SCHOOL DAZE—PART ONE
Written by Michael Vogel, Nicole Dubuc
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to an overhead close-up of the magical map on the central table in the throne room of the Castle of Friendship. Zoom out to frame all of it as Twilight Sparkle and her friends gather around, accompanied by Starlight Glimmer and Spike; Rainbow Dash hovers above one edge. The piece of crystalline furniture has grown a size or two, and a few new geographical features have manifested themselves on the shimmery blue surface, the most noticeable of these being a sizable patch that has gone dull gray.)
Twilight: This happened while we were gone?
Applejack: Wow! Those are all the places we went when we left to save Equestria!
(Referring to the events of My Little Pony: The Movie. Close-up. Rarity aims a disgusted eye and hoof at the gray spot, which proves to be a representation of the ramshackle desert settlement of Klugetown.)
Rarity: Ugh! There’s that horrid town where we were almost sold! (Rainbow finds a tiny, hovering copy of Captain Celaeno’s airship.)
Rainbow: The pirates! They were pretty awesome—uh, once they decided not to throw us overboard. (Pinkie Pie spots Mount Aeris, the former home of the hippogriffs.)
Pinkie: (hip-checking Applejack aside) And Mount Aeris! Ooh, Starlight…
(She dives across the table to squish the unicorn’s cheeks.)
Pinkie: …did you know we made seashell necklaces for aaaaaaaaa— (Stop for breath.) —aaaaaaaaall the sea ponies?
Starlight: (bewildered) I…you…really? (Pinkie nods.) What about that unicorn—the one who attacked Canterlot?
Twilight: Tempest. I invited her to come to Ponyville, but she wanted to spread the word of the Storm King’s defeat—and share what she learned about friendship.
Applejack: (pacing past them to Fluttershy) Y’all think that’s why the map grew? Friendship quests beyond Equestria?
Fluttershy: I hope not. I’ve had quite enough life-threatening adventures, thank you very much.
(Cut to Twilight’s side of the table. The attention of all is drawn by the end of a tape measure as it extends into view from o.s. and makes contact with the edge. It is held by Pinkie, who whips into view wearing a full tool belt and a hard hat fitted with a flashing red light.)
Pinkie: How many friendship quests do you think we need to go on— (retracting tape) —before we have to expand the throne room?
Twilight: We can’t do it all alone.
Pinkie: Sure we can! We just need to knock this wall down, get some paint—
(She starts this line holding a clipboard, but trades it first for a jackhammer held against a wall and then for a can of paint and brush as she speaks.)
Twilight: No. I mean, the world is filled with so many different creatures who know nothing about friendship. (pacing around table; Pinkie sets paint/brush down) We need help if we’re gonna teach them all about friendship—lots of help.
Rarity: Perhaps. But where does one go to learn about friendship?
(Close-up; the resident Princess stops and points out Ponyville on the map.)
Twilight: Here. They can all go here, because we’re gonna open a school!
(Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, in Canterlot, during the day and zoom in slowly. The first few words of the following line are heard in voice over before the camera cuts to Twilight, Princess Celestia, and Spike walking a hall inside. Twilight carries a notepad and quill in her magic, Spike holds a stack of papers, and all three are passing a classroom full of young students. Daytime sky is visible through the windows.)
Celestia: I think a school of friendship is a wonderful idea, Twilight. (They stop at the doorway.) I’ll help in any way I can.
(Twilight jots a few lines on her pad with a glance at the colts and fillies, then hurries to catch up to Celestia, having traded her implements for Spike’s notes. The young dragon takes his time rejoining them.)
Twilight: I just have a few questions. (Separate pages; float them up.) What time should school start each day? (Cut to Celestia.)
Celestia: It really d—
Twilight: (from o.s., shifting pages) What’s the ideal length for class? Do you test regularly? (Back to her and Spike.)
Celestia: (from o.s.) Oh, well, that’s a—
Twilight: What about class projects? (To Celestia.)
Celestia: That’s a very—
Twilight: (from o.s.) Assigned seating? (Her again.) Open seating? Or is that too unstructured? (Cut to all three on the end of this.)
Celestia: (chuckling, taking/stacking pages in her field) Oh, Twilight, you were my star pupil. If anyone knows how to run a school, it’s you.
(She floats them down so Spike can take them back.)
Twilight: There’s a big difference between attending a school and running one. It’s not like there’s a rulebook to follow.
Celestia: Actually, there is. The EEA guidebook is very specific about how to run a school.
Twilight: The EEA? I’ve never heard of that. (Spike shrugs his puzzlement.) Should I have heard of that?
Celestia: Of course not. You’ve never run a school before. (Spike takes notes.) The Equestria Education Association is a board of learnéd ponies that oversee every school in Equestria.
Spike: Even your school? But you’re…you!
Celestia: Not even a princess can do whatever she likes when it comes to shaping young pony minds.
(She conjures up the following image as she continues. A seal of two concentric circles, with sprigs of laurel leaves in the space between and curving around the inner one, which houses a horseshoe with points up. Three silhouettes, one by one—a unicorn and a floating leaf, a pegasus with a raining cloud, an earth pony and flower—which swirl away after a moment. The seal vanishes with her final words.)
Celestia: The EEA ensures that whether it’s unicorns studying magic, pegasi learning weather, or earth ponies researching agriculture, all schools are held to the same high standards. They’ll need to approve your plan before you can move forward.
Twilight: (as Spike writes) Okay, Spike. Looks like we have a presentation to make.
Spike: (scoffing) After everything we’ve been through, how hard can that be?
(Both smile confidently. Snap to black, against which a spotlight beam flares from above to pick them out, standing on a stone floor with a stack of ten very, very thick file folders that reaches to nearly double Spike’s height. The light comes up around them to illuminate a meeting hall in which ten ponies stare humorlessly down at them from elevated desks similar to a judge’s bench. Three sit along each wall directly in front of her and to either side, and the tenth has taken a still higher seat at the front. Each has a small desk lamp at his/her position, and all are wearing dark red cloaks with gold braid along the turned-up collars. Cut to Twilight and Spike.)
Spike: (fearfully, to Twilight) I’m gonna go with “really hard.”
Twilight: (to the gathering) Uh, hello. My name is—
Stallion voice: Princess Twilight Sparkle.
(The voice’s severe tone instantly dispirits her and sets her ears to wilting. Cut to the front wall, the speaker being the one in the highest seat—Chancellor Neighsay. Pale gray unicorn; dark gray, slicked-back mane and goatee, blue-green eyes, thick book resting on his desk.)
Neighsay: I am Chancellor Neighsay. Equestria owes you a great debt. But princess or no, we expect you to do things by the book.
(His aura sends the very heavy reading down to the floor, where it lands with a thud and barely misses Twilight’s hooves. On its cover is the seal Celestia displayed for her, marking this group as the Equestria Education Association. She brings it up for a quick flip through the pages, then raises her eyes confidently.)
Twilight: (floating it to Spike and her files up to the group) I think you’ll find my curriculum meets all your requirements, Chancellor.
(The number-one assistant flips her a thumbs-up as her submissions settle onto the desks, the last one taking a bit longer to reach Neighsay. He leafs through it with his magic, this camera angle pointing up a red sash decorated with a gold medallion that bears the EEA seal. He waits to speak until he has reached the very end.)
Neighsay: And can we trust you to follow through with this plan? (Back to front; close the folder.) Or will you leave the school unattended to gallop off on your… (contemptuously) …adventures?
Twilight: My journey beyond Equestria showed me first-hoof that the threats out there are greater than we imagined.
(A round of concerned murmurs ripples through the other nine attendees.)
Twilight: If we want to keep our land safe and create a friendlier tomorrow, we need to teach the magic of friendship far and wide.
Neighsay: A school for ponies to learn how to protect themselves.
Twilight: Uh, more like respecting difference and communicating.
(Neighsay glances from one side to the other, receiving stern nods from the membership.)
Neighsay: The EEA concurs. Everypony should be prepared to defend our way of life. So if your work is in order, provisional EEA approval is granted.
(He taps a front hoof against the file for emphasis as he finishes, showing a short sleeve attached to his cloak. Cut to Twilight and Spike, a relieved grin passing from one face to the other.)
Neighsay: (from o.s.) We will need to observe your school up and running before it can be fully accredited.
(On the end of this, cut to frame both him and her.)
Twilight: Then, please. Join us for Friends and Family Day. It’ll be the perfect time to see our progress.
(A flick of Neighsay’s power brings up a rubber stamp and applies it to the front cover of his folder, imprinting it with the EEA seal in red ink. From here, dissolve to an extreme close-up of a stretch of blue-shingled roof and tilt up to a projecting, lighter-hued brick tower set with a window that bears the six-pointed pink star from Twilight’s cutie mark. The camera shifts to point directly at the end of a rooftop over a white structure trimmed in purple, showing a white copy of the star superimposed over a pink compass rose and a starred purple banner waving in the breeze. Tilt up to frame the upper reaches of an even taller edifice behind it, its uppermost peak topped by a pink banner on a pole whose ornament is a winged copy of the star. The walls are decorated in pastel shades of pink and blue, with hearts worked into the trim. Next, the camera roves along a stone walkway that projects into a small body of water; it ends abruptly, but stepping stones rise to the surface to continue the path—first a heart, then four round ones to stop at the base of a foaming waterfall. The torrent parts slowly to expose a set of double doors immediately in front of the last stone, surmounted by a round window that depicts a rearing Twilight with wings spread. Zoom out slowly to frame the building in its entirety: a sprawling, multi-level complex of towers, courtyards, and bridges, with several waterfalls pouring into a lake that encircles all. Stepping-stone paths lead off to either side from the walkway, while a lamppost stands to each side of the heart. This is the campus of the School of Friendship, whose crest is mounted on a higher level above the doors: a purple shield edged in pink and bearing a six-pointed pink star with gems resting between the arms.)
Rainbow: (voice over) It’s too much. Too much!
Rarity: (voice over, sighing) You think so?
(Cut to her inside; she has donned a light blue blouse with gold-buttoned white sleeve cuffs, a yellow belt, and a full-length purple skirt that matches the frames of the eyeglasses she also wears. Most of her mane is tied back in a bun, and around her neck is a ribbon tie in a darker shade that her blouse. The overall impression is that of a schoolteacher from bygone times. A stack of folders is visible on one end of a table behind her, and Fluttershy’s rabbit Angel and a bird sit on a nearby ledge.)
Rarity: I had hoped dressing the part would help me feel the part. (Rainbow flies into her face.)
Rainbow: Not your dress…
(Up she goes; long shot of the area, in which Applejack, Fluttershy, and Starlight have also come together. It is an entrance hall with a cloud/sky motif and crystal trim worked into the walls and ceiling, plenty of heart-decorated pillars, and busts of Starswirl the Bearded and Mistmane stand across from each other on pedestals in the foreground. The table has two stacks of folders and a container of quills on it, and a purple banner is being hoisted into position, showing a gold copy of the School’s crest.)
Rainbow: …this! Us! (swooping back down to her) Teaching? They’re gonna think I’m an egghead!
(Her intended exit comes to a most abrupt halt when the barrel of Pinkie’s party cannon trundles into view, followed in short order by its user putting head and forelegs out from the muzzle. Busts of Flash Magnus and Mage Meadowbrook can be seen behind her, on the same side as Mistmane’s; she has ditched her hard hat and tools from the prologue.)
Pinkie: Well, the students are gonna love my confetti cannon class. (donning crash helmet/goggles; the cannon swells ridiculously) It’s gonna be… (Launch; sending her o.s. and throwing confetti everywhere.) …a blast!
(The bits of bright paper rain down past the camera, the view wiping behind them to Fluttershy at the animals’ ledge, now a bit more populated.)
Fluttershy: (to them) Um, hello there. I’m your teacher. I hope you enjoy class, but if you don’t enjoy it, that’s okay too.
(As she speaks, all the critters except Angel clear out and he claps a paw to his face in disgust, touching off a dismayed cringe from her. Cut to the table, Applejack and Starlight now behind it.)
Applejack: I don’t know about all this.
(Zoom out. Twilight has made the scene and is pacing with her copy of the EEA guidebook in her magical grip.)
Twilight: It’s going to be fine. (Pinkie returns without her helmet/goggles.) Everything about this school just feels right. (Close the book.)
Starlight: (floating up a stack of folders) See? If Twilight isn’t stressed, you’ve got nothing to worry about. (She walks off with them; cut to all others but Twilight.)
Applejack: (to Twilight) And you’re sure you want us to be teachers? In…classrooms? (Twilight’s book floats to them, now open.)
Twilight: (from o.s., pointing out a passage) The EEA is very clear on how schools should be run.
(Cut to her. Now a bust of Somnambula can be seen at a far wall on the same side as Starswirl’s, along with a crescent-moon banner.)
Twilight: We have a huge responsibility— (retrieving/closing book) —and I need you all to do this by the book. That means no cannons in class, Pinkie.
Pinkie: (holding up a miniature one on a front hoof) Aww, not even a teeny cannon?
(It is barely one-quarter as long as her foreleg is thick, and it lets off what must surely be Equestria’s smallest confetti blast as she offers a hopeful grin and two big shiny blue eyes. Twilight sets her book down.)
Twilight: I know it’s not some big adventure against the forces of evil, but this could be the most important thing we’ve ever done. I can’t run a School of Friendship without my best friends. Can I count on you?
Rarity: Of course you can, darling.
Rainbow: (resignedly, but smiling) Call me Professor Egghead.
(Extreme close-up of a point between the six mares as they pile up one hoof each.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) I’m in.
(The six appendages are lifted toward the camera; cut to the mares. The shrill ringing of a school bell is met by a giddy yell from Pinkie.)
Pinkie: First day of school! So many new ponies!
Twilight: About that. One thing I forgot to mention.
(Cut to a long shot of the closed front doors and zoom in to a close-up as they swing open to admit a sizable crowd of ponies—as well as a dragon, griffon, changeling, hippogriff, and yak.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) It’s not just ponies.
(The yak pivots past the camera, the view wiping behind the shaggy brown bulk to a close-up of four thoroughly flummoxed new teachers. Pinkie, the missing fifth, pops up next to them.)
Pinkie: That was unexpected.
(Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to the now-full entrance hall and zoom in through the knots of new arrivals to stop on Twilight, Rainbow, and Rarity at the table. The Princess has her guidebook open and levitating so she can run an eye over the pages.)
Rarity: (magically passing a folder to a mare) Oh! Students certainly traveled from far and wide to attend our school.
Twilight: Princess Celestia helped me reach out to all the kingdoms. (Rainbow gets another for a unicorn stallion to take in his field.) After all, friendship is something that needs to be shared with every…
(Words fail her briefly upon noticing the changeling pace glumly across the hall. Pale blue hide; deep pink carapace with lighter spots covering the back; blue-green eyes; glittering, translucent pink wings. This is Ocellus, a female, who stands out from all other transformed changelings seen to this point in one respect: a mane-like fin running down the back of her head and neck that matches her wings.)
Twilight: …creature.
(Poofing the book away, she moves to address the excited newcomers, who fall quiet as she begins to speak.)
Twilight: Welcome to the School of Friendship. I’m your headmare, Twilight Sparkle. Please follow Guidance Counselor Starlight to sign in and get your class assignments.
(On the end of this, cut to Starlight and Spike, the former waving to the group and the latter with quill and scroll in hand. The camera then returns to Twilight.)
Twilight: Then we can show you your living quarters.
(A light green earth pony colt, Sandbar, ambles away from the back of the crowd. Short, untidy, two-tone green mane/tail; medium green eyes; cutie mark of three sea turtles. His attention momentarily distracted, he runs into the rump of Gallus, a male griffon. Medium blue fur/feathers covering most of the body, with wings and tail tuft in a darker shade; tan coloration from chin down to chest and underbelly, with matching spots above annoyed, deep blue eyes; head plumage shading to golden brown at the tips. Sandbar’s voice carries an easygoing “surfer dude” inflection.)
Sandbar: Whoa, sorry. (Gallus wheels to face him.) I’m Sandbar. Are you a student here too?
Gallus: (sarcastically, rolling eyes) No, I just figured I’d randomly stand here and see how many ponies would walk into me.
(He blows his plumes away from his eyes just before a crotchety old male voice with traces of an Irish brogue cuts in.)
Old voice: Gallus!
(The scornful eyes pop wide open in shock, and he drops his head and plods across the hall. A cut to the speaker nails him down as Gruff, the elderly griffon who told the story of the Idol of Boreas in “The Lost Treasure of Griffonstone.” He is in no better shape now than he was then, and his hacking coughs clear away the nearest bystanders with remarkable speed as Rainbow flies over to him.)
Rainbow: Grandpa Gruff? What are you doing here?
Gruff: Flew all the way from Griffonstone to introduce Gallus.
(Who finishes slinking over, only to get another surprise when he notices the resident Wonderbolt. He rises to hover at her eye level.)
Gallus: Rainbow Dash, right? Gilda told me about you. You’re a teacher? (She nods.) Ah. Thought you’d be… (taunting tone) …cooler.
(That jibe throws her for a loop. So does the sound of the front doors crashing open again, accompanied by another familiar voice—this one gruff and booming.)
Prince Rutherford: (from o.s.) Ponies! (He stands at the threshold; Pinkie pops up from the crowd.)
Pinkie: Prince Rutherford!
(She bounds to a bit of clear space where a young female yak, Yona, is standing. Dark brown mane bound into two thick braids; green eyes; horns striped in two shades of dark gray; light green blanket on the humped back.)
Rutherford: (crossing to them) This Yona yak. She come to pony school. (Chuckle.) Make it better! (Pinkie salutes.)
Yona: Yak can’t wait to meet ponies— (charging about; a few flee screaming) —and tell all about Yakyakistan!
(The end of one braid gets caught under a hoof, sending her sprawling and yelling in nearly every direction at once. She dislodges a small planter in a collision against one wall, then knocks the bust of Magnus, and ends by pulling a banner down before collapsing in a heap. All three items are saved only thanks to a last-second rush by Pinkie as Yona shakes her head clear.)
Applejack: Why don’t I show you around before you destroy the place?
(Now a rather put-out Dragon Lord Ember trudges into view, pulling a surly young female dragon by the wrist. This one, Smolder, has a deep orange hide and wings, a lighter underbelly that matches the curved horns rising from the sides of her head, blue-green eyes, a ridge of unruly spines in deep magenta running down the back of her head, and a matching spade-shaped projection on the end of her tail. She is perhaps a head shorter than Ember.)
Smolder: But dragons are better than this!
(She pulls free of Ember’s grip and turns huffily away in close-up, crossing her arms.)
Smolder: Why am I here? (Zoom out to frame Ember on the start of the next line.)
Ember: Because as Dragon Lord, I’m ordering you to be here!
(A sudden thought knocks her off the intimidating track; she turns and addresses herself o.s. with a smile.)
Ember: Hey, Spike! (He is up at the front, taking notes.) Come meet Smolder.
(He is only too eager to ditch the paperwork and hurry over.)
Spike: Great to see you, Ember! (He hugs her; she recoils only slightly.) Uh…which one is Smolder?
(Both pairs of reptilian eyes aim themselves confusedly across the space; cut to Smolder lounging against a pillar. Her eyes pop in surprise before the camera zooms out to frame a second dragon, this one taller and in varying shades of tan and brown. This newcomer quails in the face of her searching, skeptical gaze for an uncomfortable moment.)
Thorax: (from o.s.) Ocellus! (Zoom out slightly; he steps up.) What did we talk about?
(A lick of power washes over Tan and subsides to leave the uneasy little changeling standing in the spot as Smolder backs away.)
Thorax: I told you, stay in your own form. It’s the polite thing to do. (addressing himself o.s.) Uh, sorry. Uh, she’s shy.
(Spike and Ember regard the pair with smiles, but Smolder is still a bit unsettled by the shape-change. Behind them, a pale pink female hippogriff thrusts her head up from the crowd for a better look. This is Silverstream, whose beak and talons sport a darker hue; her mane displays two shades of light blue, with the forelock styled as a Mohawk, and her eyes are deep blue-violet. She wears a crystal pendant on a cord strung with three smaller pieces.)
Silverstream: (excitedly, pointing over them) What is that?
(She rockets up from the masses; Ocellus reacts by transforming into a bucktoothed yellow earth pony filly and hustling away. Silverstream’s tail matches her mane for color when she swoops by in pursuit. Ocellus takes shelter beneath the long fall of Fluttershy’s mane, and the mare and filly who had been talking with Fluttershy take their leave just in time for Silverstream to swoop down into a hover.)
Silverstream: No way! I didn’t know ponies could turn into…um…what are you? (Thorax joins them.)
Thorax: A changeling.
Silverstream: Ponies can turn into changelings?!
Fluttershy: (stroking Ocellus’s mane) No, but changelings can turn into ponies. (Ocellus smiles tentatively.)
Silverstream: Huh. (scratching head) That’s confusing.
(A second hippogriff, this one a full-grown male, comes in for a landing and she touches down as well. Now good and scared, Ocellus drops her disguise and huddles down between Thorax’s forelegs in close-up. Cut back to the newcomer, General Seaspray, on the start of the next line. Blue-violet coat with darker beak/talons/hooves and lighter edging down the forelegs; two-tone pale green mane/tail, the former swept back from his face; stern blue-green eyes; same necklace as Silverstream. He speaks with a stuffy British accent.)
Seaspray: I am General Seaspray of Her Majesty Queen Novo’s navy. I would like to introduce the Queen’s niece, Silverstream. (Who pops up into a hover again.)
Silverstream: This place is amazing! (rapid fire) I’ve spent most of my life in a coral reef underwater. I was a sea pony, but now I’m a hippogriff. Long story. Anyway— (perching on Fluttershy’s head, looking across hall) —wow! Is that a yak?
(She rockets away, blowing Fluttershy’s mane over her eyes so that she has to part the pink strands in order to get a clear look at new developments. As Silverstream and Yona hustle cheerfully across the hall, Twilight steps up to address the gathering.)
Twilight: Thank you so much for supporting the grand opening of our school. (Cut here and there among the audience; she continues o.s.) I hope you’ll all join us for Friends and Family Day to see the amazing progress your students are making.
(They respond with a round of wild cheering; she brings out her EEA guidebook.)
Twilight: Looks like school’s in session.
Bright orchestral melody, fast 4 (A major)
(Dissolve to the packed hall and tilt up slowly.)
Students: The School of Friendship, first day of class
(Spike gives a folder of documents to one.)
Will we fail or will we pass?
(Sandbar trots forward and the other out-of-towners scatter near a staircase; Yona trips over her braid and tumbles o.s.)
Students come from far and wide
(Silverstream flies past; behind her, wipe to Starlight and Spike beckoning for all to follow them farther in.)
Brand-new friends here by our side
C major
(They open a set of double doors to allow the student body through, Twilight hovering above; Ocellus assumes her yellow-pony guise and Yona stumbles again.)
Twilight: Take a breath, look around, it’s amazing
(She follows them around a well-appointed bend.)
I can’t believe that it’s real
Students galore, new ideas to explore
Can’t contain the excitement I feel
(She addresses Starlight and Spike as the baby dragon jots on a parchment.)
Can’t mess up, can’t afford a mistake now
(Dropping to the floor, she floats her guidebook into view and leads them both away.)
Think success, keep it firmly in sight
(Open it for all her friends to read.)
Make sure to do things by the book
Make sure to do it all right
(Dissolve to Rainbow behind the front desk of a full classroom, gesturing uncertainly at a blackboard filled with diagrams as she delivers a lecture. Cut in turn to Pinkie, Fluttershy, Rarity, and Applejack in a similar situation, none looking entirely comfortable with their new role as instructors. Ocellus appears in her natural form during this sequence, but a dissolve to a courtyard shows her as a pony again among the students dispersing in all three dimensions. The camera pans slowly across the grassy area and its fountain as the sky fades from day to night and back to morning, the students vanishing and reappearing to point up the time lapse.)
(Dissolve to Rainbow and the six core students gathered in her classroom. Yona is balancing precariously on one rear hoof atop a pyramid of desks as the other five cheer her on; Ocellus is back in her natural form now. Pinkie shows off the workings of her party cannon, laughing it up as confetti rains down over the group and Silverstream/Smolder cover their ears. Fluttershy has cleared out all the desks and brought in several animal friends for her class session, including Angel and Harry the bear, while Rarity has put the desks in a circle so the students can watch her levitate a hat onto a pony-shaped mannequin that stands on her desk in the center. Finally, Applejack bucks an apple off the top of a pile of desks, the others shifted out of the way. All five are much more at ease now.)
(Cut to the open door of one classroom, seem from the hall, and zoom in slowly as these six hurry eagerly toward it.)
Students: The School of Friendship, must get to class
(Inside; it proves to be Fluttershy’s.)
Will we fail or will we pass?
(Close-up; they open their textbooks and get a faceful of confetti—Pinkie’s session.)
Students learning from the best
(The pink goofball pops up among them. The tip of Gallus’s quill snaps off as he takes notes, but Sandbar is quick to offer a spare; now they are in Rarity’s class.)
Taking notes to pass the test
Stoptime with flute/strings only (E flat major)
(In Rainbow’s class, Twilight catches the falling Yona in her field and returns her to the ground, instantly reducing the general enjoyment level.)
Twilight: Wait, hold on, not like that, just a second
I’m not sure if that method’s approved
(She brings out her guidebook and checks a page.)
Let me take a look— (spoken in rhythm) —yep, right here in the book
Full instrumentation in, heavy on brass (D major)
Rainbow: Come on! We just got in the groove
(She is very surprised to find a mortarboard hat being settled onto her head. The thick volume slides past, spine to the camera; behind it, wipe to an extreme close-up of the party cannon’s burning fuse. A longer shot frames Pinkie sitting atop the breech and a helmeted Gallus ready to be launched toward a mattress-covered wall as the others watch, all but Yona covering their ears. Twilight winks into view above them and instantly restores the normal classroom furniture before flying off, not noticing the gloomy/sour looks coming her way.)
A major, modulating to C major
Twilight: Can’t mess up, can’t afford a mistake now
(She vanishes a spider from Fluttershy’s upraised hoof and puts this room back in order just as quickly.)
We are shaping young minds to ignite
(Applejack’s classroom gets the same treatment, then Rarity’s.)
Do it like it says in the book, now
Make sure you’re doing it right
(The view slides away and is replaced by Pinkie frantically sketching on her blackboard, the chalk held in her mane.)
Pinkie: There’s not an equation on how to have fun
(Slide to the students exhibiting varied degrees of disinterest, frustration, and boredom.)
Fluttershy: The students look bored now, oh, what have I done?
(Slide to Applejack at her board, which shows a pony’s face with ridiculously elongated nose and covered by a red circle/slash.)
Applejack: Can’t teach bein’ honest, not sure what to do
(Slide to Rarity skimming the contents of a long scroll at ludicrous speed.)
Rarity: I’m quite certain I’m lost
(Smaller panels showing Twilight’s other four friends slide in from top/bottom to tile the screen on either side of her.)
All five: None of us has a clue
(The screen briefly tiles itself with images of the six students, followed by a fullscreen view of them zigzagging their way down a long hall whose walls are lined with doors. Their freight of textbooks increases on every pass.)
Students: The School of Friendship, another class
Wish it were more of a blast
Thought this school would be more fun
Can’t wait for our classes to be done
(The cover of the EEA guidebook slides down to fill the screen, its seal turning 180 degrees to show a closely inked page beyond and Twilight on the flip side.)
Background lyrics are in square brackets and sung under the previous line (C minor)
Twilight: Can’t mess up, can’t afford a mistake now
Students: [School of Friendship]
(Cut to Pinkie at the head of her class, popping a balloon with a pin, then to a weary Fluttershy and a roomful of snoozing pupils.)
Pinkie: No way to have fun
Fluttershy: Oh, what have I done?
(They wake up; Twilight’s translucent image superimposing itself on the view as the camera cuts quickly from class to class.)
Twilight: Think success, keep it firmly in sight
Students: [Bored with this class]
Students: Wish that we could leave our desks
Rainbow, Rarity: [We don’t have a clue]
E flat minor
Students: Listen to this one request
(Starlight and Spike watch them plod/flap by with their piles of required reading.)
Make things fun, we’re really stressed
(Close-up: Twilight flies up, book in tow. Zoom out slowly to frame the throng of exhausted, disgruntled attendees in the entrance hall.)
C major
Twilight: Make sure to do things by the book now
Hold the last note for several beats, then modulate to E flat minor when music resumes
(Cut from one scene of academic misfortune to another in quick succession, ending with a long shot of the entire campus.)
All others: Can we tell her this thing is a mess?
Song ends
(The cover of the EEA guidebook closes itself over the view. From here, dissolve to the six students trudging through the halls and voicing a chorus of groans and yawns.)
Silverstream: Is this what boring is? Am I bored? (Cut to Gallus/Sandbar/Smolder, walking slightly ahead.)
Smolder: Ugh, please. These ponies are the heroes of Equestria?
Sandbar: Listen. These ponies saved all of us from the Storm King.
Gallus: How? By boring him into surrender? (Pan back to Ocellus/Silverstream/Yona on the next line.)
Silverstream: Our teachers are…a little different than I expected.
Yona: Ugh! Pony school waste of time! Yak school teach how to braid yak hair! Braiding yak hair is best! (She trips on a braid and stumbles ahead…) Whooaa!
(…and collides with Smolder, propelling her ahead as if she had just been hit with a wrecking ball. The hirsute youngster ends up crashed out on her back as Smolder gets upright.)
Smolder: (crossing to her) Is there anything in Yakyakistan that isn’t the best? (Yona stands up.)
Yona: Yes! Wait…No! Yaks best.
Smolder: No claws, no wings, no fire. (She pulls Yona’s mouth open to point up this last.) What is it exactly you’re proud of?
Sandbar: (chuckling) Whoa, cool it! No need to harsh Yona’s love for her heritage, okay?
Gallus: (snarky, sidling up to him) Aww, are we not being sweet and friendly enough for you, pony?
Silverstream: That was sarcasm, right? Because you weren’t being sweet or nice?
Smolder: Maybe dragons and griffons are just too tough for friendship. (She bumps fists with Gallus; cut to Yona.)
Yona: Yaks tough, just not nasty. (Gallus leans into her face.)
Gallus: Who you calling nasty, klutz?
(The two butt heads and strain back and forth for some seconds, each trying to shove the other off balance.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Okay, break it up! (dropping into view behind them) Break it up!
(She has shed the mortarboard Twilight bestowed on her during the song, and she pushes each a step back from the other as the camera zooms out. Applejack and Starlight have arrived, the former lassoing Gallus to keep him back and the latter pulling Yona back with her field.)
Starlight: What is going on here?
Gallus: Just a friendly discussion about the magic of friendship amongst friends. (Applejack pulls her rope away.)
Applejack: Everypony—I mean, everyone, go to your next class!
(Starlight has released Yona as well by now. The six pupils grudgingly vacate the scene as the three mares gather for a talk of their own.)
Applejack: I just can’t believe it. Fights breakin’ out when they’re supposed to be learnin’ friendship?
