CANTERLOT BOUTIQUE

Written by Amy Keating Rogers

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by Meghan McCarthy

Consulting direction by Jayson Thiessen

Supervising direction by Jim Miller

Directed by Denny Lu

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Note:                   All ponies other than the six main characters are unicorns unless otherwise noted.

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of several rolls of fabric on the shelves of the storage rack in Rarity’s workspace/living quarters, on the upper story of the Carousel Boutique. As several of these are floated free in her magic, the camera zooms out to frame the morning sky through the window. Cut to her, reading glasses on and hooves serenely stepping across the room; she stops and glances upward after a few paces, and the camera pans/tilts up quickly to a clock high on the wall. It is 9:00 sharp, and she lets all the fabric hit the floor and darts over to stare eagerly out the window, mashing her nose on the glass. When nothing happens for a long moment, she turns glumly away and regards the clock again, seeing the minute hand click ahead one notch. Voicing a deflated sigh, she crosses to her sewing machine and begins running a length of material through it. She begins to hum to herself, but stops dead with a panicked gasp at the sound of a bell ringing; the happy expectancy returns to her face as soon as it fled.)

Rarity: Was that the pony post?

(She whirls to look behind herself, the camera panning slightly to show her cat Opalescence playing with a toy mouse—the source of the noise. Down go her spirits again.)

Rarity: Oh. It’s just you, Opal.

(The fluffy feline stands up with a grumble, gets the plaything in her mouth, and stalks off.)

Rarity: (moaning, pacing) Every other day he’s here like clockwork, but not today. (Zoom in slowly on the window.) What could possibly be holding him up?

(Stop on an extreme close-up of the panes, just in time for Pinkie Pie to pop up outside and mash her face against them.)

Pinkie: (slightly muffled) Strawberry-cinnamon-cilantro salutations!

(She drops out of sight, the camera zooming out quickly to frame the disbelieving unicorn.)

Rarity: What? (Pinkie zips into view behind her…)

Pinkie: “What,” indeed. (…then away to stop near the bed.) I bet you’re wondering what warrants such a welcome. Well, that welcome is warranted by a pony that whisked up a warm batch of strawberry-cinnamon-cilantro cupcakes!

(She produces one on the end of this line, then pitches the whole thing into her mouth and chomps down, letting it bulge her cheeks out. Her facial expression suggests that it does not sit too well with her.)

Pinkie: That strangely sickening flavor combination sounds just as bad as it tastes.

(But she forces herself to swallow it and lets her crumb-coated tongue loll out of her mouth, the poofy magenta mane deflating noticeably at the same time. Cut to the unimpressed Rarity as a plate of these questionable treats is held into view toward her.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) So I came here to offer you some.

Rarity: After that visually descriptive and disturbing endorsement, I’ll pass. (She pushes them away; cut to Pinkie, her mane back to normal.)

Pinkie: Oh! (eyeing underside of plate; something is stuck to it) I almost forgot!

(As she continues, she flips the cupcakes away and spins the plate to show the item as an envelope.)

Pinkie: I have this letter for you, Rarity. (pulling it off) The post pony was going to deliver it— (Cut to Rarity; she continues o.s., holding it out and yanking it back as the latter tries to grab it.) —but after a strawberry-cinnamon-cilantro cupcake— (To both.) —he was feeling kinda queasy. (holding it out, yanking it back from Rarity) And since I was heading over anyway, I figured I could do it for him.

(To the designer once again; the pink hoof holds out the correspondence once more, but does not pull it away this time.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) There you go.

Rarity: (seizing it) Ooh!

(She rips the envelope open with enough force to send shreds flying everywhere, then mumbles to herself as she reads quickly through the letter inside while sitting on her haunches. Pinkie passes the time by picking up one of her cupcakes, pulling it into her mouth with her tongue, and chomping with gusto.  When Rarity reaches the end of the letter, she utters a shuddery, smiling cry and claps a front hoof to her forehead.)

Pinkie: (mouth full) What’s it say?

Rarity: I GOT IT!!

Pinkie: (turning cartwheels; mouth empty) Woo-hoo! (zipping back) Got what?

(During the previous, Rarity stands up, trots giddily in place, and floats the letter at eye level. Next she gasps excitedly and the camera zooms in slowly on her.)

Rarity: I have been holding out for the perfect location and it finally became available! So now I can fulfill my dream of opening a boutique in Canterlot!

(On the end of this, zoom out quickly to show that Pinkie has cleared out; she pops up in the foreground with a happy squeal.)

Pinkie: (ducking away, then hopping past Rarity) I’m so excited, I think I’m gonna lose my cupcakes!

(She freezes in midair, clapping hooves to mouth as her cheeks bulge out—her digestive system has rebelled—and bails out in a pink blur. Cut to just outside the room’s window, framing Rarity eyeing the letter one last time; she looks up from it and grins broadly. Zoom out slowly and fade to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to the sky above the Canterlot train station and tilt down to platform level as a train pulls in. Twilight Sparkle, the rest of her Ponyville friends, and Spike emerge, Rainbow Dash flying above the others.)

Twilight: Rarity’s such a savvy business-pony. I’m so impressed she used the huge bonus she earned making the costumes for Sapphire Shores’ Equestria-wide tour to open this second boutique!

(A reference to the events of “For Whom the Sweetie Belle Toils.” Cut to the upper reaches of a building whose general shape recalls that of the ornate tents that stand in the grasslands near the Canterlot Boutique. The roof is purple, the walls white with accents in light shades of violet to resemble draperies, and a light blue crystal heart hangs above and between the gold-framed second-story windows. The magenta front door stands on a stoop, between a pair of expansive ground-floor windows framed in purple; it is set with a large, heart-shaped pane of glass, and a two-tone violet awning is mounted above it. This is Canterlot Carousel, Rarity’s new boutique. Cut to the showroom inside and pan slowly across the space. The five visiting mares and one dragon voice reactions of surprise, having gathered in front of a table loaded with refreshments. A staircase leads up to a balcony, racks of dresses are set up on both levels, and balloons and banners are present in abundance, including one decorated with Rarity’s profile. In addition, a curtained platform stands opposite the staircase, elevated off the floor by a couple of steps. Rarity has removed her glasses.)

Rarity: I take it from your reaction that you like the boutique? (Cut to Fluttershy.)

Fluttershy: It’s lovely!

Applejack: (stepping toward her) Gosh, Rarity. I know hard work when I see it, and it looks like you worked your hooves to the nub! (Fluttershy nods under the end of this.)

Pinkie: (from o.s.) I don’t know.

(Cut to her, hunched down and lifting one of Rarity’s forelegs for a good close look.)

Pinkie: Those hooves don’t look nubby. (Zoom out quickly to frame both; she stands up.) They look scrubbied, and buffied, and pedi-ed! (She lowers the hoof.)

Rarity: Well, despite my…nubby, scrubby, buffy pony pedi, I actually have been working very hard. However, I never could have gotten the boutique ready for the grand opening without the help of my new manager… (Zoom out quickly to frame all seven; she gestures across the room.) …Sassy Saddles!

(Cut to a close-up of four long, light blue legs stepping ahead. A gently curling, two-tone orange tail hangs into view behind them, and the edge of a gold-accented outfit in two shades of deep purple can be seen as well. A tilt up frames all of Sassy Saddles, a tall, slender mare whose face/head are partly hidden behind the clipboard she floats in front of herself. The outfit is a short dress whose shoulders and hem are styled to resemble flower petals, and which sports a jeweled gold saddle. Her cutie mark is hidden by the skirt, and her eyes are a light orange with dark blue shadow. The style and color of the mane match the tail, and a lowering of the clipboard discloses a streak of magenta on the inside of the portion that curls away from the side of her head. When she fully directs her gaze toward the room, she smiles and speaks in a cultured British accent.)

Sassy: Bust my buttons, Rarity! The ponies from Ponyville! (A round of greetings from all but Rarity.)

Rarity: I knew I needed a manager for Canterlot Carousel, so when Sassy showed me her résumé and I saw that she worked in all of the finest boutiques in Canterlot, I hired her right on the spot.

Sassy: (floating up a long, folded-up sheet) I then made out this plan, or “pattern” as we say in the fashion biz, for Canterlot Carousel— (Cut to a slow pan across the other seven; she continues o.s.) —so that Rarity’s boutique will be a guaranteed success— (Back to her.) —and those doors will never, ever, ever close!

Twilight: (crossing to her) Wow, Sassy! Your attention to detail is truly impressive.

Sassy: I’ve already put a pin in the first piece of the pattern—“Beautify the Boutique”!

(During the previous line, the camera tilts up to the levitating document, which unfolds to show its first section: a picture of the building, with a pin stuck through it—and then cuts to a zoom out that frames the entire room.)

Sassy: But next was the very crucial pattern piece…

(Close-up of the sheet; her magic unfolds the next bit, a blaring bullhorn aimed toward a group of listeners.)

Sassy: (from o.s.) …“Marketing to the Mares”! (Cut to her.) Turns out that everypony here loves royalty!

Rarity: So I created a collection that beautifully revolves around the royal element of Canterlot.

Sassy: (crossing to Twilight) And it just so happens there’s a hot new princess in Equestria.

(Said princess is slightly thrown off by this sudden mention of her status.)

Rarity: In every poll Sassy Saddles took, you were the most popular princess. (Sassy walks off.) Coincidentally, one of my gowns is inspired by the window in Canterlot Castle commemorating your coronation!

(She ends this line with a gesture across the showroom; cut to Sassy, now standing on the front edge of the curtained platform. Rarity’s magic slides the drapery back to expose a pony mannequin, which is brought forward as she steps up on the other side. Designer and manager proudly point out the gown it wears: translucent skirt transitioning from blue-green to blue-violet through its three layers, dark blue-green material at the short sleeves, small gems and criss-crossing seams arranged throughout to suggest a stained-glass window. Pale blue wings are attached at the shoulders. As appreciative comments are heard from o.s.; cut to the six onlookers moving a bit closer. During the next line, Pinkie looks intently at something out of view and zips off after it.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) Well, I’ve always prided myself on paying attention to detail. (Cut to her.) I’ve taken my latest collection to a whole new level with Rarity’s Rules of TLC.

Pinkie: (from o.s.) Judging by this baby—

(Pan quickly to an adjoining doorway; she rolls into view through this, riding a mannequin on a wheeled stand. It sports a half-finished yellow/deep-gold/brown outfit with a shaded blue skirt edged in white tufts to resemble a waterfall, and it wears a headpiece built as a solar system model. A workroom can be seen through the doorway.)

Pinkie: —“TLC” stands for “Tasty Licorice Candy”!

(She slides off the rump, landing on her haunches and pulling the skirt off so that it lands draped over her head.)

Rarity: (from o.s., floating it back into place) “TLC” stands for “Time, Love, and Couture.” (Cut to frame all of the Ponyville contingent; Pinkie stands up.) And while I do agree that this dress has potential, I’ve not had enough time to give it enough love to become couture.

(Back to Pinkie on this last word; the incomplete getup is magically rolled back into the workroom and the door closed.)

Rarity: But the rest of the gowns in tonight’s line have met Rarity’s Rules and are ready to be presented.

Sassy: (stepping down to floor, horn lit) My marketing research also confirmed that customers that viewed somepony famous wearing a gown wish to own that gown for themselves.

(Surprise plays across Rarity’s face at this bit of input. Zoom out as Sassy unfurls most of the remainder of her folded business plan drawing for all to see. There are three more drawings beyond the two already seen; in order, these consist of Rarity’s face within the outline of a gold star, a magazine cover featuring her, and Twilight wearing the stained-glass-design gown.)

Sassy: I call this piece of the pattern “Celebrity Status”!

(Close-up of the star/face drawing on these last two words, then cut to Twilight/Applejack/Rainbow/Spike as Pinkie rejoins them.)

Rarity: (from o.s., nervously) So, Twilight… (Cut to her.) …we were wondering if perhaps you might possibly wear this tonight?

(Pan slightly to frame Sassy’s sidelong, hopeful gaze in the fore, the focus shifting to her, then cut to Twilight.)

Twilight: If being a princess and wearing that dress can help your boutique in any way— (floating a pin up) —then I say, “Stick a pin in it! It’s done!”

(On the end of this, tilt up to the floating sheet, putting her o.s. as the pin drives itself into the star’s topmost point.)

Sassy: All right, everypony— (magically pushing mannequin back, closing platform curtains) —let’s set the stage! (Pan to Rarity, now on the showroom floor.)

Rarity: Ever since I was a little filly, all I’ve ever wanted was to own a boutique here in Canterlot. Somepony pinch me! (crossing floor) I am about to open the doors to that very boutique!

(She finishes with a giddy gasp. Cut to just outside the closed front door, which swings open to reveal her standing just inside. Before she can get a single word out, Sassy whisks up to crowd her back off the stoop, so that she has to hunker down in order to get any view of the street.)

Sassy: Welcome to the grand opening of Canterlot Carousel!

(Zoom out on the end of this to frame the throngs of ponies who have congregated here. The store’s name echoes slightly over their heads and is met with an enthusiastic cheer. Inside, Rarity recoils a bit toward the others, her mind blown over having her thunder so unexpectedly stolen. Snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to Sassy standing just inside the doorway as prospective customers file in past her.)

Sassy: Oh, hello! (chuckling) Nice to see you. Welcome, welcome! (Cut to a perplexed Rarity; she continues o.s.) Oh, I’m so happy you could be— (Zoom out slowly; Applejack eases up alongside.)

Applejack: That Sassy totally stepped on your hooves, Rarity! (Pinkie leans into view opposite her.)

Pinkie: Oh, no! (grabbing/eyeing Rarity’s foreleg) Did she mess up that nice pony pedi?

(There being no obvious damage to the limb in question, she pats it with a smile and relieved sigh.)

Pinkie: Okay. (Set it down…) Phew! (…and duck out of sight.)

Rarity: Oh, I…don’t think she meant to.

Sassy: (from o.s.) Rarity! (Cut to her, walking over.) Are you ready to reveal the collection?

Applejack: (softly, to Rainbow) Is she sure she doesn’t want to do it herself?

Rainbow: (softly, snickering) Yeah.

Rarity: Yes, I am. Uh, Fluttershy, could you help Twilight get ready?

Fluttershy: Oh, certainly.

(She walks off and Rarity glances across the showroom floor, the camera cutting to frame the crowd of shoppers, some of whom are taking advantage of the proffered snacks. Two grip cameras in their magic.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) Fillies and gentle-colts! (Picture taken; cut to her on the platform.) I am designer and couturier Rarity! I would like to welcome you, again— (Chuckle; overhead shot of the room.) —to the grand opening of Canterlot Carousel— (Close-up.) —and I’m thrilled that you are here to see my newest collection inspired by this regal city.

(Zoom out to frame the entire platform on the end of this, after which the curtains slide open to reveal four mannequins tricked out in an assortment of gowns. From left to right, they are as follows. Dark blue skirt speckled with white stars and an edging of larger spots to suggest asteroids; darker blue, short-sleeved blouse with a white crescent moon, stars, and pearls at collar and shoulders; blue-violet bow behind the neck with matching edging at sleeve cuffs. Short, medium green skirt that lightens toward the hem; long under-layer in light blue with white cloud-like edging; light blue band around midsection; a sunburst brooch securing a pair of wings and a small violet collar; pink winged shoes on forelegs. High-collared, medium blue blouse with long sleeves and marked by leaf/rose patterns amid small pale gems cut as bubbles; skirt in shades of light green with more such gems; short white over-skirt designed as an open flower. Long magenta skirt marked with yellow stars; yellow/black belt at midsection; short magenta sleeves with a spiral-striped piece across the chest; small matching “fascinator” hat with a short veil attached.)

(Appreciative murmurs drift in her direction; cut to Sassy amid the crowd and zoom in on her as a flashbulb pops. She throws a calculating little grin toward the platform and gets her horn working, floating the four mannequins up off the platform and bringing them past Rarity. The latter shows marked surprise—evidently this was not in the playbook—and watches as the outfits describe a slow circle over the spectators’ heads. The maneuvers expose dark blue, star-speckled shoes on the forelegs of the moon dress; each is set with a white crescent. Rolling her eyes with a measure of disgust, Rarity does her best to regain her composure and steps down off the platform, the camera following until the profile of a stallion’s face comes into view. Dark blue-green coat; red plaid kerchief around neck; blue eyes behind large, tinted square glasses which he frequently raises/lowers with his magic; a fringe of two-tone gray mane hanging into view. This is Fashion Plate, whose flamboyant voice stops Rarity in her tracks.)

Fashion: Rarity! I’m—

(Close-up of him, tilting slowly up from hooves to head and showing his cutie mark of three yellow stars. The mane and tail are cut short, and the mane is neatly styled.)

Rarity: (stepping into view) —Fashion Plate of Cosmare magazine! (He grins at this.) I’m so honored that Cosmare was able to do a piece on the grand opening of my boutique! (Gasp.)

Fashion: Well, when Sassy Saddles calls saying she’s found the latest and greatest in fashion, we hightail without fail! Now tell me all about your latest collection.

Rarity: Ooh! Uh, it’s called “Rarity’s Royal Regalia.”

Fashion: (gasping) Royally radiant! (Cameras snap behind him.)

Rarity: My favorite part of being a designer is finding my inspiration— (Cut to Sassy; she continues o.s.) —and that really wasn’t difficult when it came to Canterlot.

(The manager warms up another spell on the end of this; back on the platform, a large framed painting of the city’s tower rooftops descends into view under her control. Rarity does not immediately notice as it touches down behind her; she gets a bit of a mental jolt once she does, but quickly recovers. The coloration and star/stripe patterns correspond to those on the starred gown.)

Rarity: Everywhere I looked, the royal city just spoke to me. (The outfit is floated down to her.) I call it “In-Spire-Ation.” (Awed murmurs.)

Fashion: (from o.s.) Genius! (Cut to him.) Simply genius!

(Cameras click as Sassy smiles serenely. Another bit of magic shifts the painting and this mannequin away and brings over a banner striped in four pastel shades of yellow/blue/green and dotted with water lilies. The bubbly blue/green gown accompanies it. As before, Rarity is caught out by the unexpected change, but swiftly gets back to an even keel.)

Rarity: I spent hours by the lily pond on the castle grounds, which inspired this gown, “Water Filly.” (More murmurs.)

Fashion: Oh, the whimsy!

Rarity: Watching Celestia raise the sun each morning literally lit up my day.

(Shafts of golden light shine down on her at an angle as she finishes; it takes her a moment to fully wrap her head around their presence and get her smile back on.)

Rarity: This is…

(Pan/tilt up from her to the source, a glowing sun that is a large-scale copy of Princess Celestia’s cutie mark. The blue/green cloud-styled gown is levitated into view under Sassy’s control as the radiance fades away.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) …“Tripping the Light.” (Murmurs from ground level; cut to Fashion.)

Fashion: Fantastic!

(A camera goes off just before all the lights dim, and Rarity climbs to the platform with a giggle.)

Rarity: And of course, Luna raising the moon guided me to sleep. (Sassy’s magic brings silver stars down on strings.) I call this…

(The lights dim further; pan to show a large, glowing crescent moon hanging alongside in place of the previous backdrops. Standing within its curve is the mannequin with the moon/star dress.)

Rarity: …“Over the Moon.” (Another round of murmurs; cut to Fashion.)

Fashion: Well, I certainly am! (Laugh; the lights come back up.)

Rarity: And for our finale, I have something very special. I was inspired by the stained-glass window created in honor of Princess Twilight.

(Cut to a close-up of an enraptured Fashion and zoom in slowly as the flashes pop behind him.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) So I call this… (Back to her.) …“The Reign in Stain”!

Fashion: Because the dress is inspired by the— (They lean toward each other, cheek to cheek.)

Rarity, Fashion: —stained-glass window of a reigning princess! (Double gasp.)

Rarity: Yes!

Sassy: (from o.s., disdainfully) Oh, well— (Cut to frame her as well.) —I think “The Reign in Stain” is too difficult to explain— (Airy chuckle.) —especially for the signature piece of a collection.

Rarity: But I rather like the— (Sassy steps up in front of her, all smiles again.)

Sassy: Fillies and gentle-colts! (crossing floor; cameras flash) I, Sassy Saddles, am pleased to introduce the grand finale of the grand opening of Rarity’s Royal Regalia!

(Stopping at the foot of the staircase, she gestures grandly up toward the balcony in close-up and warms up her horn.)

Sassy: The Princess Dress!

(On the end of this, the camera pans/tilts up quickly to the top of the stairs and all the lights go out, but there is enough illumination to identify the silhouette here as a fully dressed Twilight. A spotlight picks her out in the stained-glass gown, the tiny gems throwing shafts of reflected light everywhere. As she smiles proudly with head held high, Fashion lets his jaw, ears, and glasses drop and his eyes bug out. He goggles at the sight for perhaps two full seconds before snapping back to himself with a smile and gasp. The lights have come back up by this point.)

Fashion: Success!

(That sets off a round of very happy exclamations among the crowd; Twilight smiles and waves bashfully down at them, but Rarity’s face shows only confusion and a shot of dismay. She rapidly gets it rearranged into a supporting smile in time for Twilight to descend the stairs.)

Sassy: (from o.s.) Everypony… (Cut to her, floating up her clipboard.) …please follow me, and you can all place your orders for… (Zoom out slightly to frame Twilight.) …the Princess Dress! (Murmurs as she walks off; Fashion eases up next to Rarity.)

Fashion: Rarity, I want to be the first pony to congratulate you. And the Princess Dress has just guaranteed Canterlot Carousel’s success!

(He pulls in a gasp and walks off toward the crowd, which has concentrated itself near a counter. Sassy stands here, magically running a quill across her clipboard to keep up with the clamoring customers. As Rarity steps down from the platform, Spike and all her friends but Twilight cross to her with a babel of congratulatory words. The Princess in attendance joins them after a moment.)

Twilight: Yeah! Rarity’s Royal Regalia is amazing, and everypony seemed to love the Princess Dress. (Rarity rolls her eyes with a humoring smile.)

Sassy: (from o.s.) You bet your saddle they did! (crossing to them, floating up a thick stack of pages) Rarity now has one hundred orders for her signature gown!

(That bit of news causes the white unicorn’s jaw to drop in pure shock. It also leaves her stammering for a long moment before she can get any intelligible words out.)

Rarity: One hundred orders? All at one time?

Sassy: According to my pattern, the next piece is “The Success of the Signature Dress.” So I do not see the problem.

(But the very dirty look and dangerously twitching eye on Rarity’s face tell a very different story. The camera pans away from her and shifts its focus to the rest of the Ponyville crew, save Pinkie, at the snack table and not meeting Sassy’s eyes.)

Applejack: (to the others) Uh…

(There follows an uncomfortable silence, which gets splintered when Pinkie pops up behind the table, holding a…)

Pinkie: Cupcake?

