack: She sure did. Only, I’m not exactly sure what she did. (Back to Twilight.)

Twilight: Luna created the Tantabus to punish herself. The worse she felt, the more power it had. (Spike climbs up next to her.) But once she finally forgave herself for what Nightmare Moon did…

Spike: Poof!

Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Shhhh!

(Cut to her, pointing down over the foot of her bed with a smile, then to an overhead shot of the room. This angle reveals the Princess of the Night sound asleep in the center of the floor, lying on some cushions with head resting on forelegs.)

Spike: Huh.

(Extreme close-up of the winged unicorn’s peacefully composed, smiling face; zoom in slowly.)

Spike: (from o.s.) Wonder what she’s dreaming about now.

(The background behind her dissolves to a different place, and the camera zooms out to frame it in detail. Luna now lies on a couch, positioned on a small island that stands in a tranquil bay or lake under a moonlit sky. Giant, softly glowing flowers shed a gentle light on her form, and other vegetation growths on the cliffs at the shoreline add their own illuminating ambience as a waterfall pours down in the background. Fade to black.)