Starlight: Things definitely aren’t going as by-the-book as Twilight planned.
Rainbow: That’s because we’re terrible teachers! Face it—this school isn’t gonna work.
(Fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a large round office that Twilight has claimed as her own. Display cases and tall bookshelves line the walls, the latter equipped with ladders to reach the top levels, and a number of stools are set out in front of the Princess’s desk. She sits behind it with Spike off to one side, facing the rest of the gang as they voice a scramble of complaints and the camera zooms in slowly. Rarity has shed her schoolteacher outfit and undone the bun in her mane, and Rainbow drives her point home by showing a crude sketch of herself wearing her mortarboard and holding a book, the top of her cranium cracked open to play up the “egghead” angle. The others go quiet as she speaks.)
Rainbow: I don’t look like that, do I?
(Not her own doing, then. Pinkie goes into the windup for a big snore, having somehow managed to put herself to sleep, but bites it off once Twilight begins to speak. Across the office from the desk is a pair of tall, closed double doors.)
Twilight: I get it. (Pinkie shakes her head clear; zoom in.) Things are getting off to a rougher start than expected. (Spike climbs up onto the desk…) But that’s okay. (…and turns her head to face him straight on.)
Spike: Who are you and what have you done with Twilight Sparkle?
(She floats him off the desk, bringing up the EEA guidebook instead.)
Twilight: Every school in Equestria follows these rules. As long as we do too, we’ll be fine.
Starlight: Maybe we should…try something new?
Twilight: The EEA will be here this afternoon for Friends and Family Day. They need to see a school that follows their guidelines.
Fluttershy: Even if those guidelines aren’t working?
Twilight: (needled, leaning out over desk) Well, then, we have to try harder and make sure they do. (She brightens at the ringing of the school bell.) Another morning, another chance to inspire our students.
(The other six mares, far from convinced, file out of the office as she nods confidently; Rainbow opens the doors for them. Wipe to a hallway junction, at which Gallus and Smolder turn to go in the opposite direction from Sandbar.)
Sandbar: Hey! (pointing) Professor Dash’s class is this way. (The two encounter Ocellus/Silverstream/Yona.)
Ocellus: Where are you going? You’re not… (Gasp.) …skipping, are you?
Smolder: (fist-bumping Gallus) That’s exactly what we’re doing.
Silverstream: (panicked) But Friends and Family Day—
Gallus: —is after class. Relax! This is just a quick… (A moment’s thought.) …mental health break.
(The other three huddle in for a quick, whispered discussion, which breaks once Silverstream speaks up.)
Silverstream: Oh! That sounds legit. We’re in!
Sandbar: (reluctantly, joining them) I guess I’ll tag along too—make sure you don’t get into…trouble.
(The party of six starts off down the hall, Sandbar bringing up the rear as the only one of the six not giggling over their plan to go AWOL. However, the sound of Fluttershy’s and the sight of her advancing shadow from a side passage bring them up short.)
Fluttershy: (from around corner) This way, Angel.
Silverstream: (to others) Professor Fluttershy! We’re busted!
(Gathering her courage, Ocellus steps forward and assumes Rarity’s appearance an instant before the yellow pegasus and her bunny buddy advance into view.)
Fluttershy: Oh, my! What are you all doing? (pointing past the group) Aren’t classes that way?
Ocellus: (as Rarity) Uh… (Clear throat; adopt an exaggerated version of her speech pattern.) …a generosity field trip, darling. (Giggle.) I’m taking the students to the lake— (fiddling with mane) —to look at our divine reflections.
(A bat of the vivid blue eyes is met by gobsmacked stares from the other five aspiring truants. Fluttershy buys it hook, line and sinker, completely missing the filthy look Angel is sending her way.)
Fluttershy: Oh! That sounds nice. Have fun!
(As she goes on her way, the white fuzzball narrows his beady black eyes at the six and voices a snarl that manages to be intimidating despite his small size. Once he has hopped after her, Ocellus drops the act and all six race off laughing.)
Smolder: (to Ocellus) I take back everything I said about you. That was cool!
Ocellus: Thanks! (puzzled) Wait. What did you say about me?
(Wipe to the courtyard, where Twilight and Starlight have gone for a walk.)
Starlight: You’re sure sticking to the book is gonna work?
Twilight: My friends can handle anything. They’ll have these problems turned around before we know it.
(On this second sentence, a portal opens in midair behind her and Neighsay steps through, a clipboard and quill held in his field. Away from his desk in the EEA meeting hall, he proves to be quite tall and long-legged, with a tail styled similarly to his mane.)
Neighsay: Problems? (Both mares stop with a gasp and turn to him, Twilight forcing a smile.)
Twilight: Chancellor Neighsay! (The portal closes.) You’re here! (Starlight gives her a funny look.)
Neighsay: Yes. And you seem unprepared. (taking notes) If there are problems… (Now Starlight smiles as well.)
Twilight: Problems? Ha! Of course not! We can’t wait to show you around.
(He says nothing, but keeps his quill moving as she voices a shaky giggle through locked teeth. Dissolve to the six hooky-players cooling it at the shore of a lake and pan slowly across the scene.)
Gallus: (dramatically) And that’s why griffons breathe fire when we get mad. (Close-up.)
Silverstream: They do not! (Pause.) Wait. Do they? No! Really?
Yona: (laughing) Griffons just full of hot air! (All join in the mirth; close-up of Smolder and Yona.)
Smolder: And yaks are actually good at jokes. How about that? (Zoom out to frame Ocellus and Sandbar on the next line.)
Ocellus: What are dragons good at? (Smolder zips into the air.)
Smolder: Competition. Who’s up for a race?
(In just a bit more than no time flat, the other five are up on their hooves/talons/paws and all attention. Wipe to Twilight and Starlight leading Neighsay down a hall, he still jotting away at his clipboard; they stop short when Rainbow zooms in from a side corridor and screeches to a midair halt.)
Twilight: Rainbow Dash, why aren’t you in class teaching?
Rainbow: Because my students are gone!
(Cut to the other three. Twilight and Starlight get a real scare thrown into them by the news, the former drawing a hoof across her throat in a “cut it out” gesture.)
Rainbow: (from o.s., thinking fast) Uh…g-gone… (Back to her.) …somewhere else! (Grin.) Doing a loyalty lesson. And—And I was just going to grab a…
(After a quick, jittery glance around herself, she peels out. Cut to the three horned ponies as she holds a pencil into view.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) …this pencil! Because they need it— (Back to her.) —uh, wherever they are, which I know, ’cause…I’m the teacher! (Cut to Twilight and Starlight, the latter clapping a hoof to her forehead.)
Twilight: (forcing a smile/chuckle.) I see. Well, Chancellor, we have other classes. We can just go— (Zoom out to frame Neighsay on the next line.)
Neighsay: Let’s follow the professor. I’m quite curious about this lesson in loyalty.
(Realizing that she is well and truly foxed, Rainbow slumps in midair and flaps listlessly away. Wipe to a long shot of the prodigal youths at the lake and zoom in as they race laughing around its shore; those with wings are airborne. As before, Yona steps on the end of one braid and topples forward with a yell; this time, though, Sandbar darts in to support her chin with his back so she can right herself.)
Twilight: (voice over) Of course, we want to instill a sense of loyalty towards others.
(The flying four hold a quick, whispered discussion and zip down.)
Twilight: (voice over) We encourage acts of generosity and kindness.
(Gallus hoists Sandbar clear of the turf, while Silverstream and Smolder tackle the job of lifting Yona. Mixed shouts of fear and delight as Ocellus brings up the rear.)
Gallus: Figured we shouldn’t be the only ones enjoying the view.
Yona: (yelling in terror) Yaks not best at flying! (But she starts to get into the spirit, laughter drifting around her.)
Twilight: (voice over) An appreciation for the value of laughter…
Yona: Flying is best!
Silverstream: Congratulations, Yona! (eyes spinning in sockets) You are officially the weirdest thing I’ve seen so far!
Smolder: What do you say, Ocellus? Can you be weirder than a flying yak?
(The shape-shifter throws them a resolute nod and lets her magic engulf her, the view instantly shifting to the other five and zooming out as the shadow of something very, very large extends over them. Whatever Ocellus has become, it puts them all to shame for sheer size and earns her a round of awed murmurs.)
(Dissolve to Rainbow unwillingly leading Twilight, Starlight, and Neighsay along a corridor.)
Twilight: …and to always be honest in any situation.
Neighsay: (impatiently) Honesty is imperative. (Stop.) Princess, are we going in circles?
Twilight: (levitating an open pocket watch) Uh, look at the time. (tucking it away) We’d better head to the lake for Friends and Family Day. (walking ahead) I’m sure all the students and faculty will be there.
(The other two mares do not share even a scrap of her faint hope. Dissolve to a long shot of a meadow off to one side of the School grounds, zooming in slowly as ponies congregate here and there, and cut to Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rarity near a refreshment table. Pinkie points out the approaching delegation of Ember, Gruff, Rutherford, Seaspray, and Thorax, led by Spike. All are soon enjoying themselves in conversation and drinks, but the merriment comes to a grinding halt as Ember picks up on the sound of a rapidly approaching, insect-like buzz.)
Ember: (pointing into sky) What is that?
(“That” proves to the missing students, and the sound is courtesy of Ocellus. Her enormous new form is something of a dragonfly/bumblebee cross, with the elongated proboscis of a mosquito and four jointed legs that end in long, curved claws. Their landing approach tips the gathering into full-scale pandemonium that clears the grounds in record time, leaving seven very confused mares and one Chancellor whose disapproval yields to a cry of terror as he hunkers down behind Twilight.)
Neighsay: The School is under attack!
(Sandbar slips out of Gallus’s grip and bounces heavily across the grass, knocking Gruff/Rutherford/Seaspray/Thorax silly as he barrels through them like a wrecking ball. Yona’s weight finally proves too much for Silverstream and Smolder to support, and all three drop screaming into the nearest snack table, launching a cake directly into Gruff’s face. Last is Ocellus, who pulls up just in time to avoid a spectacular crash landing; however, her redirected momentum carries her into one of the School’s peripheral towers and smashes it. Chunks of masonry rain down, barely missing the freaked-out crowds, as she reverts to her normal form and goes down with them. The crash of a particularly large stone mass throws up enough dust to fill the screen.)
(To a symphony of coughs and moans, the view clears to frame the four elders who took the brunt of this colossal screw-up. Gruff wipes a glob of icing from his face and tastes it, while Twilight gets an eyeful of the six across the meadow.)
Silverstream: Uh, maybe skipping class wasn’t the best idea?
Neighsay: (to them) How dare you! This act of aggression against ponies—
Twilight: I’m so sorry, Chancellor. We clearly had some students get a little carried away.
Neighsay: Those are students?! (pacing) But—you said you were opening this school to protect Equestria! To defend ponies from— (eyeing the four elders, all upright/clean and now joined by Ember) —dangerous creatures who don’t have our best interests at heart!
Twilight: My school teaches for all of us to work together through friendship.
Neighsay: (stomping for emphasis) And how do you know these creatures won’t take what they have learned here and use it against us?
Twilight: Friendship isn’t just for ponies.
Neighsay: (leaning toward her) It should be.
Rutherford: Unicorn think yaks don’t need friendship? (leaning into Neighsay’s face) Maybe yaks don’t need pony school!
Neighsay: (pushing him back) Well, then, perhaps you should return to your kind. (Ember and Thorax take this very badly.)
Ember: (needled) “Your kind”? Smolder, let’s go!
(She lifts off, the young orange dragon following her after a rueful glance back at her new friends.)
Seaspray: Queen Novo will want to hear of this! (He strides off.)
Gruff: Well, this place seemed lame anyways. (Follow Seaspray.)
(Gallus, Silverstream, and Yona slog after their elders, spirits all the way down to the bottom of their particular appendages, as Thorax crosses to Twilight and Ocellus. The other staff members gather in during the next line.)
Thorax: It’s fine. We know not everypony sees us the way you do. (flying away with Ocellus) We’re used to it.
(An indignant Twilight strides over to Neighsay.)
Twilight: Princess Celestia helped me reach out to all the kingdoms! When she hears you closed the School because—
Neighsay: (overlapping her last word) —because you failed to meet the EEA’s standards?
Twilight: What?
Neighsay: Irresponsible teachers! Students skipping class! Endangering ponies! Your school is a disaster! Perhaps if you had higher standards for who was admitted— (pacing past her) —this could have been avoided. (Stop on a hillock.) Regardless…
(A brief press of one hoof against the medallion on his cloak causes it to blaze gold and feed power into his horn as it warms up. The two magics combine into a red/gold beam that lances up several yards at an angle, terminating in a large, crackling orb that disappears after a long moment. It is replaced by loops of glowing chain links that encircle the entire complex and constrict toward the central building. A flash causes a large wax seal to materialize some yards out from the front door; it shows a closed eye within a capital Greek omega letter, a keyhole, and two lengths of chain crossed to form an X. The ends of the magic chains hook into the edges, and the whole lot zooms toward the doors and flashes blinding white on contact. When the view clears, the seal has affixed itself to the doors and the chains extend only as far as the frame to hold it in place. Wisps of smoke dribble up from the seal as viscous rivulets of wax trickle down from its lower edge.)
Neighsay: (stomping for emphasis) By order of the EEA, I am shutting this school down!
Twilight: (softly, aghast) Oh…
(Cut to a “To be continued…” title card and snap to black.)
Continued in Part Two
SCHOOL DAZE—PART TWO
Written by Michael Vogel, Nicole Dubuc
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a “Previously on My Little Pony” title card, then to black, then in to the opening shot of Part One: Twilight Sparkle and company gathering around the expanded magical map in the throne room of the Castle of Friendship.)
Twilight: This happened while we were gone? (Pinkie Pie, equipped with tool belt and lighted hard hat, plies a tape measure.)
Applejack: (voice over) Friendship quests beyond Equestria?
(Cut to the exterior of the School of Friendship and zoom out.)
Twilight: (voice over) We’re gonna open a school!
Chancellor Neighsay: (voice over) We expect you to do things by the book.
(On these last three words, cut to the meeting hall of the Equestria Education Association; he levitates a copy of its formidable rulebook off his desk and lets it thud down at Twilight’s feet. The next shot is of the front doors swinging open to admit the new students.)
Twilight: (voice over) We have a huge responsibility— (Cut to each of her friends in turn, lecturing halfheartedly in their respective classes.) —and I need you all to do this by the book.
(Gallus, Sandbar, and Smolder walk the halls, not too thrilled with their academic experience.)
Smolder: These ponies are the heroes of Equestria?
(Cut to her and Silverstream giving Yona a lift during their unauthorized side trip to the lake. All are in a much better frame of mind out here, and Ocellus does her transformation to throw a gigantic shadow over her five classmates—these three plus Gallus carrying Sandbar.)
Gallus: (voice over) This is just a quick…mental health break.
(The campus: the six come in for a landing, Ocellus’s change revealed as a massive dragonfly/bumblebee/mosquito cross-breed.)
Neighsay: (voice over) The School is under attack!
(Total panic takes hold among those in attendance for Friends and Family Day; next, he faces the truants down amid the wreckage of the tower they wiped out, Ocellus back to her usual form.)
Neighsay: Those are students?
(He conjures up magical chains that wrap around the entire complex and contract to lock the front doors, secured with a seal.)
Neighsay: (voice over) I am shutting this school down!
(This last word is delivered on camera, accompanied by an emphatic stomp, when the view cuts to him.)
Twilight: (softly, aghast) Oh…
(Snap to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to Twilight’s bedchamber within the Castle and zoom in slowly on the bed itself, piled high with a jumble of random pillows. Others litter the floor, and the doors and all the curtains are closed. A melancholy melody issues from a crank-operated phonograph on the nightstand as Spike opens one door to peek in.)
Spike: Twilight? You feeling okay?
(A long groan in his boss’s voice issues from somewhere within the mound. He lifts the needle off the record to cut off the music, then removes one pillow to unearth her face. Her mane is a wreck, the tears running down her cheeks have puddled on the bedspread, and the wadded tissues and full box strewn around her speak to just how rough a time she has been having. With a pathetic little moan, she levitates the pillow out of Spike’s hands and sets it back in place to hide herself away again; he groans quietly to himself, then smiles.)
Spike: Look on the bright side. (climbing up, lounging on pile) Sure, the EEA closed your friendship school, but now you’ve got time to do other stuff. It’s like being on vacation!
(Twilight heaves up to her haunches, scattering the pillows everywhere and launching Spike across the room with a yelp.)
Twilight: A failure vacation! (Cut to him, on the floor, and back as she continues.) I’m supposed to be the Princess of Friendship, and all I did was make enemies with Equestria’s allies, upset my friends, and get my school… (One eye twitches.) …unaccredited! (flailing forelegs) There is no bright side!
(She lets herself flop back onto the mattress, scattering a few more pillows, and ends up hidden from view due to the placement of the camera just beyond the bed’s footboard. The box of tissues is floated up, and one is extracted and brought down for an extended bit of nose-blowing.)
Spike: (to himself) Okay, then. I’m gonna need backup. (He stands and addresses the doors at full voice.) Operation Cheer-Up is a go!
(They are knocked fully open by the airborne arrival of Rainbow Dash, who immediately opens one set of window curtains to let sunlight pour into the room. The violet Princess gives her an incredibly dirty look and covers her eyes with a wing.)
Rainbow: Come on, Twilight! You can’t sit around in the boring dark all day! (Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rarity walk in, Pinkie balancing a platter of treats on her head.)
Applejack: Exactly!
(Close-up: an open jar with a spoon stuck in is tucked in her saddlebags.)
Applejack: What you need is a double dose of Granny Smith’s apple mash.
(Getting the handle in her teeth, she brings up a load of said product and offers it to Twilight, who parts her wing feathers just enough to roll her eyes disgustedly before covering them again. The bemused farmer straightens up, the camera zooming out on the next line to frame Fluttershy stepping up alongside her. The pegasus is toting her own bags.)
Fluttershy: Whenever I’m sad, a hug from Angel bunny always makes me feel better.
(Said white rabbit pushes the flap open, squeaks in alarm once she points out the crisis, and hops onto the bed. Dragging Twilight’s wing away from her face, he gives her the biggest smile and hug he can drum up with his short limbs—but the ploy backfires on him. Not only does she fail to cheer up, but he degenerates into a whimpering ball of white fluff.)
Fluttershy: Oh! (She hastily returns him to her bags.) Uh…maybe it’s just me. (Lame chuckle; pan to frame Rarity stepping to the footboard on the next line.)
Rarity: I find that nothing brightens my mood like a new ensemble.
(And she proceeds to shove one onto Twilight’s supine form with a little horn-power. The recipient finds herself standing on the mattress and clad in a dress whose upper half is inspired by Elizabethan fashion: white neck ruff over a high blue-green collar, long gray/white striped sleeves, gold-trimmed pink tunic. The skirt, on the other hand, is a two-layer affair in pink/gold and two-tone blue-green that resembles an upside-down jester’s cap and bells.)
Twilight: (sighing) Thanks, Rarity. It’s a great dress… (sobbing, collapsing to haunches) …for somepony who knows how to run a school!
(Her decision to blow her nose on the skirt sends Rarity into an almighty cringe; now Pinkie whips over next to Spike.)
Pinkie: (aside, to him) You didn’t tell me this was a pity party! I would have brought ice cream!
Twilight: (composed) I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but not everything can be fixed with dresses and cupcakes. (Rarity gasps sharply.)
Pinkie: What?!?
(Her own start of surprise jostles a few sweets off the platter on her head; Twilight removes the dress.)
Twilight: (jumping off bed) I just need some time to be alone and think.
(She clomps slowly out of the room, her magic pulling the doors shut. Dissolve to the exterior of the Castle, the School sitting immediately to the viewer’s right with the walkway over its perimeter lake projecting from the crystalline roots. Twilight plods along this toward the sealed doors and stops to face them with a deflated moan in a head-on close-up, her mane back in order. The next words jolt her out of this deep blue funk, and the camera pivots slightly during them to frame Starlight standing a short distance back.)
Starlight: (smugly) I wondered how long you’d take to get tired of pillow fort pouting.
Twilight: Everypony’s already tried to cheer me up. It won’t work.
Starlight: (chuckling) Oh, I’m not gonna cheer you up. I’m gonna tell you what you did wrong. (Twilight whirls to face her.)
Twilight: What?!
Starlight: You gave up too easily. (Twilight shoots her a funny look.) Hey, you made me a guidance counselor. (poking Twilight’s chest) That means tough love. (The hoof is pushed back.)
Twilight: Neighsay was right. (pacing past Starlight) I failed. The school was a disaster. (Starlight cuts her off.)
Starlight: So was I when you met me. (lifting Twilight’s chin) But you showed me that when you know in your heart something is right, you stand up for it. You did that for me. (gesturing toward doors) Why not for this?
(The camera tilts up to follow her gaze toward the rooftops, then cuts back to Twilight.)
Twilight: (gesturing about) I can’t go against the EEA! They’re in charge of all the schools in Equestria!
Starlight: (pushing her hoof down) And you’re in charge of all the friendship in Equestria. Why should you let somepony else stop you from doing your job?
Twilight: (pulling out EEA guidebook) But the EEA rulebook—
(She is not at all prepared for her friend to smack it into the water.)
Starlight: —doesn’t matter!
(During these two words, cut to Twilight watching it sink into the depths. Once the ripples subside, her worried reflection appears in the surface and Starlight steps closer.)
Starlight: You can write your own rules, because you’re doing something new. Something important. (Twilight turns to her with a smile.)
Twilight: You’re right! Why we’re doing this is way more important than how we’re doing this— (stomping for emphasis) —and we are doing this!
Starlight: Now that’s the Twilight I know. How can I help?
Twilight: You already have.
(The two mares embrace on the walkway. Dissolve to an overhead shot of her throne room, all the seats occupied except for hers; the rest of her friends have ditched the gear they used to try and cheer her up, and Spike has quill/scroll at the ready. The doors fly open to reveal a jubilant Twilight at the threshold.)
Twilight: Guess what! The School of Friendship is back in business! (Starlight peeks in behind her. Disbelief on the others’ faces.)
Rainbow: What?!
Rarity: But why?
Fluttershy: Oh, no.
Applejack: Bad idea.
Pinkie: Do we still get to guess?
Rainbow: No offense, Twilight, but teaching at that school was the most boring, horrible, awful thing ever.
Applejack: (aside, to her) Uh, pretty sure she’s gonna take offense to that.
Twilight: (walking in; Starlight follows) No. Rainbow Dash is right. I owe you all an apology. (Her perspective, panning slowly across the table.) I was so focused on doing things the EEA way, I didn’t listen to any of you. (Back to her and Starlight.) I’m sorry. I promise, this time we’ll run the School like friends should—together.
(Zoom out to frame the entire room, then cut to Fluttershy/Pinkie/Rarity.)
Rarity: So…we’d be allowed to teach however we want to?
Fluttershy: No more scary pop quizzes?
Pinkie: Confetti cannons for everycreature?
(One such piece of party artillery deploys itself near every occupant of the room, all sporting customized paint jobs.)
Twilight: (laughing) Whatever you need to teach the Elements of Harmony.
Pinkie: YIPPEE!!
(All eight fire off at once to rain confetti down over the meeting. Cut to a close-up of Twilight and Starlight—grinning and smiling, respectively—and zoom out on the next line to frame the five mares now gathered around them.)
Applejack: Well, in that case, we’re behind you one hundred percent, Twilight. (Throat-clearing from the o.s. Spike; cut to him.)
Spike: (holding up two fingers) Just two small problems. (counting off one) The School is still unaccredited… (Twilight’s eye twitches; he counts the other.) …and we don’t have any students!
(A soft gasp signals the onset of a brainstorm for Twilight.)
Twilight: I’ll take care of the first part if you five can round up our class.
Rainbow: Totally! (catching herself) Uh…how?
Applejack: Roundin’ up the pony students ain’t gonna be an issue, but—
Fluttershy: —the creatures from the other kingdoms seemed pretty upset with us.
Rarity: Pfft! Nonsense! (flicking a curl) I’m certain we can win them over with our charm and style.
(Optimism takes root in the brain behind the purple eyes as the view dissolves to the interior of a hut in Yakyakistan. Prince Rutherford sits cross-legged on a wooden throne atop a small dais, marking this as the realm’s seat of power. Its back reaches above his head and is topped by a pair of broad horns trimmed in gold; burning wall-mounted torches frame it on either side. The rest of the area sports rough wooden furniture, cushions on the floor, wall/ceiling textile hangings, and rugs covering most of the dirt floor. A low table set with food stands across from the throne. Pinkie slips in past the blanket covering the entrance; she carries an open box of cupcakes and is wearing a blue baseball cap marked with this same item.)
Pinkie: (singsong) Cupcake-gram for Prince Rutherford! (Close-up of him.)
Rutherford: Why pink pony here? Yaks mad at ponies!
(She sidles up, now without the box and cap and holding a single treat.)
Pinkie: Because… (shoving it in his mouth) …you don’t have to be mad anymore! (hugging him) We’re reopening Twilight Sparkle’s School of Friendship! (backflipping away) And it’s gonna be super-uper-duper better than before!
(Cut to Rarity addressing Dragon Lord Ember, who hovers and holds the Bloodstone Scepter as her symbol of office, and a couple of her skeptical subjects in the Dragon Lands.)
Rarity: We’re ever so sorry about the misunderstanding. All creatures are, of course, welcome.
(Now Fluttershy speaks to Thorax, his brother Pharynx, and an onlooker changeling in their domain.)
Fluttershy: We would be really happy if you sent your student back to class.
(Applejack stands before General Seaspray and a second hippogriff with slightly lighter coloration. They are on the streets of the settlement on the peak of Mount Aeris, which had been abandoned by the hippogriffs in their retreat to the sea; the place is starting to make a comeback.)
Applejack: It won’t be the same without ‘em. We’re open and ready to start teachin’—
(In Griffonstone, Rainbow hovers just outside an upper-story window in Groff’s house to speak to him.)
Rainbow: —right now! So… (He turns his face away; she moves closer.) …what are you waiting for? Get your student and let’s go!
Gruff: (emphatically) Not happenin’!
Rainbow: (groaning) Do you need me to do the whole apology and explanation thing again? Okay.
(She inflates her lungs to bursting as part of the windup for it, but Gruff darts out to put a talon to her lips before she can get the first syllable out.)
Gruff: Listen, missy. It’s not happenin’ because—
(Smaller images of the other four elders slide in to tile the screen on either side of him: Rutherford and Thorax on the left, Ember and Seaspray on the right. Ember no longer holds the Scepter.)
All five: —our student is gone!
(These panels slide away and are replaced by the five visitors in the same respective positions, their minds completely blown by this update.)
Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity: What?!?!?
(Fade to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of Canterlot and zoom in slowly.)
Rutherford: (voice over) Where Yona?!?
(Cut to the throne room of Canterlot Castle. Princesses Celestia and Luna are seated on the upper level of its dais, accompanied by a standing Twilight, and watching the advance of the elders from the other five dominions.)
Rutherford: This all ponies’ fault! (Cut to him and Ember.)
Ember: (to him) You’re pretty quick to blame them! (They butt heads.) What are you hiding, yak? (He snorts out steam.)
Thorax: (stammering) Can—can we just focus on finding our lost students?
Gruff: Nice try! You grubs are probably hidin’ the whole lot of ’em!
Celestia: (from o.s.) Please, everycreature! (Cut to her, Luna, and Twilight; she shifts from standing to sitting.) If you can just explain what happened…
Seaspray: (stepping forward) The students left us notes before they disappeared. When the School closed, they didn’t want to say goodbye to each other. They claimed they ran away to stay together.
(Twilight’s features shift into a relieved smile in less time than it takes to say “bug out.”)
Twilight: I can’t believe it! They did learn friendship!
(This outburst earns a round of quizzical looks from the delegation.)
Twilight: Sorry.
Seaspray: The students couldn’t have done this by themselves. Somecreature is hiding them! If the niece of our Queen is not found soon— (thumping his chest) —I promise there will be retribution!
Ember: (incensed, flying into his face, breathing a spurt of fire) Yeah? Well, my dragons will burn every kingdom until we find which of you is hiding Smolder! (Gruff flies up to her, ready to punch it out.)
Gruff: Tell it to the griffon army! (Rutherford shoves them apart.)
Rutherford: Yaks fight griffons and dragons!
Thorax: The Changeling Empire can’t afford an international incident. If any creature blames the changelings for this— (Ember rounds on him.)
Ember: What are you up to, shape-shifter?
Thorax: But we’re friends.
(Recall that they met during their coincidental visits to Ponyville in “Triple Threat.”)
Celestia: (aside) Find the students quickly, Twilight, or I fear our world will be at war.
(Now good and scared, the youngest Princess in the room takes wing. Dissolve to a long shot of Sugarcube Corner and zoom in slowly.)
Twilight: (voice over) Okay. Let’s review what we know.
(Cut to an extreme close-up of the top left corner of a sheet of paper on an easel inside, depicting a sketch of Smolder’s face next to a block of text. On the next line, the camera tilts down to a similar picture of each named student in turn and Spike points from one to the next.)
Spike: (from o.s.) Smolder, Ocellus, Silverstream, Yona, and Gallus disappeared together.
(Zoom out quickly to frame the entire shop floor. He and the easel are up on a counter for all seven mares to see. Down the right edge of the page are five large question marks. Twilight has a quill and scroll in her field, ready to take notes, but shifts them after a long silence to give Spike a “get on with it” gesture.)
Spike: That’s all we know. (Cut to Applejack/Fluttershy/Pinkie.)
Applejack: They’re prob’ly just off hidin’ somewhere. (Pan to Starlight on the next line.)
Starlight: Unless they used some kind of spell to disappear.
Rainbow: Ooh, or went undercover!
Pinkie: (to Fluttershy) Maybe they were attacked by a ferocious shrimp! (nudging her) Nopony ever expects that.
Fluttershy: (gasping in fright) Shrimps can attack?
Pinkie: Nope! That’s why nopony expects it. (Wink.)
(The bell over the door jingles as Sandbar enters, a ticket clamped in his teeth. He freezes in his tracks upon noticing the investigative octet and Spike’s chart.)
Sandbar: Whoa!
(Tacking on one of the shakiest grins in recorded pony history, the pale green colt eases across the floor as if it were covered with live grenades. He sets his ticket down on top of a display case, only for Pinkie to instantly pop up behind it and scare him all over again.)
Pinkie: Hi, Sandbar!
(In a trice, she has whisked the slip away and piled five boxes into his grip, the topmost open to reveal a batch of cupcakes.)
Pinkie: Are you having a party?
Sandbar: (sweating profusely) No! I’m just…um…really hungry, yeah?
(A big squeaky grin creases the pink face; he sneaks toward the door, unnoticed by the rest of the gang.)
Rarity: We need to think like our students. (He stops, dropping a few cupcakes; Pinkie opens the door so he can exit.) If someone told us we would never see each other again, what would we do?