(That gets them all moving in her general direction. Pan back to Rarity, who smiles gratefully at the distraction and then shifts her gaze to Sassy, sternly clearing her throat.)

Rarity: First of all, Sassy Saddles, I would have appreciated getting to name the final gown from my collection myself.

Sassy: (chuckling) My research shows that your “Reign in Stain” name was a play on words that was both very confusing and quite unappealing.

Rarity: (chuckling) While I see your point, we should have discussed it prior to the grand opening, Sassy.

Sassy: (contritely) My only goal is for Canterlot Carousel to succeed. That’s why I changed the name, and that is why I took all those orders for the Princess Dress.

Rarity: (stammering) But…but receiving orders for one hundred dresses in one day, it…i-i-it’s just too much, too soon!

Sassy: (hamming it up) Are you actually saying we should…cancel these orders?

Rarity: (stammering) No, no, Sassy. Promises were made, and…and I shall sew my very best to provide each and every pony a Princess Dress full of TLC. (Her face falls on the end of this.)

Sassy: (tapping Rarity’s chest, hugging her) Oh, thank you, Rarity! Thank you!

(The dressmaker makes herself smile long enough for the manager to break the embrace and walk away, then slumps with a weary sigh—“what have I gotten myself into?” Dissolve to the exterior of the boutique; Rarity watches from one of the showroom windows as her friends wave goodbye and depart. Twilight is no longer wearing the Princess Dress. Rarity returns the wave, the camera cutting to just inside.)

Sassy: (from o.s.) Oh, satin and silk, Rarity! (Rarity turns away from the window.) Are you sure you don’t want your friends to help you make the dresses?

Rarity: (crossing past her) No, Sassy. These orders are my responsibility.

(Cut to a slow pan across the workroom, bringing her into view during the next line.)

Rarity: All I have to do is stick to my plan so I can deliver each and every Princess Dress, in keeping with my Rules of Rarity!

(The glow of her horn accompanies the end of this, and rolls of fabric float out from the shelves under her command.)

Gentle melody with light percussion, moderate 4 (D major)

Woodwinds/strings/mandolin/bass in at start

Acoustic guitar/bass take over once first verse begins

(One of them, light blue-green, unrolls to fill the screen, and a pair of scissors quickly snips its way across. The cut section falls away to expose two document trays side by side—one red, stacked high, marked with an empty square; the other green, empty, with a checked square: IN and OUT boxes. Behind them, the remaining cloth fades away to show Rarity seated on a stool and working intently at a sewing machine in the workroom. The only light comes from the window at which she sits. She has her glasses on.)

Rarity:                The Rules of Rarity, guaranteed quality, this I can assure

(A length of fabric floats across, filling the screen; behind it, wipe to her draping a piece onto a bare mannequin as the start of a Princess Dress skirt. Full lights on.)

                            For each and every dress, I vow to give finesse

(Here comes the upper layer to fill the screen; gems are magically set in place and a needle brought in to stitch them on. Pan to Rarity.)

                            With time, love, and couture

Woodwinds/strings/mandolin/snare drum in

(A wavering dissolve shifts the view to the building exterior, with mares gathering at the windows. One walks past the camera; behind her, wipe to just inside, framing the eager faces gazing intently through the glass. Pan to one mare walking in, her face brightening as she notices a finished dress on display; Rarity steps out from behind it, her glasses off.)

Woodwinds/strings/mandolin out

Rarity:                My favorite moment’s when a pony sees it

(She smiles to herself as the shopper, now wearing the garment, regards her image in a mirror.)

                            That special gown that she just adores

(She sweeps past the camera, the view wiping behind her to an overhead shot of the showroom and framing her circling happily in place. Zoom in as she picks up speed to become a blur.)

Woodwinds/strings in

                            That pony’s now in style, my hard work’s all worthwhile

(Dissolve to an extreme close-up of a twirling parasol, which she lifts away; now she stands on a Canterlot street. Zoom out as a kneeling stallion gently lifts one of her front hooves and kisses it; two others behind her hold flowers and a box of candy, and she beams over the attention.)

                            Oh, yes, it makes my heart, my heart just soar

Mandolin in

All percussion out after two bars

Modulate through several keys to E major

Tempo slows; mood saddens greatly

(Another wavering dissolve brings Rarity back into view in the workroom, her glasses on. She is shaken out of her reverie by Sassy’s business-plan drawing floating in through the doorway behind her; turning toward it, she spots the manager eyeing her impassively. Sassy glances back toward the showroom as a couple of mares enter; Rarity starts away from her sewing machine with a broad smile, but a flurry of materials and supplies levitated by Sassy blocks her from getting any closer to the door—more work to be done. Sassy motions for her to get back on the job, then turns away as the items settle onto the counter.)

(The fashion expert smiles to herself; meanwhile, Sassy is now talking with the two mares. She floats the In-Spire-Ation and Over the Moon dresses, displayed on the platform, out of view and brings out the Princess Dress to their visible delight. Zoom out through the workroom doorway; Rarity watches these events with some dismay before turning back to the machine. A dissolve frames her in profile, having lost both her enthusiasm and the vibrancy of her purple mane/tail. Another one brings up a slow pan across row on row of mannequins identically garbed in the signature creation.)

Bass out

Rarity:                The Rules of Rarity, just a parody, no dress here’s unique

(Dissolve to a pan down a block outside the boutique; every mare here is wearing one, and she watches from the window.)

                            The panels all the same, each colored windowpane

(Zoom in on her.)

                            I fashion only makes me want to shriek

(She drops out of sight. To the sound of a heavy sigh, the view dissolves to a close-up of her despondent expression; she sits slumped over the counter, glasses off and eyes closed, but with the life restored to her mane color. A multicolored shaft of light makes its way across, hitting her eyes and snapping her back to the here and now.)

Mandolin out; tempo and mood brighten

Modulate to G major, then F major and back

Rarity:                Oh, to create would give me elation

(Lifting her head, she finds the light being refracted through bowls of brightly colored gems before her and striking a Princess Dress on a mannequin. The room is again dark except for the window light.)

                            To feel once again some inspiration

(A smile steals across her face, overhead view of the bowls as she plunges her hooves in and gleefully tosses their contents up toward the camera. A sparkling red one fills the screen.)

                            Come on now, Rarity, give me some clarity

                            Time for your couture love to rule

Snare drum/bass in (F major)

(It floats away again, the background behind it having changed to a stretch of Princess Dress material. This gem and several others—all lozenge-shaped—are magically set in place and stitched on; Rarity has her glasses on and her spirits high. Full lights are on.)

Rarity:                The Rules of Rarity, extra TLC, this feels more sublime

(She pulls the cloth past the camera; behind it, wipe to a mannequin being clothed in all the parts.)

                            Soon now they will see how good things can be with a little extra shine

(Gems rain down past the camera; behind them, wipe to a semicircle of first-run Princess Dresses. The modified dress is levitated over to stand in front of the others, and she gallops up to lift it by the forelegs, her glasses off. Room dim again.)

                            The Rules of Rarity, guaranteed quality, all can see it’s true

(She swings it in a circle, the view wiping behind it to a close-up of her and then cutting to her perspective of the dummy.)

                            These new gems add such flair, their beauty can’t compare

(Overhead shot, zooming out slowly. She twirls it in the circle of light, sending up scatters of scintillating radiance from the new adornments.)

                            This old style suddenly gleams anew

(The glow expands to fill the screen with white as she vocalizes one last note.)

Song ends

(Fade in to a close-up of a bell hanging inside, above the front door. Said door swings open to set it off, and the camera cuts to just behind a mare walking in. Pale pinkish-gray coat; short, straight mane/tail in two shades of deep red, with a two-tone shock of pink in the mane; cutie mark of two red chili peppers and three seeds. Rarity is in the workroom, her glasses back on her nose and her attention on the modified dress in front of her; cut to a close-up, framing Sassy partly in view off to one side. The lights have returned to normal. Pan to Sassy, marking off items on her clipboard, on the start of the next line; the motion puts Rarity o.s.)

Rarity: Is that the customer who ordered this Princess Dress?

(Sassy glances up on the end of this; cut to her perspective of the new arrival, now levitating a pocket watch for a closer look. This shot reveals her eyes as bright pink-violet with light blue shadow. Back to Sassy.)

Sassy: I’ll take care of her. You keep working.

Rarity: Uh, actually, I’d love to see her reaction to this particular dress.

Sassy: (rolling eyes) Paisley and poplin, Rarity!

(Pan away from her to the IN and OUT boxes on a nearby counter, the former still has a healthy stack of orders, while the sloppily piled latter outnumbers it perhaps two to one.)

Sassy: (from o.s.) Look at all the orders you still have to finish. (walking into view) And you want to take a break? Now?

Rarity: (as Sassy crosses past her) Well…it’s just…I made some really lovely changes to this dress. (The manager rounds on her, suddenly panicked; she rears up to avoid getting stepped on.)

Sassy: You did what? (Rarity settles back to all fours.) But every Princess Dress is supposed to be exactly the same!

Rarity: Yes, yes, I know. But these gems just spoke to me and—

Sassy: (disdainfully) Fine. Go see her reaction.

(To which Rarity responds with a beaming smile. Cut to the pepper mare, looking over a rack of Princess Dresses, and zoom out on the start of the next line to frame Rarity entering the showroom.)

Rarity: Hello! (She floats her glasses away…) And welcome to Canterlot Carousel. I’m so pleased to present to you your— (…and floats in the new dress.)

Pepper mare: (excitedly) —Princess Dress! Finally! I’ve been simply desperate to get this ever since I saw Princess Twilight wearing it at your—

(It is shifted closer to her on the end of this line, and she exerts her field to take over from Rarity’s. Once she gets a good look, though, her mood shifts from elation to suspicion without even touching the clutch.)

Pepper mare: Wait a minute. There’s something…different.

(Zoom in to an extreme close-up of the new gems, then cut to Rarity.)

Rarity: Well, as an artiste, I did take the liberty to change a few minor details.

(Back to the customer, who aims a quizzically cocked eyebrow her way, on the end of this.)

Rarity: I— (Nervous chuckle.) —I saw these gems glistening in the light, and they just spoke to me. Aren’t they lovely? And so unique!

Pepper mare: (sighing impatiently) They’re…fine. But they’re not what I ordered… (Zoom in to a close-up.) …are they?

Rarity: (deflated, stammering a bit, hanging head) Uh, no. No, they’re not.

 Pepper mare: I want the dress to be exactly like the one Princess Twilight wore! Understand?

(On the end of this, she levitates an open magazine forward to show a two-page photo, then lets it drop on the last word. The picture is of Twilight, smiling and waving in her Princess Dress against a sparkly background of trailing stripes to match the three colors of her mane/tail. A large white P and D stand out from the lines of text.)

Rarity: Yes… (horn glowing) …y-ye-yes, of course.

Sad acoustic guitar/string melody, reprise of second verse (“My favorite…”)

Slow 4 (C major)

(She plods back toward the workroom, the revamped and rejected outfit held in her aura, and passes a concerned Sassy at the doorway. Cut to inside a scrap bin, the camera pointing straight up at the opening, as Rarity glumly lets it drop in to black out the screen. Fade in to the IN and OUT boxes, orders floating from former to latter one at a time.)

Rarity:                The Rules of Rarity once stood for something

(Dissolve to her, glasses on and dispiritedly stitching up one Mark One Princess Dress after another as they float onto the mannequin in front of her. Each is sent away as soon as it is finished.)

                            But now it feels just like some factory

(Dissolve to a line of mares in the showroom. Each steps up beneath a suspended round curtain, which Sassy quickly lowers and raises by pulling a rope, and emerges wearing one of the garments. The manager has her clipboard in her magical grip.)

                            Now every dress I make, with every flaw and mistake

(Dissolve to the front stoop, from which the freshly attired mares emerge, then to a close-up of a despairing Rarity.)

Brass sneaks in

                            Oh, how it makes my heart, my heart just break

(Her ears droop as the camera zooms out slowly into the showroom; she stands at the workroom door, and her magic closes it to hide both her, and the tears that have started to drip down her face, from view.)

Song ends on an ominous, swelling low brass note

(Snap to black at the same time.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to the workroom and zoom in on Rarity, seated on the stool and running her sewing machine. A few strands of her mane have sprung out of place. Behind her, the IN box is completely empty and the OUT untidily stacked high. A close-up picks out the deep distaste and fatigue that now saturate her countenance; she finishes a bit of stitching and whisks the cloth out from under the needle, past the camera; behind the trailing edge, the view wipes to a row of Princess Dresses on a rack. Pan quickly to the end as one more is floated over and hung up; next one last sheet rises out of the IN box—hidden by its raised edges—and comes to rest atop the OUT pile. Zoom out to frame the entire counter.)

Sassy: (from o.s., elated) Raving rickrack, Rarity! (jumping to Rarity, floating clipboard up to her face) You made two hundred Princess Dresses!

Rarity: (woodenly) Yes. (It is floated away.) Isn’t it spectacular.

Sassy: And I have a special surprise for you.

(She throws her forelegs around Rarity’s shoulders, then levitates a magazine over to them during the next line. Just as on her business plan, it features the stylish white unicorn on the cover.)

Sassy: The latest issue of Cosmare magazine just hit the stands. (Close-up of it.)

Rarity: (from o.s., reading with mild disbelief) “Canterlot’s Newest Rising Star.” (Back to the pair.)

Sassy: (crossing, moving magazine away) And in the hour since the magazine’s come out, we’ve gotten another hundred new orders for the Princess Dress!

(As she speaks, she telekinetically maneuvers a fresh mass of paperwork in from the showroom, shuts the door, and lets them slam down in the formerly empty IN box.)

Rarity: (dazedly) One…hundred more… (Cut to the boxes; she continues o.s. as a stray sheet settles down.) …Princess Dresses…

(Back to the two unicorns, one savoring this latest development and one ready to let its weight crush her off the stool and down to the floor. Zoom in slowly on the latter.)

Rarity: I’m the Cosmare cover pony. I have the most successful shop in Canterlot. (Sassy’s magic brings up the clipboard for a look.) I’ve gotten everything I ever wanted. But…I’m…miserable!

Sassy: (chuckling, dropping it) How could you possibly be miserable?

(She begins to pace, stopping near a bulletin board on which her business plan is tacked up. For the first time, its full length can be seen, showing one last picture beyond the one of Twilight in the Princess Dress.)

Sassy: My pattern is perfect!

(Close-up; she leans close to the picture of Rarity on a magazine cover.)

Sassy: “Cosmare Cover Pony.” (Magic drives a pin into it.) Done! (Step to the Twilight picture.) You have your signature gown— (Pin it.) —“The Princess Dress of Success”! (Cut to Rarity, rubbing her forehead.)

Rarity: I don’t want to make another hundred Princess Dresses!

Sassy: (from o.s., gasping happily) I have a piece for that!

(Close-up of the last drawing: six dress-clad mannequins, arranged in a double line on conveyor belts. Zoom out to frame Sassy standing alongside, floating up a third pin.)

Sassy: “Assemble the Assembly Line”! (Drive it home.) You’ll never have to sew again!

Rarity: (aghast) What? (She jumps off her stool.) No!

Sassy: Yes! (crossing room) Then the Canterlot Carousel never closes! And… (Cut to her, floating two dresses off the rack.) …Sassy Saddles’ boutique succeeds!

Rarity: (from o.s.) STOP!! (Cut to her.) This is not your boutique! (crossing to Sassy, magically snatching/throwing down dresses) And if this is what success in Canterlot looks like, I want no part of it!

(The white face leans into the blue one, eyes broadcasting such a venomous glare through the tinted lenses that the recipient has no choice but to quail before it.)

Rarity: Now, make up flyers for a “Going Out of Business” sale! (turning, walking off) I’m closing Canterlot Carousel!

Sassy: (panicked) What? N-N-No! Oh, you can’t, Rarity! I-I-I’ve worked too hard to make this a success! I-I-I can’t be a part of… (Zoom out through the workroom doorway.) …another failed boutique!

(Rarity’s magic pulls the door shut in front of her. Cut to just outside one showroom window; the fed-up fashionista strides through, glasses gone and mane back in order, and levitates the Princess Dress off a mannequin as she passes. She does the same to others when the view shifts to inside the shop; one floats toward the camera and is yanked away, and next she floats a number of dresses in varied other styles and colors from the workroom and deftly hangs them all up. Sassy, now on the balcony, can only watch in total confusion as the wares are arranged for viewing on both upper and lower levels. The banner that had showed Rarity’s profile has been taken down. Cut to a close-up of her on the start of the following; she is speaking to one of the outfits.)

Rarity: Ooh, don’t you look lovely. Nice to see you out here again.

(After a few steps across the floor, she stops and throws a sharp glance up toward the balcony, where Sassy gloomily averts her eyes without a word.)

Rarity: (pointedly, walking off) Seems Sassy Saddles isn’t rushing to open the door this time. Hmm.

(Cut to just outside the front door; her magic turns the knob and swings it open to expose her. As she speaks, zoom out to frame a few onlookers on the receiving end of her words.)

Rarity: Welcome to the “Going Out of Business” sale of Canterlot Carousel.

(She is very nearly trampled by a stampede of mares who waste no time in casting interested eyes of all colors over the goods. The slack-jawed look of shock on her face quickly gives way to a pleased little grin before an orange mare with a curly, two-tone violet mane comes up to her and speaks in a nasal voice.)

Orange mare: (levitating a flyer) Hey, is this Princess Dress on sale?

Rarity: Oh, no, I’m sorry, the Princess Dress has been discontinued. (gesturing about) But there are plenty of other lovely dresses on sale today.

(The Over the Moon dress is being inspected by a pale blue mare with a long, straight, deep blue mane/tail that curl up at the ends, with an additional curl around the base of her horn. Light brown eyes with dark blue shadow; cutie mark of a deep purple heart surrounded by four waves of blue energy aimed in toward it. She speaks in a low, throaty voice.)

Throaty mare: Whoa. This dress completely speaks to my soul. (Rarity approaches.) Can I try it on?

Rarity: (floating it up, letting her get it in her own magic) Certainly! (gesturing; she walks off) The dressing area is right back there. (Chuckle.)

(Elsewhere, the Tripping the Light dress has attracted the fancy of a bright pink mare with a messy, two-tone bright yellow mane/tail, light green eyes, and a yellow star surrounded by flecks of light as a cutie mark. Her voice is as perky as a Valley Girl after a dozen or so cups of coffee.)

Perky mare: This is the most amazing of amazing dresses! Just looking at it brightens my day!

(Rarity’s magic lifts it and the accompanying shoes off the mannequin and passes them over.)

Rarity: And I’m sure you’ll feel even brighter once you try it on.

(The perky mare trots off, levitating the lot; now a bespectacled, pale gray-white mare steps up. Dark blue-gray eyes, two-tone gray mane/tail, cutie mark of a drafting compass. A copy of Cosmare rides along in her aura.)

Drafting mare: (showing a page to Rarity) Do you still have this In-Spire-Ation dress that’s in the new issue of Cosmare?

Rarity: Oh, yes, I do. (Her field swiftly extracts this particular item from a rack.) It’s—it’s right here.

Drafting mare: Bats in the belfry! (taking hold, trotting off with it) I have to try it on.

(Close-up of a mirror, in which the reflection of the gowned throaty mare is captured.)

Throaty mare: Whoa. This dress makes me feel like a princess. (The perky one pops up alongside, wearing the one she chose.)

Perky mare: (throwing a foreleg around her shoulders) And this dress makes me feel like a princess!

(Sassy continues to watch, dumbstruck, from the balcony. Down below, a light yellow-orange mare speaks to Rarity: long two-tone orange mane, red-violet eyes, cutie mark of an open makeup compact. She gestures toward a gown rendered in two shades of pink.)

Makeup mare: This gown is quite beautiful, but it totally clashes with my complexion.

Rarity: (stroking chin) Hmmm… (stepping toward workroom) Perhaps you’d be even more taken with this one.

(She floats out a mannequin kitted out in the yellow/deep-gold/brown dress with waterfall skirt and solar-system headpiece that she put away as unfinished in Act One.)

Rarity: It was inspired by the fountain in the Canterlot Castle garden. (Close-up of it; tilting up from hooves to head; she continues o.s.) I call it “The Fountain of Truth.” (Back to the mare.)

Makeup mare: (rearing up excitedly, putting front hooves together) It’s exactly what I’ve been dreaming of!

Rarity: Oh! (Laugh.) Well, then, I’ll finish it. (She sends it back into the room.) And the gown shall be yours.

(The yellow-orange face comes over in an ecstatic smile as its owner trots away.)

Rarity: How can I have forgotten? This is what I have been dreaming about!

Same melody as second verse of Act Two song

Triumphant mood with brass, snare drum, woodwinds, strings; moderate 4 (D major)

(The revitalized designer walks through the knots of happy shoppers.)

Rarity:                My favorite moment’s when a pony sees it

(The throaty mare regards herself in the mirror, then smiles at Rarity.)

                            That special gown that she just adores

(The geeky blue-violet earth pony mare who briefed Spike in “Princess Spike” gets magically shoved into a fitting room and yanked out again. Now clad in a loose, light blue wrap dress, she eyes herself with wonder and breaks out in a bucktoothed smile.)

                            That pony’s now in style, my hard work’s all worthwhile

(Close-up of her, zooming out to a long overhead shot of the showroom.)

                            Oh, yes, it makes my heart, my heart just soar

Song ends

Rarity: Attention, everypony! Canterlot Carousel will not be closing! (Cut to a pan across the crowd, all cheering.)

Throaty mare: But this stuff’s still on sale, right? (Giggle from the o.s. Rarity; back to her.)

Rarity: Yes. Yes, of course. (Zoom out slowly.)

Sassy: (from o.s.) Oh, Rarity…

(The camera stops once she comes into view, reaching the foot of the stairs with a pair of saddlebags on her back.)

Sassy: …I’m so sorry. I focused on that one dress, and the rest of Rarity’s Royal Regalia paid the price.

Rarity: Well, so did the Princess Dress. The more I sewed, the more each dress lost its time, love, and couture, becoming terrible, lackluster, and common.

Sassy: I think I finally understand the Rules of Rarity— (walking off) —and will apply them at my next job.

Rarity: (affronted) I beg your pardon? The Rules of Rarity are only to be applied at Canterlot Carousel.

(These last few words freeze the blue hooves, and Rarity smiles as she makes her way across to the humbled manager.)

Rarity: Which is why you must continue to manage the boutique while I’m in Ponyville.

Sassy: (stunned) Ponyville?

Rarity: Oh, yes, I’ll come to Canterlot with new designs and to see the customers, of course— (Close-up.) —but Ponyville was always going to be my home base.

(A happy gasp from the o.s. Sassy; zoom out quick to frame her, leaning forward on her front hooves.)