Pinkie: Go someplace we could all hang out and eat lots and lots of cupcakes!
(This conclusion earns her the mother of all funny looks from the others.)
Pinkie: (shrugging, puzzled) Whaaaat?
Fluttershy: Sandbar was friends with all of the missing students, and he just got plenty of cupcakes.
Applejack: (rubbing chin) Huh. He was at the farm this mornin’, pickin’ up a wagonload of apples.
Rarity: And I saw him in a shop, buying pillows and blankets! (Rainbow drops in above them with a gasp.)
Rainbow: He must be taking all that stuff to the other students! (socking one front hoof against the other) We gotta follow him!
(Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity charge toward the open door only to get wedged side by side in the frame, to Pinkie’s amusement. She dives over them just as Rainbow tries to make her own flying exit, with the result that these two also end up jammed in place. Cut to the exterior of the building; they finally pop loose and end up sprawled all over the stoop and pavement. As they start to get up, the view dissolves to a long shot of the ruins of the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, or of the Two Sisters, and zooms in slowly. Gallus flies above the site, describing wide lazy arcs and laughing merrily; cut to within the entrance hall as he darts down through the gaping hole in its ceiling and somersaults into a landing. Ocellus sits on the stairs, reading one of the many books piled around her; Silverstream emerges from a side corridor; Smolder walks in carrying an armored helmet.)
Gallus: Huh. (lifting off, gliding about) This place is way cooler than I thought it’d be.
(Silverstream flits here and there, her attention grabbed by any new detail; now Yona hurries into view down the stairs, but steps on the end of a braid and describes a most painful belly flop on the floor. The orange dragon, meanwhile, is snacking on the gems she can pry loose from the helmet.)
Smolder: Even I’m impressed. What’s it called again, Ocellus?
Ocellus: The Castle of the Two Sisters. (Close-up.) I remembered it from class—Princess Twilight’s History of Pre-Equestrian Friendships.
Gallus: (from o.s.) Ha! (Longer shot; he is hanging by his tail from a pole.) Who knew?
(He flips loose and touches down on the stairs with a chuckle.)
Gallus: School was actually good for something. (Yona stands up.)
Yona: Yona not really like School— (gathering Gallus/Ocellus/Smolder into a crushing hug) —but Yona like new friends! (Smolder has now set the helmet aside.)
Smolder: (half-strangled) Smolder like breathing!
Silverstream: (from o.s.) Hey, you guys! (She is hovering at an elevated window over the doors.) Sandbar is back!
(The other four hustle eagerly toward her; cut to the colt, hauling a train of three carts harnessed one to the next and loaded up with the supplies that the grownups recalled. One of the rearmost wheels bounces heavily over a stone in the path, causing an apple to fall out of that cart and land in front of an adjoining bush. A short, orange-furred arm shoots out from the foliage to snatch it. Yona throws the doors open with gusto.)
Yona: Cupcakes are best cakes!
(She peels out toward Sandbar, who voices a frightened shout and throws up a foreleg to protect his head from a most unpleasant high-speed encounter with the overexcited yak. Gallus pulls in overhead to hold the ends of her braids for most of the run; as soon as he lets go, she steps on one and goes head over rump as before. This time, though, she comes to a dead stop on her haunches just short of crashing into Sandbar and starts panting and wagging her tail like a dog.)
Sandbar: (sighing with relief) Thanks for the assist, Gallus.
Gallus: Pfft! I was saving the cupcakes.
(A shaggy hoof and a set of talons open the topmost box to reveal the colorful baked goodness within, and the students attached to those limbs start chowing down messily. Ocellus flies past them to check out the soft knitted stuff in the next cart; Sandbar is out of his harness now.)
Ocellus: (diving in) Pillows! How nice! The castle is going to be so much more comfy. (Here comes Smolder.)
Smolder: And fun! (She seizes one…) Pillow fight!
(…and lets fly, scoring a direct hit on Sandbar that knocks him to his haunches. He has just enough time to recover his senses and bite down on it to defend against her swinging follow-up, but an approaching shadow and buzz of wings causes them both to forget the feathered fracas. Zoom out to frame the cause as a massive bugbear—see “Slice of Life” for anatomical details— striped in white and pale blue. The paws of all six legs clutch a load of pillows to the broad chest, and the coloration of its fur and wings gives it away as Ocellus in a new form. She slams to the ground, pinning Sandbar and Smolder under her bulk, and all five have a good laugh over the prank.)
Silverstream: (from o.s.) You guys!
(A wash of magic, and the changeling is herself again as all five heads turn toward the voice. Close-up of the enraptured Silverstream.)
Silverstream: I just found… (Zoom out; she gestures at a door and its set of…) …STAIRS!!
(General bewilderment from the rest of the students.)
Gallus: Aaaand we care because…?
Silverstream: (running talons over them) Stairs are awesome! We don’t have anything like ’em underwater ’cause, you know… (She touches her pendant; a flash, and she has become a sea pony.) …no way to climb ’em.
Other five: Ohhhhh! (Silverstream resumes hippogriff form and hovers.)
Silverstream: This place has everything! (wistfully, landing on stairs) If only my family back home could see it.
(An apple is thrown into view, bonking off the top of her head; she catches it and bites down, instantly forgetting to be sad. Cut to the other five, Smolder marking herself as the tosser by wiping her hands.)
Ocellus: I wish the other changelings could meet you all. You’re not nearly as strange as the stories say.
Smolder: (sourly) Gee, thanks. (airily) But, yeah. Hanging out with other creatures is actually, uh…not bad.
(A rustling from somewhere o.s. cuts her off, and eyes turn toward one of the bushes at the periphery of the entrance area. Something orange, fuzzy, and approximately spherical pitches out of it and onto the flagstones, where it uncurls to expose a hairless face, beady black eyes, four stubby limbs, and a short tail. It sits on it haunches, and its coloration marks it as the one that took the fallen apple from Sandbar’s cart. The next sequence establishes its size as roughly chest-high to him.)
Sandbar: Uh, most other creatures. (pointing) What is that thing?
Ocellus: (sighing) Am I the only one who didn’t sleep through Professor Fluttershy’s Critters of Comfort and Conflict class? (smiling) It’s a puckwudgie! Maybe I can make friends with it!
(Magic swirls to turn her into this form, with pale blue fur and pink exposed skin on face and paws. She crosses to the orange puckwudgie, waving and gibbering animatedly in its language. It responds with brisling fur and a savage snarl that exposes a mouthful of pointed teeth; the noise serves as a summons to bring many others—some pink, others blue—bounding out of the undergrowth. All start into a round of menacing screeches, prompting Ocellus to back up to her friends and revert to her true form.)
Ocellus: Oops. (Sheepish laugh.)
Yona: Yak plan better.
(She throws herself into a yelling headlong charge; the puckwudgies fail to be cowed, but instead turn their backs to her and launch a salvo of porcupine-like quills. These arc high and bear down directly on her, stopped only at the last second by one of Sandbar’s empty carts when it is swung into view as a shield. The wielder proves to be a hovering Silverstream, who sets it down only for the orange one to jump on and let go with a string of very bad puckwudgie language. Yona is first to back off, dragging Silverstream to keep her from taking a fresh round of quills to the face.)
(Gallus and Sandbar flee from the doors as reinforcements bounce after them, but all too soon the six find themselves being hemmed in by advancing attackers in all three shades—orange, pink, blue. The carts have all been emptied, and the students quickly pull them together as a makeshift barricade and hunker down fearfully behind them as the puckwudgies brace for a new assault. Fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the imminent shelling and zoom in slowly, then cut to one cart as Silverstream risks a peek over it. Smolder pops up behind her and heaves a pillow toward the puckwudgies, who waste no time in shooting it full of holes.)
Smolder: Think, Ocellus! Did Professor Fluttershy say anything about how to beat puckwudgies in her lecture?
Ocellus: (sighing) I’m sorry, I can’t remember!
Gallus: I’m gonna go ahead and guess it’s not pillows, apples…
(Grab a cupcake from the ground; hold it up and o.s.; sound of quills launching; pull it down, now bristling with them.)
Gallus: …or cupcakes. (Cut to Silverstream/Smolder/Yona.)
Silverstream: Wouldn’t class have been about how to make friends with them?
Sandbar: (from o.s.) Uh, guys? (Long shot of the battleground; he peeks up.) They’re getting really close. (Their side again.)
Yona: (smiling) Yona not scared! Yona have friends!
(She puts out one determined front hoof, each of the others piling on a hand/hoof/talon to show their support. All six face front resolutely as three puckwudgies begin hurling themselves from point-blank range—and then a rainbow contrail blasts across the screen to clear out this first wave. The students look over the carts, totally befuddled, and are treated to the sight of Rainbow streaking past to stick one by its quills onto each of three adjoining trees. She flips a salute toward the group as Gallus boggles up at her, shading his eyes.)
Gallus: Is that Professor Egghead?
(Magic fields in two different colors seize many of the remaining puckwudgies and plow them away, courtesy of the arriving Twilight and Starlight. The mares back this move up by touching the tips of their glowing horns together, generating a shock wave that radiates outward to clear away the rest of the attackers, after which they gallop off to continue the fight. Spike jumps up to nail one with a flying headbutt.)
Spike: Yeah!
(The victory is short-lived, as he is forced to bug out ahead of two others that start chasing after him. Cut to an extreme close-up of one getting its quills telekinetically styled and tied with bows, then cut to Rarity on the job. The puckwudgie in question has resigned itself to this treatment, which is just about to include hairspray and makeup when Spike races past, now chased by three rather than two. A bit of thought, and she has finished her makeover as these assailants run back the other way, now good and scared. Applejack lassos two at once to bring them down, while a couple of nearby birds airlift the third up to a hovering Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: Oh! Don’t hurt them! (The birds drop it into her forelegs for a hug.) Just ask them to leave nicely.
(Pinkie wheels her party cannon into view past the animal lover, who carries her snarling little captive away, and points it skyward just in time for Rainbow to stuff several others down the barrel. A wipe of dust from the blue hooves, the fuse burns, and the whole lot of them get blasted into the stratosphere amid an explosion of confetti. In a long shot of the ruins, the irked puckwudgies descend safely to earth thanks to the parachutes that have been strapped to their backs. By this point, Fluttershy has discarded the one she was carrying.)
(Yona is the first to smile as the students stare confusedly past their blockade.)
Yona: Not bad! (mock-dismissively) For pony.
Ocellus: Wow! They’re amazing!
Gallus: I had no idea our teachers were actually cool.
Sandbar: (laughing) I’ve been trying to tell you!
Silverstream: Oh, did you see that? (swooping back and forth, knocking carts away) Rainbow Dash was like, zoooom, and then whoooaaa, the puckwudgies went flying! And then the birds came and— (Smolder cuts her off with a hand on her talons.)
Smolder: (dryly) Yeah. We all just lived it. (smiling) But you’re right. That was pretty amazing—even by dragon standards.
(After Twilight, Rainbow, and Starlight have run the last few stragglers out of the joint, the Princess gallops back to the six youths.)
Twilight: Is everycreature all right?
(They mumble assent as she gives Yona a once-over and the rest of the Ponyville contingent gathers in.)
Spike: (slightly out of breath) You’re lucky we got here in time!
Starlight: You know, this probably isn’t the safest place for a campout. (Spike nods.)
Ocellus: (deflated) Does that mean you’re going to send us back to our homes?
(There follows a round of whimpering and pleading looks.)
Twilight: Not exactly. We have another option in mind.
(Smiles flick from one mare’s face to another during a long silence.)
Gallus: (neutrally) We’re listening. (Zoom in slowly on Twilight.)
Twilight: It’s pretty clear you’ve already started learning friendship without your teachers, but we’d like to show you even more— (Zoom in quickly to a close-up.) —if you’d come back to school?
(Her hopeful grin is met with rather less enthusiasm than she might have thought.)
Smolder: Not much of a choice.
Applejack: (removing hat) To be honest, we felt exactly the same way when Twilight told us she was reopening the School. (Cut to Twilight/Rarity/Starlight.)
Rarity: But this time, we guarantee it shall be different.
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Oh, yeah. (Cut to her, hovering.) When class run my way [sic], it’ll be two hundred and twenty percent cooler.
Fluttershy: (tossing EEA guidebook over shoulder; it hits a puckwudgie) And without the EEA, it’ll be much friendlier.
Pinkie: Plus, all your nations won’t go to war if you come back with us. Bonus!
(Applejack’s hat is back on again by now. The update on international relations brings all six pupils’ brains to a screeching halt.)
Sandbar: Wait. What’s happening?
(Dissolve to the upper reaches of the School of Friendship and tilt down to a long shot of them and the Ponyville bunch approaching the sealed front doors. In a closer shot, Twilight fires up her horn in preparation to blow the barrier apart, but stands down at the sound of the next voice.)
Celestia: (from o.s.) Twilight!
(She and the elders from the other nations arrive.)
Celestia: I was so relieved to get your letter.
Seaspray: As was Queen Novo. Oh, we’re just glad you’re all right, Silverstream. (Gruff whisks up to get in Gallus’s face.)
Gruff: Don’t expect a welcome party from me, sonny! It’s time you got home!
(The old griffon’s beak clamps onto the younger one’s head plumage, ready to drag him off bodily if need be, but Gallus slaps free.)
Gallus: I’m not leaving.
Gruff: Whaaaat?!
Ocellus: None of us are. (huddling behind Smolder) Sorry, Thorax.
(Cut to him, quailing before Ember’s scowl, and pan slightly to frame Rutherford fully on the next line.)
Rutherford: Yak not understand. This pony joke?
Smolder: (from o.s.) No! (Cut to her, Ocellus, and Sandbar.) We’re going back to school!
Ember: How? You can’t even get inside!
(Any further discussion gives way to puzzled glances from the students, and smiles from the mares, as the sound of Twilight’s energizing horn asserts itself. Once it reaches full, brilliant power, she lets rip with a beam that shatters Neighsay’s seal and dispels the chains holding it on.)
Twilight: School is back in session!
(A chorus of overjoyed cheers from those in attendance does not last long, as Twilight turns toward the doors to find a portal opening on their surface—the sort Neighsay used to visit the campus in Part One, Act Three. Four pale gray hooves step through and touch down on the doorstep, one by one, and the uptight unicorn picks up a shard of his seal only for it to crumble on his hoof.)
Neighsay: Who dared remove my seal?
Twilight: I did, Chancellor Neighsay. And I respectfully ask you to step aside, or classes will start late.
Neighsay: Classes won’t start at all! (facing her down) The EEA has spoken, and none shall pass!
(His stomp against the step generates a shock wave that shakes the entire area briefly as it radiates outward.)
Yona: Yak pass if yak say! Hmph! (Sandbar strains to hold her back from a charge.)
Neighsay: This is for the greater good. The School was disorganized, the teachers unqualified! And those dangerous and unpredictable students put ponies’ lives in danger!
(On the end of this, he points to one side and the camera pans quickly to the tower they trashed. It then shifts to a slow pan across the foreign delegation, none of whose members find this even remotely amusing; Rutherford even goes so far as to growl softly.)
Ember: (snarling) I’ll show you unpredictable!
(All five members begin to advance, hurling threats and invective and general unfriendly language at the administrator, but halt when Celestia puts out a hoof to bar the way.)
Celestia: Hold on, please! I’m sure Princess Twilight Sparkle has a good explanation for all of this.
Twilight: I do. It’s true that my School of Friendship is EEA unaccredited.
Spike: (to Rarity) Look! She said it without doing the eye thing!
Neighsay: Then it is not a school!
Twilight: (smugly, pushing him back) It’s not an EEA school, it’s a friendship school—(Glance up over the doors; long shot of the campus as birds fly past. Slow pan.) —with its own rules.
(Back to her and Neighsay.)
Twilight: I should know. I wrote the book.
(A bit of horn-power conjures up a hardback volume and drops it at Neighsay’s hooves. It is at least three times as thick as the EEA guidebook, and its cover is purple, displaying her cutie mark within a gold laurel wreath and circle. Neighsay glowers at its very existence.)
Twilight: (gesturing to group) These students reminded me that every friendship is special. (Pan across them and the elders; she continues o.s.) So the way we teach it has to be just as unique. (Back to her.) My school is going to do things differently.
Neighsay: (pushing rulebook aside) Allowing all of these creatures to attend your school! Changing the rules for them! It simply won’t work!
(On the next line, cut to just behind him, Celestia flying down to land on the doorstep.)
Celestia: I seem to recall something about earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi doing something similar, don’t you?
Twilight: I promise you, Chancellor, my school will help protect Equestria.
Neighsay: Or destroy it!
(He leaps back through his portal, which vanishes in a wash of blue flame. The students are quite vocal in their joy at his exit, but the elders are much more pensive about the way this showdown has ended.)
Gruff: Hmph! How’s this school gonna be any different from last time?
(Zoom in quickly on Twilight, who just tips him a smiling wink.)
Light orchestral melody, brisk 4 (D major)
(Cut to just within the doors as they swing open to admit the students and faculty.)
Twilight: This brand-new School of Friendship is home to everyone
(Ocellus, carrying a box of books, is spooked into dropping them when Gallus holds the entrance hall’s bust of Flash Magnus toward her.)
Ocellus: We’re learning how to trust
(Both laugh over the prank.)
Gallus: We’re here to all have fun
(One of Yona’s braids swings across the screen; now Rarity loops the ends behind the young yak’s ears with her magic and secures them with bows.)
Rarity: With friendship ties that bind us
(Yona lays a big-league hug on her. A cider mug float past; behind its edge, wipe to Applejack and Rainbow raising drinks for a toast as a stallion chugs his down.)
Applejack: Tighter than the strongest bonds
(Fluttershy draws Twilight and Starlight together so they can join hooves.)
Fluttershy: We’re hoof in hoof
(A chain quickly forms: Yona to Smolder to Sandbar to Silverstream to Twilight.)
All: In hand in hoof in wing or even claw
Light percussion in
(Seven mares, six students, and one dragon have now formed a circle in the hall. Gallus zooms past in the fore; behind him, wipe to the exterior of the School and zoom in as he flies toward it, emerging in its courtyard and zeroing in on his five new friends. Twilight watches from an upper-story window.)
Twilight: There’s a griffon in the garden
(She, Rainbow, and Spike pass Silverstream talking with Seaspray.)
Rainbow: Hippogriffs hang in the hall
(Sandbar, Yona, and a filly barrel past, followed by Smolder on the wing.)
Spike: And the door will be open to all creatures great and small
Brass builds (E major)
(Pinkie straightens up into view strumming a mandolin with a harmonica on an attached holder; a tuba coils around her midsection. Zoom out to frame her, the students, and three adult yaks in a gaily decorated classroom under a rain of confetti.)
Pinkie: And a yak or two or three
Yaks: Singing perfect harmony
(Out in the hall, Fluttershy and Starlight walk past only to encounter a duplicate of the pegasus with Angel riding on her back.)
Starlight: That might have been a changeling
Fluttershy with Angel: But it kinda looks like me
Full percussion in
(The bunny rubs his eyes in disbelief at the carbon copy—doubtless Ocellus in disguise—before the bough of an apple tree floats past the camera. Behind it, wipe to a barn-like workshop equipped with plenty of tables and tools, as well as a blackboard for teaching purposes. A fully loaded tree is rooted in the center of the floor. Applejack is leading the group in a wood shop class; Ocellus is herself again now.)
All: This School of Friendship is for all of us
(Yona climbs up on a countertop, puts her back to the others, and lets herself topple so they can catch her.)
A place where we belong, where we all learn to share and trust
(An opulently appointed room, not too far off from the theme of the Carousel Boutique, with a raised platform at its center. Clothing design sketches and racks of fabric bolts line the walls around the blackboard, and a pony-shaped mannequin in a badly charred dress stands on the platform alongside a very nervous Smolder. Rarity and the rest of her students laugh at the result of the dragon’s wayward fire breath, and she comes to smile in time.)
The only rule here is to find your way
(She hefts a red kickball and takes flight confidently, the background behind her changing to a large round gymnasium. A toss to Sandbar, who heads it up to a hovering Gallus so he can pitch it through a hoop; a pegasus tries and fails to block the shot. Rainbow flies up, wearing a cap and whistle and carrying a clipboard, and gives them a beaming nod.)
And friendship always wins at the end of the day
(Gallus circles down and surprises Sandbar and Smolder by pulling them both into a hug. They laugh at his change of attitude as Silverstream and other students gather around. Fade to black, against which a spotlight beam flicks on to frame Twilight holding a book.)
Strings/piano only
Twilight: Some things you just can’t teach with books
(She floats it away; cut to a slow pan across her audience, all intently reading sheets of notes.)
Some things you only know
Bass, light percussion in
So trust your heart and let us lead
(Horn fires up; a brilliant corona surrounds her as the camera zooms out. This lecture hall is filled with bookshelves, rows of padded amphitheater seats, and scientific equipment that includes model planets suspended from the ceiling. She stands facing the class on a small stage backed by a wall-mounted blackboard.)
And your friendship’s sure to grow
Other instruments in
(Cut to Ocellus/Silverstream/Smolder in a different room; Fluttershy holds a puckwudgie into view, unsettling them considerably.)
Students: And once we master kindness
(Long shot: she and all six are in a classroom that gives onto an upper-story balcony, its ceiling supported by trees whose branches have grown together to form natural arches. Animal toys and care supplies are laid around the perimeter. Ocellus breaks the tension by turning into a mouse.)
We will spread it ’cross this land
Full percussion in; brass builds
(Silverstream swoops past in the fore and away from the camera, the view behind her shifting to a tilt up to the peak of the tower she and her friends ruined. It has been fully rebuilt, and Gallus does a final bit of polishing as Silverstream plants the flag she carries, emblazoned with the School’s crest.)
All: And give the gift that’s ours to share
(Twilight, Starlight, Celestia, and the other realms’ elders observe from ground level.)
So others understand
(Copies of Twilight’s backbreaker of a school rulebook tumble down past the camera; behind them, wipe to Starlight at the front of her own classroom—the most conventionally furnished of the lot. She paces with a book in her aura and is pleased to see one student after another raise a hoof—including an animated Angel.)
All: This School of Friendship is for all of us
A place where we belong, where we all learn to share and trust
(Sandbar and the five out-of-towners marvel over something they have found in a book. Rainbow, now without her cap/whistle/clipboard, and Gallus hoist a plank past the camera; behind them, wipe to a meadow in front of the School as they set it in place on two supports for a bench on a platform. Spike holds a copy of the crest upright in front.)
The only rule here is to find your way
(Students and teachers quickly form up in three rows, the rearmost on the bench.)
And friendship always wins at the end of the day
(The lens of a “bellows” camera extends toward them; cut to Photo Finish behind it as she snaps a picture. The flashbulb glare subsides to yield a class photo in a wooden frame.)
Song ends
(The mares’ legs fade into view behind the frame as Ember’s clawed fingers appear, gripping it—this is her perspective.)
Ember: (groaning loudly, lowering it) Fine!
(Seven apprehensive faces stare at the Dragon Lord; cut to her, hands to ears, and Smolder.)
Ember: If you promise to stop singing, Smolder can stay!
(The elders and their wards have now gathered with Twilight and company outside the front doors.)
Smolder: Wahoo!
Rutherford: (grumbling a bit, clapping Yona on the back) If dragon stay, yak stay.
Thorax: (rubbing Ocellus’s head) I know you will make the changelings proud, Ocellus.
Seaspray: (to Silverstream) You belong here. (She lays an energetic hug on him.) Now, can you show me those stair things you mentioned?
Silverstream: (laughing, very giddy) Oh, yeah!
(She is quick to whisk him away; cut to Gallus, whose self-satisfaction evaporates in the short time it takes him to glance skyward just before Gruff drops into view.)
Gruff: What? You belong at home! (Close-up.) You think I care if you’ve made friends?
Gallus: (from o.s.) Pleeeease, Grandpa Gruff?
(The curmudgeon flicks his eyes toward the ground and is stunned to find Gallus giving him both barrels of the “big sad soulful eyes” treatment, with talons clasped beseechingly under his chin and a whimper thrown in for good measure.)
Gruff: All right, all right! Stop doing that!
(His mission accomplished, Gallus turns away with an ecstatic grin and races back toward the doors. Twilight holds them open as a cheering, laughing tide of future friendship scholars stampedes into the halls of learning, and Starlight stops on the threshold to address her.)
Starlight: Guess I make a pretty good guidance counselor, huh?
Twilight: Yes! Writing the rulebook was the most fun ever! (pacing away from her; camera follows) I can’t wait to start working on the new lesson plans!
(A soft throat-clearing from the o.s. Applejack snaps her back to reality; she grins sheepishly and scratches the back of her neck as the other five mares step up.)
Twilight: With some help from my friends.
(Cut to a long shot of the entrance, zooming out as she leads them in and the elders disperse, then fade to black.)
THE MAUD COUPLE
Written by Nick Confalone
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of a building that faces a Ponyville street at night. The lighted sign on its roof displays the faces of two laughing mares and a microphone between them, marking the establishment as a comedy club. Zoom in slowly as an announcer stallion’s voice is heard.)
Announcer: (voice over) Please put your hooves together for your next performer, Maud Pie!
(Inside, he stands behind a mic on a small stage before an applauding crowd, seated at tables with small lit candles. After beckoning to one side, he clears off to make room for Maud Pie, who steps up from that end as the room goes absolutely silent. After a couple of taps to make sure it is in working order, she starts into her routine; her next four lines are amplified by the sound system.)
Maud: What do you call an alicorn with no wings and no horn? (Long pause.) Earth pony.
(The joint remains dead quiet save for Pinkie Pie’s wild laughter from somewhere off to one side, which brings more than a few puzzled looks.)
Maud: But seriously, being an earth pony isn’t so bad. (Slow pan across the baffled patrons; she continues o.s.) We’ve got magic powers too, like walking around— (Back to her.) —and picking stuff up with our teeth. (A bout of confused murmurs.) That’s sarcasm, by the way.
(Her sister’s braying laugh slashes the quiet again; pan quickly to Pinkie, pounding the table at which she is seated with Bon Bon and Lyra Heartstrings. They both give her a nasty look as she calms down just a bit and throws a foreleg across Lyra’s shoulders chummily.)
Pinkie: It’s funny… (pulling her closer) …’cause it’s true!
(She releases her hold on the green unicorn; cut back to the stage.)
Maud: My favorite thing to listen to is clastic rock. The accumulation of sediments over millennia forming to create sandstone, shale, and breccia. It sounds something like this.
(Her slight lean toward the microphone is accompanied by a brief whine of feedback; after it fades away, all the puzzled listeners strain their ears to pick up any further sound. They get a whole lot of nothing until Maud opens her mouth after some seconds and backs away.)
Maud: And that’s my time.
(With the performance now concluded, the raucously laughing Pinkie bounds onto the stage.)
Pinkie: (throwing foreleg across Maud’s shoulders) Isn’t my sister Maud the most hilarious, entertaining, amazing comedian ever?
(After a beat of total quiet, the audience erupts into gales of laughter, several members banging on the tables and even collapsing onto them. Pinkie nods acknowledgment and throws a grin to her stoic sibling. Zoom out slowly from the stage and fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the comedy club. Zoom in slowly as the doors open to let the two sisters out, then cut to a close-up of them.)
Pinkie: (giddily) Your jokes, your hilarious delivery, your— (sputtering a bit) —your everything!
Maud: How was my… (Long pause.) …timing?
Pinkie: (laughing) You got me! Come on. (hop-pivoting to fall in next to her; they start walking) Let’s celebrate, sister style! We can get matching stickers that say “Eyes on the Pies,” then show them off at the Ponyville Sticker Convention that I could plan for tomorrow if you want?
(During this line, she pulls out a sheet of four identical stickers—a googly-eyed pie—and plasters them all onto her own cheek. The two stop walking as she finishes.)
Maud: Actually, I’m busy tonight.
Pinkie: Aww, that’s what you said yesterday! (Pull the stickers off.) And the day before that, and the day before the day before that. (Sigh; circle to face Maud.) It’s just…we haven’t hung out in a really long time because you always have other plans— (pulling a can of whipped cream from her mane) —even when you promised to build whipped cream pyramids with me.
(A burst of the sweet stuff fills her mouth and ends up hanging from her chin as a beard. Cut to the impassive sister.)
Maud: I know. I am sorry, Pinkie. The reason is, I have a— (A pink hoof corks her mouth.)
Pinkie: (from o.s., cheerfully) Apology accepted!
(Cut to frame both; she has put away the can, swallowed, and cleaned her face.)
Pinkie: As long as we get some serious sister time before your birthday. (casually, pawing at ground) And there’s, uh, definitely no reason I want to hang out before your birthday. Just, uh, you know— (out of one side of her mouth, nudging Maud’s chest) —not planning anything special.
Maud: Okay.
Pinkie: What about tomorrow morning? (Big grin.)
Maud: Okay.
(The excitable pink mare scatters a hoof-load of confetti.)
Pinkie: Yay! Just you and me. Best Sister Friends Forever!
Maud: Best Sister Friends Forever.
Pinkie: (hopping around her) I can’t wait for tomorrow to be today!
(She voices a near-ultrasonic squeal of pure joy while bounding toward the camera. Once her image fills the screen, she drops out of sight, the view behind her wiping to the cavern chamber in which Maud set up housekeeping at the end of “Rock Solid Friendship.” Her squeal continues as she hops into view, and stops only when she does. The subdued mare is nowhere in sight.)
Pinkie: Tomorrow is today! Who’s ready for some fun times at Sugarcube Corner? (hopping to bedroom area) The answer is you! (calmly) I would also accept “Maud.”
(Only now does the total absence of any other equine dawn on her.)
Pinkie: Maud? (louder, looking around herself) Maud!
(The second repetition echoes hollowly over the rushing waters; once it has subsided, an inspiration hits and she voice a happy gasp.)
Pinkie: Oh, I get it! We’re playing hide-and-go-seek!
(She hops away. Wipe to a Ponyville street during the day; a stallion outfitted for construction duty gets a very big surprise when his hard hat rises off his head, carried upward on Pinkie’s brain bucket. She peers intently in a certain direction, then vanishes as quickly as she came only to pop up from a nearby barrel and flip its lid onto the roadbed. The stallion warily eases away from the spot as she continues her scrutiny, drops out of sight, and does a quick there-and-gone peek by hanging upside down from above.)
(Out on the lake, a stallion and mare have their romantic rowboat outing interrupted when Pinkie’s head breaks the surface, carrying one of the floating lily pads with it. After a flick of the blue eyes from side to side, she plunges away to leave the pad as it was. Her next move takes her to the belfry of the village clock tower; cut to her perspective as she raises a pair of binoculars to magnify the images before her. The lenses swing from one bit of Ponyville to another, finding nothing that even resembles a trace of the missing geology expert; back to Pinkie, who lowers them with a frustrated scowl and departs.)
(Cut to somewhere in Yakyakistan. A passing yak finds himself abruptly being lifted off his hooves by Pinkie so she can check the patch of ground directly beneath his shaggy bulk. No dice, so she bugs out and leaves gravity to drag him back to earth for a spreadeagle landing. He lifts the curtain of hair away from one eye in order to aim a bemused stare after the departing mare. Pinkie’s next stop is Ghastly Gorge, where—now wearing a hard hat equipped with a headlamp—she peers out from one after another of the holes used as quarray eel nests. From here, she lifts a rock on the ground from beneath as if it were a manhole cover, looks around, and ducks away again.)
(Cut to a close-up of a long-handled brush pasting up a poster that depicts Maud’s stolid countenance. A longer shot shows Pinkie having just stuck it on a tree in Ponyville; lines of text are visible above the picture, a row of question marks below—“have you seen this mare?” She has traded the hard hat for a pair of saddlebags in which the brush and several more rolled posters are stowed away, and a can of paste stands on the ground within reach. Worried eyes shift toward the copies she hast put up on a nearby building, and the camera pans in that direction to show a great deal more on walls, doors, roofs, the ground, a cart and its freight of hay bales, and even Derpy Hooves’ flank.)
(Cut to a close-up of a shut door as a knock is heard from its other side. Starlight Glimmer trots into view to open it—this is her bedroom in the Castle of Friendship—but before she can get hoof or magic to the knob, it flies open and comes within a hair of bashing her in the face. A fiercely determined Pinkie stands facing her across the threshold, having shed her bags and paste pot.)
Pinkie: Aha! (racing in) Found you!
(She darts farther in and o.s., creating a tumult of ransacking that throws the occupant for a very big loop. Starlight gets her horn in gear to catch all the items flung her way and return them to their places; her eyes express pure perplexity as Pinkie scans the room from several different angles, including one in which she dangles from a rope that drops into view. When a 360-degree turn from this vantage point yields no results, she jumps down and tips the bed up by its footboard for a quick peek underneath. This too gets her nowhere, so she sets it back down.)
Pinkie: Where’s Maud? (pacing) I’ve already checked Discord’s dimension, Granny Smith’s wax museum, and Yakyakistan! (Close-up.) She has to be here! (Pan to Starlight on the next line.)
Starlight: Nn-nope, it’s just me, reading.
(As evidenced by the book lying open on a stand; Pinkie zips over, lifts it, riffles the pages, and even gives it a good shake to dislodge any evidence that might be caught between them. Nothing of the sort turns up, so she glumly sets it back in place.)
Pinkie: Story checks out. (half-crazed, leaning into Starlight’s face) Or does it?!? (calmly) It does. (pacing to bed) But are you sure there’s nopony hiding…
(A magnifying glass is produced and held forth with great emphasis.)
Pinkie: …in your closet?!?
(Her perspective of the room as she lowers the instrument. There is no closet in sight, and the only detail even slightly out of the ordinary is a picture of a butterfly that comes partly loose from the far wall. Back to Pinkie and Starlight, the pink mare having put the glass away and adopted an expression of great vexation.)
Starlight: (crossing to her) Pinkie, I don’t have a closet. Is everything okay?
Pinkie: (sadly) No. I was supposed to go birthday cake shopping with Maud today.
Starlight: And ruin her surprise party?
Pinkie: (smiling) I wasn’t gonna tell her why, silly. But now I can’t even find Maud. (shading eyes, looking around) I’m usually way better at hide-and-seek than this.
Starlight: Well, she probably just found a new rock formation and forgot you two were gonna hang out. (foreleg across Pinkie’s shoulders, easing her toward door) Tell you what. You take care of the cake, and I’ll look for Maud.
(They stop a few feet short of the door, Pinkie hopping and turning a semicircle in midair to face her.)
Pinkie: Really? (hopping in place) Thanks, Starlight!
(Noticing some flowers in a pot on a bookcase, she uproots them for a quick look inside; no luck, so she plunks them back in place.)
Pinkie: (walking out) Just checking.
(Wipe to a building whose hanging sign—a wire whisk and chef’s white toque—mark it as associated with the baking profession. Pinkie hops merrily toward its front door; cut to just inside as her momentum knocks it open. Shelves and barrels of baking supplies/ingredients line the walls, and a pony-shaped mannequin sports a toque and apron. Pinkie reaches the counter at the opposite end of the shop, behind which a unicorn mare cashier is standing; she cocks a foreleg on it and grins slyly. The trip has put her just ahead of Mudbriar, a tall, dull gray earth pony stallion with a short mane/tail in two shades of brown, the former in a bowl cut. He bears a cutie mark of a stick with a leafed offshoot, standing in a puddle of mud, and the half-lidded eyes in the emotionless face are green. Head-on view of Pinkie, the camera aimed at her over the cashier’s shoulder.)
Pinkie: (hushed) I’ve gotta get very important ingredients for a very important pony’s cake, and it’s gotta be tippy-top super-duper-secret.
(Pan slightly to frame Mudbriar now standing alongside her. His voice is that of the archetypical pedant who will stand his ground on any and every minor point of fact until the world ends or his opponent gives up, whichever comes first.)
Mudbriar: Technically, it’s not your turn yet.
Pinkie: (normal volume) Oh! I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to cut in front of anypony.
(She backs off a step to leave him facing the cashier across the counter. No words are exchanged for a very long beat.)
Pinkie: (puzzled) Um, whatcha doin’?
Mudbriar: I am currently speaking to a pony at a baking supply shop two minutes before it closes for lunch.
Pinkie: Riiight. Okay. Just that I’m trying to plan a party here, and the clock is ticking while you, um…what are you doing, anyway?
(This line is punctuated by her peeking out from behind him to alternate sides, briefly pointing to a wristwatch on one hoof at the right moment to make her point.)
Mudbriar: (slightly slower/louder) I am currently speaking to a—
Pinkie: (hoof to face) I mean, can I help you move this along? What are you looking for? (juggling items as she names them) Rolling pins, cupcake tins, cookie cutters with tails and fins?
(This display of legerdemain only gets her only two long stares, one confused and one flat—no points for guessing which is whose.)
Mudbriar: (to cashier) Goodbye.
(A flabbergasted Pinkie whips up to the counter before the items can hit the ground.)
Pinkie: That’s what you’ve been standing here all this time to say?
Mudbriar: I was deciding between “goodbye” and “see you later.”
Pinkie: (sputtering) But they’re the same thing! (Profile close-up of Mudbriar.)
Mudbriar: Technically, they’re very different. (He starts to move slowly toward the door; sound of hooves grating on wood.) “See you later” implies an event in the near future wherein we see each other. (Longer shot; she is bulldozing him along with her head.) “Goodbye” expresses good wishes where parting or at the end of a conversation.
Pinkie: Yyyeah, same thing.
(Now at the door, he takes a step of his own and leaves Pinkie to topple forward so that her chin meets the floor first.)
Mudbriar: I will not apologize for speaking with precision.
Pinkie: (standing up, needled) In that case, apology not accepted. Goodbye later, see you, same thing! (Slam door in his face; glance toward counter.) Ugh! Can you believe that guy? (Eyes pop wide.) Huh?
(The cashier has vacated the shop, a note settling onto the counter in her stead; Pinkie whisks over to glare at it from point-blank range.)
Pinkie: (reading) “Out to lunch”? Oh, come on!
(The exterior of the shop; she opens the door and emerges.)
Pinkie: Ugh! No Maud, no cake, no anything! And how annoying was that pony? Who takes so long to say goodbye—or was it “see you later”? UGH! Now he’s got me doing it!
(Completely wrapped up in her stewing, she fails to notice Maud’s approach from the opposite direction and collides head-on, falling to her haunches.)
Maud: Hello, Pinkie Pie.
Pinkie: (instantly brightening, hugging her) Maud! Found you! My turn to hide!
(She bounds away, a giggle drifting back, but Maud clamps teeth around the end of the fluffy magenta tail to reel her back in. The two stand face to face on the start of the next line.)
Maud: I’m sorry I wasn’t around this morning.
Pinkie: Oh, pssh! What are you apologizing to me for? I’m not upset, you silly willy.
Maud: The reason is, I met somepony—
Pinkie: Want to hang out right now? (foreleg across Maud’s shoulders) I mean, I can see you’re not doing anything with anypony else. (puzzled, backing off a bit) Unless they’re invisible or reeeeally small.
(She accompanies this last by holding up her front hooves and easing them very close together as if to point up the minuscule scale of this hypothetical pony. Cut to her perspective, the hooves gradually blocking her view of everything beyond the sides of Maud’s face.)
Maud: Pinkie, the reason I’ve been so busy is that I have a boyfriend now. (Back to Pinkie, who puts her forelegs down.)
Pinkie: (aghast) A whaaa—?
Maud: A boyfriend.
Pinkie: (smiling) A whaaaaa—?
Maud: A boyfriend.
Pinkie: (beaming, hanging upside down from a tree) A whaaaaaat?
Maud: A boyfriend.
Pinkie: (back on ground, trotting in place) That’s so exciting! My sister, in love!
Maud: Technically, we’re “in like.”
Pinkie: (jumping in place) Tell me everything! (She flashes over to Maud.) Who is he? What’s his favorite color? Does he like ice cream? If he were a bird, what kind of bird would he be?
(These questions are fired off from several different angles in quick succession, culminating in Pinkie sitting on Maud’s head and bending forward to look her upside-down in the face.)
Pinkie: Wait. (She jumps off.) Is he actually a bird? Oh! (dropping to haunches) I don’t know, ’cause you haven’t told me anything yet!
Maud: You’ll like him. We have a lot in common. (Pinkie stands up.)
Pinkie: Well, I love you, so I know I’m gonna love your boyfriend! Oh, I can’t wait to meet him!
Maud: (glancing behind herself) You don’t have to.
(Her perspective—a rock jutting up from the grass adjacent to the path they are on—then back to the sisters.)
Pinkie: (gasping happily) He’s a rock! And you love rocks, so it’s perfect! (Gasp; hushed tone.) Is Boulder jealous?
Maud: No, behind the rock. (raising voice slightly) Mudbriar? Are you back there?
(Not having heard the gray stallion referred to by name in the shop, Pinkie is completely unprepared to see him step out into full view.)
Mudbriar: Technically, not anymore.
Pinkie: (gasping, aloud) A wha-whaaaaa—?!?
(Fade to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to Pinkie and Maud, the stunned younger sister’s jaw hanging full open.)
Maud: Pinkie Pie… (Mudbriar crosses to them.) …meet Mudbriar.
Mudbriar: Technically, we’ve already met. (Pinkie snaps back to herself.)
Pinkie: You?
Mudbriar: Yes.
Pinkie: (slightly deflated) You…?
Mudbriar: Yes.
Pinkie: (more deflated) You…
Mudbriar: Yes.
Pinkie: (forcing a smile/laugh) I mean, you! You, you, you!
Mudbriar: Yes, yes, yes.
Pinkie: I’m sorry. Let’s start over. (holding out a foreleg to shake) Hi! I’m Maud’s sister, Pinkie Pie! (He glances incuriously at it.)
Mudbriar: I know.
(She withdraws the limb, confusion stenciling itself on her face.)
Pinkie: (hesitantly) Soooo…how did you two meet?
Maud: At a rock show.
Pinkie: (to Mudbriar) Oh! You’re into rocks too?
Mudbriar: No. I like sticks.
Pinkie: Then why were you at a rock show?
Mudbriar: It was a petrified wood show, which technically makes it a stick show.
Maud: (as both share a smile) Except that in the permineralization process of petrification, all organic material is replaced with silicates. i.e., rocks.
Mudbriar: While retaining the original structural elements of wood. QED, it was a stick show.
Pinkie: (forcing a smile) I’m…really into sticks too!
(As she continues, an upward flick of one foreleg causes a sun-shaped piñata to drop into view on the end of a rope and she pulls out a length of wood to use as a club.)
Pinkie: They’re great for hitting piñatas!
(As she winds up for a swing the humorless stallion’s eyes shrink to panicked green points.)
Maud: Pinkie… (Who checks herself.)
Pinkie: Oh! (offering branch to Mudbriar) Oh, you want to go first?
Mudbriar: (disapprovingly) That is stick abuse.
Pinkie: It is?
(Her next move is to yank the piñata off its rope and toss both it and the improvised bludgeon out of sight.)
Pinkie: I’m sorry. Oh, this is awful! I am not being a very good sister. (smiling) Let’s start over. (holding out front hoof to shake) I’m Pinkie Pie. Nice to meet you. (Cut to Mudbriar.)
Mudbriar: Technically, we’ve already met. (Pan to Maud on the next line.)
Maud: (to him) You should introduce Pinkie to your pet.
(Her beau proceeds to fish a small twig from a hidden pocket and offer it to Pinkie for inspection.)
Pinkie: Oh! Your pet likes fetch!
Mudbriar: This is my pet, so no.
(It is set on the grass, Maud placing her pet rock Boulder with it, and both “owners” smile.)
Maud: Aw, look at Twiggy and Boulder playing together.
Mudbriar: They’re adorable.
(Pinkie drops into a crouch so she can train the full power of two skeptical blue eyes on them from inches away; once done, she stands up.)
Pinkie: (to Maud, whispering) It’s just a stick!
Maud: Don’t be rude.
Pinkie: (aloud, sighing) I’m sorry, I’m sorry! (smiling) One more time. I’m Pinkie Pie. (through gritted teeth, offering hoof to shake) Nice to meet you.
Mudbriar: Technically, we’ve already met.
(A supremely fed-up growl and huff escape her lips as she claps a hoof to her forehead and pulls it down her face. Dissolve to a long shot of the Castle and School of Friendship, zooming in slowly; the sky shows off the muted violets and pink-oranges of approaching dusk. Inside, Pinkie steams in Starlight’s room, finally voicing a yell and clapping hooves to temples.)
Pinkie: I don’t get this guy! (She begins to pace; exposing Starlight seated on her bed just behind.)
Starlight: Wow. Maud has a boyfriend?
(The seething pink pony flops back first to the floor and lets off a long, loud groan.)
Pinkie: How could she like someone so weird? (She pushes herself across with her hind legs.) He has an inanimate object for a pet!
Starlight: So does Maud.
Pinkie: Boulder has ten times the personality of some random stick! (under her breath) Mudbriar too, for that matter. (aloud) He’s not like Maud at all! (standing, pacing) Maud is hilarious, friendly, caring, and easy to talk to!
Starlight: (humoring her) Yep, that’s Maud.
Pinkie: But this guy is awkward, quiet, and kind of… (A moment’s strained thought.) …strange! (Starlight crosses to her.)
Starlight: Uh, that also sounds like Maud. (Close-up of Pinkie.)
Pinkie: (laughing) You’re so funny, Starlight! Maud is nothing like Mudbriar. If she were, then we wouldn’t be Best Sister Friends Forever! (Pan to Starlight.)
Starlight: Well, Maud obviously likes something about him.
(To which the party expert respond with an indignant grumble, turning away and crossing her forelegs.)
Starlight: Maybe you just need to spend more time with him—find out what you have in common. (Pinkie turns back to her.)
Pinkie: That’s easy! Nothing! (She resumes her pacing.)
Starlight: You both care about Maud. (smiling) I know! He could help you with her party!
Pinkie: (reluctantly) I guess.
Starlight: And I’ll keep Maud busy while you and Mudbriar plan the best surprise birthday ever. (Pinkie pivots to her with a smile.)
Pinkie: That, I can do!
(Dissolve to the exterior of Sugarcube Corner, seen from down the block during the following day, and zoom in slowly. Inside, Pinkie leads Mudbriar across her bedroom to the base of the stairs that lead up to its balcony.)
Pinkie: Listen. Maud’s birthday is tomorrow and there’s no time to waste. You’re not afraid of slides, are you?
Mudbriar: No. WhyyyyYYYY—
(His abrupt change in tone is caused by falling through the trapdoor that has just opened under his hooves, triggered by Pinkie pressing on the stairs’ ice-cream-cone newel post. She grins at the sound of his fading yell and the camera-shaking crash that issues from far below the floor—he has just landed in her party-planning cave.)
Pinkie: No reason. (jumping in after him) Wheeeeee!
(Cut to the pedantic stallion, lying on his belly at the base of the slide that leads down to this area. Stars whirl above his head for a moment before he recovers his senses and stands upright, only for Pinkie to barrel down the chute with enough speed to plow him out of view. The camera shudders to the tune of a second o.s. crash; cut an extreme close-up of his woozy face on the floor, his brown mane covered by a shock of magenta strands. When he gets up this time, he finds that Pinkie is lying face-up on his back, tail covering his mane and head on his rump.)
Pinkie: Welcome to my party-planning cave! (She hops off.)
Mudbriar: (pacing, eyeing ceiling) Technically, due to the speleothems growing from the ceiling, this is more of a cavern than a cave. Maud taught me that.
Pinkie: (dryly, opening a file cabinet drawer) Yeah, okay.
(After a deep dive among the contents, she extracts and opens a particular folder.)
Pinkie: Here’s what I’m thinking for her surprise party. (showing off items as she names them) Edible rock candy plates, gem-shaped ice cubes, a pebble piñata…
(Cut to Mudbriar as this last is exhibited, surprise registering on his face, then back to her as she remembers his poor reaction to the one she brought out earlier.)
Pinkie: (tossing it over shoulder) Uh…oh, skip that one. (She reads the folder’s contents as he leans in close.)
Mudbriar: Might I make some suggestions?
Pinkie: (smiling weakly) Oh! Suggest away! (Lower the folder.) That’s why you’re here. You and me, planning together! (rubbing hooves against each other) Friends!
Mudbriar: I have a vision board of everything Maud loves, and none of those things are on it.
Pinkie: (skeptically) Hmph. Let me see this vision board.
Mudbriar: It’s not a physical thing. (hoof to temple, eyes closing) I’m envisioning it.
(A wave of that same foreleg summons up row on row of small translucent windows that begin to orbit him, presenting various aspects of rocks/gems/crystals.)
Mudbriar: (quiet monotone) Mmm—I enter through the large door of my mind palace and enter to the back, where I have all of my books and possessions, and what do I encounter? (The motion freezes.) The Maud Room. None of those things are there.
(A gesture sets the windows whirling in the opposite direction and banishes them, and he opens his eyes.)
Mudbriar: (aloud) Just as I thought. Maud doesn’t like surprises.
(He holds his emotionless pose as Pinkie stalks across to stare intently across his back, from first one side and then the other.)
Pinkie: Where does it say that? (She ducks out of sight and comes up to one side.) She never told me that! (Pace away.)
Mudbriar: Mmm… (Cut to her; he continues o.s.) …it sounds like she was protecting your feelings. (This gives her pause; back to him.) She’s very caring that way. (She leans hard into his face, up on her hind legs.)
Pinkie: (poking him in the chest) Stop acting like you know my sister better than me! (Back to all fours.)
Mudbriar: Technically, I never said that.
(The pink face contorts into an almighty grimace before its wearer summons up more words.)
Pinkie: Well, technically, I don’t care! (crossing to slide) And since I’ve been Best Sister Friends Forever with Maud my entire life, I think I’m the expert here! (Return to Mudbriar.) Oh, but fine. If you don’t believe me, let’s ask her! (whispering, foreleg across his shoulders) But we have to be super-sneaky!
Mudbriar: Can you be more specific?
Pinkie: NO!!
(The view dissolves from his impassive expression and her supremely hacked-off one to a long overhead shot of Maud and Starlight standing side by side on a grassy hilltop. The camera points at them from between the kites they are flying; Maud has her spool of twine pinned under a hoof, while Starlight’s is held in her field. Here come Pinkie and Mudbriar; cut to the two pairs at ground level.)
Starlight: Huh. You must be Mudbriar. (Grin; long pause.) I’m Starlight Glimmer. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard great things. (Cut to Pinkie and Mudbriar; she continues o.s.) I’m so glad the two of you are spending time together.
(Pinkie voices an irritated little huff under the end of this; back to the unicorn, whose grin has become more than a bit strained.)
Starlight: So, how’s it going?
Pinkie: (smiling) Mudbriar and I have just spent the best time bonding! (foreleg across his shoulders) And we’re really starting to make some headway becoming besties— (crossing to Maud, tapping her chest) —except for one teensy-weensy disagreement that maybe you could settle, Maud. See, Mudbriar here seems to think that… (laughing) …you don’t like surprise parties. (wheeling to him) Isn’t it funny how wrong he is?!?
Maud: I like surprise parties. (Pinkie rises to her hind legs and throws a foreleg over Mudbriar’s shoulders again.)
Pinkie: (smugly) Hmmm!
Maud: Because I know they make you happy when you throw them for me.
Pinkie: (to Mudbriar) See? (The message sinks in.) Wait, what?!
Maud: I’d rather just do something small with you, Starlight, Boulder, and Mudbriar for my birthday.
(During this line, both sisters drop to their haunches and she pulls Boulder out of her dress, using it instead of her hoof to weight down her spool as she stands again.)
Pinkie: (pulling at cheeks) No party? No party?!? (standing, pointing at Mudbriar) Did he put you up to this?
Maud: (shaking head) Mmm-mmm. (Pinkie stands and leans in close.)
Pinkie: (whispering) Maybe you should consider…I don’t know…taking things a little less serious with Mudbriar because he’s kinda-sorta… (full volume, jumping up) …IMPOSSIBLE TO LIKE!!
(Once she calms and touches down, Starlight adopts a cheerful demeanor and crosses to Starlight.)
Starlight: (chuckling) Hey, Mudbriar, have you ever flown a kite? Let me tell you all about it. See, the first thing you should do is—
Pinkie: (to Maud) I just can’t believe you would choose sitting around with him over a party with your own sister!
Maud: I didn’t choose either of you. Technically, I said I wanted to be with both of you.
Pinkie: (gasping deeply) “Technically”?!? Ugh! You even like the way he talks?!
Maud: (smiling) Everything about him makes me happy.
(After a second colossal gasp, the blue eyes fill with tears.)
Pinkie: (voice breaking) Then I guess you don’t need a Best Sister Friend Forever anymore. (She trudges away.)
Maud: (reaching after her) Pinkie…
Starlight: (thinking fast, crossing to Pinkie) Uh, wait! Let’s all slow down and talk about this.
Pinkie: No!
(And with that, she is off like a sobbing pink missile across the meadowlands.)
Mudbriar: (waving, calling after her) See you later!
(Dissolve to another stretch of the dirt paths that run through these tracts as Pinkie slows to a walk and steps onto a bridge that spans the stream bordering Ponyville.)
Pinkie: I don’t understand. (Stop midway across.) How could Maud like Mudbriar? (Flop to haunches.) Is it Opposite Day? (crying harder) Nothing makes sense!
(Ghostly, translucent caricatures of her friends’ faces tumble into view, one at a time in turn, drifting past as they speak with reverberating voices.)
Fluttershy: I’m not shy, and I hate animals.
Rarity: (taken aback) Fashion? Not for me, darling.
Applejack: (retching) An apple a day is downright disgustin’!
Rainbow Dash: Slow and steady wins the race.
Twilight Sparkle: I never learned to read!
(Her image sports a small crown. Now Pinkie stuffs hooves in ears as all five effigies orbit her head amid a chorus of mocking laughter. Her tears have stopped by this point.)
Pinkie: What if I don’t like cupcakes?!?
(She peels out through Ponyville proper, a shrill scream hanging over a trail of dust clouds to mark her unhinged exit. Fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of the Pie family homestead and the surrounding fields of rocks. The rise of the morning sun is marked by a rooster’s crowing as the camera zooms in slowly and cuts to an extreme close-up of Pinkie asleep in one of the farmhouse’s beds. She awakens with a bright grin almost as soon as the light hits her face; cut to a shot of the entire room as she sits up.)
Pinkie: Good morning! (Pause; her mood deflates.) Oh, wait. Bad morning.
(She covers her face with a pillow and flops back onto the mattress, voicing her dejection in a long moan. The door creaks open and her sister Limestone peeks in, trademark scowl firmly in place.)
Limestone: Get out of bed, sis. (Cut to Pinkie; she continues o.s.) If you’re gonna be here, you gotta work.
(After a peek out from under the pillow’s edge, the house guest moans softly and tosses it aside. Once Limestone has exited, the view wipes to her in one of the fields, chipping at a rock with a pickaxe held in her teeth. The sky has blued into morning, and sisters Pinkie and Marble approach the working mare from the direction of the farmhouse.)
Pinkie: You’re probably wondering why I came back to the family farm in the middle of the night.
Marble: Mmm-hmm.
Pinkie: Well, it all started when— (Limestone drops her pick.)
Limestone: Less talking, more farming!
(The middle sister of the three voices a dejected little groan, while her younger twin glares daggers at the oldest.)
Pinkie: It’s just…Maud has a boyfriend. (Limestone’s eyes pops.)
Limestone: (hastily) I’m not jealous. Who said anything about jealous?
Pinkie: Don’t be. He’s super-duper-weird! (crossing to Limestone) And somehow he tricked Maud into liking him, and now I’ll never get to see her again!
(She plops onto her haunches, out of breath after this miniature rant, as Marble joins them.)
Pinkie: I came home because you two know her better than anypony. What am I missing? What does she see in him? (pulling them closer, voice breaking) What does he have that I don’t?
(And now she loses it altogether, crying twin gushers of tears that give her sisters’ heads a thorough soaking.)
Limestone: Buck up, Pinkie Pie. You look as miserable as I feel all the time.
(The waterworks stop, and Pinkie sniffles piteously and pitches onto her face in the puddle her hysterics have left in the dirt.)
Pinkie: It’s just that I love Maud and I want to love Mudbriar, but… (covering eyes) …I can’t see anything to like about him.
(Over her prone form, Marble glances across to Limestone and tosses her head meaningfully to one side.)
Limestone: Ugh, fine. (walking past her) We’re taking a work break. Come on!
(Pinkie looks up with no small degree of confusion. Dissolve to a smallish stone resting before Marble’s hooves, atop a cluster of others half-embedded in the soil—no particular distinguishing features to any of them. Zoom out; she has pickaxe in mouth as Pinkie and Limestone approach.)
Limestone: (glancing at stone) I’m looking at a sparkling, bright blue-and-white rock. See it?
Pinkie: (puzzled, pointing to it) You mean that lumpy gray one?
Limestone: No! The beautiful blue-and-white one— (Close-up of it; she points and continues o.s.) —right there. (Pinkie leans down to examine it very closely.)
Pinkie: (gesturing to it) I would not describe that as beautiful blue or white, but… (Weak, humoring chuckle and shrug.) …okay.
Limestone: (to Marble) Show her.
(Smiling around her pick handle, the gray mare strikes one blow to crack the mass in two. In close-up, the halves split apart reveal an interior filled with glittering blue crystals around the edges and white ones at the core. Pinkie stares wonderingly at the shiny facets.)
Limestone: (from o.s.) It’s a geode. (She picks up one half; cut to her.) The outside looks like a regular rock, but the inside is filled with beautiful gems.
(Pinkie sits on her haunches and puts a hoof to her chin contemplatively; Marble has disposed of her pick.)
Pinkie: So you’re saying— (whacking one front hoof against other foreleg) —I should crack open Mudbriar like a rock! (rearing up gleefully) It all makes sense! (Pause.) No, wait. It doesn’t.
Limestone: It’s a metaphor, Pinkie! (holding up a rock in one hoof, half the geode in another) You see Mudbriar as a rock, but Maud sees him as a gem. Even if you never see past his dullness, you can see how happy he makes Maud. And to a sister, that’s all that matters. (She and Marble smile at one another.)
Marble: (nodding) Mmm-hmm.
(Now it is Pinkie’s turn to pick up and regard the two items discarded by Limestone. After glancing from one to another, she lets a big, wobbly, watery-eyed smile steal across her face and sets them aside.)
Pinkie: Oh, Limestone, Marble! Thank you! (wiping eyes) I don’t know what I’d do without you two. (hurling herself bodily at them) PIE PILE!!
(All three hit the hardpan in a billow of dust.)
Maud: Okay, okay. You’re crushing me to gravel, Pinkie.
Pinkie: I really owe Mudbriar an apology. (She stands up with a gasp.) And I owe Maud a party! (Another, softer gasp.) I just hope I’m not too late!
(Dissolve to the Ponyville town square, in which a couple of tables have been set up near the town hall, and zoom in slowly. Mudbriar stands at one of them, trying and failing to wrap a thick, short log as a present. With one end of the ribbon in his teeth and the other pinned beneath the chunk of wood, he glares at the paper as it comes undone once, twice. The third time, a pink hoof lances into view to hold the paper in place; Mudbriar is so surprised by Pinkie’s sudden return that he lets the ribbon fall free so she can deftly tie it into a bow. With the job done, she pulls a small, leafy twig from her mane and offers it to him.)
Pinkie: I brought you an olive branch to say “sorry.” I was really unfair to you, and I’m ready to listen to your ideas for Maud’s birthday—if you still want to plan it together. (He peers closely at the bit of foliage.)
Mudbriar: Technically, this isn’t even an olive branch. (He takes it.) It’s a Quercus, most likely Castaneifolia.
Pinkie: (supremely irate) OH, COME ON!! (calming down, smiling, hushed) Sorry. Keeping it together.
Mudbriar: (smiling) And I love a good Quercus. (Her smile becomes genuine as he offers a hoof.) Friends?
Pinkie: (shaking it) Friends. Now, do you have any ideas for the party?
Mudbriar: There is one.
(Dissolve to the town square at sunset. The tables have multiplied and been set with cloths and treats, pennants and rock-themed banners/balloons are strung up all heights, and the area is packed with revelers in party hats. The tables are set with boulder centerpieces and one or two stone sculptures of rearing mares. Spike snags a muffin from one and eats it before turning his attention to the town hall’s closed doors with the rest of the crowd. As soon as they swing open, the camera cuts to a close-up and a cardboard panel marked with a crude picture of a smiling Maud floats out under a rain of confetti.)
Crowd: (from o.s.) SURPRISE!!
(It moves ahead, followed by its manipulator—Starlight, who sends it out far enough for Twilight to take it over in her field and pivot it for Spike to show off to the others. Descending the steps, the pinkish-violet unicorn grins toward her fellow conspirators and then directs a wave off into the distance. Cut to a long overhead shot of the town square and pan/zoom out to frame a ridge overlooking the town. Pinkie, Maud, and Mudbriar are seated at the edge and watching the festivities; cut to them as both sisters return the wave. Maud’s mouth has curved up into a small smile, and Mudbriar sits between her and Pinkie.)
Maud: This is my favorite party ever.
Pinkie: It was all your amazing boyfriend’s idea. (Cut to the other two; she continues o.s.) He said the best present would be me throwing you a surprise party you didn’t have to go to.
Mudbriar: Technically, it wasn’t a surprise because she could see the pre-party preparations from up here.
(Back to all three on the end of this. The grit of Pinkie’s teeth betrays a monumental inner struggle to keep herself under control.)
Pinkie: Technically… (relaxing, smiling) …you’re right.
(She wraps the couple up in a hug and voices a contented little squeal. “Iris out” to black, centered on them.)