Sassy: Oh, bobbins and bodkins, Rarity! (She flips back onto her haunches and shakes Rarity vigorously.) Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! (Release; stand up to all fours.) A-And I promise to run everything following your Rules.

Rarity: I would expect nothing less.

(The two unicorns embrace. Cut to a close-up of a sale flyer, seen from behind, floating in the open front doorway. It hides the face of a blobby, light blue-green shape, but leaves two pony ears and a fringe of bright yellow mane in view. The voice identifies this arrival as a mare, and during the next line, the camera zooms out and she moves the flyer aside. She does not resemble a pony so much as a giant water balloon with legs; red-brown eyes with slightly yellowed whites.)

Huge mare: Oh, my gosh, a sale!

(She trots in, exposing a cutie mark that shows her own bloated face on a white star surrounded by five small orange ones. Rarity and Sassy stare, their minds having blown at least three gaskets each.)

Huge mare: Do you have the Princess Dress? (Rarity and Sassy separate.)

Rarity, Sassy: NO!

(Both voices laugh over the absurdity of that request as the mare just shrugs confusedly to herself and goes for a look at the dresses on display. Cut to an overhead shot of the room and fade to black.)

RARITY INVESTIGATES!

Story by Meghan McCarthy, M.A. Larson, Joanna Lewis, Kristine Songco

Written by Joanna Lewis, Kristine Songco

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by Meghan McCarthy

Consulting direction by Jayson Thiessen

Supervising direction by Jim Miller

Directed by Denny Lu

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Note:                All lines marked with one asterisk (*) are delivered as a voice over.

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of Canterlot Carousel, the shop Rarity opened in “Canterlot Boutique,” seen from across the street during the day. Zoom in slowly as a couple of ponies stroll past, then dissolve to the showroom inside. One mare is on her way out, and a second is completing a purchase with manager Sassy Saddles at the counter. Sassy waves goodbye to this one, a unicorn who heads for the door with a shopping bag in her magical grip. Cut to Rarity near the closed workroom door, floating three pony mannequins past behind herself. First: deep red trenchcoat with pink belt and neckline bow; deep purple, broad-brimmed hat with pink band. Second: loose, long-sleeved, pale blue gown with gold bands at sleeve cuffs and midsection, the latter positioned so that the sleeves pass through it. Third: long-sleeved, dark gray suit consisting of a jacket and skirt; pink fur stole; white dress shirt; black belt and ribbon tie; small, feathered, dark gray “fascinator” hat cocked on side of head with a short veil attached.)

Rarity: Oh, Sassy Saddles, don’t you just love my new Femme Mystique Chic line of gowns? (She starts ahead on the end of this; cut to Sassy as they float past and she follows.)

Sassy: (gasping softly) Sequins and sashes, Rarity, they’re exquisite! (They are floated onto stands at the window; she steps out from the counter.) Where in Equestria did you find the inspiration?

Rarity: Oh!

(Close-up of the blue gown, tilting down slowly from body to hooves.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) I modeled them after the adventures of Shadow Spade. (The trenchcoat; tilt down.) Her stories are always full of mystery and suspense, and best of all…

(She stands up into view on the end of this, after which the camera cuts to frame all three mannequins and zooms out quickly to frame both unicorns. Rarity has dropped to her haunches, with forelegs spread wide to show her enthusiasm.)

Rarity: …fabulous costumes! (Close-up of Sassy.)

Sassy: They’re perfect! (suddenly puzzled) What are you doing?

(The answer: tweaking the position of the trenchcoat dummy ever so slightly while humming to herself.)

Rarity: Oh, uh, just making some minor adjustments.

(Exhaling onto the dark gray suit’s stole, she fluffs it with a hoof; next she drops to her belly and nudges the base of its stand a tiny bit, squinting intently.)

Rarity: Shadow Spade believes it all comes down to attention to detail, and so do I.

(A bit of magic shifts the fascinator to a new angle on the head.)

Rarity: There! Now it’s perfect!

(All is calm in the boutique for exactly as long as it takes the camera to cut to a close-up of the closed door and Rainbow Dash to fling it open with considerable force.)

Rainbow: Hey, guys! (The mannequins topple over.) How’s it—

(The rest of the greeting dies in her throat once she sees the brand-new mess and hears the fearful whimpering from both o.s. unicorns. A shot of the entire room reveals that she has not only wiped out the display, but sent fabrics every which way and swept Rarity and Sassy off their hooves. Orange and blue eyes aim dirty looks toward the stunt flyer, who can only manage a weak chuckle.)

Rainbow: My bad.

(Fade to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of the denuded windowsill. A grunt from the o.s. Rainbow floats up before she rises into view, righting the trenchcoat mannequin. It has lost its hat.)

Rainbow: Sorry I messed up your dress thingie.

(She brushes dust off the sleeves. A longer shot frames all three dummies standing again and both unicorns upright, Rarity doing a little telekinetic touch-up.)

Sassy: Nothing we can’t fix in a stitch. (floating up stacked fabrics, turning to counter) What are you doing in Canterlot?

Rainbow: I’m here for Princess Celestia’s Royal Garden opening tomorrow.

Sassy: (setting stack on counter) Oh, yes! Rumor has it the gardens are especially lush this season. I’ve heard that the Wonderbolts will be kicking things off with an aerial display.

(During the previous, she uses her aura to straighten out two sheets—a short one, which she sends away; and a longer one, which she pulls out to full length and lets curl above her head before propelling it off.)

Rarity: You heard right. And Rainbow Dash is here to fly with them! So exciting!

Rainbow: Well, kind of exciting. (Close-up.) Technically, I’m not flying. I’m just the lucky reserve who was called in to be the backup flyer in case a Wonderbolt can’t perform.

(Recall that she qualified for the Wonderbolt Reserves in “Testing, Testing 1, 2, 3.” Zoom out to frame Rarity on the start of the next line.)

Rarity: Oh, don’t be so modest. Out of all the reserves, you were the one chosen.

Rainbow: (slightly cocky) It is pretty sweet. (hovering around Rarity) And I do get to stay in the castle, hang out with the Wonderbolts, and eat awesome food at the dinner tonight. (A thought hits her.) Speaking of the dinner— (She flies back to look Rarity in the eye.) —you’re still coming, right?

Rarity: Heavens, yes!

(Cut to her; she gallops away to stroke/grip the hooves of the suited/gowned mannequins in turn.)

Rarity: A chance to dress up, be charming, and show off my newest Femme Mystique couture?

(Her field brings the trenchcoat dummy’s missing hat over and settles it at a rakish angle on her head.)

Rarity: I wouldn’t miss it for all of Equestria!

Rainbow: (from o.s.) Great! (Cut to her at the door.) See you tonight!

(The slam that marks her exit sets the mannequins shaking all over again as the camera pans to them, but Sassy is quick to wrap them all in her magic so that they remain standing. She and Rarity let their heads dip and their eyes close in silent relief at having averted a second disaster. However, it comes around again to the sound of the door being thrown open; this time, Sassy has no time to bring her horn into play and the displays crash to the floor. Rarity shoots a murderous glare toward the intruder from beneath the wide purple brim, but she instantly shifts into a big smile.)

Rarity: Ooh!

(She gallops to the door, where a pale green unicorn stallion holds a box on one front hoof. His blue shirt, shorts, and cap mark him as a package delivery employee, and his shorts display a box with wings and trailing dust cloud in the spot covering his cutie mark. Short, untidy, two-tone maroon mane/tail; bored brown eyes; a bit of stubble on the chin. Rarity gets the proffered parcel in her levitation.)

Rarity: The rhinestones I ordered!

(Plunking it on the floor, she undoes the flaps and extracts several wads of paper used for cushioning. A searching look within leads to a disappointed expression.)

Rarity: Oh, my. Oh, there’s been a mistake. (She floats a couple of gems out of the box.) I ordered dragon-cut stones, and these are hoof-polished.

Delivery stallion: (floating up a clipboard) Uh, I’m sorry, but I’ve got a full load of deliveries today. I’m not sure I have time to redo your order.

(The slighted customer stands up to full height, the blue eyes narrowed in the shadow of the hat brim and the mouth curled into a calculating smile. She floats the headwear away and tosses her mane back before crossing to him; in an instant, she sidles up and switches into damsel-in-distress mode. He is so startled that he lets the clipboard fall to the floor.)

Rarity: Oh, of course you don’t. Your job is so difficult. (laughing) Honestly, I don’t know how you keep all of those orders straight.

Delivery stallion: (blushing, rubbing back of neck) Oh, uh, i-it is pretty tough, what with the boxes all being…box-shaped. (Chuckle.)

(On the end of this, cut to a close-up of a wagon stacked with said items and zoom out to show it parked at the curb. The view then shifts to the front stoop of Canterlot Carousel, he now stands here, staring glumly out at the workload, and she is just inside the open doorway.)

Rarity: Oh, ye—ooh, yes. And I very much appreciate it. (easing a bit closer) But if there was any way you could squeeze in one more little delivery, I would be eternally grateful.

(On the second half of this line, cut to an extreme close-up of his chest as she gently lays a front hoof on the blue fabric, then zoom out to frame both. The faint blush and wide brown eyes tell of just how thoroughly his mind has locked up, and she adds a demure little laugh and a bat of her shining eyes to finish the job. He chuckles self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck again.)

Delivery stallion: Well, for you, Rarity— (floating box after himself) —I’ll see what I can do.

(Off he goes; she closes the door behind him, and the camera cuts to the showroom as she crosses to a most impressed Sassy.)

Sassy: Rarity, you could sweet-talk a filly out of candy.

Rarity: Oh! (Laugh.) It was nothing. (trotting off) Nopony minds a compliment.

(The other unicorn magically adjusts the trenchcoat collar; on the start of the next line, cut to Rarity peeking out from behind the curtains of the room’s elevated platform.)

Rarity: Now you simply must help me pick out an outfit for tonight. (ducking away) Something from the new collection, of course!

(Her faithful manager smiles at this and starts across the room toward her. Dissolve to the ballroom of Canterlot Castle, festooned with streamers/banners/balloons and set out with tables of yummy stuff to bite on—the dinner Rainbow mentioned. There is even a table stacked with gifts near the windows, through which a darkening sunset sky is visible. Flight-suited Wonderbolts are all over the place: partaking of the refreshments, flying back and forth, talking with Princess Celestia as she stands on the stage at one end of the room. Cut to the section of wall immediately above the room’s entrance and tilt down past the open doorway to floor level, where Rainbow and Rarity are entering. The unicorn has donned the gown from her latest fashion line, but in white rather than pale blue, while the flying pegasus has not bothered with any finery. Both stop short, Rainbow putting hooves to cheeks to frame a smile of giddy surprise, and Rarity flicks the end of her own forelock.)

Rainbow: Let’s grab some grub!

(She flies off, Rarity following, and both waste no time in getting plates to load up. As Rainbow flies off with hers, Rarity stops and sniffs deeply of the air.)

Rarity: Mmm! Is that Juniper Phoenix I smell? (Pan to Rainbow, hovering nearby with a now-full plate, on the start of the following.)

Rainbow: No, it’s broccoli!

(Not bothering to take some utensils or even land, she proceeds to gobble down the food she has piled up. Cut to an extreme close-up of Rarity; the sound of a suave, gravelly, deep male voice takes her by surprise, and the camera zooms out to frame the speaker on the start of the next line. It is Wind Rider, a sky-blue pegasus stallion with medium brown eyes and a short, wavy, two-tone dark gray mane/tail. He wears a dark gray bomber jacket with lighter sleeve cuffs and fur trim at hem and collar, and an off-white scarf is loosely knotted around his throat. Lines on his forehead and under his thick-browed eyes speak to his age; his cutie mark cannot be clearly seen at the moment due to the position of his wings. He has filled a plate from the buffet.)

Wind: Yeah, Juniper Phoenix is one of my favorite stallion colognes. (Rainbow freezes in midair, cheeks bulging and eyes staring.)

Rarity: Ooh, mine as well. It’s masculine and yet soft, with the barest hint of floral notes, and it—

(During the previous, the gobsmacked flyer swallows her mouthful, drops her plate to smash on the floor, stares slack-jawed, lets her eyes widen with hooves clapped to mouth, and finally flies up alongside the other mare.)

Rainbow: (whispering) Rarity, don’t you know who this is?

(She backs off as Rarity smiles politely in Wind’s direction; cut to a close-up of him, tilting slowly up from hooves to head. He grins confidently, and the camera zooms out slightly as the designer eases closer.)

Rarity: A gentle-pony with fabulous taste in colognes and scarves? (Rainbow inserts herself between them and frantically waves her off.)

Rainbow: (normal volume) It’s Wind Rider!

Rarity: Ohhhh! (Rainbow smacks a hoof to her own forehead in disgust.) So nice to meet you.

Rainbow: You didn’t let me finish. (Rarity’s perspective of her.) He’s a living legend! (backing up next to Wind, lifting his wing) He holds the Wonderbolt record in the Mustang Marathon!

Wind: Well, that was a long time ago. (She lets go and backs off; stars pop in her eyes.) Honestly, I can’t believe I still hold the record.

Spitfire: (from o.s.) Wind Rider!

(She flies over to the gathering, goggles on forehead. Accompanying her is a second Wonderbolt, a cream-colored mare with a two-tone light blue mane/tail who has her goggles over her eyes. This is Misty Fly.)

Spitfire: I see you met Rainbow Dash. She’s one of our most promising reserves. (They land; her voice turns sly.) She just might beat your record. (Nudge, nudge.)

Wind: (to Rainbow) Really now!

Rainbow: Oh… (Nervous laugh.) …I’m nowhere near as good as you. (Zoom in to a close-up.) I-I mean, I’m fast, but I-I don’t have the endurance to go long distances.

Spitfire: (from o.s.) Aw, don’t be modest. (Cut to her and Misty.) A little practice and you’ll be beating records in no time.

(The latter nods at these words; zoom out to put Wind in the foreground.)

Wind: (chuckling, to Rainbow/Rarity) Well, it’s nice to meet you fillies. (He walks off, leaving Rainbow to voice an awed little sigh.)

Rainbow: (saluting) Not as nice as it is to meet you, sir.

(His departure fully exposes his cutie mark: an old-style leather aviator helmet and goggles, with wings mounted at the ears. Rainbow manages a shaky laugh, full of air, then drops into a bow during the next line.)

Rainbow: I can’t believe I just met Wind Rider!

Misty: Yeah. He’s coming out of retirement to take the spot of honor in the center of our Aerial Flower Formation tomorrow. (Rainbow snaps up with a gasp and plants both front hooves on her chest.)

Rainbow: Really? (Another gasp.) That’s incredible!

(Calming down a notch, she takes her hooves away. Cut to a shot of Celestia, now down off the stage, and Wind kissing one of her front hooves; zoom in slightly on the stallion, then cut back to the four mares. Spitfire and Misty fly off, not seeing Rainbow’s spirits drop into her hooves, and Rarity floats a cup to herself from a nearby table.)

Rainbow: Guess I’ll just watch Wind Rider being awesome from the sidelines. (Close-up.) Practice tomorrow is gonna be so boring. (Zoom out to frame Rarity on the next line.)

Rarity: I don’t suppose I could keep you company? (Rainbow instantly brightens.)

Rainbow: You could! (hugging her; the cup falls) They always let friends and family come watch practices!

(Punch ends up splashed all over the immaculate gown, as the flyer discovers when she backs away. The unicorn gets out a half-strangled noise of surprise that turns into a dismayed cry; cut to an extreme close-up of the cup sliding slowly down the white fabric.)

Rainbow: (from o.s.) Oop. (Chuckle.) Sorry about that. (It drops free; she leans in close.) Let me help clean that up.

(Her plan becomes abundantly and horrifyingly clear to Rarity when she snorts in a huge breath, raises a front hoof, and prepares to hock a loogie onto it.)

Rarity: (hastily backing off) Uh, no, no. (Rainbow swallows.) It’s almost impossible to get stains out of silk.

(She uses her magic to slide a large trunk into view, stopping it in front of herself.)

Rarity: But not to worry.

(The lid flips open toward the camera, hiding her from view, and she ducks behind it for a split second. Just as quickly, the lid closes and the trunk is slid away to expose a completely new outfit: short-sleeved red-pink gown, short cape laid over it with a slightly different hue and secured by pink/red-pink sashes tied across the chest, small, matching feathered hair clip.)

Rarity: (walking off) I’ve come prepared!

(She completely misses the very funny look and eye roll that Rainbow sends her way. Dissolve to just outside the ballroom doors, from which Spitfire exits, followed by Rainbow and Rarity. Two pegasus guard stallions are on duty.)

Rarity: That dinner was absolutely divine. Thanks for inviting me.

(They move on to another corridor whose windows give a clear view of the darkened, star-filled night sky. Behind them, one side of the curtains adorning one window has come loose from its securing rope, which has fallen to the floor.)

Rarity: Ooh, you’re staying in the east tower? Those rooms have the best view of Canterlot! (Spitfire stops at one door.)

Spitfire: How lucky are we? (opening it, walking in) Well, we better get some shut-eye before practice. (The door closes.)

Rainbow: (flying off) See you tomorrow, Rarity!

Rarity: (singsong, calling after her) Good night!

(She heads back the way they all came in. Dissolve to the bright sun in a peaceful morning sky and pan/tilt down to the cliffside, cloud-built racetrack that served as the venue for the Wonderbolts Derby in “Sweet and Elite.” As squad members zoom around the area, the camera cuts to the highest-tier box seats—from which Rarity watched that earlier race at the invitation of Fancypants—and tilts down to Rainbow and Rarity sitting on their haunches in the topmost row of the lower grandstand section. The fussy unicorn is no longer wearing her replacement gown and has brought along a bottle of sunscreen, which she is applying to her forelegs and face. Rainbow sighs contentedly.)

Rainbow: Thanks for keeping me company, Rarity. If you weren’t here— (Rarity floats the bottle up and squirts out a dollop; Rainbow scratches the back of her neck.) —well, I don’t know who I’d be talking to right now.

(She gets a little dab on the end of her nose for making this creaky joke. Both smile as Soarin’ lands behind them.)

Soarin’: Uh, you’d be talkin’ to me. (He tips his goggles onto his forehead. The sunscreen is now gone from Rainbow’s nose.) Rainbow Dash, Spitfire’s mom sent a message that she was sick. She had to leave to take care of her. (Rainbow gasps; he walks off.)

Rainbow: Oh, no! I hope her mom’s okay.

Soarin’: Me too. (Stop.) In the meantime— (turning to point at her) —we need you to fly in her place.

(This request hits her like a cement block to the cranium. Cut to an extreme close-up of her constricted eyes.)

Rainbow: L…l-like… (They go huge and shiny.) …in the actual show?

Soarin’: Unless Spitfire comes back, yes. (She stands up in a blink.)

Rainbow: (saluting) I won’t let you down, Soarin’!

(Professional poise goes down the garbage disposal perhaps a second later, when she takes off straight up with a yell of sheer joy and corkscrews upward.)

Rainbow: This is the best thing ever! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! (strutting/dancing, singsong) I’m gonna get to fly with Wind Rider and the Wonderbolts, ’cause I’m the bestest and I’m awesome and they know it—

(Cut to Rarity and Soarin’; she continues under the next two lines with a string of “uh-huh” repetitions and a “yeah” or two mixed in.)

Soarin’: (addressing himself upward) Uh, Rainbow Dash?

Rarity: (whispering) Shh, shh. Let her have this, darling.

(Zoom in to a close-up of her face as she lifts it toward the sky. Around her visage, the background dissolves to a different stretch of seating; zoom out to show her as one of several spectators now sitting in that top-tier box. Rainbow and Wind rocket upward, side by side, and return in a carefully coordinated double swerve past the pennant flying from the roof. A turn brings them around to open air, and Rainbow pulls ahead of Wind while waving in Rarity’s general direction. Caught off guard at being outpaced even for this short moment, Wind hardens his expression and closes the gap.)

(In the box seats, Rarity returns the wave as a yellow-orange pegasus mare walks to her. Two-tone orange mane; purple sweater with lighter collar/cuff/hem trim; red-pink eyes with blue-violet shadow; pearl earrings and necklace; cutie mark of a rocket whose tail fins are two different shades of orange. This is Stormy Flare, whose lined face points to the age difference between the two of them as Wind’s did. Rarity is a bit surprised at the new arrival, but quickly gives a welcoming smile.)

Rarity: Hello there. (Stormy sits on her haunches.) Friend or family?

Stormy: Family. (Close-up.) My daughter’s a Wonderbolt. (shading eyes, gazing skyward) But I don’t see her up there. Do you know Spitfire? (Pan to Rarity.)

Rarity: Ooh, you’re Spitfire’s mum? (puzzled) But I thought you were sick.

Stormy: What?

Rarity: Well, Spitfire got a note from you saying you weren’t feeling well, and…she went home to take care of you.

Stormy: I didn’t send a note. (Zoom out to a long shot of the box; Soarin’ whooshes past, goggles over eyes.)

Rarity: (softly, hard-edged) That’s so strange. (He doubles back to get a good look at them.)

Soarin’: Stormy Flare? (Goggles up.) Aren’t you supposed to be sick? (Misty and two other Wonderbolts gather in for a look.) ’Kay, what’s happening?

Stormy: I don’t know. (They pull in near the box.) But I do know I didn’t send my daughter a note.

Rarity: Could somepony have sent Spitfire a fake note?

Misty: Who would do such a thing?

Soarin’: (crossing forelegs) Somepony who wanted her out of the show, I suppose. (Rainbow rises to their level.)

Rainbow: Why would anypony want that?

Wind: (flying into view behind her) Maybe so they could take her spot.

(In less time than it takes to say “call my lawyer,” the backup stunt flyer finds herself on the wrong end of distrustful glares from one retired and five current Wonderbolts. Cut to an incredulous Rarity and Stormy, the camera zooming in slowly on the former, and snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of a patch of closed curtains within Canterlot Castle. Rainbow rises into a hover before this, putting one front hoof to her chest.)

Rainbow: Me?

(A longer shot reveals that she is in a dressing room, backed up against the curtains by no fewer than seven Wonderbolts. Among the group is Soarin’, his goggles still up. Stormy stands behind them, looking more surprised than angry.)

Rainbow: I-I would never do that to Spitfire! Why would you think it was me?

(One of the performers, Blaze, gets in her face. Mare; light yellow coat; short, swept-back orange mane; goggles over eyes.)

Blaze: I did see you and Spitfire leave the dinner together.

Rainbow: We were room neighbors in the castle! (Here comes Misty on her other side.)

Misty: And you did say you would do anything to fly with Wind Rider.

Rainbow: Yeah, but I didn’t mean anything! (Close-up of Soarin’.)

Soarin’: Spitfire came by my room and told me she had to go see her mom at around midnight. Where were you then? (Pan to Rainbow and Misty on the end of this.)