FAKE IT ’TIL YOU MAKE IT
Written by Josh Hamilton
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a couple of birds winging lazily through a placid daytime sky. Pan/tilt down to follow them to the edge of Sweet Feather Sanctuary, the animal refuge set up by Fluttershy in “Fluttershy Leans In.” She and quite a few of the residents have sat to enjoy a picnic on the grass, and she is only too happy to offer a hoof-load of seed for the birds to munch on. A few waterfowl at the edge of the facility’s stream eagerly go after the bread crumbs tossed to them; Fluttershy’s rabbit Angel hops into view, carrying a small bowl. His mild confusion at its emptiness turns into a sour look aimed back at his owner, and in very short order the piece of crockery is thrown to land upside down on her head. Carrying a pile of lettuce leaves and chopped vegetables, she glances down at him; cut to a close-up of the white fuzzball, growling softly and hind foot tapping impatiently.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Don’t worry, Angel. (sliding bowl to him, now full) I won’t forget you.
(Instantly mollified, he begins to chomp into the contents. She sighs contentedly.)
Fluttershy: There’s nothing so peaceful as a cuddly-friends picnic.
Rarity: (from o.s., in the near distance) FLUTTERSHY!!
(Peace, quiet, tranquility—all these go out the window in a tick. Those cuddly friends bug out of the joint, leaving only Fluttershy and Angel; pan quickly to the panicked white unicorn as she gallops out of the brush.)
Fluttershy: (standing) Oh, goodness, Rarity! What’s the matter? (Rarity skids to a stop.)
Rarity: (out of breath) A better question would be “What isn’t the matter?”
Fluttershy: Oh, dear! Do you want to have some lettuce and talk about it?
(Pan from her to Angel, who defiantly stuffs his cheeks full as if to say, “Get your own salad, sister!”)
Rarity: Uh…oh! I would love to, darling, but I just don’t have the time. The Canterlot Royal Fashion Show is practically upon us! And the cornerstone piece of my collection… (overwrought, dropping to haunches) …just isn’t working!
Fluttershy: That sounds serious. (Rarity stands up.)
Rarity: (half-sobbing) Oh, it’s serious. The entire collection is designed around it!
Fluttershy: Do you need help knitting? I’ve started making tea cozies.
(On the end of this line, she holds up a teapot draped in a knitted cover that is a most unappealing shade of gray. A couple of mismatched bits of fabric are stitched in as patches, one of two button eyes hangs off the side by a thread, and a piece dangles limply under the pot’s handle. The overall effect is to make Rarity cringe in muted horror.)
Fluttershy: It’s an elephant.
(The stitches on the piece covering the spout—intended as the trunk—give way to leave it within an ace of falling free altogether.)
Rarity: (pushing it back) Yes, well, I don’t need help making clothes. Sassy Saddles is pitching in, plus I’ll be pulling all three of my Manehattan assistants.
Fluttershy: All three? Does that mean you’ll have to close Rarity for You?
Rarity: That’s just it, darling. This is Manehattan’s busiest shopping season, and I can’t just close the shop. (smiling sweetly) So I was hoping…you might consider running it?
Fluttershy: Of course! I’m happy to help, though I’m surprised you picked me.
Rarity: (nervously) Well, I may have asked a few others.
(Blue eyes cut away from blue-green just before the view wipes to her standing on a running track to address a hovering Rainbow Dash and Spitfire. Both pegasi are in their Wonderbolt flight suits, and Spitfire carries a megaphone.)
Rainbow: Sorry, but…we’ve got a Wonderbolt show coming up.
(They zoom away as Rarity hangs her head in defeat; cut to her facing Pinkie Pie across a display case in Sugarcube Corner. Boxes tied with twine rest on the countertop and the floor near its end.)
Pinkie: Sorry, but it’s pie season and the pie orders are piling up.
(She gestures across the shop floor on the end of this, the camera zooming out to frame two ceiling-high masses of boxes in the fore. Rarity again slumps on her hooves; cut to her and Twilight Sparkle in the latter’s office at the School of Friendship. The Princess sits behind her desk, which is stacked with books and documents.)
Twilight: (magically shifting/signing pages) Sorry, I’ve got a curriculum to make up.
(The grounds of Sweet Apple Acres; Rarity walks alongside Applejack, who pulls a wagonload of apples.)
Applejack: Nope.
(Starlight Glimmer shakes her head in a School hallway, and Big Macintosh does the same in the barnyard.)
Macintosh: Nope.
(Cheerilee follows suit inside the Ponyville schoolhouse; then Granny Smith in her kitchen; then DJ P0N-3 at her turntables, adding a record scratch for emphasis; then the Cutie Mark Crusaders in their clubhouse. Finally Rarity ends up lying on her belly and aiming a beseeching gaze up at Maud Pie in the latter’s underground living area. A calendar hangs on a vertical stone face behind them, every one of its days crossed off.)
Maud: My calendar’s packed, but I hear Fluttershy’s free.
(Close-up of Rarity as Maud’s pet rock Boulder is held into view toward her.)
Maud: (from o.s.) And you haven’t asked Boulder.
Rarity: (really puzzled) Uh…ohhh?
(Wipe to her and Fluttershy in the here and now.)
Rarity: (laughing airily) It doesn’t matter who else I asked— (pulling Fluttershy close) —because I couldn’t be happier that you agreed to help.
(Both mares beam with cheeks nuzzled together as the view zooms in and snaps to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to the interior of Rarity for You in Manehattan’s Saddle Row fashion district. The camera points at the front door, which opens to admit the proprietor and her newly recruited assistant. A sudden bout of fright stops Fluttershy cold after no more than a step or two.)
Fluttershy: I think I forgot how big this shop was. (Her perspective, panning slowly across the varied displays.) How do you find anything? (Back to them.)
Rarity: Oh, darling, it’s easy to track. The store is divided into sections.
(Her perspective, panning quickly from one area to another as she points them out.)
Rarity: Chic…classic…modern… (Back to them.) …sophisticated…avant-garde…traditional…and obtuse.
(This explanation does absolutely nothing to quell Fluttershy’s unease, and she hurries to keep up with Rarity’s move toward a particular rack.)
Rarity: (sliding loaded hangers) And, of course, each section is divided by season, color, and price. It’s a classic SCP system.
(Floating out a long-sleeved top with its hanger, she trots briskly to the sales counter with Fluttershy in tow.)
Rarity: Then it’s just a little ringing ponies up…
(A few taps at the cash register keys, and a receipt pops out the top. Close-up of the item now lying on the counter and wreathed in her field; the hanger has been removed.)
Rarity: (from o.s., folding sleeves in) …a little fluff and fold…
(Back to her; it goes into a sack whose handles are swiftly secured with a ribbon tied in a bow. The sack bears a curling purple mark that resembles a capital R without is vertical stroke.)
Rarity: …voilà! But of course that’s the easy part.
Fluttershy: (gasping) It is?
Rarity: Mmm-hmm. As you well know, the real focus at Rarity for You is on the customer.
(She ends this line with a singsong inflection as the sound of the opening/closing front door makes itself heard. Coming into the shop is a yellowish-tan earth pony mare whose impatient eyes are visible through the lenses of her sunglasses; she flicks her mane back in like manner.)
Rarity: (to Fluttershy) Care to give it a try?
Fluttershy: (very tentatively) Um…okay.
(She backs away as if the floor were covered with eggshells rigged to a thousand pounds of dynamite, then crosses the floor to the new arrival.)
Fluttershy: Hello. Um…welcome to Rarity for You. What can I help you with?
(The shades are removed for just a moment so their wearer can train the full power of her glare on Fluttershy.)
Sunglasses: I need something classic but modern, something with drama but also understated.
Fluttershy: Um, aren’t all those things opposites?
Sunglasses: (even more irritated) Yes! So…? (Cut to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: But…how can I—
Sunglasses: (from o.s.) I’m sorry. (Both again; she adjusts her eyewear.) Are you asking me how to do your job?
Fluttershy: (on edge of panic) No! But I just, um— (Rarity crosses to them.)
Rarity: (pushing Fluttershy aside) If I may, I’m thinking noir-esque minimalist, but with a twist.
(A flare of power from her horn brings over a dark gray dress with pale violet skirt/sleeves/trim and a fishnet collar.)
Rarity: Perhaps a tapered hem.
(The camera cuts from the customer’s narrowing eyes to Rarity’s, then back as she voices a happy little gasp.)
Sunglasses: It’s like you read my mind! Are you a fashion psychic? (Loud, stupid giggle.)
Rarity: (pressing a sleeve to her forehead) Hmm…the inseams say yes.
(Both laugh in this same fashion as they move to the counter. The sale is rung up, the dress bagged and bowed, and Fluttershy can only stare in utter confusion as it leaves the store held in its new owner’s teeth.)
Fluttershy: Wow. (Sound of door opening/closing; Rarity approaches.) You make it look so easy.
Rarity: Oh, darling, come now. (touching Fluttershy’s chest, laughing softly) You’ve conquered your shyness a thousand times over. You can’t let a few fashion ponies undo all that progress.
Fluttershy: (smiling) I guess not.
Rarity: You simply must access your inner strength and allow it to shine through!
Fluttershy: How?
Rarity: Uh…daily affirmations? Meditation? Ooh! Power posing works wonders whenever I feel intimidated. Try these.
(She rises to her hind legs, placing front hooves on flanks in the manner of a person with hands on hips, and adopts a take-charge expression.)
Rarity: Confident warrior! (A slightly different stance, straightening up with forelegs spread wide.) Gold medalist! (One foreleg out, other on “hip.”) Show pony!
(Across the way, Fluttershy tries to emulate these poses, only to end up spinning in a circle until she is wrapped up in her own mane/tail. Only her wings are left free, but her strongest flapping fails to keep her from crashing to the floor on her belly. She offers up a weak grin.)
Rarity: (worried) Mmm. Or not.
(Comes now a rustle from the curtained doorway leading farther into the shop; she pivots in time to see her three-mare team of assistants emerge—hired by Rainbow in “The Saddle Row Review.” Blue Bobbin, the blue earth pony, addresses Rarity as the other two carry pieces of luggage in teeth or field, several emblazoned with the stylized-R mark from the shop’s sacks.)
Blue: We need to leave now if we’re going to catch the train to Canterlot. (Rarity levitates a pocket watch and checks it, surprised at what she sees.)
Rarity: Oh, goodness, look at the time! (putting it away) Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, go! (Blue gets the handles of several bags in her jaws.) Go! I’m right behind you!
(All three employees gallop for the front door as she heads in a different direction to retrieve her own gear, Fluttershy peeking cautiously after her from behind a display stand.)
Fluttershy: You’re not gonna be here, in your workroom?
Rarity: But, darling, I simply can’t. The fashion show is in Canterlot tomorrow, and I’ll be up all night even with the help of all of my assistants. (Fluttershy swallows hard; Rarity smiles knowingly.) Well, not all my assistants.
(Pan from her to the curtains, through which three raccoons emerge—two full-grown and their blue-eyed child.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s., overjoyed) Smoky! Soft Pad! (Cut to her.) Smoky Junior!
(Recall that these three had taken up residence in the shop when Rarity and company first checked it out in “The Saddle Row Review.” Dropping to her haunches, she coos over them as they leap into her forelegs for a group hug. Smoky is the adult without whiskers, Soft Pad is the one with them, and Smoky Junior is the young one.)
Rarity: (floating thread spools into one bag, closing it) Ever since you convinced me to let them live in the shop, these beastie sweeties have been nothing but helpful.
Fluttershy: And I’m sure they’ll help me let my inner strength shine through! (They chitter agreement.)
Rarity: (moving other items) Oh, I wish I could stay and offer more help. (Gasp; an idea hits.) Why not try…a new outfit?
(She starts to walk, carrying a suit in her aura as Fluttershy walks alongside without the raccoons. It is a study in shades of light and medium blue-gray, with a short-sleeved jacket over a plain blouse and a pair of full-length pants held up by a broad belt. Holes have been cut into the jacket to accommodate wings. They stop before a mirror, Rarity shifting the hanger so the garments hang in place to cover the relevant portions of Fluttershy’s image; cut to their reflections in the glass.)
Rarity: Think of it as a costume for your role as “Shop Pony.” (Laugh.) You know what they say—clothes make the pony. (She shifts it and herself away; back to them.)
Fluttershy: Um, who says that?
Rarity: You know—them.
(The suit is hung up on an empty wheeled rack and exchanged for all of her personal luggage.)
Rarity: All right. I’m sure you and your furry friends will do just fine. Ta-ta! (Out she goes.)
Fluttershy: (sighing, to raccoons) I hope she’s right.
(The sound of the door’s closing has barely reached them before it opens again, the camera zooming out at ground level as a foreleg clad in a dress shirt and blazer sleeve plants itself in the fore. A head-on shot frames the pony attached to it as a well-dressed tan unicorn stallion whose critical eyes gaze out through small wire-framed eyeglasses. As he takes measured steps into the shop, Fluttershy lets out a lungful of air.)
Fluttershy: Here goes nothing.
(She sets off toward him, cheered on by the raccoons, and addresses Blazer as he inspects the sleeve of a jacket on display.)
Fluttershy: Welcome to Rarity for You. What can I help you with?
Blazer: What’s the thread count of this shirt? I can’t be seen in anything less than a thousand.
Fluttershy: (baffled) Um…thread…count? Um…oh, I’m not sure. (holding up a magnifying glass to one eye) Let’s see. Um…one, two, three, four—
(A bit of raccoon talk distracts her from getting any farther into her on-the-spot count. Cut to the family, variously giving her a paw-across-throat “cut it” signal and reacting with levels of shock that dangerously approach total mental shutdown, then back to the two ponies. Fluttershy, now smiling shakily, has put away the lens.)
Fluttershy: Um, excuse me for just one second.
(Her composure lasts exactly long as it takes for her to pivot 180 degree and start galloping. She is on the verge of hyperventilation even before she reaches the curtained doorway; cut to its other side, in the workroom, as she slams on the brakes and Soft Pad and Smoky Junior come in after her. Racks of outfits and tubs filled with bolts of fabric line the walls, and a pony mannequin stands at the ready.)
Fluttershy: Oh, I’m afraid I don’t know enough about fashion to satisfy these customers! What am I gonna do?
(Here comes Smoky, hauling the rack with the blue-gray suit so all three raccoons can point it out in a most helpful manner.)
Fluttershy: Oh, I’ve never tried to act before, but… (smiling) …I suppose it’s worth a shot.
(Dissolve to an extreme close-up of her face reflected in a mirror and zoom out. She is now wearing the suit and has re-styled her mane/tail into buns, with a bit of shadow on her eyes. A nudge at the former, an experimental flap to make sure the jacket’s wing holes are good to go, and she clears her throat and tries out a refined speech pattern not unlike Rarity’s, but with a small degree of haughtiness mixed in.)
Fluttershy: Severe, but not unapproachable. Acceptable business attire. (own voice) Oh, does that sound like a shop pony to you?
(Getting a round of enthusiastic applause from the raccoons, she lifts her head and adopts a confident smile. Wipe to the showroom as she strides back to Blazer, resuming her upper-class delivery.)
Fluttershy: So sorry for the wait. The shop has some staffing issues today.
Blazer: (lifting display jacket sleeve) Yes, well, I still haven’t had an answer on this thread count! (She takes a quick look.)
Fluttershy: Here at Rarity for You, our merchandise defies typical attempts to quantify its quality, but rest assured it will make you the envy of all who see it.
(She fixes him with an icy stare, prompting him to laugh and drop the sleeve.)
Blazer: (floating up a sack bulging with coins) In that case, I’ll take three!
(The cash register sings its song, the yellow hooves tie a ribbon onto the handles of one sack, and his aura floats it away along with two more just like it. At the door, he smiles back over his shoulder at Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: Ta-ta!
(The smile becomes a grin a she exits, not seeing the beads of sweat that slide down her face or the sudden, mighty struggle to keep herself under control. Only after the door has swung and clicked shut does she allow herself a sigh from the hooves up and keel over onto her back. She hyperventilates as the raccoons hurry to her side.)
Fluttershy: (shakily, own voice) Ohhhh, Smoky Junior! (sitting up) I can’t believe it worked!
(Standing up to all fours, she checks herself out in a mirror and brushes a bit of dust from a sleeve.)
Fluttershy: (refined voice) I suppose clothes really do make the pony after all.
(Pan from her to the three animal helpers, who smile at each other over her success in closing the deal, and snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of Rarity for You. A hanging sign has been added above the front door, displaying the stylized-R mark seen earlier against a sprinkling of purple diamonds. Rarity and her floating luggage approach from one end of the block, a pair of stuck-up earth pony mares from the other; one of these two, pinkish-violet, addresses her gray companion.)
Passerby 1: I don’t know about you, but I have a full day of shopping planned. And if even one shop pony isn’t up to my standards, well, I shall make my displeasure quite plain. (Rarity stops, having heard them in passing.)
Passerby 2: Oh, you are wicked! (Laugh.)
Rarity: (to herself) Canterlot fashion show or no, I simply can’t leave Fluttershy to fend for herself with these Manehattanites!
(She doubles back with all speed, knocking the second speaker to the sidewalk and very nearly braining the first with her bags; only a last-second dive saves this one’s skull.)
Blazer: (from o.s.) Rarity?
(Despite her best attempt to stop, momentum carries her past the dapper pony in a screech of hooves against sidewalk. She doubles back as he sets his three bags down.)
Rarity: Oh, darling, I’m afraid I can’t stop. Potential emergency at the boutique.
Blazer: (chuckling) Well, whatever it is, I’m quite certain the pony you left in charge can handle it. Oh, she’s simply divine.
(The parcels rise under his influence and he continues on his way; she lets her gear drop to the sidewalk, relieved.)
Rarity: Oh! Well, I always knew Fluttershy had it in her. (Laugh; float out her pocket watch.) And there’s still time to catch the train to Canterlot.
(Closing and putting it away, she floats the pile up and gallops away with fresh determination. Wipe to the showroom of Rarity for You; behind Fluttershy, a pale gray earth pony mare in a pillbox hat and matching short cape stands before a mirror and holds up a dress to examine it against her form. Fluttershy shoots her a glance; cut to a close-up of the mirror as her reflection crowds in next to Pillbox’s.)
Fluttershy: (refined voice) It’s a unique play on the old standard. We call it a Rarity cut, with a triple-cross-stitch hem and a guacamole chevka-pattern fabric.
(This bit of verbosity leaves the mare visibly put out; cut to both as she turns away from the mirror to face Fluttershy.)
Pillbox: Don’t you mean “chevron”?
Fluttershy: If I had meant “chevron,” then that’s what I would have said.
Pillbox: (laughing) Of course. It’s so unique! So en vogue! (eyes shining) It must be mine!
(The cash register rings up the sale, the dress is packed into a bag, and the grinning customer gets handles in teeth to carry it away. Here come the raccoons to cheer and clap.)
Fluttershy: (own voice) Aw, thanks, everyone. But I feel like I should push the snootiness further. (Nods and encouraging chitters.) If you really want to help, I suppose serving tea would be nice—oh, if you don’t mind.
({Dissolve to an extreme close-up of three empty teacups on a tray held by Soft Pad, who has outfitted herself in a white dress shirt, ascot, and apron and a dark gray vest. The spout of a teapot extends into view to fill one, which is lifted away by another pair of tiny paws, and a longer shot frames all three raccoons. Smoky and Smoky Junior are identically attired except for their neckwear—a black necktie and a dark gray bow tie, respectively. Smoky holds the pot and Smoky Junior carries the cup across the floor as the camera pans away from them and a few hard-eyed clients, one of whom is already sipping from her own tea. Stop on a blue-violet unicorn mare at the counter, her attention focused on a rotating carousel of jewelry that tapers down in diameter from bottom to top like a wedding cake. She sports baubles at all levels from hooves to ears. Fluttershy approaches her.)
Baubles: I like my accessories bold and shiny, and I’m just not seeing anything nearly bold and shiny enough.
Fluttershy: (refined voice) I’m afraid bold and shiny won’t work with your whole…modelle. Perhaps… (Glance briefly at the carousel.) …pointy.
Baubles: (smiling in understanding) Pointy! Yes! I must have pointy!
(Whereupon Fluttershy seizes the entire display and claps it onto the mare’s head as a hat.)
Fluttershy: Not everypony can pull off a found object— (holding up a hand mirror to show reflection) —but you nearly get there.
(The backhanded compliment brings a shiny-eyed grin to the blue-violet face, and in no time the cash register has done its thing. She leaves the store with the jewelry carousel wobbling back and forth on her head. Fluttershy has put away the mirror.)
Valley Girl voice: I need, like…
(Cut to frame this speaker, a pale gray pegasus mare hovering a short distance back; Fluttershy turns to her. Gold chains and bracelets adorn neck and foreleg, respectively.)
Chains: …a red-carpet glitz-and-glamour gown that’s also casual but, like, still artsy and a total head-turner.
Fluttershy: Yes. Casual chic, prêt-à-porter, is very branché this season. (Very long silence.)
Chains: Uhhh…like, I don’t understand any of that, so, like…I don’t care about it.
Fluttershy: (grinning nervously) Um, one moment, please.
(If there were a land speed record for bugging out of a boutique, her exit through the workroom’s curtained doorway would easily break it. Cut to her, sitting on a cushion as a huddled-up bundle of nerves; the raccoons come in after her, clear worry on all three masked faces.)
Fluttershy: (own voice, gasping) I think I need a new character.
(Soft Pad is the first to get a brainstorm; the family ducks out, then back in again to offer up a new combination of clothing items. Deep pink hat with a white band, magenta-framed eyeglasses, gray scarf with white polka dots. Fluttershy gives them an appreciative smile and nod as she climbs off her cushion.)
(Wipe to the showroom, the camera positioned at ground level across from the disaffected Chains. A yellow foreleg clomps down assertively in the fore, covered by the sleeve of a blue-violet sweater. The scarf encircles Fluttershy’s neck, a pair of pink shorts peeks out from the sweater’s hem, and part of her mane has been braided. She carries a dress decorated with a pale pink rose on the bodice and butterflies on the gauzy skirt. She adopts a Valley Girl accent while moving toward the client, the camera shifting to frame her head-on; she wears the hat and glasses as well, with no eyeshadow, and the buns are gone from mane and tail.)
Fluttershy: Okay, I’ve got, like, this high-key savage look for you. It’s a totally live ensemble with the little, like, thingies that sparkle and make the whole squad go, “Whoa, that pony is woke.”
Chains: (smiling/laughing, landing, taking dress) That is, like, exactly what I need.
(Fluttershy tips a wink to the raccoons, who have been watching from the workroom doorway and who give her a soft chirp to boost her spirits. Wipe to her approaching a tall, pale gray earth pony stallion whose demeanor, style of dress, and low monotonic inflection instantly mark him a a goth.)
Goth: This store is a desperate wasteland of nothingness. Do you have anything in black?
(The yellow pegasus finds herself at a complete loss for words for several seconds.)
Fluttershy: Can you, like, chill for one sec? BRB.
(She peels out. Wipe to him still at the racks as she descends into view, having done another quick change. Dark gray suit jacket over a white blouse with a high ruffled collar and a jewel pendant; slightly lighter, full-length gray skirt; shoes on rear hooves that match the jacket; multiply pierced ears; dark gray eyeshadow; mane unbraided and slightly unkempt. A hanger suspended from one front hoof carries a short-sleeved jacket in dark gray, with gold stud/buckle accents. Now Fluttershy adopts a tone similar to his.)
Fluttershy: It’s not like the futility of shopping can be made better with black leather and metal studs— (Zoom in quickly on her.) —but they help.
Goth: Uhhh… (crossing to her) …that jacket completes me.
(He takes it and cuddles it to one cheek. Behind Fluttershy, a pale blue earth pony mare spits a shocked mouthful of tea all over the raccoons and wipes the residue from her lips. She speaks with a British accent.)
Brit: This tea’s, like, lukewarm. It’s barely drinkable.
(Fluttershy, in her refined-shopkeeper outfit and persona, crosses to berate the little servers.)
Fluttershy: This tea must always be at a precise temperature! See that it doesn’t happen again!
(They cower before her as the mare departs; a moment later she has shifted back to “Valley Girl” to address a different browser.)
Fluttershy: Whoa. That color is, like, almost too lit for you.
(Now, her goth self sidles up to a mare checking out an outfit in the mirror.)
Fluttershy: The blackness of this vest is a reflection of your soul.
(Refined Fluttershy accosts a pale yellow, sweater-clad mare who is eyeing one of the mannequins.)
Fluttershy: This hemline is nothing short of an inspiration of crafts-ponyship. Are you sure you deserve it?
(Each of these comments earns her a venomous glare from its recipient. Next, adopting each role in quick succession, she throws a series of disapproving gestures and head shakes; in response, the three mares disgustedly throw aside any garments they have been considering and head for the street. Cut to the raccoons, who stare dumbfounded at this very strange turn of events as the sound of muffled stomping drifts over them. It proves to be from Fluttershy’s hoof on a carpet, intended to summon them to the service of a customer; she underscores the command with a sharp jerk of her head. They hustle frantically over to the pair and slide to a stop, the action shifting to slow motion as inertia causes one of the teacups on Soft Pad’s tray to slide forward and slosh out a dollop. The liquid describes a lazy arc through the air until it splashes against Fluttershy’s upraised hoof; normal speed resumes in time with her shocked gasp and the other mare’s shrill scream of terror.)
Fluttershy: (to raccoons) I don’t know what’s worse—that you’ve spilled the tea, or that it’s still cold! Either get it right, or go back to the forest!
(The trio’s faces shift gears from mute shock to barely contained fury without bothering to go for the clutch. They stomp away, grumbling; there is the crash of breaking crockery as their aprons are flung back into view.)
Fluttershy: Ugh! It is so hard to find good help these days.
(The customer nods gravely. Dissolve to a long shot of the School, zooming in slowly to the sound of the raccoons’ chittering, then cut to them and Spike in Twilight’s office. They have shed the rest of their upscale outfits and are still very much out of sorts.)
Spike: Okay, okay! Slow down, everyone! I-I’m doing my best!
(They fall quiet and begin to tell the tale through the occasional squeak and re-styling of the fur on their heads, with Spike watching and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. First: Soft Pad adopts Rarity’s mane style. Next: Smoky shifts from Fluttershy’s goth persona to her Valley Girl one, the latter accented by glasses and scarf. Third: Smoky Junior takes on the bun in Fluttershy’s mane.)
Spike: So…Rarity is busy at an important fashion show, and Fluttershy is running her shop in Manehattan, but to do it, she’s playing different shop pony characters that are all mean?
(The raccoons cheer with gusto, their fur back to normal, and Twilight addresses the group from behind her desk.)
Twilight: How in the world did you figure that out, Spike?
Spike: (smugly) I’m not Dragon Charades champion for nothing.
Twilight: I can’t imagine Fluttershy would ever be mean to her animal friends. This sounds serious. (pacing, determinedly) Spike, tell everyone it’s time to head back to Saddle Row.
(General relief among the three furry visitors. Dissolve to the showroom, zooming in slowly through the patrons looking over the wares, then cut to a close-up of one—the pale yellow mare who had been considering a mannequin’s outfit. She has changed out of her sweater and donned a dress, and is considering her reflection in a mirror with some satisfaction before Fluttershy steps up in her refined alter ego.)
Fluttershy: (poking her, pulling at dress fabric) I wouldn’t think it was possible to make something so dowdy even more matronly, but— (Scoff.) —here you are.
(Pan quickly to a stallion whose choice of scarf has drawn the scorn of her goth side.)
Fluttershy: It’s like a scream in the void, empty and ultimately meaningless.
(Another quick pan; now behind the counter and in her Valley Girl role, she reads a magazine and barely pays attention to Pillbox.)
Fluttershy: I would seriously help you right now, but, like, I don’t wanna, you know?
(Pan away from this tableau to frame Twilight, Applejack, Pinkie, and Rainbow standing just inside the front door and unable to believe their eyes. The raccoons peek out from behind Twilight’s forelegs to give her an extra earful. Rainbow is no longer wearing her Wonderbolt flight suit as in the prologue.)
Twilight: (to raccoons) You weren’t kidding. This is worse than we thought. She’s being horrible to everypony!
Applejack: Uh, are you sure that’s even Fluttershy?
Pinkie: Maybe it’s just three really, really fast ponies that really, really look like her. (Rainbow, hovering, moves up between these two.)
Rainbow: Well, let’s find out.
(She zooms over to the mirror, where Refined Fluttershy stands with the mare who had been trying on the dress; the latter is now back in her sweater.)
Rainbow: Hey, Fluttershy? Are you running the shop or performing in a one-pony show?
Fluttershy: If you don’t mind, I can only improve the taste of one customer at a time. You’ll have to wait your turn. (to customer) Ugh! Honestly, these small-town ponies come to the big city and think they can behave any way they please.
Rainbow: What?!? (as Fluttershy crosses past her) You are a small-town pony, and your cottage isn’t even in the town!
(By the time the pegasus reaches Applejack, she is in her goth role again.)
Applejack: Look, Fluttershy. We came here because we were worried and we care about you.
Fluttershy: (to scarf-shopping stallion) Let’s get out of this aura of positivity before it consumes us.
(They walk off together, leaving a gobsmacked Applejack in their wake. Now Valley Girl Fluttershy outfits a stallion with a hat matching her own as Pinkie and Spike move in.)
Pinkie: As fun as this Fluttershy switcheroo game is, Smoky, Smoky Junior, and Soft Pad are really concerned.
Spike: Yeah! They came all the way to Ponyville to get us!
(An over-shoulder glance confirms their concern, voiced from their new vantage point in front of Twilight.)
Fluttershy: They should have, like, stayed there. This shop is, like, a no-rodent zone now.
(Gasps of purest disbelief from all eight onlookers.)
Pinkie: She called them rodents?!? (Refined Fluttershy begins folding garments.)
Twilight: (crossing to her) Fluttershy, I understand why you think you have to act this way for these customers. But there’s gotta be a better way!
Fluttershy: (dripping sarcasm) Goodness! You are so right! (ushering her across showroom) Please, step this way so that we may discuss your concerns.
(The sound of the opening front door underscores the end of this line; cut to it. She stands just within, facing her visitors on the sidewalk.)
Twilight: (relieved) I knew you’d come to your senses.
(She gets no further before the haughty stand-in shopkeeper slams the door in their faces.)
Fluttershy: (sourly, turning away) Indeed.
(The ousted octet lift themselves up to gaze worriedly after her through the window set in the door. They trade puzzled looks before the view fades to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a packed auditorium with a curtained stage at one end, from which a spotlighted runway projects into the excitedly murmuring crowd. Zoom in slowly and cut to Rarity backstage, wearing her red-framed reading glasses and a most worried expression; her measuring tape hangs from her shoulders as she levitates several lengths of fabric away from herself. All three assistants from Rarity for You, wearing wireless headset microphones, and Sassy Saddles, carrying a clipboard, gather behind her as she uncorks a heavy sigh.)
Rarity: The centerpiece of my collection, and it’s still not right!