Rainbow: I was asleep at midnight— (A thought bubble forms above her head; tilt up toward it.) —having this totally amazing dream.

(The bubble, which now fills the screen, shows a clear sky above the waving roof pennant of the racetrack’s top box. Cheers float up from the imaginary ground level as four flyers, including a fully suited-up Rainbow and Wind, hurtle across. The view is ringed with white to clearly mark this as a dream.)

* Rainbow: (with growing fervor) There I was, at the arena— (She does a flip/roll to cruise upside down above Wind.) —flying with Wind Rider and the Wonderbolts— (Pull out a camera; aim it at him.) —like I’ve always wanted to—

(The flash clears away to frame her in the here and now, realizing that her description may not be doing her any favors. Her voice catches in her throat for a moment.)

Rainbow: Uh, never mind. (hoof to face) Not helping.

(A round of urgent whispers floats across to her; cut to frame the entire room. The Wonderbolts have huddled in for a quick sotto-voce conference; Soarin’ is the first to break out and address her.)

Soarin’: Rainbow Dash, if you can prove that somepony else is behind Spitfire’s disappearance before the start of the show, then you can still fly with us. In the meantime…Misty Fly, Blaze. (These two step up and salute with a wing.) Head over to Stormy Flare’s house, and try to find Spitfire and bring her back. (Take off; he steps toward Rainbow, now deadly serious.) I have to warn you—if you sent that letter, the bylaws are clear. I’d have no choice but to ban you from the Wonderbolts forever. Understand?

Rainbow: (sighing heavily) I understand. (He turns back to the others.) But how am I gonna prove I didn’t send a letter that I didn’t send?

(Cut to a black silhouette of a mare standing against a dark gray background. A broad-brimmed hat covers the head, tilted low over the eyes, and a coat collar is turned up, but the voice instantly gives away the identity.)

Rarity: With me!

(Wonderbolt eyes turn toward her, and the unicorn steps out from behind a column. She has put on the trenchcoat and hat from her collection.)

Rarity: Detective Rarity is on the case, and we are going to get to the bottom of this faster than my costume change!

Rainbow: Yeah, what’s with the getup?

Rarity: Obviously I am channeling Shadow Spade through these gorgeous garments. (Close-up of Rainbow, rolling eyes wearily; she continues o.s.) And she would say that the best way to prove that you didn’t send the letter is to find out whoever did!

(She leans hard toward Rainbow on the end of this, giving a gimlet-eyed glare. Extreme close-up of one white front hoof being raised into the air.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) First stop… (Tilt down to follow it, framing the entire group; she points ahead.) …the scene of the crime!

(A column drifts past the screen; behind it, the view wipes to a black-and-white shot of the two friends making their way slowly along a corridor. Rainbow flies and Rarity walks as a slow, melancholy jazz tune begins—piano, drums, bass, muted trumpet. The night sky shows through the windows behind them. The edges of the screen are slightly washed out, as if the scene were being played from an old film reel.)

* Rarity: We had a long road ahead of us, Rainbow Dash and I. (Another column passes; wipe to a close-up of her.) Well, not too long because we didn’t have much time, but the point is—

(The camera tracks quickly around to frame her in a head-on shot.)

* Rarity: —I was up for the challenge.

(Snap to black and tilt down into one of the castle’s bedrooms. Rainbow has pulled open a desk drawer and is looking through it; after a moment, she slides it closed and flies over to sit on the bed, where she opens a drawer of the nightstand. In the foreground, Rarity stands up into view, levitating and peering through a large magnifying glass.)

* Rarity: There I was, surveying the crime scene— (Seeing her reflection in the surface, she pauses to admire herself.) —and looking très chic while doing it.

(The patch of floor at her hooves gets a bit of scrutiny; next she lets her eyes widen in surprise, and the camera zooms out slightly to frame the case. Lying a few feet away on the tiles is an envelope; close-up of it as her magic lifts it away.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) This must be the envelope for the letter Spitfire got!

(So this is the Wonderbolt’s quarters, then. She sniffs deeply at the bit of stationery, opens the flap, and inverts it. Out comes a small tuft of rainbow-striped hair—seen not in black and white, but in muted color—to drift down onto her upraised hoof.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) Hmm. (Cut to frame both.) These look like hairs from a rainbow mane!

(The wearer of the mane in question lets her jaw drop to full length, absolutely floored by the discovery, and swallows hard.)

Rainbow: That’s not good.

(She slumps in midair and flies lackadaisically away, the camera zooming in to an extreme close-up of the sleuth’s eyes as the light narrows to a horizontal band that highlights them.)

* Rarity: Rainbow Dash was getting antsy. (Normal light resumes; she crosses the room and adjusts her hat brim.) But I had faith I could clear her name and find the real culprit.

Rainbow: What are you doing?

(In an instant, the jazz stops and full color restores itself to the scene. A change in the camera angle picks out the fact that Rarity has stopped to admire her image in the room’s full-length mirror.)

Rarity: (flustered) Huh? Uh, what? O-Oh, just thinking thoughts.

(The accused flies through an open door into an adjoining room. Once she is gone, the black-and-white re-establishes itself and the jazz resumes; she begins to pace the floor in a profile close-up.)

* Rarity: Rainbow Dash was right. In order to solve the mystery, we had to be focused. Driven. One hundred percent in the—

(Full color; jazz stops; zoom out quickly. She has reached the half-undone curtains outside Spitfire’s room.)

Rarity: (excitedly) Ooooh! (stroking fabric) The damask pattern on these curtains is exquisite! (eyeing the still-fastened side) Oh, and this velvet rope holder! Oh, it’s just— (Zoom out slightly; Rainbow hovers just behind her.)

Rainbow: (groaning, hoof to face) We don’t have time to look at the décor! (Close-up.) They’re gonna kick me out of the Wonderbolts unless we solve this thing!

Rarity: (from o.s., dramatically) I know, Rainbow. (Cut to frame both.) And I am on this case like a charm on a bracelet. (pacing) Here’s what I’m thinking. (Rainbow catches up.) Somepony had to bring Spitfire that letter, which means— (Both stop.) —somepony must have seen them!

(On the end of this, she points ahead with a smile and the camera cuts to a long shot of the closed double doors at the far end of the corridor before her. It is the same one that served as the ballroom exit for the previous night’s dinner. Zoom in quickly; the two pegasus guards who were on duty have been joined by a third, and all are enjoying a moment of levity. One has a red helmet crest and tail, one blue, one purple.)

(Black and white resumes, as does the jazz: the three guards sit side by side behind a table in a room with bare stone walls, fidgeting under the glare of a single ceiling light.)

Rarity: (stepping into view) I just have a few questions for you, and I’m sure once we get some things cleared up, we’ll—

(Color fades into the scene and the jazz winds to a stop, as if coming from a record player that has been shut off. A zoom out on the start of the next line frames an irritated Rainbow addressing her.)

Rainbow: Come on, Rarity, we don’t have all day! (She leans into the red-crested guard’s face.) Where were you on the night of last night at midnight?

Red: We were here, guarding the hallway entrance like we were supposed to. (Rainbow now leans against the table, supporting herself with one bent foreleg.)

Rainbow: A likely story.

Red: I’m telling you, we were there all night, and no one went in or out of that hallway. (The blue-crested one thinks for a moment, then speaks.)

Blue: ’Cept for you. (Rainbow leans into his face.)

Rainbow: What are you trying to say?

Blue: Just that there are only two rooms in the northwest wing, yours and Spitfire’s. So the only other pony who had access to that wing was you.

[Continuity error: This contradicts Rarity’s Act One comment about being given quarters in the castle’s east tower.]

(His assertion throws a goodly amount of sand into Rainbow’s mental gears, and she backs away from the table without taking her front hooves off it. Black and white view, jazz resumes: Rainbow settles to all fours as Rarity watches from across the room.)

* Rarity: The waters were getting choppy. Rainbow Dash’s tactics were, well…horrid. (Extreme close-up: she opens her eyes to gaze levelly ahead.) It was time for another approach.

(Back to the table.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) Perhaps I should take it from here?

(The pegasus under suspicion grimaces mightily upon glancing back toward her, and a cut to the gumshoe tells the story. Rarity has changed into the dark gray suit and fascinator she designed and draped herself fetchingly across a couch that was not there before. A moment later, she is crossing past a gobsmacked Rainbow to stop near one end of the table, having adopted her best come-hither attitude.)

Rarity: You castle guards have… (circling behind Red, stroking his shoulders) …such a difficult job. I’m guessing that at times it can be rather… (Extreme close-up; she speaks softly into his ear.) …boring.

Red: It is. I’ve counted all three hundred and forty-five bolts in the ceiling tiles two hundred and ninety-three times.

Rarity: (pacing behind the three) And of course, being a castle guard can be thankless work. (Close-up: she stops behind Blue.) I’m not saying you did— (touching one of his front hooves) —but if you took a break, you more than deserved it.

Red: (from o.s.) Ah, you’re right. (Pan to him.) We don’t get a lot of recognition for what we do. (Longer shot, framing all five ponies.)

Blue: Except for last night, when somepony was nice enough to leave a cake for us. So we did take one little break when we ate that cake.

(Rainbow’s pleading look gets cut off when Rarity shoves her aside, having instantly switched back to her trenchcoat and hat and gone all business.)

Rarity: What kind of cake was it?

Blue: Cherry with a custard filling. (Profile close-up: she climbs onto the table to watch him even more closely.)

Rarity: Was the frosting vanilla or chocolate?

Red: (from o.s.) Chocolate. (Zoom out to frame him; she scrambles to his end.)

Rarity: Was the base of the cake decorated with buttercream rosettes?

Red: It was.

Rainbow: (groaning loudly, settling down from hover) Who cares how it was decorated?!?

(Extreme close-up of the grayed-out blue eyes, looking sidelong at the room from under the hat.)

* Rarity: Rainbow Dash was questioning my methods. But I knew what I was doing.

Rainbow: (from o.s.) Do you?

(Those eyes go very wide as the jazz winds to a stop, and the camera zooms out as normal color re-establishes itself.)

Rarity: Oh! Oh, ooh. (stammering a bit.) Did I say that one out loud?

Rainbow: (panicky) I mean, even I think I’m guilty at this point! (dropping to haunches, pawing at Rarity’s coat front) I really did want to fly in that show! (Close-up.) What if I wrote that note when I was asleep? Do you know what I do when I sleep? Because I sure don’t! (Tilt up to Rarity’s serene face.)

Rarity: Oh, calm down, Rainbow Dash. We’ll get to the bottom of this. (Rainbow backs off; she turns toward the table.) There’s only one bakery in Canterlot that makes a chocolate cherry cake with custard filling and buttercream frosting rosettes, and that’s…

(Black and white, with jazz: the upper story of a building, tilting down slowly to a long overhead shot of the street on which it stands. Rainbow and Rarity pass a few sidewalk tables on their way to the front door, the latter having changed into yet another outfit whose details cannot be completely discerned at the moment due to the camera position.)

* Rarity: …Cinnamon Chai’s tea and cake shop!

(Cut to a close-up of a unicorn mare standing at one table: apron; dark eyes with shadow on lids; long, dark, well-coiffed two-tone mane/tail. This is Cinnamon Chai, whose voice carries an even more exaggerated version of Rarity’s cultured accent. On the start of the next line, zoom out to frame both Ponyville mares and the details of Rarity’s new threads. Long, light-colored skirt with a dark under-layer and a short, polka-dotted over-layer; two-tone belt at midsection; sleeveless, high-collared, light-colored blouse with a large, dark ribbon tie; dark buttoned shoes on the forelegs. She has tied her mane back in a curling ponytail. Cinnamon turns as she speaks, showing a cutie mark of a bowl of cake batter with a cinnamon stick half-submerged in it.)

Cinnamon: Hello. How can I help you?

Rarity: I’ve heard you have the best chocolate cherry custard cake with buttercream frosting rosettes in town. (Cinnamon voices a short, high laugh.)

Cinnamon: You travel in the right circles. (floating up a dirty cup, wiping it with a cloth) We have the only chocolate cherry custard cake with buttercream frosting rosettes in town.

(Pan quickly from her to the shop’s front window, where a multitude of sweet goods are on display—as is one conspicuously bare doily. Zoom in on this.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) Oh, no! But somepony’s already bought it. (Zoom out to frame her and Rainbow.) Who was the lucky pony? (Cut to Cinnamon, who thinks hard before responding.)

Cinnamon: I can’t even say.

Rarity: (from o.s.) Why? (She steps in close.) Because it was somepony famous?

Cinnamon: No, because it was hard to tell.

(She ponders again, a thought bubble forming overhead and a pony mannequin appearing within. Each named item appears on the dummy in turn, along with a broad-brimmed hat.)

Cinnamon: She was wearing a trenchcoat, sunglasses, and a scarf around her head that covered most of her face. But I do remember she had a really deep, raspy voice.

Mannequin: (Rainbow’s voice) What do you mean, raspy? (The bubble poofs away.)

Cinnamon: Well, kind of like yours.

(Cut to Rainbow. This is exactly what she did not want to hear, if her staring eyes and the hard swallow she forces down tell an accurate story. Zoom out to frame Rarity on the start of the next line.)

Rarity: If there’s anything else you can remember, dish. (She steps closer to Cinnamon.)

Cinnamon: Well, have I got a story for you! (Both lean over the table toward each other; zoom in slowly.) The pony who bought the cake threw a big fit when she accidentally got chocolate ganache on her scarf.

Rarity: That’s terrible! (She props her chin on her hooves.) What color was the scarf?

Cinnamon: White! (Pause.) No…maybe more of an ivory. (Extreme close-up of Rarity’s face.)

Rarity: You don’t say!

(Zoom out quickly to frame Rainbow behind her as color returns and jazz stops. The new dress: white blouse/skirt; pink over-skirt dotted with two darker hues; deep magenta/pink belt, deep magenta ribbon tie/shoes/under-skirt; pink buttons and bows on the shoes.)

Rainbow: I can’t believe you’re talking fashion at a time like this!

(Cut to her, approaching the table, and pan to bring Rarity into view on the start of the following.)

Rarity: Rainbow, don’t panic. I need you to trust me.

Rainbow: Trust you? You’ve spent more time changing clothes than trying to help me!

(Overhead shot of the table. Now Cinnamon’s colors become clear: pale brown coat, reddish-brown mane/tail, deep purple eyes.)

Rainbow: (hovering) I’m doomed!

Rarity: No, you’re not. (walking off) Come on!

(Her face radiating the deepest level of uncertainty about the amateur detective’s competence, Rainbow swivels in midair to follow. Dissolve to a black-and-white view of an apartment building’s window that gives onto a fire escape. Rain pours down as the jazz resumes, but now the source of at least part of it becomes apparent: a stallion garbed in trenchcoat and hat, sitting on the windowsill and playing a muted trumpet. Tilt down to an overhead shot of the sidewalk; Rarity, back in her own coat and hat and with her mane in its usual style, walks along while levitating an umbrella to keep the rain off herself. Rainbow flies slowly alongside, getting thoroughly soaked.)

* Rarity: Rainbow Dash was obviously upset. (Ground level; three ducklings walk past and down the street.) But I had all my ducks in a row. Except…  (A fourth scurries to catch up.) …one.

(It topples into a puddle. Cut to a close-up of the disaffected pegasus.)

* Rarity: She was not going to like it. (Zoom out; Rarity glances back from the corner of her eye.) But there was only one way to find out if my suspicions were correct.

(Jazz ends; cut to a full-color long shot of the racetrack and zoom in slowly on the adjoining castle tower as Blaze and Misty fly into view toward it. Another cut shifts the view into the dressing room seen at the start of this act; the door opens and the two mares enter. Soarin’ sits on his belly, eating a pie; Fleetfoot hovers restlessly near the curtains; Wind sits on a stool off to one side, next to Stormy.)

Blaze: We looked everywhere, but Spitfire wasn’t at her mom’s house.

(Close-up of Stormy and Wind. The latter’s scarf is tied differently from the dinner in Act One.)

Stormy: Where could she be?

(Sound of the door behind flung open; pan quickly to Rarity at the threshold, having ditched her umbrella, with a fully dry Rainbow right behind. A flash of lightning turns the view to black and white and starts the jazz anew.)

Rarity: (pointing ahead) I’ve found the culprit!

(Soarin’ trades an apprehensive look with Fleetfoot and swallows hard, Blaze and Misty glance uneasily at each other, and Rarity paces slowly past the two eldest pegasi in the room.)

Rarity: Somepony sent Spitfire away and framed Rainbow Dash for it. (Close-up.) And that pony was none other than… (Stop; point back the way she came.) …Wind Rider!

(On the end of this, pan quickly back to the stallion, whose expression hardens as lightning cracks the sky again. Gasps and murmurs from the o.s. Wonderbolts; cut to Rainbow, who slaps a hoof to her face in disbelief—“has she completely lost her mind?” Snap to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to an empty stretch of the dressing room, against which a shocked Rainbow stands up into view. Full color has been restored, and the jazz has stopped.)

Rainbow: Rarity! I can’t believe you would accuse Wind Rider of framing me! (She flies over to the two.) He’s a living legend, for pony’s sake!

Rarity: All the evidence points to him.

Rainbow: (scoffing) What evidence could you possibly have? (Slide to the snack table.) All you did was ask about cake— (Fly up to the curtains.) —admire décor— (Knock Rarity’s hat off.) —and change outfits a gazillion times!

(The fashion-conscious investigator maintains complete calm.)

Rarity: Let me explain. (pacing) I never believed you would send Spitfire away. (Cut to Rainbow and Wind; Rainbow lands as she continues o.s.) And when we found the rainbow hairs in Spitfire’s room—

(Close-up of her coat pocket, zooming out as she floats a small plastic bag up from it. Inside is the bit of multicolored hair she found while she and Rainbow were searching the place.)

Rarity: —I could tell they didn’t fall out. They were cut!

(Zoom in to a close-up of the bag on the end of this, showing that the ends have an appearance consistent with being snipped straight across. Cut to a slow pan across Stormy with Blaze/Fleetfoot/Misty/Soarin’, all well and truly puzzled by this revelation.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) Nopony loses hair in a chunk. (Back to her, floating the bag up.) And look at the ends. It’s a straight line! (Back it up.) They were clearly cut with shears! (pacing) Which means somepony planted it!

(Cut to a black-and-white shot of Rainbow and Rarity in Spitfire’s room. The former has her hat back on and is floating the envelope from the faked note at eye level to scrutinize it, while the latter sits sullenly on her haunches atop the bed and lets her hind legs dangle over the side. The jazz starts up.)

* Rarity: Then, when we were examining Spitfire’s room— (Extreme close-up; she sniffs the item.) —I smelled something on the envelope. (Eyes pop.) Juniper Phoenix! (Fierce smile.) Wind Rider’s cologne of choice!

(Outside in the hallway; she advances toward the main doors as Rainbow stands on her hind legs, lounging against a column with forelegs crossed impatiently.)

* Rarity: Then, in the castle hallway— (Stop to inspect the curtains.) —I noticed some of the damask curtains fell out of their velvet rope holder— (Think, stroking chin.) —indicating that somepony had been hiding behind them!

(The present: she now faces Wind down at close range. Full color; no jazz.)

Rarity: Perhaps after they dropped off the fake letter?

Wind: Juniper Phoenix is a very popular fragrance, and anypony could’ve moved those curtains.

Rarity: Precisely why I questioned the castle guards.

(Black and white, jazz on: overhead shot of two guards on duty at the ballroom doors.)

* Rarity: They were at their posts, at the entrance to the hallway, all night. (The third guard approaches.) Except for a small window of time when somepony brought them cake!

(He holds up the item in question—stacked high and liberally decorated with frosting and sprinkles—and the other two smile broadly at the sight of it. Back to the present, full color, jazz off; Rarity sidesteps her way across the dressing room.)

Rarity: A cake that was ordered by a girl pony with a raspy voice!

(Black and white, jazz on: just outside the door to Cinnamon’s shop. A pegasus flies out, almost completely hidden behind trenchcoat/hat/sunglasses/scarf and carrying the cake. This pony is nearly bowled over twice—first by a well-dressed unicorn stallion who gallops past, then by two stallions—earth pony and unicorn—giving chase.)

* Rarity: Whoever ordered the cake got a chocolate stain on their ivory scarf.

(Extreme close-up of that article of clothing, clearly showing a smudge of frosting on its knot. Zoom out slowly.)

* Rarity: And I couldn’t help but notice that Wind Rider’s scarf is tied in a tight Windsor knot—

(On the end of this line, the view dissolves to a close-up of the former flying ace in the present, full color, and the jazz fades away.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) —instead of its usual loose slipknot! (She steps into view at one side.) And why is that? (magically grabbing scarf end) Is it to hide…

(Extreme close-up of his chest. The knot is nimbly untied and the two ends left to fall loose; one of them is mottled with brown.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) …the chocolate stain?!?

(A round of gasps from the four Wonderbolt onlookers and Stormy.)

Wind: (jumping off stool to face them) Ah, this is preposterous. Wonderbolts! You don’t believe a word of this, right? (Close-up of his anxiously smiling face.)

Rarity: (from “o.s.”) Just admit it! (He steps aside, exposing her just behind and stepping up.) You’re just as guilty of framing Rainbow Dash as you are of ruining that ivory scarf!

(Any degree of suavity he has left disintegrates into an air of resentful admission.)

Wind: Ugh, fine! You caught me! I did it!

Rainbow: (flabbergasted) But…why, Wind Rider? Is it because I took the last broccoli at the dinner, and you really, really wanted it?

(Cut to him on the end of this. He opens his mouth, preparing to either fumble his way past this question or deliver a really scathing comeback, but Rarity zips over to cut him off.)

Rarity: No! It was because he was afraid that you would break his long-distance Wonderbolt record.

(Black and white, jazz resumes: she and Rainbow talk with Wind at the dinner. She is in her original white/gold gown, prior to getting punch dumped onto it.)

* Rarity: I heard him when Spitfire said you were close to breaking his record. He said, and I quote— (Wind walks off, mouth moving in time with the following.) —“Heh-heh.”

(Here and now; full color, jazz stops.)

Rarity: (pacing) That’s the polite but disingenuous laugh you make when you want to seem happy, but really you’re not. (Cut to Wind.)

Wind: I thought if I could get Rainbow Dash kicked out of the Wonderbolts forever, my record would be preserved. (Rainbow crosses to him.)

Rainbow: Really? That is so not cool. And I thought you were the coolest Wonderbolt ever—until now.

Wind: (hovering) I did what I had to do to protect my record! Sometimes you gotta play dirty to be the best! (He lands.)

Rainbow: That’s not what being a Wonderbolt is all about.

Soarin’: (from o.s.) She’s right!

(The lined blue face turns toward his voice; cut to just behind Wind, facing all the present professional flyers and the absent one’s mother.)