(Longer shot, framing the pincushion strapped to one foreleg. She is addressing a pale yellow earth pony mare decked out in a loose-fitting jumpsuit in two shades of light blue, with an upturned collar, shoulder trim styled as wings, a deep pink belt and thin scarf, and a trailing skirt in pale pink. This last matches the hue of her mane, which is pulled up into a topknot.)
Rarity: Oh, darling, I’m afraid we’ve literally run out of time. (grabbing model, turning/pushing her toward curtain) It’s up to you! Go out there and sell it!
(Cut to just outside the curtain as the bemused mare is bulldozed through.)
Rarity: (from behind, singsong) Now, attitude!
(She lifts her chin, puts on a slightly disdainful smile, and begins to advance down the catwalk amid a sea of cheers and popping flashbulbs. Backstage, the evicted eight from Rarity for You have made their way in and get a smile from the owner when she turns to them in close-up. A dissolve shifts her to a different spot and drains all the good cheer right out of her face.)
Rarity: I don’t understand. When I left Fluttershy, she had everything well in hoof.
Twilight: Well, things might have seemed all right when you left, but they’re definitely not all right now.
Applejack: She’s actin’ worse than the worst Manehattanite I ever saw!
Rainbow: She kicked us out of the shop!
Pinkie: (gathering raccoons together) She called Smoky, Smoky Junior, and Soft Pad rodents!
Rarity: (aghast, sputtering, levitating glasses off) Rodents?! Why didn’t you say that from the start? (On again.) She obviously needs help! Come on!
(She trots away. Wipe to an overhead shot of the showroom, in which Blazer is adjusting his tie in a mirror. She paces around the central display, going from refined to goth in the brief moment it hides her from view, and stops behind the similarly-attired Goth, who is considering a jacket on the racks.)
Fluttershy: Your melancholy is way too shallow for a look with this much unfeeling depth.
Goth: (letting it drop) Huh.
(Letting it drop, he utters an irritated sigh and clomps away. Pan quickly to Chains at another mirror, holding up the dress recommended to her in Act Two. Just as she begins to smile over it, Valley Girl Fluttershy’s foreleg lances into view and yanks it away.)
Fluttershy: Ugh! Your style isn’t even on the same page. Turn away. Don’t even look at it, okay?
Chains: (gasping deeply) I can’t even!
(She storms off. Pan quickly to Blazer, using his magic to slide loaded hangers along a rack until one sportcoat catches his eye. He floats it off for a better look, only for Refined Fluttershy to close in on him.)
Fluttershy: I think not, dear. (poking at it) This is all far too fashion-forward for the likes of you.
Blazer: (affronted, scoffing) Well, I never!
(Plunking the coat back on the rack, he turns tail and strides away. Pan quickly to her five friends, Spike, and the raccoons watching him make his exit. Rarity has shed her working accessories. The squeak of the opening door’s hinges and the subsequent slam prompt a collective wince.)
Applejack: (to Rarity, sighing) Told you it was bad.
Rarity: Bad? This is worse than I could have possibly imagined!
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Rarity… (crossing to her) …I’m so glad you’re here.
(She plants a kiss on each cheek, prompting the white unicorn to recoil a step.)
Fluttershy: Finally, a pony who understands that the couture in this shop is far too brilliant to even consider selling. (She turns away.)
Rarity: (shocked) What? (Valley Girl Fluttershy pops up behind the counter.)
Fluttershy: You, like totally get how lame customers are.
(Scoff; she ducks away and instantly emerges in her goth role.)
Fluttershy: Watching them leave filled me with a sweet sadness.
(Both of Rarity’s eyes twitch uncontrollably as Refined Fluttershy instantly shows up at her side.)
Fluttershy: And you’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve taken care of your rodent situation.
(Disbelieving reactions from the raccoons, followed by Smoky fainting dead away.)
Pinkie: Will somepony tell her to stop saying that?!?
Rarity: (supremely fed up) That’s IT!! Fluttershy, I’m afraid you’ve left me no choice! (jabbing a hoof into her chest) You are terminated!
Fluttershy: (deeply offended, striding past Rarity toward door) Well, good luck replacing me!
(She adds a contemptuous grunt to drive the point home.)
Rarity: (sighing with relief) Well, thankfully I— (She trails off into a shriek of fright as Goth Fluttershy steps up.)
Fluttershy: I always thought she was too controlling.
Rarity: (pointing to door) You—y-you are terminated too!
Fluttershy: (walking past her) Whatever.
Rarity: Now I— (Another shriek as Valley Girl Fluttershy reports in.)
Fluttershy: I know, right? I mean… (She finishes the thought with a couple of puzzled grunts.)
Rarity: Actually, you’re, like, totally terminated as well!
Fluttershy: (downcast, walking out) Like, okay.
Rarity: (sighing, relieved) Well, I’m glad that’s ov—
(For the third time in less than thirty seconds, she lets go with a freaked-out cry, this one caused by pivoting toward the door and finding herself face to face with a very sad, perfectly normal Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: I guess I owe everypony an apology.
Rarity: (irked, sighing) You think?
Fluttershy: I got so caught up trying to please all of your customers that—
Rainbow: What customers?
(Only now does the dismissed shopkeeper look around herself and realize that the other three of her have managed to clear the place out completely.)
Fluttershy: I might have taken my sales-pony characters a little too far.
(Soft Pad has put a breathing mask over the face of the supine Smoky and is manually squeezing and releasing the attached rubber bag to keep air going into his lungs.)
Fluttershy: (to raccoons) I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. You know I was only pretending, right?
(As soon as Smoky comes to, Soft Pad removes the mask and the entire family scurries over to nuzzle Fluttershy’s chin happily.)
Twilight: (as Fluttershy straightens to face her) But, Fluttershy, why did you think you needed to be somepony else to run the shop? (Cut to these two.)
Fluttershy: I guess acting like the ponies of Saddle Row gave me the confidence to interact with them.
Rarity: (crossing to her) Darling, I’d never trust some horrible Saddle Row pony to run my shop. That’s why I wanted a friend to do it.
Fluttershy: (smiling) Well, I’d definitely rather be myself anyway, even if I don’t exactly have what it takes to be a shop pony.
Twilight: I wouldn’t sell yourself short. Those sales-pony characters all came from you.
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Yeah! (Pan to her and the others.) I think you totally have what it takes.
Pinkie: Maybe a little too much.
Rarity: Indeed. (to Fluttershy) You have all the inner strength you need, but I think we’d prefer it coming from our sweet, regular Fluttershy.
(A white hoof gently taps the yellow chest on the end of this, touching off a round of laughter from the rest of the gang. Once it dies away, Rarity’s eyes snap full open as the brain behind them kicks into gear.)
Rarity: And that’s just given me the inspiration I’m looking for!
(Dissolve to an extreme close-up of her, glasses on and measuring tape around shoulders, intently using her magic to stitch a seam on a garment.)
Rarity: (knotting thread) And last one… (Pull; the excess snaps.) …there! (Needle down.) The missing piece for my new collection!
(She backs away, the camera cutting to a longer shot that frames her and Fluttershy before the mirror in the workroom. Rarity’s pincushion is back on her foreleg, and Fluttershy is clad in a newly minted white/gold gown whose bodice is styled to resemble the small overlapping plates of scale armor. The long white skirt has a pale blue hem, a darker blue sash circles low around the rump, and gold shoes cover the front hooves. Part of Fluttershy’s mane has been left in its usual, gently curling fall, while the rest is swept up into a loose roll at the top of her head.)
Rarity: The Warrior of Inner Strength!
(Trotting to the curtains, she pulls them open with her field so Fluttershy can return to the showroom and get a hearty round of cheers and approval—not just from her friends, but also from several of the customers she ran off. The one-time fashion model steps up onto a central display platform and gets a good look at herself in the nearest mirror.)
Fluttershy: Oh, it’s lovely, Rarity! (Rarity crosses to her, work equipment gone.) I’m just sorry you had to leave the Canterlot Royal Fashion Show early.
Rarity: (chuckling softly) Oh, darling. Making the perfect dress is scads more satisfying than showing it off.
(The crowd again voices its high opinion as Fluttershy turns to show this one off from all angles. There is only one holdout, the sweater-clad mare who repeatedly got the short-end of her unorthodox approach to customer service.)
Sweater: (snarky tone) Ooh, striking dress, Rarity. I certainly hope you aren’t trying to undercut the Royal Fashion Show by ducking out and débuting it here.
Rarity: (flustered) What? No, I-I— (A riled-up Fluttershy leans hard into Sweater’s face.)
Fluttershy: Have you considered the possibility that the Royal Fashion Show is trying to undercut Rarity’s by continuing on in Canterlot and not moving the whole affair here? Hmm? Have you? Hmm?
(By the time she finishes, she has moved close enough to mash her nose against that of the naysayer.)
Sweater: (small voice) I, uh…no. (Fluttershy backs off and hops down from the platform.)
Fluttershy: Hmph! (walking off; a worried Rarity follows) Just as I thought.
(She voices a smug little giggle; once the two are out of earshot, they stop.)
Fluttershy: Oh! (A genuine, demure giggle and wink.) Inner strength.
(Rarity figures out the act she has put on, and the two share a hearty laugh. Fade to black.)
GRANNIES GONE WILD
Written by Gillian M. Berrow
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to the interior of a locker as its door swings open to frame Rainbow Dash standing at it. She is in her Wonderbolt flight suit—this is the locker room within the team’s compound—and she retrieves her goggles and props them on her forehead. Fleetfoot, Misty Fly, and Soarin’ walk into view on the start of the next line, drawing her attention; all three are out of uniform, and Fleetfoot has the strap of a gym bag in her teeth.)
Soarin’: (excitedly) I’m so glad I made it to Las Pegasus— (Fleetfoot sets the bag down.) —before the fastest, most thrilling ride of all time closes for good! (The room proper; Rainbow closes her locker and turns to face them.)
Rainbow: Wait. The fastest, most thrilling ride of all time?
(Daytime sky is visible through the windows. Incredulous grimaces and gasps from the three teammates.)
Misty: She hasn’t heard of the Wild Blue Yonder?
Rainbow: (laughing scornfully) Of course I have! It’s that one where, uh… (Long pause.) …all right, you got me. What is it?
Soarin’: (foreleg across her shoulders) Only the coolest roller coaster ever!
Misty: (scoffing) You can’t really call yourself a Wonderbolt if you haven’t been on it.
(Rainbow’s eyes follow her pointing hoof to a bulletin board on the wall, covered with photos and notes. Cut to a close-up, panning slowly from one to the next: a fully outfitted FF and Soarin’ in the front car of a cloud-trimmed roller coaster as it hurtles down an incline…two more Wonderbolts, one screaming and the other struggling not to vomit…Spitfire and Misty calmly playing chess as they ride. The camera then cuts back to a close-up of Rainbow, who voices a sound of proper awe.)
Rainbow: (hovering) It looks incredible!
Soarin’: (from o.s.) Oh, it is. (Zoom out to frame him standing alongside.) First, you strap yourself into the cloud rocket car— (launching himself backwards) —and then you’re catapulted straight through a—
(Cut to the upper reaches of the gym in the School of Friendship. Now out of her suit and goggles, Rainbow loops her way over the heads of the gathered students.)
Rainbow: (flying through a hoop) —series of daring dips and terrifying turns!
(Confused glances pass between Sandbar, Smolder, and Yona, the dragon throwing in a shrug for good measure. Rainbow whisks past them, the view wiping behind her tail to the shop floor of Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie Pie stands behind a display case.)
Rainbow: (pulling into view, blurring through loop-the-loops) Flipping upside down so many times, you don’t know which way is up!
(The effect of this display is to disorient Pinkie so thoroughly that she pitches face first into a cake on the counter, splattering its innards over the camera. The mess slides away to frame Fluttershy, her rabbit Angel, and Rarity at a worktable in the Carousel Boutique. Her reading glasses on, the white unicorn levitates a measuring tape to gauge the length of Angel’s hind leg—but here comes Rainbow to sweep the little guy into the air.)
Rainbow: (rising toward ceiling in jerks) ’Til finally you climb to the highest peak on the rails! (diving) Then drop towards the ground at lightning speed—
(Cut to Applejack standing within one of the Sweet Apple Acres orchards.)
Rainbow: (dropping into view without Angel, sliding to a stop on hind legs) —before coming up to a screeching halt! (hovering) It’s the coolest ride ever to exist in the history of Equestria!
Applejack: (puzzled) So when did you ride it?
Rainbow: Oh! (Sheepish chuckle.) I haven’t.
(She touches down as the farmer gives voice to an exasperated groan. Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of one tree trunk. Orange-tan hind legs rise up to slam their hooves against the bark; a longer shot frames Applejack watching the apples drop into and around a waiting basket as Rainbow crosses to her.)
Rainbow: The ride closes this week, forever! (petulantly, brushing dust off foreleg) But I can’t go to Las Pegasus because I have to teach at Twilight’s school. I’m gonna miss out on the coolest roller coaster of all time!
(She flops melodramatically onto her back, but rises almost immediately with a calculating smile.)
Rainbow: Unless…
Applejack: (adjusting hat) Why do I feel like you’re about to ask me a mighty big favor?
(Rainbow pops up into a desperate, point-blank hover, planting both front hooves on the blonde’s chest.)
Rainbow: Can you cover my classes?
(There follows a one-two combo of a pleading little whimper and big shiny red-violet eyes whose pupils easily reflect Applejack’s face.)
Applejack: Absolutely! (Rainbow gasps; her eyes shrink to stunned points.)
Rainbow: Really? Awesome!
(She disappears in a vivid blur—but not fast enough to avoid being snagged by her tail and reeled back in by an expert twirl of Applejack’s lasso.)
Applejack: On one condition. You tag along with a few other ponies goin’ to Las Pegasus.
(She glances back behind herself, Rainbow shifting her focus in that direction. Cut to Granny Smith slowly ambling up over a rise in the farmland. When the camera shifts back to Rainbow, she is up on all fours again to laugh heartily, the rope off her tail.)
Rainbow: Surely you don’t mean Granny Smith.
Applejack: No, no, of course not. (gesturing toward rise) I mean Granny Smith and the rest of the Gold Horseshoe Gals.
Granny: (calling over shoulder) Hurry your haunches, hinnies!
(Behind her come three other elderly mares who have figured prominently in past episodes. Cut to a close-up, panning from one to the next as she is named.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Grand-Auntie Applesauce, Cousin Apple Rose, and Cousin Goldie Delicious.
(The first two appeared in “Apple Family Reunion”; the third is wearing saddlebags in which a couple of her cats are riding shotgun. One of them—gray, cross-eyed—meows loudly. Back to Applejack and Rainbow.)
Applejack: Why, I’m sure they’d be plumb tickled to have you join their annual grand-mares’ trip to Las Pegasus. (Rainbow cringes visibly.) It’ll be perfect. I’ll teach your classes, and you can look after them for me.
(Her raised hoof gets slapped down with a disbelieving scoff.)
Rainbow: Look after them?!?
Applejack: So they don’t get too carried away. Usually Big Mac goes along as a chaperone— (gesturing aside) —but I’m sure he’d love a break.
(The sound of something being slowly and laboriously moved is heard under the end of this. Its source proves to be Big Macintosh, his muscles taxed to their limit as he hauls a pile of luggage and cats at least twice his own height; one feline rides in a carrier whose handle is gripped in his jaws. The sheer poundage finally proves too much, and he collapses to his belly under it all, the free cats scampering away with a startled yowl.)
Rainbow: (hovering, leaning into Applejack’s face) There is no way I’m going to Las Pegasus with a bunch of old, slow grannies!
Applejack: (pushing her back) So you don’t mind missin’ your only chance to ride the Wild Blue Yonder?
(By the time she finishes, she has backed the sky-blue pony up a few steps and unnerved her so badly that she drops to her haunches before the level green eyes. A full-scale war rages through Rainbow’s mind, ending with a frustrated grunt.)
Rainbow: (hovering briefly) Fine! I’ll go!
Applejack: (chuckling) That’s the spirit! (Macintosh chases a cat in the background.) Now skedaddle so I can help ’em get ready.
Granny: (from o.s.) Applejack!
(Long shot of the main barn; she is at an upper-story window, while the other oldsters stand by the open main door. The pursuit of the runaway cat continues across the fields.)
Granny: Have you seen my Cranky Flank cream? I can’t find it in this whole tootin’ farmhouse!
Applejack: (to Rainbow) It’s, uh, gonna take a while.
(She sets off to aid in the search as Rainbow slumps dejectedly where she stands and claps an irked hoof to her face. Dissolve to an extreme close-up of the town clock tower’s timepiece, the hands showing 12:59, and zoom out slightly to show the flyer hovering to watch it with fear-saturated intent. At the click of the minute hand and the single stroke of the bell, a supremely fed-up yell begins to build in her throat, but she manages to tamp it down the level of a loud groan. Cut to a moored hot-air balloon in the middle of one street and zoom in slowly as she arcs down to it. Applejack stands by the rig, doing nothing of particular import, and Cherry Berry undertakes an inspection while wearing a leather aviator helmet and goggles.)
Rainbow: Why is this taking so long? The Wild Blue Yonder’s gonna close before we even get to Las Pegasus!
(She plunks her haunches onto the steps of the platform on which the balloon rests, crossing her forelegs grumpily.)
Applejack: Here.
(She nips up a scroll in her teeth and passes it over for Rainbow to take in a wing.)
Applejack: I made a list to help you keep the grand-mares outta trouble. Don’t want to have to bring ’em back home before you get to go on your roller coaster.
Rainbow: (shocked) That could happen?
Applejack: Only if you don’t follow the rules. These grannies need a lotta care. If one of ’em overdoes it, it’s “bye-bye, Las Pegasus” for the lotta you.
(She backs off as Rainbow opens the scroll.)
Rainbow: (reading, increasingly aghast) “Make sure they get their naps…eat only soft foods…careful when dancing…don’t get too excited”? Seriously?
Applejack: (sternly) And don’t let ’em outta your sight… (Extreme close-up.) …ever! (Rainbow has put away the scroll.)
Rainbow: Wait. Then how am I supposed to go on the roller coaster?
Applejack: (smiling, foreleg across Rainbow’s shoulders) You’ll find time, and you might even learn a thing or two about havin’ a good time from these old gals.
(Here come the Gold Horseshoe Gals, having traded their usual clothing accessories for matching white T-shirts and sun visors that each sport a gold horseshoe; the shirts’ collar trim is gold, and the visors’ bills are transparent green. All four carry their bags’ handles in their teeth, and Goldie Delicious has three cats on leashes.)
Rainbow: (dryly) Yeah. That’ll happen. (The four begin climbing in; Cherry is aboard, waiting for them.)
Applejack: All right, y’all. Time to get this show on the road! (chuckling) Or in the sky, in this case.
(Watching/hearing a few hundred years’ worth of old mares go by grates on Rainbow’s patience until she has no choice but to uncork a loud groan.)
Rainbow: Come on, come on, come on!
(Goldie, the last of the group, sets one cat within the balloon’s basket, then another—each one promptly jumping over the side—and then prepares to load in her own bag. This does it for Rainbow’s nerves, and she lets go with a half-crazed growl and a pull at her mane that very nearly tears half of it out by the roots. A split-second blaze of color marks her rounding up of the wayward cats, which are then unceremoniously dumped in with the four seniors.)
Rainbow: Go, go, go, go, go!
(She rockets upward, Cherry pulls a rope in her teeth to fire up the burner, and the balloon lifts off. After several seconds of waving goodbye with her hat, Applejack puts it back on and walks away. It takes Rainbow only a moment to rise well above the cloud cover, where she stops dead and waits…and waits…and waits for the balloon to ascend slowly to her level. Her supremely annoyed growl carries all too clearly through the tranquil skies.)
Rainbow: Everypony okay in there?
Granny: Dandy as a pansy in a plant pot!
Apple Rose: You know, this hot-air balloon ride reminds me of the time I climbed a tree. Have I ever told you that story?
Applesauce: (bored) Only about a million times.
Apple Rose: (loudly, deploying an ear trumpet) Huh? What did you say?
(The unwilling chaperone snatches hold of the device’s bell and angles it upward so she can speak directly into it.)
Rainbow: (loudly, reverberating) They said they’ve heard the tree story!
Apple Rose: (normal volume, putting trumpet down) Oh, you want to hear the tree story. Okay. (Cut to the other three.)
Goldie: (wearily; a cat yowls and tries to escape) Here we go again.
Apple Rose: (from o.s.) Back when I was a young filly— (Back to her.) —I was afraid of tree climbin’. Knees knockin’, hooves sweatin’—have you ever had the hoof sweats? (Cut to Rainbow, who glares sullenly as she continues o.s.) Well, they’re just the worst thing.
(Long shot of the entire entourage.)
Apple Rose: You know, Cousin Strudel—she used to get ’em too. (fading out) Now, of course she was a champion fritter thrower…
(Dissolve to a stallion—curiously, a winged unicorn—clad in a yellow hard hat and orange safety vest. He backs up across a large platform, waving a pair of orange signal beacons in his magic aura; cut to a long shot of this area—a balloon takeoff/landing zone among the clouds. As soon as the Ponyville craft touches down, the Gals emerge onto the platform and Rainbow zips up with an eager little grin. An overhead shot and zoom out gives away the reason for her change of heart: they have arrived at the nonstop party that is Las Pegasus, as seen in “Viva Las Pegasus.”)
Rainbow: The Wild Blue Yonder is in our hotel?!?
(She subdues herself and turns to face the four as Cherry finishes bringing out the luggage. Goldie is now carrying one of her cats.)
Rainbow: Uh…I bet you grannies are feeling super-tired from your journey.
Granny: Nope. How ’bout a trot down the avenue to see the sights, girls?
Goldie: (dropping cat) Oh, forget the sights! I came here to play some serious Horseshoe Toss!
Apple Rose: Oh, can we see the rainbow fountains at the water show? They’re so magical.
Applesauce: My pores are cryin’ for a mud mask at the Prism Palace Spa!
(She pulls back the loose skin of her face as she finishes, giving herself the appearance of a mare at least six decades younger until it all falls forward again.)
Rainbow: (shrewdly) You know what would be really fun? Relaxing in our room! (hovering) Come on! Last one to the hotel is a rotten apple!
(She blasts off in that direction, but her charges show no sign of following her lead; instead, they turn slowly toward their piled baggage. Rainbow doubles back to it as quickly as she left and stands up on her hind legs to block their approach.)
Rainbow: Let me get that for you.
(As they do a glacial U-turn and start for the hotel, she gets behind the jumble and finds out for herself just how heavy it all is, unable to move it at more than a snail’s pace despite her grunting exertions. Wipe to a pair of closed, gilded double doors framed in lights that bear the likenesses of the Flim Flam Brothers. Whoops and hollers of joy ring out from o.s. as these swing inward to admit the aged travelers and Rainbow, who has somehow managed to get the entire load airborne; she is only too happy to dump it all over the threshold, missing their heads by only a hair or three. She has barely made it inside before an ecstatic gasp inflates her lungs; cut to her perspective and tilt up slowly. They have entered the lobby of the hotel that figured prominently in “Viva Las Pegasus,” still stuffed from floor to ceiling with attractions to entertain the bustling crowd. Only one change is immediately noticeable: the gilded statue of Gladmane, pulled down after his ouster as owner, has been replaced by a pair for the smooth-talking siblings who took over in his place. A greater extent of the lobby’s overhead roller coaster is now seen, snaking and looping in every conceivable direction, passing through/around strategically placed clouds, and even threading into and out of a few windows.)
Rainbow: Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! There it is—the best roller coaster ever!
(Back to her, a shiny-eyed grin threatening to split her face in two—at least until a creaky whoop from Goldie snaps her back to reality.)
Goldie: Warm up those withers, ladies! There’s a horseshoe-hurlin’ trophy with our names on it!
(Said ladies go into an assortment of limbering-up exercises, causing Rainbow’s face to contort into a queasy grimace. Behind her, a ghostly, translucent image of Applejack’s face fades into view.)
Applejack: (spookily, reverberating) Don’t let them get too excited, or you’ll have to go home!
(She fades away in time with a panicked gasp from Rainbow.)
Rainbow: (waving for attention; they stop) Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. That sounds a little too exciting. (pointing off to one side) Why don’t we get you checked in first?
(On the end of this, the camera pans in that direction to stop on an earth pony bellhop stallion who has just rolled a luggage cart up to the ready. As he begins to load up bags and cats, Applesauce strolls across with her best come-hither expression; her first words freeze him in place.)
Applesauce: Oh, my. You are a strong pony, aren’t you, sugar hocks?
(The object of her affection can do no more than force down a hard swallow, and the other three giggle and cackle as they step over. Rainbow, for her part, looks as if she might need a heavy dose of antacid to settle her stomach; she groans quietly to herself and flies after them. Wipe to a set of closed doors, which open to let the bellhop push the cart in, followed by the five guests. They have entered an expansive suite, one end of which is visible from this angle: common area with wall-to-wall windows and a huge fruit basket resting on the couch, side bedroom, dresser/vanity resting under a sizable wall mirror.)
Bellhop: Welcome to our Gold Horseshoe Suit. Only the best of the best for our favorite guests, which of course means you lovely mares.
(The camera pans briefly away from him during this line, tracking the group’s survey of the suite: a second couch facing the one set with the basket, and a crystal chandelier hanging above the coffee table between them. Once the view returns to him and he finishes speaking, Applesauce decides to do a little more flirting.)
Applesauce: Why, thank you a bushel and a peck, you scrumptious morsel of frosted carrot cake.
(The hapless stallion reacts much as he did in the lobby, and the coin she offers in her teeth as a tip does not settle his mind one whit.)
Bellhop: Oh! (chuckling, tipping cap) Thank you, ma’am.
(With a degree of revulsion that sets his entire body jittering, he eases forward to lock his own choppers on the legal tender. He exits with it, missing the cocked-eyebrow leer she sends after him.)
Applesauce: (to the others) I think he was sweet on me. Maybe I should ask him to accompany me to the magic show tonight. (Goldie is holding one of her cats now; Granny laughs.)
Granny: You sure your name’s not Apple Saucy? Better find the brakes on that buggy, sugar. We just got here.
Applesauce: You’re right. (rubbing chin in thought) Better see what else is out there first. The day is young and I am not!
(Giggles from the other Gals as Rainbow pulls out the scroll Applejack left her and runs an eye over it. A second bedroom can now be seen behind them, on the side of the suite opposite where they came in.)
Rainbow: Uh— (Tuck it away.) —Granny Smith’s right. (Goldie drops her cat.) Let’s not overdo it.
(A deft dart to the windows allows her to pull the curtains shut.)
Rainbow: How about a nice nap so you can really enjoy Las Pegasus?
Goldie: (yawning loudly, winking to Granny/Apple Rose) Good idea! We could use some shut-eye, hmm? (Granny slyly acknowledges her.)
Apple Rose: But I’m not tired.
(A good hard nudge in the flank from the Apple matriarch, and she has caught on.)
Apple Rose: (stammering) Oh, right. I…yaaawwwnnn.
(The rest of the Gals follow suit with fake yawns of their own.)
Granny: (to Rainbow) You go along now and explore while we rest, sugar booger. (All four head for the bedrooms.) Yawn.
Rainbow: (brightening) Uh, if you say so!
(She makes a beeline for the door, but stops short upon finding Goldie’s cats—tan, cross-eyed—sitting in her way.)
Rainbow: What? They’ll be in here sleeping the whole time I’m gone.
(The animal remains silent, only responding with an out-of-sync blink.)
Rainbow: Quit judging me!
(Out she goes, the door slamming shut behind her; only now does the cat stir, licking at a hind leg to bathe itself. Wipe to a hall lined with doors, among which is a wide curtained entrance to an adjoining room. Above it is a bank of clouds encircled by loops of roller coaster track and backed by a rising sun—this can only be the entrance for the Wild Blue Yonder—and a unicorn stallion in a name-tagged golf shirt stands on duty. Rainbow flashes past along a connecting hall, then doubles back and comes in for a landing in front of the attendant.)
Rainbow: (clearing throat) One ticket for the coolest roller coaster of all time, please.
(This item is promptly levitated across so she can take it in her mouth, and she parts the curtains fully—only to find a colossal waiting line that stretches back and forth across the floor through a maze of velvet ropes. Rainbow recoils with a stunned gasp, letting the curtains fall back into place as her ticket flutters down to the carpet.)
Rainbow: But…but…this line never ends!
Tourist mare: (eagerly, walking up behind her) I know, right? Good thing we can just stand here all day without any responsibilities waitin’ for us.
(Her laugh is met by a protracted groan from the deflated pegasus, who trudges away past the ponies who have queued up behind her. A stallion is now in behind the tourist mare.)
Tourist mare: (calling after her) Oh, hey, thanks!
Rainbow: (woodenly) Enjoy the ride.
(The attendant floats a ticket to the mare. Wipe to just inside the closed door of the suite, which opens quietly so Rainbow can peek in. Finding the coast clear, she eases it shut and flaps quietly in without disturbing the cat asleep on the nearest vanity. Cut to within one darkened bedroom, the camera aimed at the closed doors and framing the foot of its bed as Rainbow lets herself in to hover at the threshold. The blanket is pulled up over the lumpy form of its occupant.)
Rainbow: (landing, chuckling) They didn’t even know I left.
(All is quiet until the lump partly deflates due to a cat jumping out from under the blanket with a yowl.)
Rainbow: Whoa!
(A swift yank at the covering exposes only piles of pillows and a second cat, which wakes up with a bewildered little meow and brings a shocked yelp from Rainbow. She rockets across the suite, knocks open the doors to the other bedroom, and finds pillows and the contents of the suite’s fruit basket under the blanket in its bed.)
Rainbow: (gasping deeply) They’re gone!
(Snap to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to the hotel arcade. A freaked-out Rainbow hurtles in, whimpering and mumbling to herself, and begins aerial reconnaissance of the game players.)
Rainbow: (calling out) Granny Smith? Apple Rose? Are you here?
(She leans abruptly in front of Bon Bon and Lyra Heartstrings, seated side by side in a photo booth.)
Rainbow: Applesauce?
(A camera flash, followed by the booth ejecting its strip of four pictures—all of which show the rattled blue mare crowding out the puzzled pair. Elsewhere, a stallion plays a claw game and gets a big surprise when his snatch at the prizes within snags Rainbow by the skull instead.)
Rainbow: Goldie?
(Leaving the machine, she does another pass and then lands, hoof to forehead as a frustrated snarl escapes her lips.)
Rainbow: I’m the worst chaperone ever!
(As in Act One, a spectral image of Applejack’s face appears floating behind her.)
Applejack: (spookily, reverberating) Don’t let them outta your sight!
Rainbow: (waving her off; she poofs away) I know, I know!
(A few galloping strides bring her to intercept a passing stallion.)
Rainbow: Excuse me, sir. Have you seen a group of old mares around here?
Stallion: Lady, you just described half the ponies in this place.
(His pointing hoof drives the point home: the arcade and lobby are teeming with pensioners. She groans, long and loud, as he goes about his business.)