Soarin’: Wonderbolts look out for each other! (face hardening) Which reminds me…where is Spitfire?

Wind: (smirking) I sent her the letter pretending to be Stormy Flare. I told her I had pegasitis, and the only cure is the Ice Iris in the Crystal Mountains. (Zoom in on Rarity and Rainbow.)

Rainbow: No wonder she’s been gone so long! Ice Irises are almost impossible to find in spring!

Soarin’: (pacing, hovering) The Crystal Mountains are too far for anypony to make it there and back before the Royal Garden opening! Rainbow Dash, we need you to fly in Spitfire’s place.

Rainbow: But Spitfire shouldn’t have to miss this. I’m gonna get her.

Soarin’: Well, you’ll never make it in time!

(The red-violet eyes narrow intently as she turns to stare across the room. Cut to a long shot of the racetrack, the storm not having let up one bit.)

Rainbow: (flying out and away) Then there’s no time to lose!

(Dissolve to a slow pan across the dressing room. Soarin’ and Stormy talk worriedly; Blaze gazes out the window; Rarity busies herself keeping a steely glare on Wind as he sits on his stool again. The rain has now stopped.)

Blaze: Rainbow Dash is still gone!

Rarity: (crossing to her) Oh, don’t panic. If I know Rainbow Dash, she’ll come through.

(The disgraced stallion rolls his eyes wearily, just before the sound of the door opening cuts in. It swings open to expose Rainbow and Spitfire, the latter considerably more winded than the former. As Rainbow enters the room, Spitfire puts her goggles up and an overjoyed Soarin’ steps over to her.)

Soarin’: Spitfire! You’re back! I can’t believe you made it!

Spitfire: (sighing) I wouldn’t have— (Cut to Rainbow/Rarity/Wind; she continues o.s.) —if Rainbow hadn’t found me so fast. Gave me enough time to fly back.

Rainbow: (hovering) Rare, I couldn’t have done it without you. And I’m sorry I doubted you. (She touches down.) But why didn’t you tell me what you were doing?

Rarity: Well, I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I was sure. And I couldn’t be sure until I saw that chocolate stain.

Rainbow: (touching Rarity’s chest) Thank you for believing in me—even when I was doubting you. (head drooping) I’m some friend, huh?

Rarity: (touching Rainbow’s shoulder) Actually, you’re quite a good friend.

(Cut to Spitfire, Soarin’, and Stormy, all hovering and looking down with gentle, proud smiles.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) You went to get Spitfire, even though it meant you couldn’t fly today. (Back to Rainbow.)

Rainbow: (sighing, smiling) I’ll get my chance one day. (Spitfire zooms over to Wind, now off the stool.)

Spitfire: Or today! How’d you like Wind Rider’s spot in the show?

(He is so taken aback by this offer that his pupils and irises shrink away to almost nothing.)

Wind: Uh…w-w-what? Y-You can’t do this to me! I-I’m one of the greatest Wonderbolts there ever was!

Spitfire: Not anymore. For attempting to frame Rainbow Dash, I hereby strip you of your Wonderbolt status!

(On the end of this, cut to an extreme close-up of his jacket front; she reaches into view and tears a gold pin away from it—the winged lightning bolt that serves as the team’s insignia. Zoom out and tilt up to frame his angry glare before he gets walked out by a flying Fleetfoot.)

Soarin’: (to Rainbow) So, would you like to fly with us?

Rainbow: Would I! (She hurtles up to the ceiling.) Woo-hoo!

(Just as when she got the news of Spitfire’s absence in Act One, she goes into a goofy celebratory dance accompanied by a liberal dose of both “uh-huh” and “yeah.” Zoom out on the start of the next line to show Rarity, Spitfire, and Soarin’ watching.)

Soarin’: Uh…Rainbow Dash?

(She stops cold and gives him a big, squeaky, thoroughly embarrassed grin. Cut to floor level; the three spectators head for the door.)

Rainbow: (from o.s.) Coming!

(She zooms out past Rarity, who brings up the rear. Dissolve to a black-and-white stretch of clear daytime sky, the jazz starting up. Spitfire, Misty, and Soarin’ swoop down from above and fly toward/past the camera, goggles all on eyes, after which two trios of Wonderbolts approach from opposite sides and gain altitude, their paths interweaving before they split up. Next three pairs approach a central point and cut tight turns around it, leaving smoke trails in six different monochrome shades to form a gigantic floral bloom—the Aerial Flower Formation Misty mentioned—before zooming off again.)

* Rarity: So my friend got her moment in the sun—

(The display is broken up when Rainbow punches through its center, suited up in the goggles and sleeveless tunic she and the other cadets wore in “Wonderbolts Academy.”)

* Rarity: —or the center of an Aerial Flower, as the case may be.

(Cut to an extreme close-up of Rarity’s eyes, tilted up to watch the high-altitude spectacle.)

* Rarity: And as for me? (She looks around.) I got a chance to show off my Femme Mystique Chic collection.

* Stormy: That’s nice, dear.

(The eyes widen in surprise; zoom out quickly as full color resumes and the jazz winds to a stop. She and Stormy sit side by side in the racetrack grandstand seats, surrounded by other spectators.)

Rarity: Oh. Did I say that out loud?

(Fade to black.)

(The usual closing theme does not accompany the credits. In its place is the subdued melody played by the jazz combo during the black-and-white scenes.)

MADE IN MANEHATTAN

Written by Noelle Benvenuti

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by Meghan McCarthy

Consulting direction by Jayson Thiessen

Supervising direction by Jim Miller

Directed by Denny Lu

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of a full bookshelf. One title becomes enveloped in a magic field and is pulled away, and a long shot of the area gives more detail. Tree-patterned windows and banners, long semicircular shelves lining the back wall with a conveniently placed ladder for easy access, overarching blue/violet crystal columns, and branches of a blue crystal tree sculpture that reach up into view from the bottom of the screen. This is the upper portion of the library in Twilight Sparkle’s castle. The chosen piece of literature loops slowly toward floor level, the camera tilting down to follow it and frame Twilight and Spike in an overhead shot. Several round tables have been placed around the room; she sits at one, with books stacked up on both sides, and others litter the rest of the tables and the floor. Spike sits atop a few, reading a comic book from the box that rests before him, and a few dozen have been arranged to form a giant house of cards.)

(Close-up of Twilight as the selected book descends to her. Magic opens the cover and settles it on the table, but her out-of-sorts expression and weary sigh speak to a general lack of enthusiasm for heavy reading. The book is telekinetically closed and set on the pile to her left; blowing a hearty raspberry toward it, she extracts one from her right side and gives its contents a quick look. Another sigh, a slump down, and the book settles itself on that same pile—spine upward, covers open, pages fanned to support its weight. After a groan with chin nearly touching the table, she draws herself upright and immediately lets herself sag down with a third, drawn-out sigh.)

Twilight: I’m bored.

Spike: But you’re reading. (Long overhead shot of them.)

Twilight: (echoing slightly) I’ve read all these books already. (Ground level.)

Spike: (rolling eyes) And…?

Twilight: And I’m bored! (She plants her front hooves on the table, jarring the stacks.) I want to do something! Things have been so slow around here and I just—

Rarity: (distant) Twilight! Twilight!

(The Princess on duty zooms out of the library, and Spike jumps down from his improvised seat to follow, comic in hand. Cut to the closed throne room doors, seen from inside; these fly open in Twilight’s magical grip and the two race in.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) Ooh, Twilight, darling!

(Cut to her, standing at the far edge of the room’s central table and its magic map.)

Rarity: Oh, thank goodness! It seems that my—

(A clatter of hooves cuts her off, and here comes Applejack into the throne room. She downshifts from a gallop to a walk, out of breath, wiping sweat from her forehead, and with her cutie mark flaring.)

Applejack: Got here as fast as I c—

(Twilight eyes the three apples with a surprised gasp, and Rarity crosses the room to join the group. Her mark has also begun to act up, bringing a huge smile to Twilight’s face.)

Twilight: (pumping a foreleg) Yes! Finally! (trotting to map; Spike follows) We’ve been summoned. I wonder where the map wants us to—

Spike: Uh, Twilight?

(Extreme close-up of one wing as he lifts it to point out the stars on her haunch—which are doing nothing but sitting there and being pink and white. Applejack and Rarity cross to them, the earth pony giving a sheepish little grin, the unicorn a puzzled grimace. Twilight’s enthusiasm dribbles away, and she lets off a long, loud, bored sigh while sinking almost completely out of view behind the map. Snap to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to the four and zoom in slowly.)

Applejack: Where do you think—

(Images of both her cutie mark and Rarity’s float up toward the room’s tree-stump chandelier, circling around each other, and descend toward a clump of high-rise buildings on the map. Rarity breaks into a giddy laugh, alternately hunching down for a closer look, straightening up again, and drumming her front hooves on the table edge. Both mares’ marks have quieted down now.)

Rarity: Oh, Manehattan! We’ve been called to Manehattan! (Hunch down.) Oh, I’ve simply been dying to go back for a visit— (Close-up; she stands.) —and now, I return. (fiercely) With a purpose!

Twilight: (from o.s.) Hmmm.

(Cut to her, now peering closely at the spot where the two marks have settled—on the outskirts of the teeny tiny big city.)

Twilight: It looks like you’ve been summoned to this particular neighborhood here.

(Zoom in to an extreme close-up of the location as she finishes, then cut to Rarity zipping over to Applejack.)

Rarity: (throwing foreleg around Applejack’s neck, squeezing) We’re off to solve a friendship problem in one of the busiest and most vibrant cities in all of Equestria! Isn’t this exciting?

(The blue eyes pop and she does her very best to bite back a squeal of joy, catching her lower lip in her teeth just to be safe. Applejack, on the other hand, keeps her composure and nudges Rarity back.)

Applejack: Seems a hair odd, though, don’t it? The map callin’ me to a big city like Manehattan?

(Cut to Twilight on the start of the next line; behind her, Spike has taken a seat on Pinkie Pie’s throne and started back in on his comic.)

Twilight: You may be more of a country pony at heart, Applejack, but the map picked you two because you’re the best ponies to tackle this particular mission. (Spike looks up and nods.)

Applejack: But how will we even know what our mission’s supposed to be? That neighborhood prob’ly has twice as many ponies as all of Ponyville. (Rarity sputters out her disbelief.)

Rarity: (with mounting giddiness) More like three times. Why, it’s not only home to the hay-packing district, it’s also home to the fashion district!

(She ends with a gasp and a chew on her bottom lip; across the way, though, Twilight lets her ears droop disappointedly.)

Rarity: Hmmm. Shame you weren’t called as well, though, darling. You did end up quite a fan of the hustle and bustle of Manehattan on our last visit.

(A reference to “Rarity Takes Manehattan.”)

Twilight: (smiling wistfully) It’s such an exciting city, and there’s still so much I’d like to do there. (rising slowly) So many museums and historical landmarks to visit, not to mention all the libraries.

(Stars twinkle in her eyes as she loses herself in her travel plan; after a moment, she snaps back to herself.)

Twilight: (settling back down) But this is your mission. (Chuckle.) Don’t worry about me. I’ve got plenty of…

(After a quick glance around, she whisks Spike’s comic out of his grip with her aura and shifts it in front of herself.)

Twilight: …books…to keep me…busy.

(Its owner glares at her and voices a short noise of disgust at having his pastime commandeered; Applejack and Rarity tack on humoring smiles.)

Applejack, Rarity: (nodding) Mmm-hmm. (Pause; Rarity gasps.)

Rarity: I just remembered something—the Sisterhooves Social! (Applejack pulls a hoof wearily down the side of her face.)

Applejack: We’ll have to miss it. No tellin’ how long we’ll be in Manehattan. (She slumps; zoom in slowly on the marked spot.) I sure hope Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle aren’t too upset.

(Dissolve to a long shot of a train crossing the suspension bridge over the river/bay at the edge of Manehattan and heading toward the city proper. The sun shines in a clear daytime sky. Zoom out slowly, then cut to a city intersection, a stretch of the bridge visible between the buildings. Carriages and taxis zoom back and forth as the train rolls through with a shriek of its whistle. Cut to the upper portion of several buildings and tilt down to the train station that served as the start of the Ponyville crew’s visit to Manehattan thirty-four episodes ago. The street is filled with speeding vehicles, the sidewalks with pedestrians and tourists, and Applejack and Rarity step out of the front entrance, the former balancing a trunk on her back. Rarity jumps to hook a foreleg onto a lamppost and let herself swing out from it.)

Rarity: Oh, Manehattan, what you do to me!

(Her companion’s only response is an irked eye roll, perhaps remembering the semi-sweatshop that she and the others found themselves thrust into the last time. Her eyes pop in surprise as she looks ahead of herself, the camera zooming out quickly to the other side of the street. Between the two sidewalks is a seemingly impassable tide of horseflesh harnessed to carriages that flow through the streets of the city. She swallows hard and her legs begin to shake as Rarity turns to her.)

Rarity: (waving a hoof in her face) Darling, are you all right? (Applejack shakes her head clear.)

Applejack: Ponies move so fast here, not at all like back home.

(She eases up to the curb, inserting herself between a stallion and mare already standing there and completely ignoring the nasty looks they shoot at her.)

Applejack: (to herself) Eyes peeled, ears open. Eyes peeled, ears open.

(Traffic thunders in both directions along the street until a police stallion blows his whistle and waves for the pedestrians to cross. Before Applejack can even begin to get a hoof off the curb, a stream of ponies pours past, leaving her disoriented for a moment. She barely regains her senses before another knot of walkers hurries by from the opposite direction.)

Rarity: (trotting up to her) Remember, Applejack, you’re in the big city now. No moseying. You’ve got to walk with speed and confidence!

(Another whistle is her cue to start purposefully across. Cut to an overhead shot of this stretch of road, Rarity nimbly swerving about to dodge the other pedestrians, then to just behind Applejack as the white mare reaches the opposite side.)

Rarity: (waving) Yoo-hoo!

(Now Applejack paws the sidewalk, snorting out steam, and gallops into the street. Overhead view; each of the following interruptions comes when she nearly plows into another pony.)

Stallion 1: Move it!

Applejack: Sorry ’bout that.

Mare 1: Ah, get outta my way!

Applejack: Sorry!

Mare 2, Mare 3: Watch it!

Applejack: Hey—oh, dear.

(Street level; she dives for the other curb and lands with a complete lack of grace on her belly, just in front of Rarity.)

Applejack: (standing, dusting herself off) Butter my biscuits. I can barely cross the street in this town! How am I supposed to help solve a— (Rarity’s sharp gasp cuts off that inquiry.)

Rarity: (pointing to one side) There!

(Pan quickly to a street-corner cart selling hats and zoom in quickly. The vendor stallion is passing a shapeless number in a rather unappetizing shade of green to a mare; its brim droops down to cover her eyes and ears as she sets it on her head. Both are earth ponies.)

Hat buyer: Yes, I think this is the one. (She pulls out a coin, but Rarity gallops into view.)

Rarity: No! (Strike the money away.) No.

Hat buyer: Excuse me?

Rarity: That hat clashes with your mane, not to mention it’s far too large— (Buyer’s half-blocked perspective; the hat is floated away.) —and will undoubtedly obstruct your vision.

(The two mares again; she moves to the cart and runs a critical eye over the goods.)

Rarity: Oh, dear! None of these will do. (Here comes Applejack.) Oh, Applejack! (crossing to her) What good timing!

(The lid of the trunk is magically flipped forward to whack the blond farmer a good one in the back of the head. Humming placidly to herself, Rarity circles around to root through it.)

Rarity: Here!

(The buyer again; a round-crowned blue-violet hat is levitated onto her head, its brim turned up in front, and she smiles.)

Rarity: (from o.s.) This will do splendidly. (A hand mirror is next so she can check herself out.)

Hat buyer: Oh, it’s lovely! How much would you like for it? (Rarity crosses to her.)

Rarity: Oh, no, no, please, please, keep it. I can always make another.

Hat buyer: (touching Rarity’s chest) Thank you!

(Off she goes at a trot, the portly, unkempt vendor glaring after her. The trunk is now closed.)

Rarity: (to Applejack) And you thought we wouldn’t discover our purpose here. (She sputters out her disbelief.)

Applejack: (dryly) Yeah, I’m pretty sure that wasn’t it.

Rarity: (affronted) What? I just saved that poor pony from committing a terrible crime of fashion.

(Her hopeful grin is met by Applejack’s quizzical, slowly rising eyebrow.)

Rarity: (hastily) W-Well, she could have been…meeting a friend who would’ve laughed at her new hat, and then their friendship could’ve been ruined forever, and… (She finally peters out with a weak smile.) …ooh…it’s possible!

Applejack: (dryly) Did your cutie mark glow signifyin’ a job well done?

Rarity: (glancing back at her haunch) Ye— (Face falls.) No. I suppose it didn’t. Still, a disaster was averted.

Hat vendor: (from o.s.) Averted? (He advances toward the pair.) You just lost me a paying customer!

Rarity: Oh, my. Oh, I-I-I-I’m so, so sorry. I-I never meant to—

Hat vendor: (shaking a hoof at her) Beat it!

Rarity: Uh, please accept my sincerest apologies for the misunderstanding— (Applejack pulls her back and begins to push her away.) —a-and might I add, what a lovely establishment you have here!

(She chuckles weakly as he finally relents and goes back to his cart, and both out-of-towners get back to moving under their own power.)

Rarity: (clearing throat) You’re right, Applejack. (Chuckle.) The search continues!

(Her partner’s green eyes just flick a hard glance back at the trunk. Dissolve to a slow pan along a block lined with apartment buildings; Applejack stands on the sidewalk, addressing the passing ponies and being thoroughly ignored. She no longer carries the luggage.)

Applejack: Uh, ’scuse me? I was just wonderin’… (Camera stops.) …uh…friendship problem, anypony? See, we’ve been sent here to…a-a map summoned us and, uh…if you could just take a moment to… (She lets her head drop wearily.)

Rarity: (from o.s., voice raised) Friendship advice!

(Applejack stares out across the street; cut to a quickly constructed wooden booth on the far side. It is decorated with an overhead sign that shows the pair’s faces with a heart between them, a stool is set up out front, and the unicorn stands behind it to lean over the counter.)

Rarity: Anypony looking for friendship advice? (Not a single passerby even breaks stride.) Good grief! (slumping down) This isn’t working. (Zoom out slightly as Applejack steps up with a sigh.)

Applejack: I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do. To be honest, I’m still not even sure what the map called me here for.

Rarity: (touching Applejack’s chest) Oh, try not to worry, Applejack. The map picked us for a reason. (Long overhead shot of them.) Although how we’re supposed to uncover that reason, I haven’t a clue. We can’t possibly approach every single pony in town until we find out what we’re meant to—do!

(During this last sentence, an advertising flyer blows into view is carried down toward the booth, and the camera cuts to them as it plasters itself across her face on the final word. She uses her magic to yank it loose.)

Rarity: (reading, as Applejack looks on) “Please help us restore our long-lost but beloved tradition, the Midsummer Theater Revival. With a guest performance by local theater troupe, the Method Mares, as well as games, food, and much, much more—” (Cut to Applejack and back as she continues.) “—this event promises to bring our Bronclyn neighbors together and restore our sense of community, but there’s so much to do and we need your help.” Huh.

(She pulls in a happy gasp and looks up from the page, flipping it to give Applejack a good look.)

Rarity: Darling, this is it! The contact on the flyer is Coco Pommel! (Close-up of Applejack.)

Applejack: (remembering) Oh, right! (stroking chin) She’s the one you got a job makin’ costumes for that designer friend of yours. (Zoom out to frame Rarity.)

Rarity: Don’t you see? (magically folding flyer) This must be why the map called us here! (touching Applejack’s chest) Oh, and you were so worried. (Laugh.)

Applejack: Well, I suppose it’s at least worth lookin’ into. (worried, looking around) That is…

(Overhead shot of the booth; the thoroughfare is as lively as before. Zoom out slowly.)

Applejack: …if we can ever get off this street corner.

(Fade to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to a group of apartment buildings, seen from across the street. Night has fallen, and a few windows are lit. Zoom in slowly.)

Coco Pommel: (voice over) I can’t believe you found my flyer.

(Cut to a close-up of the earth pony, reading it over. A rack loaded with fabric rolls is visible behind her.)

Coco: Quite a coincidence, don’t you think?

(Longer shot. She half-lies on an overstuffed cushion, facing a haunch-sitting Applejack and Rarity on a couch. The three are in Coco’s living room, which is cluttered with design supplies and materials. Before the Ponyville pair stands a table set with a tray of sandwiches, a teapot, and a cup/saucer.)

Rarity: Applejack and I were specifically summoned here to be of service. (floating cup upward) And you, my dear friend, are in need of help. (Applejack snags a sandwich in her teeth and chows down.) It’s no coincidence, darling. It’s fate! (Sip.)

Applejack: This Midsummer Theater Revival—what is it, exactly?

(Now Coco straightens up on her perch and picks up a photo album lying on the floor.)

Coco: An outdoor play held at the community park.

(She opens it to show a couple of pages, the camera zooming in to a close-up of the single photograph on the left one. A stallion is on outdoor stage in a well-kept park, delivering a monologue for a rapt audience.)

Coco: (from o.s.) Many moons ago, local theater troupes would perform—

(Pan to one photo on the facing page; three foals, including a young Coco, are costumed to take roles in a pony version of The Wizard of Oz. With them is a bespectacled earth pony mare, Charity Kindheart, keeping an eye on the proceedings. Light yellow coat, vivid blue eyes behind red-framed glasses, beauty mark under the right one, two-tone blue-gray mane/tail with a few hairs sprung loose, violet jacket with lighter sleeve/hem accents and white fur at the collar; orange pearl necklace, cutie mark of a red fabric heart with two pins stuck into it.)

 Coco: (from o.s.) —and ponies in the neighborhood would help make the costumes— (Pan to the page’s other photo: Filly Coco, out of costume, painting a backdrop and wearing a few splotches.) —and design set pieces—

(Her mane is tied in braids for the costume picture, a loose ponytail for the painting one, and she does not wear her sailor-suit collar, red tie, or three-colored flower clip in either. Page flip: on the left, a stallion and mare on kitchen duty dish up soup and fruit for a customer.)

Coco: (from o.s.) —prepare food to share during the performance. (Cut to frame all three; the album is now propped on the table, and she stands alongside it.)

Applejack: Y’all do look like you’re enjoyin’ each other’s company. (Rarity’s aura turns a page.) Kinda reminds me of Ponyville.

Rarity: It sounds lovely, darling.

Coco: It was… (sadly) …up until several moons ago.

Applejack: What happened?

Coco: (pointing to album, smiling) That’s Charity Kindheart.

(Close-up of one photo: Filly Coco and three other foals stand next to Charity.)