Rainbow: This place is huge! They could be anywhere!
(A chant of “Goldie! Goldie! Goldie!” shakes her out of her despair; cut to this lively throng as she shoulders her way to the front, then to the missing mares. They are gathered at a horseshoe-throwing game, Goldie at the line and ready to pitch, and a barker stallion in a red/white-striped coat, white dress shirt, red bow tie, and boater hat stands on a stool and speaks into a hanging microphone. All of his lines are amplified by the sound system.)
Barker: Can they do it? Can good old Goldie Delicious and the Gold Horseshoe Gals break the all-time resort record, folks?
(Good old Goldie lets fly, dropping the iron neatly onto the stake at the far end of the green. It rattles its way down to the floor as a ringer, prompting a round of cheers from the onlookers.)
Goldie: (high-fiving Granny) Now that’s how you hurl a horseshoe!
Rainbow: (impressed) Hah! No way! Goldie’s totally got game!
Barker: Make some noise for the best-played game of horseshoes this resort has ever seen! Can you believe your eyes, folks?
(More cheers as Granny passes a horseshoe to Goldie, who casually flips it from one front hoof to the other.)
Rainbow: Yeah! (hovering) Go, Goldie!
Barker: Stand back! She’s getting excited!
Rainbow: Huh?
(The specter of Applejack drifts past, saying nothing but letting its two green eyes broadcast their disapproval loud and clear.)
Rainbow: Uh-oh!
(She plucks away the shoe jus as Goldie is about to throw, leading to a very confused squawk from the latter.)
Rainbow: Uh, mind if I try?
(Her back to the game, she heaves it over her shoulder without looking; it thunks onto the turf well short of the stake and falls flat, instantly killing the festive mood.)
Rainbow: (innocently) Whoops. Guess I’m no good at this game. Sorry.
Barker: And the Gold Horseshoe Gals are out! Looks like the show’s over, everypony. (The microphone is reeled up to the ceiling.)
Crowd: Awww…
(They and the barker swiftly disperse to leave Rainbow on the receiving end of bemused/annoyed looks from four pairs of old eyes.)
Rainbow: Oh, I’m so glad I found you! (squashing Goldie’s cheeks) Everypony feeling okay? (moving to Applesauce) Not too excited?
Goldie: (dryly) Pretty much the opposite right now.
Rainbow: (sighing) Good. From now on, I’m not letting you grannies out of my sight.
(She crosses her forelegs with an air of finality, but knowing glances pass between the elders.)
Applesauce: In that case, let’s paint the town candy-apple red!
Goldie: Ohhh! We could play more games!
Apple Rose: Or go shopping for hats! Have I ever told you about the time I got a new hat and it turned out to be a bird? (Chuckle.)
(After a moment’s looking around the area, Granny brightens and points at a row of posters advertising various attractions, one of which is the Wild Blue Yonder.)
Granny: That’s what we oughta do!
Rainbow: (brightening) Really?
(Her grin widens a notch or three—and then, in a shot from Granny’s perspective, the wrinkled green hoof shifts ever so slowly to indicate the next poster in line: the hotel buffet.)
Granny: Hit the buffet! (The sky-blue face twists in shock; back to her.) All that horseshoe tossin’ sure works up an appy-tite.
Rainbow: (landing, sighing heavily) Uh-huh.
(She finds herself with no choice but to follow the quartet out of the arcade. Dissolve to an extreme close-up of a stretch of the buffet line as Granny slides her tray into view and commandeers an entire platter of loaded nachos.)
Granny: I love me some nachos! (prodding them) I’m-a set my dentures loose on these vittles until the crumbs cry uncle!
(Behind her, the rest of the gang have secured their own stashes of goodies. Rainbow, bringing up the rear, starts in surprise at this declaration; zoom in quickly on her. Right on cue, here comes the Applejack apparition.)
Applejack: (spookily, reverberating) They can only eat soft foods! You’re a nacho away from no rolly-coaster!
(Vanish. Granny opens her jaws as wide as they will go, ready to dive into the bliss of mounded chips and cheese and sour cream and toppings, but ends up with a mouthful of air once Rainbow flashes by to steal the lot. She mumbles confusedly after the pegasus, who has pulled into a hover with the platter.)
Rainbow: Come on, Granny! You know you can’t have those. They’re super-crunchy.
(A trash can is plucked up from the floor and the entire platter dumped in. Another high-speed pass clears the food off the others’ trays, and a third bestows a bowl of soup per Gal. The culinary quick change earns her a quadruple hairy eyeball.)
Rainbow: How about some nice soft carrot soup instead?
Granny: I thought you was s’posed to be the fun one. (They get trays in teeth and head for a table.)
Rainbow: Wait! I am fun!
(A loudspeaker crackles to life, broadcasting the voice of an announcer stallion.)
Announcer voice: Attention all thrill-seekers! There’s only one day left to ride the ride of all rides, the Wild Blue Yonder, before it’s gone for good! Get in line—now!
(This update throws a scare into Rainbow, and the two passersby who hustle away in response spook a whimper out of her locked teeth. Meanwhile, the Gals have seated themselves at a table and are moodily glaring at their bowls of soup, Apple Rose tentatively lapping hers up as well. Rainbow flies over to sit with them, having procured a fresh platter of nachos for herself.)
Rainbow: (with forced cheer) So, what does everypony want to do tonight? (Nervous little laugh.) I-I was thinking “go to our room and put on eye masks and earplugs”?
(They pointedly refuse to make eye contact as she stuffs her mouth full of the cheesy goodness she denied to Granny.)
Apple Rose: I’d rather hit the club and show off my dance moves. (gyrating a bit in her seat) I’m quite a legend when it comes to rumba.
(Assorted encouraging responses from the other three as Rainbow sneaks a quick peek at her scroll and stows it away in close-up. She has swallowed her mouthful.)
Rainbow: Sounds kind of intense. Aren’t you all exhausted from your big day? (Zoom out to frame Goldie on the next line.)
Goldie: (pounding table) Heck, no! We save up our energy all year for Las Pegasus weekend. Isn’t that right, girls?
Granny, Apple Rose, Applesauce: (nodding) Mmm-hmm!
Rainbow: (groaning, propping head on front hooves) Dancing it is, then. I’ll be there.
(The collapse of her mood is completed when she goes face first into her nachos. Wipe to an extreme close-up of a DJ’s deck as a record is floated onto an unoccupied turntable and set spinning, then cut to a longer shot and zoom out. DJ P0N-3 is on duty, up on an elevated platform at the edge of a large circular dance floor lit by roving spotlight beams and the reflections from a huge mirrored disco ball. Tables are set up around the perimeter, but the Ponyville five are occupying exactly none of them. The Gals are grooving to a subdued electronic melody in the center of the floor, having shed their shirts and visors in favor of their usual accessories, while Rainbow rocks moodily in place off to one side, her face clean of nacho detritus. The sight of Apple Rose doing a very passable moonwalk throws a jumbo monkey wrench into her mind’s workings; it is quickly followed by the vision of Applejack’s face.)
Applejack: (spookily, reverberating) Careful when dancing!
Rainbow: (waving her off; she poofs away) Ugh! Stop doing that! (calling after Apple Rose) Uh, that’s probably enough dancing for now…right, Apple Rose?
Apple Rose: (rising to hind legs) Oh, that was just my warm-up!
(If the moonwalk was a monkey wrench, the blurring pirouette that follows it dumps the rest of the toolbox into Rainbow’s brain pan. As the other three keep dancing, they catch sight of two stallions idling at the edge of the dance floor. One is Big Bucks: pale violet earth pony; short, two-tone, light yellow-green mane/tail/mustache carefully styled; green eyes; pale yellow hoof tips; white sportcoat over an open-collared brown dress shirt; cutie mark of a white star springing from an upended top hat. The other is Jackpot: bright blue unicorn, short mane/tail in white and light blue, purple eyes, brown sportcoat over a white turtleneck with a green gem brooch at the collar, cutie mark of three gold stars in a row. Bucks has a drink resting at the edge of DJ P0N-3’s platform, while Jackpot holds one in his aura.)
Applesauce: (to Granny, foreleg across her shoulders) Look! It’s our favorite magicians, Big Bucks and Jackpot! (Goldie joins them, staring raptly.) And aren’t they lookin’ handsome as ever?
(Bucks whispers to Jackpot and points the group out; the two do a quick bit of on-the-fly grooming and start to approach. Granny counters by undoing the buns in her mane/tail so that waterfalls of whitened locks cascade down around her shoulders and rump. Jackpot has a slight British accent and a flair for the dramatic when he speaks, while Bucks is more of a smooth talker.)
Jackpot: (clearing throat) You little fillies have got some smooth moves. (Apple Rose breakdances past in the background during this line; the other three giggle coquettishly.)
Bucks: (circling behind Applesauce/Goldie) Say, how would you Gold Horseshoe Gals like to bring some of that good energy into our magic show tonight?
Jackpot: (conjuring several tickets between his hooves) Here’s five complimentary VIP tickets to our most amazing trick, in the Poney Fantastique Theater.
(His perspective: he points toward a curtained doorway surmounted by an image of a top-hatted mare producing a burst of stars.)
Jackpot: Just over there. (Back to the group.)
Applesauce: Sugar cube, we never miss your show. (She waggles her eyebrows at him—one at a time, in quick succession.)
Jackpot: Fabulous! We’ll save a spot for you—onstage.
Bucks: (bowing) And in our hearts. (Wink; close-up of Rainbow.)
Rainbow: (to herself, repulsed) So gross.
(Zoom out to the sound of the others’ whoops and laughter. She has wound up sitting on the platform’s edge and is watching the two performers exit; Granny now has the tickets.)
Granny: (jumping in place) Yee-haa, girls! Applesauce landed us some Very Important Pony tickets for the show tonight!
(They laugh and murmur among themselves as Rainbow slumps far enough forward to risk a tumble and a face plant on the dance floor. After a long moment, she snaps upright again.)
Rainbow: Oh, come on! You said you were going back to the room after dancing—so each pony could have some alone time?
Goldie: Oh, now don’t be a stick in the mud! Trust me, you’ll love this show. It’s the best thing in Las Pegasus.
(All four retirees leave the club amid a gale of laughter and chatter as Rainbow claps a supremely irritated hoof to her face. The two tourists who were behind her in line for the Wild Blue Yonder walk by, but stop upon recognizing her. The mare has a document tucked into a fold of her shirt.)
Tourist mare: Oh, hey! Thanks for giving me your place in line. (The item is levitated out and shown to Rainbow.) They said I’m one of the last ponies ever to ride the Wild Blue Yonder!
(Close-up of both it and Rainbow’s queasy reaction as she finishes speaking—a photo of the two unicorns having a grand time riding in the coaster’s front car. Following the mare’s laugh, the camera cuts to frame all three again; she slips it back into its spot, and she and the stallion go on their way. The flying ace’s brain completely locks up, causing the rest of her to collapse insensate onto her back, and the view fades to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a packed theater whose stage is set with backdrops and decorations that evoke an undersea fantasy. Bucks and Jackpot are on either side of a stand whose upper half is covered by a cloth. Both are wearing top hats, bow ties, and tuxedo jackets over ruffled dress shirts. Bucks: blue jacket/tie/hatband, pale blue jacket piping, white shirt and hat. Jackpot: purple jacket/tie/hatband, yellow piping and hat, lighter yellow shirt. Zoom in slowly as Jackpot whisks the cloth away to reveal a small table on which nothing rests—the climax of a disappearing trick, perhaps—and the crowd begins to cheer. The Gals are in the front row, now wearing their shirts and visors again and accompanied by a dour-faced Rainbow. Granny has put her mane/tail back into their usual buns.)
Bucks: And now, for the trick that made us famous!
Jackpot: The most dangerous magical feat known to ponykind!
(Multicolored spotlights play across the stage as the table is lowered out of sight and the audience voices its awe.)
Jackpot: We’d like to invite some very special mares to the stage. (Muted applause.)
Applesauce: (to the other Gals) That’s our cue, girls! (All four vacate their seats and head up.)
Rainbow: (hushed) Hey! Where are you going? Come back!
(She hurries after them, but the stallion she asked for help in the arcade during Act Two rises from his seat to block her way. At her polite tap and hopeful grin, he gives her a dirty look and rears up far enough to let her gallop through. Meanwhile, the elderly mares—now having traded their visors for feathered showgirl-style headdresses—step to center stage.)
Bucks: Meet our lovely assistants!
(A round of applause drifts up as Rainbow makes her way to a backstage entrance and cringes in fear at the sight before her.)
Jackpot: They will make a splash-tastic escape using only the instructions we give them… (hoof to temple) …with our minds. (Awed ooh’s from the crowd.)
Bucks: Don’t try this at home, folks!
(At his wink and an upraised foreleg from both stallions, a large, rectangular, glass-walled tank with an open bottom is lowered on chains from the rafters to pen in the four assistants. The top and bottom edges feature gilded scrollwork, and the top face is a solid metal panel rather than glass. Once its bottom edges are solidly in contact with the stage, water begins to pour from a drain set into the planks, slowly filling the tank as they smile to the audience and trade high fives. Rainbow gasps in brain-paralyzing fright, hooves to temples, and here comes Applejack’s ghostly avatar.)
Applejack: (dryly, reverberating) Do I really have to say anything?
(Spoken without the previous spooky inflection, these seven words tip Rainbow into a headlong flight to the stage; she addresses first Bucks and then Jackpot on the next line.)
Rainbow: Release those grannies right now!
(Murmurs of surprise and dismay ripple through the audience. Pinned under the glare of those red-violet eyes, Jackpot can only shrug helplessly as the water level reaches the top of the tank. Rainbow throws her weight against the front wall and, with her wings buzzing like a hummingbird’s after ten gallons of coffee, begins to tip the enclosure ever so slowly backwards. The bottom edge comes free of the stage, releasing the water to cascade everywhere, but she does not stop until the whole thing has landed on its back. Granny bites down on the varicolored tail and gives one good hard yank to drag Rainbow down for a furious eye-to-eye.)
Granny: What’d you go and do that for? That was our big star moment!
Rainbow: Y-You were in danger! I-I saw the water! You were trapped!
Goldie: Oh, pish-tosh! This is a magic show! We’ve seen it a thousand times! Everypony always escapes!
(Now the murmurs that run through the crowd are ones of dawning comprehension at the secret that she has just involuntarily given away.)
Bucks: (nervously, crossing to Jackpot) Uh, th-th-that’s right, folks, because of our, um, uh…skill as magicians!
Jackpot: (hastily) And now, a disappearing act!
(Whipping a small device from behind his collar, he throws it down to release a screen-filling burst of blue smoke. A longer shot reveals, though, that the diversion has only obscured their end of the stage; they gallop madly across and into the wings, the haze clearing and the curtains closing. Behind them, the now-dry Gals fix Rainbow with a salvo of truly steamed glares.)
Applesauce: (as all remove their headdresses) Well, I hope you’re happy. (voice breaking) We’ve been waitin’ to be picked as the lovely assistants in that trick for years!
Goldie: You keep runin’ our fun! I had a hot hoof goin’ in that game you decided to lose for us!
Granny: And I wanted to eat those nachos at the buffet!
Apple Rose: And I could’ve torn up the dance floor if you didn’t keep stopping me!
Granny: They’re bein’ too polite to say it, so I will. (She gets in Rainbow’s face.) Rainbow Dash, we thought you’d be a hoot, but I ain’t never met a wetter hen!
Rainbow: (totally shocked) What?!?
Goldie: She’s right! You’ve had your mane in a twist ever since we arrived!
Apple Rose: (gently, touching Rainbow’s wing) Is something the matter, dear?
(Rainbow hangs her head ashamedly.)
Rainbow: I’m so sorry, everypony. (sitting on haunches) The truth is, all I wanted to do for this whole trip is ride the Wild Blue Yonder. I mean, it’s why I came to Las Pegasus in the first place. Applejack told me not to let you out of my sight, or you might overdo it and we’d have to go home early.
Applesauce: Applejack put you up to this?
(Grumbles of understanding pass among the Gals as Granny puts a hoof to her face, having grasped the full effect of her granddaughter’s meddling.)
Rainbow: Well, now it’s too late. (flopping onto her belly) I ruined your trip, and it’s the last day ever to ride the Wild Blue Yonder. (miserably) The line is so long, I’ll never get to go on it.
(The ensuing round of hearty laughter catches her entirely off guard.)
Rainbow: Hey. What’s so funny?
Granny: (chuckling) Is that all you wanted?
Goldie: (ditto) Well, fish-flavored kitten kibble! Why didn’t you say so sooner? (She helps Rainbow upright and rears up.) Come on, girls!
(The Gals set off at their usual sedate pace, a truly puzzled Rainbow bringing up the rear. Dissolve to the sea of ponies waiting in line to ride the colossal coaster. At the sound of a brass fanfare, they back off to one side or the other, creating a broad aisle for the five to pass. Granny and her friends now have their visors on again.)
Granny: We’re Gold Horseshoe members, the most exclusive club in Las Pegasus—
(Now at the head of the queue, she indicates the blue Wonderbolt to the attendant on duty—a different stallion from the one seen in Act One.)
Granny: —and she’s with us.
(Rainbow grins with anticipation as the attendant tips his visor and lets them through to climb the steps to the loading platform.)
Goldie: We’ve been comin’ here every moon since we can remember—(winking) —even some we don’t remember.
Applesauce: It definitely has its perks. (Wink.)
Rainbow: Like fancy suites? And roller coaster rides?
Apple Rose: That’s right! And I hope you like riding in the front.
Rainbow: Um, yes!
(A split-second later, she has claimed one of the seats in the front car and is pulling a safety harness down over her shoulders and chest with a giddy little squeak. Granny takes her time doing likewise with the other one.)
Rainbow: This is amazing! Isn’t this amazing? (The mechanism starts up.)
Granny: Sugar, you prob’ly want to hold on ’bout now.
(The coaster starts to move, cresting a near-vertical hill and eliciting a chorus of whoops once gravity takes hold to accelerate it. A series of souvenir photos now appears, one at a time and each accompanied by a camera flash: Rainbow and the Gals cheer their way through a drop with raised forelegs…they rocket through an upside-down loop…a raucous charge down a straightaway. The camera zooms out from this last to show it as the topmost of the three pictures, held fanned by a gratefully smiling Rainbow for the others to see in close-up.)
Rainbow: I’m sorry I misjudged you for being older ponies.
(Longer shot: they and Cherry are floating home in the balloon in which they arrived, including Goldie’s cats. It is late afternoon.)
Rainbow: You mares are actually pretty cool.
Granny: Rainbow Dash?
Rainbow: Yeah, Granny?
Granny: The Gals and I have been talkin’, and, well… (smiling) …we think you’re a hoot after all! We’d like to invite you to become a permanent member of the Gold Horseshoe Gals!
(She lets off a whoop as Apple Rose and Goldie hold up a shirt like theirs, each with one sleeve in her teeth, and Apple Rose shows off the matching visor. Within seconds, they have put the first item on Rainbow and hung the second from her foreleg; she regards herself with an amazed little laugh.)
Rainbow: Really?
Gals: (nodding) Mmm-hmm.
Applesauce: Same time next year?
Rainbow: (donning visor) I wouldn’t miss it for anything.
(Cut to a long shot of the balloon and zoom out slowly as it drifts toward the sun, which is soon blotted out by Applejack’s translucent visage. She smiles and winks to the group, and the view fades to black.)
SURF AND/OR TURF
Written by Brian Hohlfield
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to an overhead shot of the throne room in the Castle of Friendship. Twilight Sparkle sits in her seat, placidly regarding the magical map on the central table. Zoom in slowly and cut to a close-up; there is the sound of the doors being opened, and the camera pans slightly to frame the Cutie Mark Crusaders galloping in with cutie marks pulsing.)
Scootaloo: Princess Twilight! (Twilight hops down to face them.)
Crusaders: We’re glowing!
Twilight: (giggling) That’s what happens when you’re summoned by the map.
Sweetie Belle: Somepony needs our help?
Apple Bloom: We’re being called by the map?
Scootaloo: Did I mention we’re glowing?
(She turns this way and that in search of a better viewing angle as Twilight giggles again, once she gets herself under control, the three fillies hoist themselves up to survey the little terrain.)
Scootaloo: So, where exactly in Equestria are we needed?
Twilight: Actually, where you’re going isn’t even in Equestria.
(The camera zooms out to the opposite edge of the table, where copies of the trio’s cutie marks are circling lazily around the peak of Mont Aeris.)
Sweetie: Wow! That’s almost…off the table!
Bloom: But…what’s way out there?
Twilight: Mount Aeris, the home of the hippogriffs. And that’s where you’re headed.
Crusaders: (awestruck) Whoa…
(Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to the platform of the Ponyville train station, crowded with travelers passing one way or another during the day. A train stands at the ready; Twilight, Bloom, and Sweetie are just outside one open door, each with an assortment of luggage. The fillies’ marks have quieted down; the same will be true for Scootaloo when she appears next.)
Sweetie: You really don’t need to come with us, Twilight. We can take care of this mission just fine on our own.
Bloom: (nodding) Mmm-hmm.
Scootaloo: (from o.s.) Yeah!
(Here she comes, helmet strapped on and riding her scooter at a truly ridiculous speed—just in time to get hit broadside by a fully loaded luggage cart. The impact sends her, the suitcases, and their contents flying every which way, accompanied by two grunts from o.s. Bloom and an engineer stallion find the other two Crusaders on opposite ends of the pile—Scootaloo on top, Sweetie half-buried at the bottom. The disgruntled young unicorn spits out a scarf as the pegasus offers a weak grin. Twilight’s magic makes short work of tucking all the fallen items away, straightening up the suitcases, and setting Sweetie upright.)
Twilight: I know that. (dusting off Sweetie’s horn) But I’m not so sure the ponies who care about you want you going off so far on your own. (The engineer gives Scootaloo a dirty look and pushes the luggage cart away.) Besides, there’s some school business I need to take care of on Mount Aeris.
(She floats out a scroll and unrolls it: a form bearing a head-and-shoulders picture of Silverstream.)
Twilight: This permission slip is for Silverstream. It’s very important that her mother and father sign it, or else no field trips.
Scootaloo: (aside, to Bloom/Sweetie) Sounds like somepony just wants a vacation. (All three giggle.)
Twilight: (rolling/stowing scroll) Okay, yes, I have been wanting to visit Mount Aeris ever since the hippogriffs moved back. But it’s…purely research. Silverstream’s brother is gonna meet us there and take us to their houses.
Bloom: Wow! They have more than one house?
Twilight: I guess so. The social structure of the hippogriffs and sea ponies is a bit of a mystery.
(A conductor stallion emerges from the next car down.)
Conductor: All aboard! Last stop, the new Mount Aeris Station!
(His retreat inside is met by a babel of excited talk and a general move toward the doors. Once all have boarded, the engineer—having taken his place in the locomotive—lets the whistle sing out and the wheels start to roll. Clouds of steam hiss up to fill the screen, then clear to show the Ponyville quartet seated in one car, Twilight and Scootaloo facing Bloom and Sweetie. Bloom watches the passing scenery through the window, while her two partners in cutie mark mayhem are perusing brochures. Scootaloo has removed her helmet and stashed her scooter.)
Sweetie: I don’t know if I’d like being a hippogriff. Part bird, part pony?
Scootaloo: (flexing wings) I’m happy with just my pony parts, thanks. (Close-up of Bloom.)
Bloom: I think hippogriffs are pretty neat. I learned all about them from Applejack. (Zoom out slowly; all eyes gradually turn to her.) The hippogriffs all once lived happily on Mount Aeris. But when the Storm King invaded, they used a magic pearl to turn into sea ponies and escaped to the underwater safety of Seaquestria. (dramatically, in close-up) Then, in the Battle of Canterlot, when Applejack defeated the Storm King—
Twilight: (from o.s.) Wait. What? (Cut to her and Scootaloo.) She told you she defeated him? By herself?
Bloom: Uh…maybe she didn’t say that exactly, but it makes for a better story.
(The audience quickly loses interest, but Twilight allows herself an indulgent little giggle as the train’s whistle asserts itself.)
Conductor: (from o.s.) Final stop, Mount Aeris Station! (Scootaloo zips to the window.)
Scootaloo: Huh!
(Cut to just outside the windows on this side as nearly every rider crowds to the glass.)
Crusaders: Whoa…
(Long shot of Mount Aeris, tilting down from summit to base. Where the near-vertical rock face and its switchback trail had been completely barren when Twilight and company visited during My Little Pony: The Movie, they now display lush meadows and clusters of houses. The train chugs along an isthmus that connects the mountain’s island to the mainland and pulls in at a station overlooking the beach. A flight of steps leads down from its platform to a pier. The train stops, its doors opening to allow travelers—mostly ponies, with a couple of hippogriffs mixed in—to stream out. The hippogriffs wear crystal pendants similar to the one used by Silverstream and General Seaspray in “School Daze”; the same will be true of nearly all other members of their race when later seen. Twilight and the Crusaders are last to leave, Scootaloo and Sweetie having disposed of their brochures.)
Sweetie: All right. So what kind of cutie-mark-related friendship problem do you think we’re supposed to solve?
Twilight: I don’t know, but hippogriffs don’t have cutie marks. So it might not have anything to do with that at all.
(This throws the youngsters for a loop, but a glance at the haunches of the two who left the train confirms the truth of her words. Zoom in on one unmarked patch of hide, then cut to a pensive Bloom.)
Bloom: Huh. Still, the map called us, so it must be a kinda problem that only we can solve.
(One yellow, one orange, and one white hoof clunk together in a three-way high five in close-up; zoom out to frame the fillies.)
Crusaders: Go, Crusaders! (Break.)
Sweetie: But…how do we know exactly who we’re supposed to help?
(Tossing her a sly wink, Scootaloo steps away from the group and clears her throat.)
Scootaloo: (voice raised) Attention, please! Anygriff here have a problem?
(Heads are shaken and passersby go about their business.)
Scootaloo: (normal volume) Eh, that’s all I got. (She rejoins the others.)
Bloom: (to Twilight) Maybe if the map could be a little more specific about our mission, like maybe an address?
(This last word is spoken with emphasis on the first syllable, not uncommon in the South.)
Twilight: The map doesn’t really work like that, but I’m sure you and whoever needs help will find each other.
(All four trot down the steps and along the pier, but a bit of o.s. splashing and a young male voice bring them up short.)
Male voice: Excuse me! Miss Sparkle? Over here!
(Cut to the speaker, Terramar, a sea pony who has surfaced from the water only as far as his head and shoulders to wave them down. White hide; two-tone pale blue-green mane/hoof fins with a faint green tinge, the former short and slightly unruly; eyes matching the darker portions of the fins; crystal pendant.)
Terramar: Sorry I’m late. I’m Silverstream’s brother, Terramar. (Back to the pier.)
Bloom: (to Scootaloo, Sweetie in turn) A hippogriff can have a sea pony for a brother? How does that work, exactly?
Sweetie: (hushed) Shhh! It’s rude to ask a question like that!
(A wave of light begins to play over them from his direction; cut to the water again. Terramar has touched a hoof to his pendant, triggering a brilliant burst that leaves him as a hovering hippogriff. His beak, talons, and rear hoof tips are pale gray, as are the tips of the feathers that fringe the ends of his forelegs. His flight toward the pier indicates that he is roughly the same height as Twilight.)
Scootaloo: (from o.s.) Whoa! (Cut to the group; he lands nearby and turns to them.)
Bloom: (to Sweetie) Can I ask now? (Sweetie throws her a sour, sidewise glance.)
Terramar: (chuckling) It is kinda strange. See, after the Storm King was defeated, the sea ponies didn’t have to hide anymore, so some of them changed back to hippogriffs and went home to Mount Aeris.
Twilight: But others got used to living under the water and stayed in Seaquestria. (Terramar nods.)
Terramar: And me? (scratching back of neck) Well, I kinda go back and forth with this.
(He points out his pendant.)
Terramar: It’s a tiny piece of the magic pearl. It was split up among our kingdoms. (The Crusaders eye it closely.)
Crusaders: Whoa! / Cool!
Twilight: (pacing) Well, I’m pretty eager to see the hippogriff village— (floating her scroll out from behind herself) —you know, to get this form signed. (putting it away) And…research! So…
(She leads the other four away.)
Bloom: Hey, Terramar, does anygriff you know up there have a problem they need help with?
Terramar: (chuckling) On Mount Aeris? No, everygriff is pretty happy up there. (sighing happily) It’s a great place to live.
(On this last sentence, the camera tilts up, putting him out of view, to frame the trail leading up to the now-thriving village at the peak. Dissolve to a close-up of the heads of the two stone hippogriffs that flank the main gate and zoom out. All five have gained the plateau and found the locals amusing themselves with various pursuits.)
Twilight: (giddily) Whoa! This looks amazing! Last time I was here, it was a ghost town!
Terramar: Yeah. Queen Novo thought it was important to return our village to its former glory.
(And a zoom out to a long shot points up the success of that endeavor. A flag is run up a pole: two white hippogriffs in gold armor on a gray background, raising a gold-trimmed shield emblazoned with a stylized blue jellyfish. A fanfare is blown on elongated seashell trumpets, and an armored blue male touches down by the flagpole. Dark orange eyes; mane/tail in white and pale gray; beak/talons/rear hoof tips in a darker shade than his coat; white edging on the feathers that line each leg; the blue jellyfish from the flag on his chest plate. This is Skybeak.)
Skybeak: And now, I officially open the “Glad to Be a Hippogriff” Festival!
(The trumpeters play again as cheers break out up and down the block, and a second male steps up to face Skybeak. His coat/beak/talons/hooves/edging are in shades of pinkish-red, his armor is steel rather than gold, the eyes are dark blue, and his mane/tail sport two shades of light blue. After bowing to one another, they shoot upward amid a fresh burst of cheering. What follows is a round of midair acrobatics that culminates in Skybeak tackling his flying partner before both drop into a hover on either side of the flag. The demonstration complete, they fly off.)
Scootaloo: (hovering briefly) Wow! We picked a good day to show up!
Terramar: (slightly deflated) Not really. We do this every weekend. Hippogriffs really like being hippogriffs.
(Yet another jubilant response shakes him out of his brief funk; down come the two soldiers for a landing.)
Skybeak: (chuckling, pointing) There’s my boy!
Terramar: (brightening) Hi, Dad! (They hurry to embrace one another.)
Skybeak: Haven’t seen you in days, son. Wish you’d come around more often. (He ruffles Terramar’s mane.)
Terramar: Oh, Dad! (gesturing to others) These are Silverstream’s friends from Equestria. They came up to—
(Cut to them on the end of this, Twilight throwing in a bow, then back to Skybeak, gasping happily and putting talons to cheeks.)
Skybeak: Princess Twilight Sparkle!
(He lets go with a piercing, eagle-like cry that causes all three fillies to yelp in mixed surprise and pain, Scootaloo to pitch to the ground, and the other two to cover their ears.)
Skybeak: (voice raised) Attention, everygriff! Princess Twilight Sparkle is here! She’s Silverstream’s teacher.