Coco: (from o.s, pointing to her) She was a well-known costume designer on Bridleway.

(The hoof slides to another photo, which shows her on the stage, holding a bouquet of flowers and beaming at the audience’s applause.)

Coco: (from o.s.) She started the Midsummer Theater Revival as a way to share her passion for theater with the neighborhood.

(Page flip; Charity stands before a cleaned-up Filly Coco, holding the familiar bloom in her teeth.)

Coco: (from o.s.) No matter how busy she was— (Pan to a second snapshot: she has tucked the flower into the youngster’s mane.) —she always made time for the Revival.

(Closing the album, she begins to cross to the apartment’s balcony.)

Coco: But when she moved away to be closer to her grand-fillies, the neighborhood lost the special tradition she had started—

(Cut to outside, a short distance beyond the railing; she steps out and leans her forelegs on it.)

Coco: —and worse, the sense of community it fostered.

(Pan/tilt down to the nearest intersection, still buzzing with activity at night even as it did in the day. As an elderly mare starts across the street, a stallion pulling a taxi carriage screeches to a halt to avoid hitting her.)

Mare 4: Hey, I’m trottin’ here!

(She goes on, the stallion resuming his headlong rush once she has moved far enough to let him by. Inside the apartment, Rarity has traded her teacup for a sandwich.)

Applejack: Nopony else stepped up to take over for Charity? (Coco comes in from the balcony.)

Coco: I’ve been trying to— (closing doors) —but I’ve just gotten a last-minute request to alter costumes for the cast of My Fair Filly, and I’m afraid I haven’t made much progress. (with growing panic) Ooh…there’s just so much to do to bring back the Midsummer Revival, and my flyers haven’t attracted a single volunteer!

(She pulls nervously at her face; now Rarity hops off the couch and crosses to her.)

Rarity: Say no more! You finish up your work, and by this time tomorrow you’ll be up to your mane in ponies who want to lend a hoof. (Applejack joins them.) Applejack and I will make sure of it.

Coco: You will? (Big squeaky grin.)

Applejack: You bet your boots we will!

Coco: (chuckling nervously) Oh, I don’t wear boots. I find they chafe my calves when I walk. (Long pause.)

Applejack: (dryly) It’s just an expression.

(She and Rarity smile gently at Coco, who allows herself a blush and a big grin at having let this bit of slang go over her head. Dissolve to a close-up of Applejack and Rarity standing side by side on a sidewalk, the former equipped with a saddlebag full of flyers. Rarity addresses herself o.s.)

Rarity: So you see, the Method Mares are only available on this one day—

(Zoom out. They are standing at a newsstand whose proprietor, an earth pony stallion, is busy stacking papers on the counter. It is now the following day.)

Rarity: —and we need all the help we can get with preparations. (She grins as he sets out a bundle.)

Newsstand vendor: Yeah, not a good time right now. (A passing stallion lays down a coin and takes a paper; he chuckles.) What am I sayin’? It’s never a good time.

(The two visitors turn glumly away as a copy floats across the screen. Behind its trailing edge, the view wipes to a popcorn cart; the earth pony mare working it brings up a full bag for a grinning stallion who has already put his money down. The sound of Rarity’s throat clearing draws an annoyed over-shoulder glare from the vendor; as the customer leaves, zoom out to frame her standing just behind. Still farther back, Applejack offers the flyer in her teeth to a passing stallion, who pays no mind. They are standing near a set of aqueduct-style bridge in a park.)

Rarity: Well, what do you think?

Popcorn vendor: I got my own problems.

(Longer shot: a line of customers is waiting impatiently for service.)

Popcorn vendor: You think I got hours to dedicate to somepony else’s?

(Away go the two would-be organizers. A bag of popcorn floats by; behind it, wipe to them looking hopefully a well-dressed, mustachioed dandy of an earth pony stallion in a meadow. He is sitting upright, with his hindquarters out of view.)

Dandy stallion: (stroking mustache) Ah, yes. Charity’s Midsummer Theater Revival. Such wonderful memories.

Applejack: So you’ll help us?

Dandy stallion: (laughing) Don’t be ridiculous. I run a very important oat and hay import/export business. Why, I can’t spare even a moment for such things.

(He drifts slowly o.s. to the sound of water splashing, and a longer shot discloses that he is now lying face up on a shallow, flat-bottom boat that is just large enough to accommodate him. Pan to follow his lazy journey across the stream in which he is floating—so much for “can’t spare even a moment”—then dissolve to a close-up of a downcast Coco in her living room.)

Coco: This is a nightmare. (Cut to Rarity nearby.)

Rarity: Oh, not at all, darling. (She floats up a hat.) It’s quite lovely.

(Obviously the two are talking at cross purposes. The chapeau is lowered again; cut to a close-up of Applejack, also in the room, on the start of the next line.)

Applejack: I think she was talkin’ about the Midsummer Theater Revival. (Back to the others; Coco haunch-sits on the couch.)

Coco: I’ve finished the alterations for My Fair Filly, but I’ve barely started the costumes for the revival and the Method Mares are coming to the park tomorrow for a costume fitting and rehearsal!

Rarity: Well, I could help you with the costumes.

Coco: But…what are we going to do about the rest? The park is in desperate need of repairs, and the sets still need to be built! (She gnaws a hoof fearfully; cut to frame all three. Applejack sits alongside, her saddlebag gone.)

Applejack: Well, I know a thing or two about buildin’ and fixin’ things. (climbing down) It’s kinda, well, my thing. (Coco smiles.) Could be the reason the map called me here! (Grin.)

Rarity: (to Coco) You see, dear? We went out looking for volunteers when all the help you need is right here.

Applejack: (crossing to her) Uh-huh!

Rarity: The map wouldn’t have chosen just Applejack and me if it was more than we could handle. (Close-up of them.) Everything is going to be just fine.

(The view quickly swivels 180 degrees around an invisible vertical center pivot, presenting the same view of the pair—now standing outside and staring at whatever is ahead of them with great discomfort.)

Rarity: (dumbfounded) Perhaps I spoke too soon.

(Cut to their perspective, panning/cutting/tilting up slowly through the view that greets them: a wildly overgrown stretch of park land with badly deteriorated benches, a rearing-mare statue stained with moss and marred by climbing vines, a covered stage that looks as if it might be one hard wind away from a total collapse. Cut to behind all three mares, standing at the edge of this train wreck of a park, then to a close-up.)

Coco: Oh, dear. You’re right. Are you sure you can manage this by yourself?

Applejack: Well, there’s a lot to do, but Rarity’s right. (pacing; all three smile) The map wouldn’t have called us here if we weren’t up for the challenge. (waving the others off) You two go on and take care of the costumes. I’ll see you at the dress rehearsal.

(Off they go; once they are well out of visual range, Applejack lets a deep uncertainty play over her face and swallows hard at the sheer magnitude of the project sets in. Dissolve to a path through the park; she pushes a wheelbarrow along with her teeth, stops, and turns her pearly whites to the job of yanking up the weeds that border the route. One after another is uprooted and spat into the wheelbarrow, and a clock wipe marks the passage of time and shows it now piled high. The earth pony, now tired and dirty, wipes her forehead and looks out with a relieved smile that goes bye-bye in no time flat. A zoom out reveals why: the weeds cover a vast expanse of the park, and she has managed to clear only a few square feet of ground. She puts a hoof wearily to her forehead.)

(The wheels of a “cylinder” lawnmower roll past in extreme close-up, followed by four badly scuffed orange-tan hooves; behind the lot, the view wipes to a ground-level view of the out-of-control grass. The mower makes a return trip, then is steered along a straightaway to get the weeds lining it. Applejack’s hat catches on a low-hanging branch and winds up dangling from its end for a second before it falls off and drops o.s. Here she comes with the mower; there comes the sound of cloth shredding, in time with a burst of brown fragments from ground level, and she stops with a horrified stare. A bend and nip allow her to bring up the tattered remains of her hat in her teeth; she stares dully at the wreck.)

(Wipe to an extreme close-up of a small weed growing in the middle of a path. Applejack’s hooves step up to it, and she bends down—now wearing the hat—to bite on it and yank. The first attempt yields no results, but on the second, the stem stretches and finally breaks, causing her to lose her balance and tumble backwards. She slams into the base of the park’s statue and topples onto her belly, looking up dazedly as the whole thing totters and finally comes down toward her. A last-second roll gets her in the clear, but the ruined hat falls off her head and gets mashed into the grass when the statue slams down dead center on it. Applejack stands up woozily, a bit of plant life now matted into her mane, and lets her head sink toward the ground upon taking in the damage to both the sculpture and her headwear.)

(A new scene falls into view as if it were a cut tree falling over: Applejack walking to one of the benches set up in front of the stage. Wearing the hat, now filthy as well as shredded, she removes it and sets it on one bench; as she wipes sweat from her brow, the seat cracks and breaks under the minor added weight. As she glumly regards the collapse, her tail sags of its own volition until it drags in the grass.)

(A paintbrush is drawn across the screen in two broad strokes, the view wiping behind its passage to show a paint-splattered, re-hatted Applejack using a brush in her teeth to paint a scenery flat. Zoom out to a long shot of the stage area as Rarity and Coco approach, a rack of outfits held in the unicorn’s magic. Applejack drops the brush back into the paint can.)

Applejack: I know it looks bad, but I’m movin’ as fast as I can.

(One front hoof comes down squarely in the can; she tries in vain to dislodge it and glowers over the misstep.)

Rarity: Don’t worry. We’ve still got plenty of time. Everything’s going to be—

Male voice: (British accent) Um, excuse me.

(All three turn slightly frightened eyes toward the sound; pan quickly to a quartet of earth ponies on a nearby hilltop. These are the members of the Method Mares troupe, from left to right as follows. Mare; light pink coat; deep blue eyes; two-tone grayish-purple mane/tail loosely tied back; light gray turtleneck; deep magenta beret that also appears as her cutie mark. Stallion; light gray coat; short, two-tone darker gray mane/tail; dark gray turtleneck under a tan overcoat; heavy beard stubble; eyes hidden behind black sunglasses; cutie mark not visible due to camera angle. Mare; pink-violet coat; straight, two-tone bright pink mane/tail; turtleneck striped in white and dark blue; cutie mark of a gold star; dark blue cap; eyes also concealed by black sunglasses. Stallion; orange-tan coat; curly, two-tone red-pink mane/tail; violet turtleneck; light green eyes; cutie mark of two theater tickets. The first two of these are Raspberry Beret and Onstage, respectively; the other two will be referred to as Cap and Tickets. Onstage is the one who spoke.)

Onstage: Is this where the Midsummer Theater Revival is supposed to be, par cheance?

[Note: These last two words, taken from Old French, are the source for the English word “perchance.”]

(Accompanied by the following. A gesture with a foreleg, revealing black hoof tips; lower the shade slightly to glance over them, showing dark brown eyes. Each troupe member has a British accent when he/she speaks.)

Raspberry: Uh, we’re here for the dress rehearsal.

Coco: Oh, yes! (trotting to rack) We’ve just put the finishing touches on the costumes.

Tickets: (aside, to Cap) At least those look professional.

(Cap turns her head toward him on this line, giving a flash of violet eyes behind the opaque black lenses.)

Raspberry: (crossing to rack) We’ll do a dry run of the play first, and then the fitting.

(The four move toward the stage, such as it is, as the camera zooms out to frame it. This shot frames Onstage’s cutie mark as a pair of drama masks. Applejack has removed the paint can from her hoof, but a sudden mental flash throws her into a panic.)

Applejack: No! Wait! (Close-up of a ramp leading up on the stage; she continues o.s. as Raspberry climbs it.) I haven’t got a chance to—

(Zoom out quickly to frame both of them and the entire structure, which begins to creak and sway in a most unwholesome manner. As Raspberry stares upward, paralyzed with fear, Applejack dives across to plow her off the stage just before the whole thing comes down a in a cacophony of splintering wood and a cloud of dust. This sequence reveals a small beauty mark at the left corner of Raspberry’s mouth, a detail not previously visible due to the camera angles. The haze clears to show them unharmed and lying on the grass; Applejack stands up, and both look back toward the others—Applejack worried, Raspberry indignant. Rarity comes out of her cringe, Coco takes her hooves down from her mouth, and the other three actors stare slack-jawed at the barely averted disaster. Cut to a long shot of the park.)

Applejack: (weakly) —reinforce the stage yet.

(Fade to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to an overhead shot of the now-empty park and the ruined stage. Pan to bring Coco into view, gazing down despondently from her balcony, then cut to a head-on shot. Applejack and Rarity stand inside the apartment, visible through the open balcony doors, and Applejack has cleaned herself up. Coco gives a heavy sigh.)

Coco: I just wanted to live up to Charity’s example. (She turns toward the pair.) To bring my neighborhood together again. (Gaze out again.) But the park is still a mess, we haven’t even thought about what refreshments to serve during the performance— (Cut to behind her; she turns one more time.) —and even if we had, we don’t have a stage for the Method Mares to perform on. It’s hopeless. Just…hopeless!

(Accompanied by a front hoof stomp to emphasize the last words. Once again she pivots to look dejectedly over the street; pan/zoom out to put Applejack and Rarity in the fore.)

Rarity: I don’t understand. The map summoned us here to solve a friendship problem. We’ve clearly found it, but why did it send the two of us? Why not Twilight? (pacing) I’m sure she could’ve used her magic to transform this park in an instant.

(Accompanied by a stomp of her own on the last word, muffled somewhat by the living room rug.)

Applejack: I’ve been thinkin’ the same thing. I mean, I can at least see why you’re here. Coco’s your friend, and you have an eye for costumes and all. But me? I was never gonna be able to finish a project this big. (Rarity falls dramatically back into her forelegs.)

Rarity: (hamming it up) We’ll return to Ponyville as failures! (starting to cry, makeup running) Why must this be, Applejack? Why? (She gets upright…) Why? Why?

(…and promptly gets her mouth corked with one of the farmer’s hooves. The waterworks instantly stop, and all traces of the tear stains vanish.)

Applejack: Now hold on there. I’m not suggestin’ we pack up and go home.

(Rarity tries to say something, but it comes out as a muffled, garbled mess due to the hoof still in her mouth. She shoves it away and tries again.)

Rarity: Then what are you suggesting?

Applejack: I’m suggestin’ we stop worryin’ about what we can’t do and start doin’ what we can. (The balcony; she steps out next to Coco, followed by Rarity.) I think I’ve got a plan. It won’t be anythin’ big or fancy, but it’ll be somethin’. (She and Rarity smile.) And somethin’s gotta be better than nothin’, right?

Coco: (listlessly) I suppose so.

Applejack: That’s the spirit! (Smiles run away from her and Rarity.) Sorta.

(To the sound of a nail being hammered in, the view dissolves to an extreme close-up of this very task. Once the head is flush with the board, cut to Applejack on the job, putting the finishing touches on a new, curtained stage. A tool belt is strapped around her midsection, and she tucks the hammer into one of its pouches before addressing herself o.s.)

Applejack: All right, y’all!

(Long shot of the structure, which has been built at the park entrance so that it fronts directly onto the sidewalk. A marquee of tragedy/comedy masks has been added up top, and a light hangs from either end of the proscenium. It is now sunset, and Rarity and Coco stand watching.)

Applejack: It’s ready!

(The Manehattan mare beams at the sight, receiving a smile from her Ponyville friend, and the builder jumps down just before Onstage pokes his head out through the curtains. He has shed his shades, and the edge of his shirt collar indicates that he has also changed his clothes.)

Onstage: (whispering) Should we go ahead and start?

(Coco nods placidly as Applejack steps out next to her and Rarity, having jettisoned the hardware; now the thespian pulls his head back and the curtain slides open. The scene is an office; he stands behind a desk as Raspberry enters. All of the scenery and props consist of wooden flats that have been roughly cut and painted. Onstage has donned a light gray suit jacket, dark gray dress shirt, and black necktie, while Raspberry now wears the mane/tail style, glasses, fur-lined jacket, and necklace that match the appearance of Charity in Coco’s album. Both have sheet of paper taped over their cutie marks—a dollar sign for Onstage, Charity’s pinned red heart for Raspberry. A rack of dresses is pushed into view from backstage with the aid of a long hooked cane.)

Raspberry: Excuse me. I’m Charity Kindheart. I’m here about the open design position. (gesturing to rack) I brought some samples of my work.

(The edge of the stage, framing the three spectators now haunch-sitting in front of it. A passing mare aims a funny look toward the performance.)

Raspberry: (from o.s.) I’m sorry I’m late. I had the hardest time finding my way here. (voice breaking; the newcomer sits to watch) I just moved here— (Back to her.) —and I keep getting mixed up by the street names! I had a map, but I dropped it in a puddle— (crying) —which only made the street names harder to read!

(Stage edge again; an earth pony mare walks past with her pegasus daughter, who stops and frantically gestures for her to do the same.)

Onstage: (from o.s.) I see.

Filly: (to her mother) What is that?

Mother: I don’t know, sugar. Looks like some kind of play.

Filly: Well, can we stay and watch it, please? Please, can we? (hovering up to her level) Can we?

Mother: (pushing her gently down) Oh, all right. (smiling) I suppose we could stay for a minute.

(Now Tickets enters the scene. Glasses, short-sleeved light green sweater marked with an alligator head, fake cutie mark of a baseball.)

Tickets: Excuse me— (bowing, gesturing behind himself) —but your next appointment is here. (Mother and daughter join the audience.)

Onstage: All right. Send him in. (Tickets backs offstage; he turns to Raspberry.) I’m sorry, but based on these samples, I just don’t think this is the place for you. (She snaps upright with a lung-bursting gasp.) Don’t get me wrong. These clothes are all exquisite and well-made, but more theatrical than avant-garde. Have you considered costume design? I have a contact on Bridleway. If you’re interested— (Raspberry drops to her haunches with a grateful smile.) —I can put you in touch with him. (Pause.) And scene.

(The curtains close, and a murmuring of voices causes Applejack/Rarity/Coco to glance behind themselves. They are rewarded with the sight of quite a few ponies who have paused their chase through the streets of Manehattan to see what is going on. All three turn their eyes back to the stage with satisfied smiles; now the curtains open for a new scene—Cap, wearing a flowered hat and pearl necklace and sitting on her haunches in the park. She tosses seed from a real bag to the prop birds before her, and a real cane is hooked onto a nearby prop bench. A bit of makeup has been applied to make her appear older, and her tail hides her taped-on cutie mark for the moment; both it and her mane are in a slightly untidy curled style now. She turns to address Raspberry in an older-mare voice as the latter pushes a cart full of outfits into view with her head.)

Cap: Charity, dear! Is that you? (The birds “fly” away.)

Raspberry: Hello, Mrs. Pearblossom. I didn’t see— (She exaggeratedly tosses a real cloth out of the cart.) Oops!

(It lands at the edge of the stage; cut to the mother and her filly, now watching raptly.)

Cap: (from o.s.) Oh, let me help you, dear.

(Back to the stage; now standing, she picks up a second fallen piece. Now the ersatz mark can be seen as a pear and flower.)

Cap: Are these the costumes you’ve been working on?

Raspberry: Yes. (Birds “fly” across.) I was supposed to be finished by now, but there’s just so much to do! (pulling a third cloth from cart) And I still have a few last-minute alterations to make before opening night! I’m sorry I couldn’t get enough tickets for everypony in the neighborhood.

(Long overhead shot of the stage and the slowly growing knot of spectators; pan slowly across.)

Raspberry: (hidden by roof) I hope Mr. Pearblossom wasn’t too disappointed.

(The stage again; now Cap is leaning on her cane.)

Raspberry: I know Trotter on the Roof is one of his favorites.

Cap: Oh, my dear filly, don’t worry about that. (touching Raspberry’s shoulder) We’re so proud of you. We shall be with you in spirit!

Raspberry: Thank you! You’ve all made me feel so welcome here, and have become like family to me.

(Cut to the crowd; now an earth pony stallion, a construction worker, walks up. The popcorn vendor from Act Two has pulled her cart in behind them all.)

Raspberry: (from o.s.) I just wish I could share this experience with you and the others.

Worker: (to the nearest spectator) Uh, what’s goin’ on?

Spectator: It’s the Midsummer Theater Revival. The Method Mares are performing.

Worker: (smiling, sighing) The Revival. Hm. Yeah, my pop used to bring me.

(He takes a seat on his haunches and removes his hard hat, holding it over his chest. Dissolve to a stretch of the city skyline, the sun slowly sinking behind the buildings and darkening the sky.)

Cap: (voice over) It’s so nice of you to put on this play for the neighborhood. (Cut to a slow pan through the crowd.)

Raspberry: (from o.s.) I couldn’t have done it without everypony’s help.

(Up on the stage; she runs a length of real fabric through a prop sewing machine as Cap watches, leaning on her cane.)

Raspberry: I know it’s not Bridleway, but—

Cap: (waving her off) Oh, pish-tosh. It’s perfect, dear.

(The crowd again; a filly with a balloon prances cheerfully across behind the popcorn vendor. Pan to follow her and stop on an elderly mare easing her way up through the rows with the help of a walker. A stubble-chinned business stallion steps aside to make room for her.)

Mare 5: (laughing) Oh! You’re such a dear. Thank you. This is so nice. Haven’t seen the neighborhood this friendly since Charity moved away.

(Coco blushes at these words, and Rarity puts a gentle hoof to her chest before trading a high five with Applejack. The crowd applauds and cheers as all four Method Mares take the stage and bow, the scenery having been reset to the office and Tickets having donned a gray suit jacket, white shirt, and red tie.)

Onstage: Thank you, fillies and gentle-colts. Please give a warm welcome to the one who made this entire event possible—our neighbor, Coco Pommel!

(The unexpected honoree grins bashfully as the crowd voices its high opinion of her. Within seconds, they have closed ranks and hoisted her overhead, passing her from hoof to hoof and setting her on the stage. Onstage takes a step back to make room for her; she clears her throat before speaking.)

Coco: Thank you all so much for coming. The Midsummer Theater Revival was always something that meant so much to me, and it seems it means quite a lot to all of you as well. (Close-up.) I really can’t take all the credit, though.

(Zoom out; Rarity enters from the wings, followed by a shakily grinning Applejack.)

Coco: My dear friends Rarity and Applejack helped me ever so much.

(Unicorn bows, earth pony blushes and somehow manages to wave without keeling over, and the crowd goes wild for some seconds.)

Rarity: Oh, darling, please, it was just a few costumes.

Applejack: (blushing again) Aw, shucks. I just happen to be good with a hammer, is all. To be honest, we had much bigger plans to start. (Longer shot; her voice echoes slightly over the crowd.) When those fell through, we decided to simplify. This here was the result.

Rarity: (echoing) Oh, don’t be so modest. (Close-up; echo ends.) Coco and I were lost.

Coco: You bet your boots we were!

(She winks at Applejack, who returns it. Dissolve to a pan through the crowd, now broken up into a multitude of happy conversations; the Method Mares are scattered among them, having changed into their civilian clothes and mane/tail styles and removed their prop cutie marks. Stop on Applejack and Rarity as an earth pony mare walks up to them, accompanied by the dandy stallion who blew them off in Act Two.)

Mare 6: We just wanted to say how much we enjoyed the Midsummer Theater Revival, and how much it inspired us.

Applejack: Oh, yeah?

Dandy stallion: I used to think that to help my community, I had to do something big. (Chuckle.) And let’s face it, in this day and age, who has the time for such a commitment? But here, you did something as simple as building a stage and putting on a play, and— (Another chuckle; he gestures around himself.) —look at how it’s brought everypony together.

Mare 6: I saw Coco’s flyers for volunteers, but didn’t think anything I’d have time to do would be that useful. (Close-up of Applejack and Rarity; she continues o.s.) Now I wish I’d offered to help. (Back to her.) Even if it was just pulling a few weeds or planting a few flowers.

Applejack: Not sure if you noticed, but— (gesturing toward park) —the park is far from bein’ fixed up.

(Cut to a slow pan across the collapsed stage and weed-choked audience area.)

Applejack: (from o.s.) I imagine if you look around, you’ll find there’s lots of little ways for you to get involved in changin’ this place for the better.

(On the second half of this line, cut to just outside the sidewalk fence and tilt down toward the sidewalk, picking out the glut of weeds and the stains on the concrete from old spills. The camera then cuts back to the four after she finishes.)

Mare 6: And I will!

Dandy stallion: (as both leave, touching his hat brim) And I don’t think we’ll be alone.

(Applejack’s and Rarity’s cutie marks flare up after they have gone. Extreme close-up of the three apples, then zoom out to frame both eyeing their own haunches—Applejack with a grin, Rarity with some surprise that shifts into a tranquil smile.)

Applejack: (rearing up) Yahoo! (They laugh and embrace.) We did it! (Rarity gasps and pulls loose; the marks go quiet.)

Rarity: I understand now! It all makes perfect sense! (She trots purposefully o.s.)

Applejack: (puzzled) Huh?

(Her confusion grows as the familiar magic aura envelops her mangled hat and lifts it away. It is dropped into a handy trash can, the camera zooming out to show it next to the hat vendor’s cart from Act One. Rarity passes some money over to the heavyset stallion, who is in a much better mood than when they first ran afoul of him.)

Rarity: (levitating two hats off the cart) I know why the map called you here!

(One of them is an exact match for the one she threw out; the other is stacked on top of it. This extra one is returned to the shelf.)

Applejack: You do? (She smiles as the brown one settles itself on her head—a perfect fit.)

Rarity: If Twilight had used her magic to fix the park— (Minor adjustment.) —it wouldn’t have fixed the real problem—which is that these Manehattan ponies didn’t think they had time to do something for their community.

(Her perspective on the end of this: Applejack looking out at the display of goodwill among the spectators.)

Rarity: But by building that stage and making sure the play went on— (Cut to frame both.) —you showed them that just by doing something small, you can make a big difference!

Applejack: Well, I’ll be!

Rarity: (stepping closer, linking a foreleg with Applejack’s) Seems you have more in common with the Manehattan ponies than you thought. (Big grin.)

Applejack: (chuckling) But all the same… (They start off down the sidewalk.) …I’d sure like to head back to Ponyville on the next train. I want to check in with Apple Bloom and find out how the Sisterhooves Social turned out.

Rarity: Oh, absolutely, my dear. (She stops short and points ahead, suddenly horrified.) Just as soon as I stop that pony in the shop over there from purchasing that dreadfully hideous scarf! (addressing herself across the street) STOOOOOP!! (galloping away) You’re making a terrible mistake!

(Applejack just sighs good-naturedly and crosses one foreleg over the other. Fade to black.)

(The usual closing theme does not accompany the credits. In its place is the bluegrass-style melody that played over Applejack’s solo efforts to clean up the park on her own. B flat major, lively 4, banjo/drum/tuba; starting on the fifth bar, a faint, repeating metallic clang comes in, as of a pickaxe striking rock.)

BROTHERHOOVES SOCIAL

Written by Dave Polsky

Produced by Devon Cody

Story editing by Meghan McCarthy

Consulting direction by Jayson Thiessen

Supervising direction by Jim Miller

Directed by Denny Lu

Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)

Prologue

(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of Sweet Apple Acres during the day. Zoom in slowly.)

Granny Smith: (voice over) Aw, snickerdoodle! Where is the darn thing?

(Cut to a close-up of her inside the main barn, glaring angrily into an open box.)

Granny: (groaning) I wish for once I’d remembered to label these boxes!

(Longer shot: she is standing on one, and she uses another as a step down to the floor. The end of a ladder poking up through an opening in the boards indicates that she is in the hayloft; cobwebs and stains are in abundance up here.)

Granny: Uh, Big Mac— (Pan to bring Big Macintosh into view.) —be a dear and help me move those… (eyeing a box) …maybe it’s in that one on the bottom.

(Two sizable crates are stacked on it, but the workhorse ducks to get his nose underneath and easily lifts them away. Granny approaches the container; cut to the darkened interior, filled with toys, as she pushes the lid aside and looks in. Hopefulness gives way to irritation; on the start of the next line, cut back to her and Macintosh.)

Granny: Oh, dagnabit, it’s not in there either!

(He has set the two crates aside. She clomps petulantly back across the loft, but the sound of Apple Bloom’s laughter from outside draws Macintosh to the window. Cut to just outside it, concern registering on his face.)

Bloom: (from o.s.) You can’t catch me!

(Zoom out to frame both her and Applejack in the barnyard; both laugh as the older sister chases the younger, who has a bowling pin in her mouth. A sidestep by Applejack allows her to cut off Bloom, who spits the item away.)

Bloom: Hey! (She charges off, Applejack following.)

Applejack: (fading out) You trickster! (Back to Macintosh inside.)

Granny: (from o.s.) Sisterhooves Social is right around the corner. (Cut to her, looking over other boxes.) Thought it’d be nice to award the winner of the big race a ribbon from when we hosted the very first Social.

(Being the event that figured prominently in the episode of the same name three seasons ago. Now the old green mare scratches her chin in thought before poking around again.)

Granny: If’n of course I can find the darn thing.

(She comes up with a toy locomotive and tosses it aside, moving across the loft to check another stack. A few toys tumble out of a box when she knocks it over; she smiles and points at a wooden dragonfly mounted by its thorax on the end of a stick.)

Granny: Oh, would you looky here!

(Macintosh turns toward her; close-up of the insect plaything, zooming in slowly.)

Granny: (from o.s., wistfully) My, how Apple Bloom used to love watchin’ you make that thing fly. (Back to the two; he crosses to her.) It’s like she thought you used magic. (She snaps back to business.) Hah! Right. Enough reminiscin’. (pacing) Gotta find that ribbon!

(Her grandson throws a fond smile toward the dragonfly and gets its stick in his teeth. Meanwhile, Granny is standing on a box.)

Granny: If you would just help me pull— (pushing, straining) —this—here—box— (She sinks to her haunches; zoom out to show Macintosh gone.) —then maybe I could…

(She stands and turns away from the stack, fully taking in his absence.)

Granny: …uh, Big Mac?

(The cardboard on which she is standing gives way. Down she goes into the box, putting her head up through the hole with a blue ribbon on the end of her nose; the whole thing topples over and the decoration falls off to hit the floor.)

Granny: (smiling) Found her!

(Fade to black.)

OPENING THEME

Act One

(Opening shot: fade in to Applejack and Bloom standing inside the barnyard fence. Both rise to their hind legs and tap their front hooves in rhythm with the first line of the following.)

Applejack, Bloom:                 S-I-S-T-E-R-S!

(Drop to all fours; tap a hind hoof together, then the front hooves again.)

                                Which two sisters are the best?

(rearing up) We are! Apple Bloom and Applejack forever! Yee-hoo!

Bloom: We’re gonna win every competition at the Sisterhooves Social! (touching Applejack’s chest; zoom out to show Macintosh watching) Those other fillies aren’t gonna know what hit ’em!

(Big sister takes notice of even bigger brother, who still has the dragonfly toy in his mouth.)

Applejack: Oh! Hey there, Big Mac. (Close-up of him, grinning around the stick; she continues o.s.) Did you want somethin’?

Macintosh: Ee-yup. (Zoom out to put Bloom in the fore.)

Bloom: Hold that thought. (turning from him) Applejack, you are the most awesome sister ever! (Close-up of a blushing Applejack.)

Applejack: (laughing, blushing) Aw, gee whiz. Well, I think it’s sweet that you hold that opinion, but—

Bloom: (from o.s.) It’s not opinion. (Cut to frame all three.) It’s objective fact! You’ve saved Equestria, like, a gazillion times, you’re smart, funny, strong—why, you’re the best sister of all time! (leaning into Applejack’s face; she grins) Probably the best Apple of all time! (over shoulder) Right, Big Mac?

(Caught completely off guard by this torrent of praise, he scrambles to get the grin back on his face.)

Macintosh: Ee-yup.

Bloom: (circling around Applejack) And with you by my side, I am guaranteed to taste sweet, sweet Sisterhooves Social victory!

(Macintosh nervously scratches one foreleg with the other, Applejack picking up on his mood.)

Bloom: (improvising a few dance steps) Go, Apples! Go, go! Go, Apples, go!

(She ends with a twirling leap, coming down on her haunches.)

Applejack: Uh, Apple Bloom? (pointing past her) I think Big Mac’s got somethin’ he wants to show you.

(The stallion gleefully shifts the toy from teeth to front hooves, and after rotating the stick back and forth a couple of times, he releases it into the air. It follows a high, tight arc, remaining vertical as a whirling blur, and finally clatters to the earth at Bloom’s hooves in close-up. Zoom out to frame all three siblings.)

Bloom: Oh, hey. Is that the toy we used to play with when I was little?

Macintosh: Ee-yup.

Bloom: Neat. (to Applejack) All right, then! Let’s get back to practicin’.

(She bounds away, missing both Applejack’s look of puzzlement and Macintosh’s disappointed expression as he turns back toward the barn. Close-up of the orange-tan farmer, zooming out to frame the filly on the start of the next line; she has a stack of three bowling pins balanced on her nose.)

Bloom: One more run-through of our jugglin’ routine… (They fall off.) …make sure our harmonies are tight in our song… (Hold up a pie.) …and see if we can’t beat our best pie-eatin’ time.

Applejack: Hold on, sugar cube. I need a minute to talk with Big Mac. (She heads for the barn; Bloom drops to her haunches.)

Bloom: (calling after her) Mind if I go ahead and start eatin’ this pie?

(With no response immediately forthcoming, she buries her face in the dessert, splattering filling all over herself. Cut to inside the barn; Macintosh is at the far end, hammering a piece of metalwork at an anvil, and Applejack walks in.)

Applejack: Hey, Big Mac. (He pauses.) You all right? (Hammer is set down.)

Macintosh: (sighing with irritation, pacing) Yup.

Applejack: You sure? You seemed a little down back there.

Macintosh: (scoffing) Nope. (A loose pitchfork is picked up and leaned against the wall.)

Applejack: Come on. (smiling) You can tell me. You feelin’ a little left out? Apple Bloom and I have been spendin’ a lot of time together gettin’ ready for the Social.

(He turns to face her, opens his mouth to speak—and is interrupted by the flare of Applejack’s cutie mark.)

Applejack: (gasping) What in the—?

(Close-up of the three apples sounding off on her haunch, then zoom out slightly as Bloom leans in close with a smile and gasp. Her face is now clean of pie residue.)

Bloom: Your cutie mark! (hopping around excitedly) You’re being summoned, Applejack! This is so cool! (Close-up of Macintosh.)

Macintosh: (sighing bitterly) Yup.

Bloom: (from o.s.) Wonder where you’re being called to. (His eyes pop, then a grimace; all three again.) Wonder what you’re supposed to do when you get there. (zipping to Applejack) Obviously it is something awesome because you’re awesome!

(A thought strikes under the red mane and pink bow, and she begins to pace and become increasingly worried.)

Bloom: But…but if you’re being summoned to solve a friendship problem, that means you’ll have to miss the Sisterhooves Social! And if you have to miss the Social, then I’ll have to miss the Social! (dropping to haunches) Which means I won’t be able to taste sweet, sweet victory!

(She ends with a hyperventilation fit and front hooves pressed to temples. A look of great concern passes between the green eyes of her siblings before Applejack steps forward.)

Applejack: Now calm down. Let me just go over to Twilight’s castle and see what’s what. (smiling) Maybe it’s just a false alarm.

(Zoom in on the distraught little pony, whose spirits brighten considerably at this prospect, then cut to her standing on her hind legs to block the kitchen doorway. Panic has set in all over again, and a bindle knotted onto a stick is extended toward her.)

Bloom: But you said it was a false alarm!

(Zoom out on the start of the next line to frame Applejack addressing her in the kitchen; the bindle is propped up against the door, and the cutie mark has gone quiet.)

Applejack: I said maybe it’s a false alarm. Well, it’s not. Rarity and I have to go to Manehattan.

Bloom: Can’t you just tell that map it’ll have to wait a couple days?

Applejack: No can do, sugar cube. When duty calls, I gotta answer right away. (patting Bloom’s head, pulling her closer) What kind of an example would I be settin’ for my little sister if I didn’t?

(These lines establish the current time frame as being immediately before the start of “Made in Manehattan.” Bloom pulls away from her sister’s grip.)

Bloom: This can’t be happening! (galloping farther into the barn) Your extreme awesomeness is backfiring on me!

(The blond mare sighs heavily as Macintosh steps to the door.)

Applejack: I’m sorry, Apple Bloom. (to Macintosh) Try and cheer her up, won’t you?

Macintosh: Ee-yup.

(Getting the bindle settled just so, she walks past him and into the great wide open. Dissolve to a long shot of the main barn, zooming in slowly. The sound of a clanging iron triangle cuts the tranquility.)

Granny: (voice over) Breakfast! Come and get it!

(Cut to a close-up of a downcast Bloom sitting at the dining room table, her bow drooping to underscore her glumness. The family matriarch walks over, gripping the edge of a plate of greens and fruit in her teeth, and sets it down in front. Bloom averts her eyes from the grub as the camera zooms out slightly to frame the edge of Macintosh’s chin and hitching collar across the table. Granny throws a split-second glance his way; after a chin-scratching moment of thought, he regards his own plate—two whole carrots and some lettuce—and smacks the whole thing into his own face. When he pulls the plate away, the carrots are stuck under his upper lip like tusks, the greens from their tops have wound up in his ears, and he has a pair of lettuce-leaf eyebrows, which he waggles comically. The culinary silliness gets nothing even resembling a rise out of Bloom; instead, she puts her head down on the table and pushes her plate away.)

Granny: Oh, it’s no use, Big Mac. If I know my Apple Bloom, she won’t come out of a funk this funky ’til her big sister gets back.

(Nipping the plate’s edge in her teeth, she carries it away; Macintosh’s goofy grin evaporates as one of the carrot tusks drops from his mouth. A knock and the sound of a door opening startle him back to the here and now, and the camera zooms out slightly on the start of the next line. An exterior door stands near the table; Sweetie Belle has opened its bottom half and is standing here.)

Sweetie: Hey, Apple Bloom. (Bloom lifts her head.) The Social’s gonna start in a few hours. Thought you might want to go with us. (She steps in, Scootaloo taking her place.)

Scootaloo: Since Rarity and Applejack are out of town, you and Sweetie Belle can cheer on me and Rainbow Dash instead.

Sweetie: (to her) Pretty great they’re letting you participate even though you’re not technically sisters.

Granny: (from o.s.) Well— (Cut to her in the kitchen.) —Social’s always had a pretty loose definition of what consti-ma-tutes a sister. As long as you share a bond that represents the spirit of the Social, you’re in. (The table again; Sweetie slides up alongside Bloom.)

Sweetie: So what do you say? (Scootaloo joins her.)

Scootaloo: You coming?

Bloom: (listlessly) Why not? Got nothin’ better to do. Let me wash up and I-I’ll meet you in a little bit.

(Exeunt two worried fillies, leaving the third to go face-first onto the table again. A sigh from the o.s. Granny; cut back to her.)

Granny: (crossing kitchen) Such a shame we don’t live closer to all your second cousins. (reaching table; Macintosh has shed all his facial produce and stares wide-eyed) You could maybe do the Social with one of them instead.

(Close-up of the stallion, whose mental gears begin to turn under the messy orange mane, twisting the mouth up into a knowing smile. Zoom out to frame Granny watching intently.)

Granny: What is it, Big Mac? (The smile becomes a grin.) Y’all got an idea?

Macintosh: Ee-yup!

Bloom: (from o.s., eagerly) What? (She jumps across to him, her bow perked up.) What is it?

(Zoom in slowly as he stitches on a more calculating sort of grin that takes the smile right off Bloom’s face. A dissolve shifts the scene to a slow pan through a stretch of meadow that has been set up with tents and banners for the Social, including a table at which mare/filly pairs have lined up to sign in. Carrot Top and her younger sister walk off along a path as Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo pass them.)

Scootaloo: Today’s our big day!

Rainbow: We have so got this. I’m gonna go sign us in. (She heads for the table as Sweetie walks up.) 

Sweetie: (to Scootaloo, scratching back of neck) I guess I’m just a little jealous you two get to compete and I don’t. (smiling) But at least I get to be here and cheer you on. (Big grin from Scootaloo; she looks behind herself.) I thought Apple Bloom was gonna be here too.

Scootaloo: Guess she changed her mind.

(Zoom out from the pair to put Bloom in the fore, walking nervously across the path. She halts at Scootaloo’s next words.)

Scootaloo: (waving) Hey, there you are! (She and Sweetie walk up.) You ready to cheer on me and Rainbow Dash to victory?

Bloom: Uh…not exactly. Seems I’m gonna get to participate after all.

(Spoken with much more unease than enthusiasm; Sweetie, on the other hand, pulls in a happy little gasp.)

Sweetie: Applejack is back from Manehattan already? (She jumps toward Bloom, knocking her to her back and standing on her belly.) That must mean Rarity is back too!

Bloom: No, our sisters are still gone. (gradually pushing Sweetie off, standing up) But it, uh…turns out my long-lost cousin…Orchard Blossom was able to make it last-minute.

(She finishes with a lame chuckle as the white filly gets upright.)

Sweetie: Your cousin Who-What, now?

(A male falsetto voice cuts in here, surprising both her and Scootaloo. It carries a thick Southern drawl.)

Falsetto voice: Well, I do declare—

(Cut to the speaker—Macintosh, wearing a dress whose pale blue skirt is patterned with light pink apples, and whose sleeveless white blouse has darker pink collar/waist trim and a matching bow at the neckline. He has also donned dark blue shoes on all four hooves, removed his hitching collar, and made up his face. His shaggy orange mane is hidden under a two-tone pale blond bouffant wig with a fringe of ringlets and a flower tucked in on one side. The front shoes have small pink bows attached, and lacy pink bloomers can be glimpsed under the skirt. Until/unless otherwise noted, he will speak in the affected Southern-belle voice.)

Macintosh: —it’s hotter today than the business end of a corncob pipe!

(Pulling a handkerchief out of his neckline on the end of this, he proceeds to wipe his neck while delivering his best attempt at a demure giggle. Scootaloo and Sweetie can only goggle slack-jawed at the sight of him, their minds having completely shorted out; behind them, Bloom grimaces to herself at this sudden spell of idiocy on her big brother’s part. Snap to black.)

Act Two

(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of Macintosh’s shoes and tilt up to his face. Having stowed the handkerchief, he bats his eyelashes coyly before turning to address Scootaloo and Sweetie.)

Macintosh: Oh, my! I’m so delighted to meet your little friends, Apple Bloom. (hunching down to them) Would these be your dear and beloved Cutie Mark Crusaders?

(This shot picks out the small white apple set at the center of each shoe bow.)

Bloom: (sighing heavily) Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, Cousin Orchard Blossom. (He stands up.)

Macintosh: It is my extraordinary pleasure to make your acquaintance.

(These two are not amused, and the glares they shoot toward their third partner in mayhem are met by a big dopey “please don’t kill me” grin. Long silence.)

Sweetie: That’s Big Mac in a dress. (Bloom drops to her haunches, tapping front hooves together.)

Macintosh: (feigning confusion) Big Mac? Why, as charmed as I am that you find me in the slightest resemblance to such a…a…a fine and noble product of the Apple clan— (walking past them; Bloom is now standing again) —I’m astonished in equal measure. (Stop.) However, I shall take this startling observation under advisement— (Cut to the Crusaders; he leans down to Sweetie as he continues.) —given that it’s from such an astute and perceptive filly as yourself, Sweetie Belle.

(She gives him a cocked-eyebrow smile, then lets it become more genuine as he straightens up again.)

Sweetie: That’s awful nice of you to say, Cousin Orchard Blossom. (Bloom gapes at her in disbelief and disgust.) I’ve been told before I’m pretty observant.

Macintosh: I haven’t the slightest doubt.

(Cut to an older earth pony mare on duty at the sign-in table, filling out a sheet with the pencil in her mouth.)

Macintosh: (from o.s.) Pardon me!

(She looks up with a smile, but the pencil falls free when her whole face goes slack with shock a moment later. Cut to her perspective, tilting up to frame the inauthentic cousin now across the table from her as well as the very scared eyes of the yellow filly hunkering down alongside.)

Macintosh: My dearest cousin Applejack is regrettably unable to be here as planned, so I— (fluffing wig ringlets) —her cousin Orchard Blossom—

(Her perspective, panning slowly along the three dumbstruck ponies behind the table. All are advanced in years, and the last is an earth pony stallion.)

Macintosh: —will accompany Apple Bloom in her stead.

(The stallion puts on a hopeful little grin and adjusts his bolo tie; back to Macintosh.)

Macintosh: I trust that’s acceptable to all concerned?

Rainbow: (from o.s., skeptically) Cousin Orchard Blossom, huh?

(His eyes pop; cut to frame her and Scootaloo now in line behind the Apple pair. The younger pegasus has a hoof to her mouth to stop a giggle.)

Rainbow: I know Applejack has a lot of relatives— (He turns to her.) —but I feel like she would have mentioned you. (He thinks fast before smiling and speaking.)

Macintosh: Why, you must be Rainbow Dash! You’re Scootaloo’s…mm… (stammering a bit) …how are y’all related again?

Rainbow: Hmm. (Unsettled glance between her and Scootaloo; then a smile.) Why don’t I just let you finish signing in?

(She throws a grin to the stallion in drag, then leans close with all her good cheer instantly gone.)

Rainbow: (softly) But don’t think me and Scootaloo are gonna take it easy on you just ’cause you’re a stallion!

(She walks away on the end of this, leaving him to stare bug-eyed after her and then turn to the sign-in table with a laugh. He leans onto the end of the table opposite the old stallion, resting his forelegs on the wood.)

Macintosh: Now where were we?

(The table legs buckle under his weight, causing that end to drop sharply toward the ground and take him down with it.)

Bloom: (trying to smile) Um…excuse me. I have to…go to the bathroom! (She bugs out; Macintosh stands up with a grunt.)

Macintosh: (addressing himself after her) You mean “powder your muzzle,” don’t you, dear? (to the sign-in trio) Such a more, uh, feminine-like reference to nature’s call, don’t you agree?

(The two mares trade slightly discomfited looks, while the geriatric Casanova just lifts his overgrown eyebrows above a grin that has now taken on a slightly greasy tone. Cut to Sweetie walking through the grounds and aiming a slightly apprehensive look back over her shoulder. She stops, glancing this way and that, and the camera zooms out to frame Bloom, trying to hide behind a small barrel but still in the unicorn’s line of sight.)

Sweetie: Have they called your brother’s bluff yet?

Bloom: No, but they’re about to! (hoof to face) I can’t bear to watch!

Macintosh: (from o.s.) Yoo-hoo! (Pan quickly to him, waving from a few yards away.) Apple Bloo-oom! (walking toward her) They’ve approved us as a pair! (giggling) Hurry along now, precious.

Bloom: (to Sweetie) I can’t believe they bought it!

Sweetie: It’s sweet he wants to help you out like this. Weird, but sweet.

(The red-maned filly takes no comfort in those words as she trudges grudgingly into the open. Dissolve to an overhead shot of a stage on which one sister team is finishing up a vocal performance for the crowd. Banners with musical notes are hung from poles, a single large note tops the backstage tent, and an announcer stallion in a white shirt, striped vest, and boater hat is running a phonograph at the curtain opening. The two take a bow as the spectators applaud.)

Announcer: (stepping up front) Bravo! Bravo!

(This shot picks out the dark gray apron he wears over his shirt/vest, as well as the bolo tie encircling his collar. The sisters leave the stage.)

Announcer: Weren’t those two sisters great? (Crowd quiets down.) Now, where are our next competitors? (Here come Bloom and Macintosh from one side.)

Macintosh: (singsong) Here we are!

 (As reluctant as Bloom may be to get up there, a playful shove in the rump by her “cousin” persuades her to get her hooves moving. Now backstage, the announcer pushes forth a crate filled with records for consideration. Bloom walks queasily onto the stage, while Macintosh tosses his ringlets to the announcer’s great consternation and pulls a record out of his blouse.)

Macintosh: (passing it over) This one, please. (He heads out.)

Announcer: Excellent choice…ma’am!

Bloom: (softly, to Macintosh) You sure you know all the words? ’Cause it took Applejack a pretty long time to get it down.

Macintosh: (softly) Did it now?

(Needle hits vinyl; crank is turned; zoom in on the pair.)

Bluegrass mandolin melody with tambourine beats

Triplet feel, slow 4 (D major)

(Bloom’s nerves gradually give way to a smile.)

Bloom, Macintosh:                We all love our brothers, and our fathers and mothers

(They turn to face each other, holding out one front hoof to touch.)

                                We honor them like every family should

(Throw a foreleg over each other’s shoulder.)

                                But there’s something that’s quite unique when my sister’s there

     with me

                                And we share that special bond of sisterhood

Violin in

Bloom:                        Sisterhood

Macintosh:                        Sisterhood

Bloom:                        Is a special kind of friend

                                Sisterhood

Macintosh:                        Sisterhood

Bloom:                         Is a bond that never ends

Bloom, Macintosh:                It’s not always perfect, you might fight or be misunderstood

(Touch front hooves again.)

Bloom, Macintosh:                But together you’ll always have sisterhood

Macintosh:                        Sisterhood

Bloom:                        Sisterhood

(Macintosh gambols clumsily across behind Bloom.)

Macintosh:                        Sisterhood

Bloom:                        Sisterhood

(He tiptoes back to stop behind her.)

Macintosh:                         Sisterhood                (Whip out of view behind her.)

Bloom:                        Sisterhood

(Now he slides to the stage edge on his hocks and sings the next line in his own deep voice, surprising her badly.)

Macintosh:                        Sisterhood

Bloom:                         …hood

Song ends

(Her last syllable is delivered in time with his—a unison finish that went down the drain—and he lifts a foreleg in triumph as the crowd stares dumbfounded. Cut to his perspective, panning slowly through the murmuring throng; he returns to his high voice.)

Macintosh: (giggling nervously) Ee-yup!

(The old stallion from the sign-in table pops up in the back, applauds, and hurries away, giddy over having made eye contact with “Orchard.” Back to the stage.)

Bloom: (to Macintosh, chuckling uneasily) Are you okay, Cousin Orchard Blossom? You sounded like you were catchin’ a cold or… (He lowers his foreleg.) …somethin’ else that would make your voice sound totally different, right at the end of the song. (Weak chuckle; he catches himself with a gasp and smiles.)

Macintosh: (standing up) Just a frog in my throat, dear. Probably just need to get a sip of water. If you’ll excuse us, we’ve another event in which to participate.

(They make for the curtains as a couple of front-row onlookers trade puzzled glances; cut to the backstage side entrance as Macintosh emerges.)

Macintosh: Oh, my! (descending steps) That certainly didn’t go as I had planned. (Bloom hangs back.) But don’t you worry. We’ll get you a blue ribbon yet, Apple Bloom.

Bloom: (dryly) You sure about that?

Macintosh: (walking off) As sure as my name is Cousin Orchard Blossom!

Bloom: (to herself, under her breath) But that isn’t your name!

(Dissolve to an overhead shot of another stage, this one marked with a banner of a dancing-mare silhouette. Plenty of ponies have turned out to watch this contest, and the two Apples are taking their turn as the camera zooms in. They sit on their haunches facing each other, tapping front hooves together in the same rhythm as the bit that Applejack and Bloom rehearsed at the beginning of Act One.)

Bloom, Macintosh:                C-O-U-S-I-N-S!

(Stand up; get their next moves muddled a bit.)

                                Which two sis—uh, cousins are the best?

                                We are!

(Macintosh’s wig slides down over his eyes.)

Bloom, Macintosh: Apple Bloom and Appleja— (out of sync) —uh, um/I mean, Orchardjack—Blossom forever!

(By now, they have wound up facing opposite sides of the stage and away from each other. Macintosh lifts one front and one hind leg with a whoop—and enough force to send his little sister hurtling away.)

Bloom: Whoa!

(A crash of pony against wood drifts back; only now does he shift his wig out of his eyes to see the mishap, and he chews his bottom lip fearfully. Cut to a tub full of apples, from which one exasperated young earth pony puts her head up, spitting out one of the fruit as another balances on her head.)

Bloom: (woodenly) Yay.

(Dissolve to a spot several feet above the ground. A jump rope is swung up into view and down again, and Rainbow and Scootaloo leap in time with it. They are face to face on the first bound; for the second, they have each turned around so they can each put out a hind leg for a high five. Now the camera cuts to ground level; two stallions are swinging the rope ends in their mouths, and on the next jump the unofficial sisters both do a backflip and come down to slap all their rear hooves together. Their fourth takes them up into a position with heads down and legs extended out to their sides, allowing a double high five. Pan from them to Bloom and Macintosh, also jumping rope—or trying to. The apple is gone from Bloom’s head now. She easily clears the rope every time it comes around, but he cannot get even an inch of air between his hooves and the ground no matter how hard he tries. After three failed attempts, he simply steps over the rope, earning a hard-eyed squint from Bloom.)

(Wipe to another spot several feet up. Bowling pins are tossed back and forth, and the camera zooms out to show the pair doing the juggling act Bloom alluded to in Act One. Each has three pins going, and they drop onto their backs to continue the routine. Cut first to Macintosh and then Bloom, legs pistoning in rhythm to keep the pins aloft; Bloom suddenly finds herself without any and sits up to find out what has gone wrong. Across the way, Macintosh has also stopped juggling—because all six pins have fallen into his skirt and left him in a hopeless tangle of limbs and fabric.)

(Wipe to a close-up of a very out-of-sorts Bloom glaring behind herself.)

Macintosh: (from o.s.) Oh…I don’t know why I didn’t choose to wear something more casual!

(Cut to a longer shot on the end of this; he stands next to her, having sorted out his disguise and disposed of the bowling pins.)

Macintosh: Why, I knew that juggling routine like the back of my hoof! (smiling, adjusting wig) But never you mind. There is still the race to be run.

Bloom: I really appreciate all the effort, Big Ma— (catching herself) —Cousin Orchard Blossom, but maybe we just skip the whole obstacle-course thing and call it a day.

Macintosh: (crossing to her) Why, Apple Bloom! I wouldn’t hear of it! Your cousin Orchard Blossom may be many things, but she is not a quitter.

Bloom: I’m sure she’s not, but…it’s like Applejack said. There’ll be more Sisterhooves Socials down the line, and… (deflating, pawing at grass) …I’m sure she’ll help me get a blue ribbon next time around.

Macintosh: (stammering a bit) But you wanted to win at this Sisterhooves Social! And no matter what, I am gonna get you that win! (sternly, to himself) Why, I simply have to.

(Zoom in slowly on his grim-set face and snap to black.)

Act Three

(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of the Sweet Apple Acres orchards, seen from somewhere above tree height. Tilt down to give an overhead view of the starting line of the obstacle course from “Sisterhooves Social,” where competitors are gathering and spectators watch from both sides of the track. The first obstacle—the mud pit—is filled and ready, and the start of the zigzag bucket run that follows it can be seen as well.)

Rainbow: All right, Scootaloo. Remember the parts where teamwork really comes into play.

Scootaloo: How could I forget? We’ve been training all week.

Rainbow: Okay, hot stuff. What’s our move on the grape squish? (Extreme close-up of Scootaloo, in profile.)

Scootaloo: The alley-oop. (Pan back and forth between them in turn.)

Rainbow: Apple toss?

Scootaloo: Flip-flop.

Rainbow: Egg carry!

Scootaloo: Flutter bomb. (Cut to frame both again; they leap up.)

Rainbow, Scootaloo: Yeah! (High five; take their marks.)

Macintosh: (worried) Oh, dear!

Granny: (from o.s., amplified) Competi-sisters…

(Cut to her, sitting in a rocking chair on a stage just like the first time around. The only differences—aside from Macintosh not being up there with her—are that the megaphone she used back then has been replaced with a bullhorn, and that is it properly aimed toward the crowd. Her next two lines are also boosted by the rig.)

Granny: …take your positions!

(Back to the starting line, where five teams in all are tensed to start. Macintosh snorts out a puff of steam and scrapes a front hoof over the dirt.)

Granny: (from o.s.) And ready…and set… (Bloom steels herself; back to the stage.) …GOOOO!!

(All ten racers pelt over the hard-packed earth. Rainbow and Scootaloo are first to reach the mud pit and easily clear it in one leap.)

Rainbow: Nice jump, Scoot!

(They both make quick work of the bucket run. Meanwhile, Macintosh slams on the brakes as he approaches the mud pit, but his forward momentum flings him gracelessly out of his shoes. As Bloom makes her way through the buckets, the big lug comes down behind her and gets a hind leg stuck in one of them. He half-staggers, half-bounces through the rest of them, ending up caught in two, crushing two others, and kicking the last one away.)

(Up ahead is the third obstacle, the crate pyramid. Bloom takes it in one jump without any trouble, but Macintosh simply smashes through and gallops ahead. The buckets are gone from his hooves now, and he wastes no time in catching up to Bloom.)

Bloom: Woo-hoo!

(Up next: pie eating. The Apples plunge their faces into the crusts; after a moment, Macintosh lifts his head and lets go with a hearty belch, then rips the bow off his neckline and gets back to work. It is the work of perhaps one more second to down the rest of his pie, followed by an even less decorous belch that sends the empty pan flying across the table. Up comes Bloom’s face, every square inch covered with filling; she clears it all away in one lick, and they are off again.)

(They pull ahead of the pack, Macintosh’s face now clean, but Rainbow and Scootaloo are still out in front. The pegasi come up to the hay-bale push and start to move a waiting mass slowly ahead with their noggins; only for Macintosh to overtake them effortlessly. Bloom gallops a few paces back as he gets the bale over the line, and they charge ahead side by side once he flings it backward. Berry Punch and Ruby Pinch slide to an alarmed stop, finding themselves in its growing shadow, and the thing slams to the ground and hides them from view. These two sisters cautiously poke their heads out from behind opposite ends to make sure that they are, in fact, still among the living.)

(Bloom and Macintosh barrel around a turn, now leading Rainbow and Scootaloo, and come to the grape-stomping challenge. The poorly disguised stallion scoops up one pile of grapes, throwing them into the vat just in time for Bloom to leap in after them. She gets her forelegs hooked around the edge and, after a moment’s scrabbling, manages to pull herself inside. As the yellow hooves get to work pulverizing the fruit, their pegasus competitors gallop up. Rainbow pitches their pile into a vat, nimbly tosses Scootaloo in, and then joins her to double-team the grapes. Macintosh throws them a glare of naked hostility; cut to Bloom, happily converting grapes to purple pulp. The sunlight above her is blotted out by a rapidly growing shadow, and she has just enough time for one confused look up before Macintosh plunges into the vat, having chosen to copy Rainbow’s move. A blast of grape juice covers the screen, then drains away to fill one jar after another set up below the vats’ spigots. An even more puzzled Bloom gets squeezed out and ends up wedged into one of the jars, perhaps wondering if Discord might have decided to show up for this day at the races. She gets her head out and looks up at a contrite Macintosh.)

Bloom: Yikes! You almost squished me!

(Cut to the row of stools that marks the end of this obstacle. He races up, a jar of juice gripped in his teeth, and hastily sets it on one of these before galloping on. It totters back and forth on the verge of falling, and Bloom stops for a moment to put it firmly in place, having extricated herself from the jar. On she goes; now Rainbow and Scootaloo come up with their jar, and an instant later they have unloaded it and begun to pull ahead of Bloom. Next up is the chicken coop for the egg carry; Macintosh rushes in, setting off a flurry of squawks and loose feathers, and the pegasi enter next. One chicken is forcibly ejected from the entrance, followed by Macintosh’s head.)

Macintosh: Pick up those hooves, Apple Bloom! Why, you’re barely movin’ at a mosey!

(Bloom catches up, but Rainbow and Scootaloo are already exiting, each with an egg balanced on the tip of her nose. They move gingerly to the collection basket, set their cargo into it intact, and sprint on; next the entire exit-door wall of the coop bursts outward in a shower of splinters and out come the Apples, each with an egg of his/her own. Macintosh has the doorframe hooked around his neck.)

Macintosh: (out of breath, turning to walk backwards) Come on, june bug! It’s like you’ve never carried an egg before!

Bloom: (groaning) I’m goin’ as fast as I can!

(But not fast enough to avoid being overtaken by two other teams. Macintosh, meanwhile, has shed the debris and already deposited his egg, and his hooves jitter against the dirt as he waits for Bloom. Once she gently places hers in the basket, he scoops her up and gallops along, leaving nothing behind but her cry of surprise. They begin to move up through the pack, but the other teams are already clearing one hurdle after another on the final obstacle. Macintosh takes care of this minor technical hitch by simply bulldozing through one after another, ignoring Bloom’s terrified yelps that build into a full-blown scream. Up ahead, Rainbow and Scootaloo have the lead on the home stretch, but Macintosh thunders up in between them and shoulders both aside at once, eliciting a double yell as he carries Bloom over the finish line in a cloud of dust. Scootaloo thumps down on her back, head on the line and body across it, and the long-lost Apple “cousin” slides to a stop and goes into a victory dance, still holding Bloom.)

Macintosh: (holding her up; own voice) Woo-hoo!

(Dead silence. Now Rainbow can be seen also lying on the finish line, head/forelegs forward and hindquarters back. Macintosh coughs a bit, remembering the role he is supposed to be playing, and goes back to his falsetto.)

Macintosh: I mean, um… (clearing throat, setting Bloom down) …victory is ours, sweet Apple Bloom.

(Another twitch of his throat is immediately followed by the remains of his disguise going to pieces and falling off around him. The makeup vanishes from his face, and he reverts to his normal speaking voice.)

Macintosh: Uh-oh.

Mare voice: “Uh-oh,” indeed!

(Pan quickly to the speaker: one of the mares at the sign-in table, the one who was initially surprised by his appearance in Act Two. Neither she nor any of the other ponies standing around here find this the least bit funny. Back to the siblings.)

Bloom: (to Macintosh) I shoulda known you’d eventually get busted for bein’ a stallion!

Sign-in mare: (from o.s.) Oh, no.

(Zoom out slightly; she and the other mare from the table cross to the pair.)

Sign-in mare: We’ve known all along. The Sisterhooves Social has always had a loose policy when it comes to what counts as a sister.

(Cut to Bloom and Macintosh, who trade relieved little smiles at learning that all this masquerade was completely unnecessary. Back to the mare on the start of the next line.)

Sign-in mare: But we do have a strict policy when it comes to sports-ponyship. (crossing to them, addressing Bloom) In your “sister’s” desperation to win, he used brute strength to physically take out the competitors.

(On the end of this, cut to one pair—Amethyst Star and her sister—standing among the shattered remains of the crate pyramid, then pan quickly to a couple of chickens clutching fearfully at one another near the wrecked coop. A third one morosely surveys the damage. Back to the three ponies on the start of the next line.)

Sign-in mare: Uh, that kind of behavior is not just unbecoming of a lady, but, quite frankly, of anypony!

(Macintosh’s eyes widen worriedly; close-up of him, zooming in slowly.)

Sign-in mare: (from o.s.) And for that— (To Bloom; zoom in.) …you two are hereby… (All three again.) …disqualified!

(She strides off, leaving two utterly crushed siblings in her wake, Cut to a close-up of a slightly scuffed-up Rainbow, slowly working her way up to vertical.)

Rainbow: Huh. (Zoom out; Scootaloo half-sits up, also battered and rubbing her head.) Looks like we win, squirt. (The filly snaps to.)

Scootaloo: Woo-hoo!

(Two pairs of hooves reach into view, fore and aft, and lift her up off the top edge of the screen. Behind those four limbs, the view wipes to a longer shot of the finish line; the victorious pegasi are carried overhead by a knot of cheering racers and spectators. Bloom and Macintosh are left standing alone among the tatters of the stallion’s outfit.)

Bloom: (bitterly) I told you I shoulda just waited until the next Social to win with Applejack!

(She plods off; he voices a weary sigh and follows. A moment later, here comes the old stallion from the sign-in table, now carrying a bouquet of flowers meant for Orchard Blossom. Looking around for any trace of her, he sets the blooms down and confusedly picks up a scrap of the blond wig. Cut to a long shot of the foiled Lothario and zoom out slowly as one of the balloons attached to the finish-line poles pops forlornly.)

(Dissolve to a long shot of the Sweet Apple Acres barn, seen from a nearby hillside at sunset, and pan to bring Bloom and Macintosh into view underneath a tree. She paces and ponders the view, while he sits on his haunches with his hitching collar back on.)

Bloom: (sitting) You know I’m not mad, right?

Macintosh: Ee-yup.

Bloom: I mean…let’s face it. You dressin’ up as my cousin Orchard Blossom was a pretty crazy idea in the first place.

Macintosh: Ee-yup.

Bloom: And it’s not like you got me disqualified from the Social forever or anythin’. I can participate next time with Applejack. (turning to him) Everything’s fine.

Macintosh: Ee-yup. (Long pause.)

Bloom: I just don’t understand why you went so crazy there at the end of the race. I mean, I—I know you like to win and all, but…you want to tell me what’s goin’ on?

Macintosh: (turning away) Nn-nope.

Bloom: (standing) All right. Well…it’s getting late. You comin’?

Macintosh: Nope. (Long pause.)

Bloom: (sadly) Okay. (walking off) See you later, I…guess.

(The morose red stallion gives her a silent, sidelong look that seems to last a month before speaking up.)

Macintosh: Apple Bloom? (She stops…)

Bloom: Yeah? (…and walks slowly back to him.)

Macintosh: When you were little, you used to look up to me. Thought I was the best thing since Zap Apple jam. Things are different now. (Close-up of Bloom; he continues o.s.) Applejack’s the hero of the Apple family. (Back to him; he slowly gets more worked up.) Always rushin’ off to save Equestria, and I’m just here on the farm, doin’ chores, helpin’ out the way I can, nothin’ special, nobody’s hero. (To Bloom on these last two words, then cut to frame both.) I guess I just thought… (more calmly) …aw, never mind. Here I am, about to start blabberin’ on about my feelin’s. You don’t want to hear all this.

(One small yellow hoof gently touches one big red hind leg.)

Bloom: Yes, I do.

Macintosh: I guess I just thought if I could fill in for Applejack at the Social and get you a blue ribbon, well, I could be somepony you looked up to again. (smiling) Be your hero again, even if it was for just a day. (The smile vanishes.) It was foolish, and I’m ashamed. (turning away) Please. I just want to be alone right now.

(Bloom mulls over this relative torrent of words—possibly the most she has ever heard him say at one time—and the camera cuts to a close-up of the gloomy crimson face.)

Bloom: (from o.s.) Yeah, well… (cheerfully; sound of a grab) …too bad, you big goof!

(The green eyes widen; zoom out to show that she has stretched her forelegs to hug as much of him as she can.)

Bloom: ’Cause I’m not goin’ anywhere, and I know that you’re always gonna be here when I need you. Heck, you’ll do a whole obstacle course in high heels if you think it’ll help me get somethin’ I want. (Back to his face; she continues o.s.) Y-You’re my big brother. (He perks up; back to her, zooming in slowly.) You’ve always been a hero to me, Big Mac, and…you always will be. I’m real sorry I haven’t been lettin’ you know that’s how I feel. Guess both of us have been holdin’ back when it comes to expressin’ ourselves, huh?

Macintosh: Ee-yup.

(Now he returns the hug.)

Granny: (from o.s., distant) Big Mac! Apple Bloom!

(They glance toward the barn; cut to just behind them, giving a long shot of the building and Granny standing at the open kitchen door. Zoom in slowly.)

Granny: Your sister’s home! She says she’s got quite a story to tell about her trip to Manehattan!

(Brother and sister trade smiling looks from their spot under the apple tree.)

Bloom: Be there in a bit!

(Cut to just behind Granny, the hilltop and its denizens visible as silhouettes.)

Bloom: (echoing slightly) I’m spending some quality time with my big brother!

(The old mare turns to re-enter the kitchen. Cut to a closer shot of the pair and zoom out slowly.)

Bloom: Hey, Big Mac?

Macintosh: Ee-yup?

Bloom: How do you think Cousin Orchard Blossom would describe this sunset?