(With much gasping and excited murmuring, prompted by one or the other of these two pieces of information, the admiring crowd quickly closes in around the visiting Princess. They make way for Skybeak’s approach, though.)
Skybeak: (normal volume) Here to take in the marvel that is Mount Aeris, Your Highness?
Twilight: (beaming) Absolutely! (levitating/opening scroll) And to have you sign a form for Silverstream.
Skybeak: Glad to. (foreleg across shoulders, pulling her close) But first, let’s show the Princess some real Mount Aeris hospitality! To the refreshment tent, for a stein of salmon juice!
(All the hippogriffs head in that general direction, followed by Twilight, who pauses briefly to aim a nonchalant shrug behind herself.)
Twilight: Eh, research. See you later! (walking off) And good luck! I know you’ll find your mission!
Sweetie: (to Terramar) Well, your dad’s certainly… (He and the Crusaders start walking.) …outgoing, isn’t he?
Terramar: He’s a great guy. All my relatives are nice. That’s kinda the problem.
Sweetie: (over end of previous) Wait! Stop!
(Cupping a hoof to one ear, she can discern a distant, ethereal melody.)
Sweetie: What’s that wonderful sound?
(The party of four stops not far from a gateway leading to a lush grove still higher up the mountain. The otherworldly music is emanating from this area.)
Terramar: Those are the Harmonizing Heights. Legend says that—
(He gets no further before the white filly sprints away at a speed that would earn a nod of approval from any Wonderbolt. She comes to a dust-spreading stop in close-up, the camera zooming out quickly to a long shot of the verdant expanse beyond the gateway. Everything Sweetie finds—birds tweeting on a tree branch, a clear blue stream whose surface is totally unruffled, splashing through the water and hopping across the stepping stones that bridge it—is nothing short of utterly enrapturing for her. She stops on the opposite bank and rises to her hind legs as the others catch up.)
Sweetie: (twirling/leaping around them) Woo-hoo! Yeah! Awesome! I love this!
Terramar: (to Bloom/Scootaloo) Uh, is she okay?
(Their only response is a humoring, “stick around and you’ll get it” smile from Bloom. A longer shot reveals that the stream is fed by one of several waterfalls that cascade down from the rocky pinnacle.)
Sweetie: This is absolutely the best place ever! (She comes to rest and addresses Terramar.) You are so lucky!
Scootaloo: And you get to swim in the ocean! You have two great places to live!
Bloom: How do you make up your mind which one to stay in?
Terramar: (sadly) I can’t. That’s the problem.
(Questioning looks flash among the three equine faces.)
Bloom: (smiling) Did you say “problem”?
Sweetie: You have a problem?
(Cut to him; he nods gravely just before three hooves shoot into view for a high five.)
Scootaloo: (from o.s.) Yes!
(Terramar cringes a bit, the realization sinking in that his dilemma is perhaps about to take a hard left turn. Fade to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of the peak of Mount Aeris. A joyful whoop from Sweetie rings over the skies, startling flocks of birds into flight; cut to her.)
Sweetie: We discovered our mission!
Scootaloo: All right!
Bloom: We did it!
(Now it is her turn to crank off a whoop as the three share a group hug—but celebration turns to puzzlement on every face as they take note of Terramar. A nervous little chuckle from Sweetie as they fall in line.)
Scootaloo: Sorry. You were talking about your problem?
Terramar: (pacing) Right. Like I said, Mount Aeris is one great place to live. (He glances over a row of bushes at the festival farther below.) That’s why Silverstream and my dad and some of my cousins came back here.
(Close-up of the stream, his reflection appearing in the calm water.)
Terramar: But Seaquestria is another great place to live. (The Crusaders join him.) That’s where my mom is.
Sweetie: Ohhhh! I—I didn’t know that. (Back to the four; they turn from the stream.)
Terramar: So no matter where I am, I feel like I’m letting someone down.
Bloom: No wonder you’re having such a hard time deciding.
Terramar: And I have to choose soon. Every other griff my age already knows where they belong. (scratching back of neck) I’m still not sure.
(Mildly confused looks on the fillies’ faces turn to smiles of inspiration.)
Scootaloo: When in doubt, chart it out!
(Her two colleagues nod and grin. Dissolve to a close-up of a sheet of paper and a crayon lying on the grass. The sheet has blanks for a two-column list headed by drawings of Mount Aeris and an ocean wave to represent Seaquestria. Scootaloo’s hoof nudges it forward.)
Scootaloo: (from o.s., pointing out each) Now, we put down everything great about each place— (Cut to the four.) —and everything not so great. Compare them, aaaaand…your decision is made for you.
Sweetie: Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Mount Aeris is the best of all possible worlds. Pro—it’s beautiful. (Float up the crayon to put a check mark on that side.) Con—too far from Equestria. (Add an X.) I think that pretty much sums it up.
(She wastes no time in adding three more checks, but Terramar is far from convinced.)
Terramar: But you haven’t been to Seaquestria yet! How can you even compare them?
Bloom: Terramar’s right, Sweetie Belle. It’d be more fair if we visit both places before we decide.
(Shelving the dispute for the moment, all smile and start across the meadow, but are forced to stop when Twilight comes in for a giddy, skiddy landing just short of them.)
Twilight: Hey, everypony! This festival is fantastic! Look what I won at the ring toss booth!
(A sizable trophy drifts forth in her magical grip, but fails to get much of a reaction—so she slings it away and clears her throat.)
Twilight: But of course, I’m really here on business. (to Terramar) Skybeak’s already signed the form. Now I just need your mom’s signature. Is she around?
Bloom: Um…she’s a sea pony, in Seaquestria.
Twilight: (with sudden comprehension) That’s what Silverstream meant by houses!
Terramar: (smiling, nodding) Mmm-hmm. If you’d like to meet my mom, we’re just heading down there now.
Bloom: (puzzled) And how exactly are we gonna visit underwater?
(Dissolve to the five bobbing in the shallows just offshore at the base of Mount Aeris. Zoom in slowly, then cut to a close-up. They join hooves to form a chain, with Sweetie at one end and Terramar at the other; when he touches his free hoof to his pendant, all are briefly engulfed in a multicolored flash of light. New fishtails and dorsal fins break the surface for an instant before the camera tilts down into the water and they dive gleefully in as sea ponies. Scootaloo takes instantly to the change of milieu, swimming through the seaweed growths with fluid grace.)
Scootaloo: (between giggles) Whoa! Woo-hoo! Yeah! Whoa! (She stops.) This must be just like flying! (flipping insanely fast loop-the-loops) Woo-hoo!
(She settles down and returns to the others.)
Bloom: Where’s your mom’s house, Terramar? (Scootaloo swims past them.)
Terramar: (leading others in opposite direction) Come on. It’s this way.
Scootaloo: (corkscrewing lazily after them) This is awesome!
(Wipe to the group moving through a darker area, Scootaloo still laughing and looping around them. They arrive in a great domed chamber not unlike the one to which Princess Skystar led them on the way to see Queen Novo in the movie. Instead of being nearly empty as that one was, though, it now bustles with activity by sea ponies and other marine life. As with the hippogriffs, most of the locals wear the magical pendants.)
(Terramar leads them up to one of the glowing, jellyfish-like structures hanging from the ceiling, points it out, and approaches. Inside, two females carry a tray of food away as a third puts the finishing touches on a table set for a meal. This is Oceanflow: pale yellow hide, two-tone violet mane/tail/hoof fins, blue-violet eyes, blue-green neck fringe, translucent violet wings and dorsal fin, strands of seaweed and crystals around her neck. She does not wear a pendant.)
Terramar: (from o.s.) Mom! (The five visitors enter.)
Oceanflow: Terramar! (The two hug.) Welcome home, baby! (playfully poking his nose) No excuses. This time you’re staying for dinner.
Terramar: (laughing, pointing out others) Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, this is my mom Oceanflow. (Pan slightly to frame Twilight, putting Oceanflow out of view.) And this is— (An o.s. gasp; back to her.)
Oceanflow: (crossing to Twilight) Princess Twilight Sparkle, what an honor. You know, Silverstream just raves about you.
Twilight: Well, she is one of our most hardworking students. (telekinetically passing her scroll to Oceanflow) In fact, I brought this form for you to sign so that—
Oceanflow: Both my children are so smart. Would you like to see their baby pictures?
Terramar: (mortified) Mom!
Twilight: (giddily) That sounds adorable! I’d love to!
(The white sea pony youngster just slumps sullenly where he floats as if to say, “Why me?”, prompting Twilight to do her best to become all business.)
Twilight: And, you know, to find out about aquatic early pony development and, uh…
(The Crusaders giggle among themselves, finding humor in the flimsiness of her cover story.)
Crusaders: (jokingly) Research.
Oceanflow: (to Terramar) Oh! Well, maybe your friends would like a snack while we’re gone? Some kelp chips? (holding up a cup) Fish-oil tea?
Terramar: No thanks, Mom. I’m gonna go show them around.
(Exit, followed by the trio, then dissolve to a school of fish out for a leisurely swim.)
Scootaloo: (from o.s.) Look out!
(She slams into view with a laugh and a storm of bubbles, scattering the fish—but they are quick to regroup and give her a glare that makes her rethink her approach. She smiles and leads them off, their animosity instantly gone.)
Scootaloo: Can’t catch me!
(She zips past Bloom, Sweetie, and Terramar, the white swimmer having retreated into a small darkened niche and adopted a critical expression.)
Sweetie: Hmph. Not much sunlight down here, is there?
(Her orange counterpart swims past laughing, followed by the fish and a surge of bubbles. Behind it, wipe to a close-up of a conga drum and a pair of bongos, both constructed from seashells and being played by sea ponies, and zoom out. Scootaloo darts to the bongos and tries her hoof briefly at them during the next line, eventually backing off to join a dance in progress.)
Scootaloo: Boom-batta-boom-batta-boom-batta-boom-batta-boom-batta-boom-batta-boom!
(Another wash of bubbles rises past the camera; behind it, wipe to a long shot of Sweetie floating just above the ocean floor. A fish swims slowly into view toward her.)
Sweetie: No grass to run in— (inspecting her tail) —and no hooves to run on it with. (to the fish) And excuse me, but how do you keep from getting all pruney?
(It shoots her a narrow-eyed glare and hurries away, prompting an annoyed sigh. Pan/tilt down quickly to Scootaloo riding a sea turtle in a sunlit grotto. Laughing, she lets go and drops into a nose dive that carries her down and o.s.; a hearty thud shakes the camera, which tilts down to show her stuck headfirst in the sand. A passing fish watches as she extricates herself and finds the small end of a conch shell in her mouth.)
Scootaloo: (speaking through it, very bubbly) Everything sounds funny down here!
(The fish smiles as bubbles boil up around them; below their trailing edges, wipe to Bloom and Terramar watching a luminescent jellyfish swim away. Here comes Sweetie.)
Sweetie: Okay. I’ve seen everything I need to. So, uh, why don’t we find Twilight Sparkle, finish the chart, and, uh, head back up the mountain? (spinning in place) I have some serious field twirling to do. (She swims off, Scootaloo taking her place without the conch.)
Scootaloo: Where’s she going? (looping around them) I want to stay and swim some more!
(A puzzled shrug passes between Bloom and Terramar. They depart, instantly sinking the young pegasus’ mood, and she heaves a deep sigh and follows them away. Dissolve to a close-up of a seagull pecking grumpily at the sand; a flare of light from o.s. startles it into a hasty exit, and the camera zooms out slightly to frame all five wading up onto the beach. Terramar is a hippogriff again, while the others are back to their quadruped selves. A piercing cry tears the air; cut to Skybeak voicing it as he stands by the steps leading up to the pier. He has shed his gold armor, and a few other adults are gathering in around him.)
Skybeak: Princess Twilight, you’re back! And just in time for the screeching competition.
Twilight: Why not? (to the others) Could be another trophy in my future. (waving) Be back soon!
(She hustles over to take flight with her hosts, leaving Terramar and the fillies on the beach.)
Scootaloo: All right! Let’s add some positives to the Seaquestria side.
Bloom: (nodding) Uh-huh!
(She picks up the group’s comparison sheet, gets the crayon in her teeth, and starts taking notes.)
Scootaloo: Swimming is like flying, multicolor fish, and— (excitedly) —did I mention the flying thing?
(The writing implement is unceremoniously plucked away by Sweetie’s magic as she dryly joins the discussion.)
Sweetie: You forgot the cons. (Now she floats the list over to herself to add a few entries.) Dark, wet, sea monsters—
Scootaloo: I don’t remember any sea monsters. Apple Bloom, looks like it’s up to you.
Bloom: Me? Well…both places have a lotta good things about them. (All three turn to Terramar.) I can understand why it’s hard for you to decide.
Quiet melody of mandolin and synthesizer chords, fast 4 (F major)
Bloom: Your heart is in two places, you can only live in one
(Terramar watches a couple of hippogriffs taking off as fish splash about.)
You’re torn between the hilltops and the tide
Piano in
(Scootaloo and Sweetie join the pair, and all four advance smiling toward the camera.)
Sweetie: Thank goodness that the Cutie Mark Crusaders have begun
To give you hope and help you to decide
Light percussion, strings, bass guitar in; synth/piano out
Mandolin takes over melody with occasional flute flourishes (E flat major)
(Fade to black, then in to a tilt up from behind a bush that frames them in the Harmonizing Heights.)
Sweetie: These hills, they call to you, they say, “Harmonizing Heights,
This is your home, simple and serene”
(All bound down into a meadow.)
The sun-dappled leaves or a mountain terrace
You can see twenty-three different shades of green
Mandolin out; acoustic guitar in
(A flurry of leaves blows past; behind them, wipe to an overhead shot of the four walking through the grasslands and hopping across a stream. Scootaloo’s mood is now souring visibly.)
Sweetie: To dare to compare anywhere to there
Is unfair and just plain wrong
(Birds, fish, and a rabbit frolic by/in/above the water, the screen filling with the last animal’s face and blacking out as it hops toward the camera.)
Colt or mare, or you wear feathers, fins, or hair
(Snap to Sweetie, who twirls to a stop on a ledge overlooking a pair of waterfalls as the others catch up to her.)
This is where you belong
Percussion out and flute/piano in only during spoken interlude (modulate to E major)
Scootaloo: Well, on the other hoof, I can think of a place that’s way more exciting and cool, not to mention more “you”! (taking Terramar’s foreleg, jumping off with him) Come on! You know exactly where I mean!
Driving string/mandolin/bass melody with full percussion
(Tilt down quickly into the water at the base of the falls, where the two splash in as sea ponies and swim away, soon joined by the other Crusaders.)
Scootaloo: Seaquestria’s the most, you’re supposed to be there
Underneath the sea where you can feel at home
(Surges of bubbles shift the view to the two weaving past one another, then to her leaping joyfully from the surface as the sun sets behind her.)
Swimming with your friends, you can spend all day here
Playing in the bay here, splashing in the foam
Half-time feel; mandolin out
(Water drains over the scene, shifting the view to her and Terramar gliding underwater again as a pack of sea turtles passes them.)
Sailing through the wavy blue
You’ll view a slew of tortoises
(One passes the camera up close; behind it, wipe to the four turning in a circle with forelegs joined as a couple of dolphins do likewise overhead.)
Forget the rest, the sea’s the best
For all intents and porpoises
(She trades a high five with one dolphin as Terramar is yanked away by a pair of small white hooves. Pan quickly to him on the receiving end of Sweetie’s intense stare; they are in their land-based forms again, and a zoom out puts them on a clifftop in the Heights.)
Stoptime; mandolin in; half-time feel ends
Sweetie: Build your nest here on Harmonizing Heights
(Birds stream past; now the view shifts to Scootaloo and Terramar underwater.)
Scootaloo: Live it up here in Seaquestria
(Sweetie spins past; wipe behind her to the Heights again.)
Sweetie: Nothing compares to Harmonizing Heights
Stoptime ends
(An eagle soars up from the meadow, quickly replaced by Scootaloo swimming with a school of fish.)
The eagles are regal
Scootaloo: But the schools are cooler
(The bird of prey perches on the unicorn’s foreleg and unleashes a cry; the pegasus follows a dolphin through a loop.)
Sweetie: Their claws are so awesome
Scootaloo: With their sweet maneuvers
Half-time feel
(Sweetie gazes up at the crescent moon in the night sky, a shower of stars shifting the scene to Scootaloo relaxing on the ocean floor and staring up at the glowing eels that pass above her.)
Sweetie: Star wishes every night
Scootaloo: Starfish by eel light
Urgency builds
(Shift quickly from one to the other.)
Sweetie: Better
Scootaloo: Wetter
(Both at once, keeping their respective forms, first in a sunny meadow that irks Scootaloo, then underwater so that Sweetie floats upward while holding her breath.)
Sweetie: Shinier
Scootaloo: Brinier
Half-time feel ends; next four lines spoken in rhythm
(Close-up of Scootaloo, wiping to Sweetie.)
Scootaloo: Seaquestria!
Sweetie: Harmonizing Heights!
(Scootaloo tries to bulldoze her image off the screen, but Sweetie pushes back for a standoff.)
Scootaloo: Seaquestria!
Sweetie: Harmonizing Heights!
Stoptime
(The two panels slide apart to show the fillies—now back on four legs—standing against a background of a pink heart and turning their backs to one another.)
Scootaloo, Sweetie: (sung) That’s it, this is the end, don’t ever talk to me again
Song ends
(On the final note, they cross their forelegs angrily and plunk down their haunches; the background cracks and shatters away to leave them on the beach. Zoom out to show Bloom and Terramar watching them with great concern. Letting his head droop, the hippogriff trudges away between the feuding fillies, who get upright at his passage.)
Bloom: Terramar, where are you goin’? (He stops with a frustrated growl.)
Terramar: If you all can’t even agree amongst yourselves, how am I supposed to make up my mind? It’s hopeless!
(He stomps away, leaving the contrite Crusaders in his wake. All too quickly, the orange and white faces turn away from each other with expressions of mutual disgust as the yellow one dips gloomily toward the sand with eyes closed. Fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of the pier and the train station, zooming in slowly, and cut to a close-up of Scootaloo on the sand.)
Scootaloo: Hmph! (Bloom leans into view behind her.)
Bloom: Sweetie Belle said to tell you it’s your fault that Terramar ran off.
Scootaloo: Well, you tell Sweetie Belle that if it weren’t for her, our mission would’ve been over by now— (turning to glare at her) —and a success!
(She turns her back. Bloom sighs and plods away; cut to her leaning into view behind Sweetie.)
Bloom: Scootaloo says this whole thing is your fault.
Sweetie: (glaring at her) Well, tell her that I’m not the one who dashed all of Terramar’s hopes and made him give up on the world—both worlds!
(She finishes with her back turned to the yellow filly. Another sigh, and Bloom turns back to Scootaloo; now the camera frames all three.)
Bloom: Sweetie Belle says it’s your fault that Terramar ra—oh, wait. I already told you that, didn’t I?
Twilight: (stepping into view) Uh, what’s going on? Where’s Terramar?
(The bad blood evaporates with remarkable speed, replaced by shamefaced expressions and a noticeable failure to look her in the eye when the camera cuts to the Crusaders.)
Bloom: Uh, well, he…he kinda left. He wanted to be by himself.
Scootaloo: (pointedly) Which was not my fault!
Sweetie: (ditto) Mine either! (Cut to Twilight on the start of the next line.)
Twilight: Well, of course not. Why would you think that?
(Having had quite enough of being caught in the middle, Bloom takes a step backwards.)
Scootaloo, Sweetie: (sadly) Because it was our fault.
Scootaloo: All we had to do was help him choose which world to live in.
Sweetie: And we let him down.
Twilight: Whoever said that he had to choose?
Bloom: Well, he did.
Twilight: Hmmm…maybe Terramar is making it harder than it has to be.
Oceanflow: (from o.s.) Yoo-hoo!
(Cut to her and two other sea ponies swimming toward shore.)
Oceanflow: (waving) Princess! We’re having a seashell crafting circle. Care to join us?
Twilight: Actually, we’re right in the middle of—
Skybeak: (descending into view behind her) There you are! (He and two other hippogriffs land by the steps up to the pier.) The flag folding ceremony’s about to begin.
Twilight: (to both) Thank you, really. I’ve had a great time in both places today, but… (whispering, to Crusaders) Wow. This must be how Terramar feels all the time.
Oceanflow: Oh! Hello, Skybeak!
Skybeak: Oceanflow! Heh. You’re looking well.
(Both trios gather at the water’s edge for a round of casual conversation, accompanied by an embrace between Terramar’s parents. The spectacle sets the gears turning in Sweetie’s mind; a bit of thoughtful chin rubbing gives way to a calculating smile.)
Sweetie: Hmmm…this gives me an idea.
(Optimism spreads to the other two young minds and soon yields a grinning three-way hug of reconciliation. Dissolve from the tableau to the Crusaders walking along a different stretch of beach, then cut to a small promontory where Bloom and Scootaloo stop to survey the area.)
Scootaloo: Huh. I thought for sure he came this way.
(Sweetie elbows her way up between the pair, nearly bowling them over, and trains her eyes upward. She gasps after a moment.)
Sweetie: (pointing) He did!
(Zoom out to a long shot that frames the downcast Terramar—perched on a tree branch only a few feet away.)
Terramar: And I’m staying here, too. (His reflection in the water.) That way, I don’t have to be on land or in the water. (Cut to Scootaloo.)
Scootaloo: We’re sorry. We were supposed to help you and—
Sweetie: —we just ended up confusing you more. It’s all our fault.
Terramar: (from o.s., sarcastically) Oh, great! (Cut to frame all four; he now stands on his branch.) You’re sorry, and I’m still confused! I’m staying in my tree.
(As he sits to present his back to the Crusaders, they give each other a thoroughly satisfied grin.)
Bloom: We might have somethin’ worth comin’ down for.
(The feathered white head turns so the blue eyes can regard her with no small measure of uncertainty. Wipe to the Crusaders leading Terramar across the sand.)
Sweetie: We thought we’d get everycreature together for a picnic on the beach. (All stop.)
Scootaloo: And we mean everycreature!
(A scramble of whoops and overjoyed noises drifts out to them, and a camera shift tells the story: sea ponies and hippogriffs have come together for a little fun in the sun. Games, flying, food, drumming, the works—and two plunge into the water as hippogriffs and come up as sea ponies so they can swim out to partake of a picnic laid out on a floating platform. One of the feathered locals wings in to deliver a plate of food. The Crusaders and their new friend walk through the merrymaking, but stop and marvel at the trio of Twilight, Oceanflow, and Skybeak laughing together at the edge of the lapping surf.)
Skybeak: Son! There you are! Your friends told us how you’ve been feeling.
Oceanflow: And we’re sorry if we ever made you think you had to choose between worlds. That wasn’t our intention, honey.
(Big happy grins race from one Crusader’s face to another; now Skybeak leans down gently toward Terramar.)
Skybeak: Your hippogriff heritage is something to be proud of, certainly. (He rests talons across his son’s shoulders; Oceanflow swims up.)
Oceanflow: But you’re more than just where you’re from or who you live with. (foreleg across Terramar’s shoulders) We love you because you’re you— (resting her forehead against his) —no matter where you choose to be.
Skybeak: You don’t have to decide. You can keep doing what you’ve been doing—going back and forth.
Oceanflow: (foreleg across shoulders again) And enjoying both places.
(Letting a chuckle bloom into a full-throated laugh, he bounds into the air, transforms on the fly into a sea pony, and dives into the ocean. Up he comes, switching to hippogriff and back before he hits the water again. One more leap, one more flash, and he lands as his four-legged self between Oceanflow and Skybeak and nuzzles each in turn. The Crusaders cross to them, Bloom carrying a rolled sheet in her teeth.)
Scootaloo: Something we forgot to add that both places have.
(As she speaks, the paper is unfurled—their comparison of the Heights and Seaquestria—and Sweetie brings out the crayon used to fill it out. Both columns are now filled with check marks and X’s; close-up of its top half as a heart is drawn in to enclose both picture headings.)
Scootaloo: (from o.s.) Family and friends who love you. (Bloom sets it down with a smile; cut to the family.)
Terramar: Thanks—for everything. (suddenly puzzled) Hey, uh, are you glowing?
(Zoom out quickly to put the Crusaders in the fore. Sure enough, the emblems on their haunches have started pulsing to indicate “mission accomplished.”)
Crusaders: Yes! We did it! (Twilight crosses to them.)
Twilight: Congratulations. Your first map mission is a success.
Sweetie: Guess that means we’re officially done here. (to Terramar) I hope you come visit your sister in Equestria.
Bloom: Yeah! Come see us! You’ll love it!
Scootaloo: Who knows? You might even want to live there!
(Cocked-eyebrow sidewise glances from Bloom and Sweetie, and a moment’s unease from Twilight.)
Scootaloo: Yeah, that was a joke.
(Smiling, Oceanflow and Skybeak flank their son and walk/swim away along the beach; Terramar leaps into the air and transforms one last time. Freeze frame at the peak of his trajectory and fade to black.)
HORSE PLAY
Written by Kaita Mpambara
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of Canterlot Castle during the day and zoom in slowly.)
Twilight Sparkle: (voice over, excitedly) Princess Celestia, I-I have an idea for your ones-versary!
(Cut to the throne room. Princess Celestia stands in the seat of power, facing Twilight and Spike one level down on the dais. A basket of fruit rests in front of the little dragon.)
Celestia: (puzzled) My ones-versary?
Twilight: The one thousand, one hundred eleventh-year anniversary of when you first raised the sun.
Spike: (gesturing at basket) Good thing Pinkie Pie reminded us. We would’ve forgot to celebrate. (Twilight nods.)
Celestia: You’re not the only ones. What did you have in mind?
Twilight: To commemorate your first sunrise, I’ve written a play. We’d like to perform it at my School of Friendship, if you don’t mind.
(The solar sovereign gives her audience a huge surprise by giggling like a nut and trotting wildly in place for some moments.)
Celestia: Ooh! (Spread wings; stand up to full height.) Mind? (Happy gasp.) Of course not! (leaping to floor, prancing from side to side) Oh, I think a play is a fantastic idea!
Spike: (to Twilight) Did she just…prance? (A solemn nod as Celestia composes herself.)
Celestia: Oh, forgive me for getting so excited. It’s just…when I was a filly, my friends often put on plays.
(On the second half of this line, she crosses to one of the room’s stained-glass windows and magically changes it to show a moving image of a group of foals acting out a scene. Young laughter echoes faintly under her next words.)
Celestia: (wistfully) Oh, it was so wonderful—everypony coming together to create a magical experience to share with others. I’ve always believed theater brings out the best in us and forges a special bond of friendship.
(She reverts the window to normal and Twilight draws a surprised gasp.)
Twilight: I didn’t know you used to act!
Celestia: Oh, not me. I was always too busy with my magic lessons to be part of any plays myself. But still, it’s something I always wished I could experience.
Twilight: And you still can. (bowing) Princess Celestia, we would be honored if you would be the star of our play. (Celestia’s and Spike’s eyes pop.)
Spike: Wait, what?!?
(Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to the three.)
Celestia: (badly rattled) You want me to star in your play?!
Spike: (dryly, to Twilight) Yeah. When did that happen, exactly? (She levitates him off the floor.)
Twilight: (to Celestia) If you’ll excuse us for a second.
(A few steps carry/float them far enough away for a private talk, the next five lines being delivered in hushed tones.)
Twilight: Don’t you see? (He is set down.) It’s perfect! Princess Celestia has always wanted to be in a play, and this one’s about her!
Spike: I guess, but how are we supposed to give her directions? She’s the ruler of Equestria.
Twilight: She’s also our friend. Celestia’s always kind to everypony. So if we have a chance to finally do something for her, we should.
Spike: Hmmm…
Twilight: Come on. How many times has Celestia helped us? (Celestia eases up behind her.) Guided us? Been a warm, calming voice over our shoulder?
Celestia: Twilight.
(A double yell of surprise is the predictable result.)
Twilight: Yes, Princess Celestia?
Celestia: Your invitation is very kind, but are you certain it’s wise? I have no acting experience at all.
Twilight: Experience? Psssh! You’ll be playing yourself, and we’ll all help you. Please? It’d mean so much to the students if you were in our show.
Celestia: Well…if you’re sure…
(The light violet face, meanwhile, has nearly split itself in half with a toothy, hopeful grin. It shifts to a smug little smile as she turns to Spike.)
Spike: (shrugging, smiling) Yeah, what she said.
Celestia: (rearing up, spreading wings) Then I would be delighted to join your theater troupe.
(Dissolve to an amphitheater that stands off to one side of the School of Friendship, seen from roof height. It stands on a lower level of terrain than the plateau on which the main building is constructed, and the vertical face of that raised portion serves as the back wall. Pinkie Pie, seen in a very long shot, drifts down to the ground with the help of a freshly deployed umbrella as a burst of confetti and streamers rains down around her.)
Pinkie: Woo-hoo!
(The camera tilts down slightly to follow her descent, framing the rest of Twilight’s friends working on various tasks on/above the stage. Applejack is painting a cloth backdrop of a night sky; Fluttershy and Starlight Glimmer are checking something at one end of the stage; Rainbow hangs a spotlight; Rarity ha a sewing machine set up and is making costumes, having already filled a wheeled rack. Various other supplies are set up here and there, Pinkie’s party cannon rests on the grass in front of the stage, having just fired into the air, and strings of small lights dangle from the roof. Curved rows of seats face the work n progress. Pinkie touches down, annoying Applejack considerably due to the colorful paper bits that patter into the blond mane/tail and onto the paint job.)
Pinkie: Confetti is ready.
(Standing up to her hind legs for a moment, she pitches the umbrella aside with a joyous whoop; Applejack spits her paintbrush away, the confetti falling from her.)
Applejack: Wormy apple cores, Pinkie! How many times have I told you to keep your special effects away from my sets?
Pinkie: Three hundred twenty-seven. (Pause.) Oh! Unless you just did. Then it’s three hundred twenty-eight.
(Her squeaky grin is met by Applejack’s exasperated groan and eye roll in close-up. On the start of the next line, pan to frame Starlight walking alongside Fluttershy and flipping through a copy of the script held in her field.)
Starlight: I can’t believe you’ve memorized your lines already, Fluttershy!
Fluttershy: Once you get past terrifying, paralyzing stage fright, the rest is easy. Now I just hope Princess Celestia says we can do our play.
(A scoff from the o.s. Rarity as Starlight nods; pan quickly to the white unicorn. This shot is close enough to pick out the measuring tape that hangs from her shoulders.)
Rarity: (pushing rack toward them) As soon as she sees these fabulous costumes, all she’ll be able to say is “Brava!”
(As Rainbow continues rigging up the lights and Pinkie starts rooting around inside the barrel of her cannon, Twilight and Spike make their way down the aisle that runs between the seating sections.)
Rainbow: Heads up! Here comes our answer! (She drops to a hover above the others; Pinkie climbs out. Starlight has put away her script.)
Twilight: Wonderful news, everypony!
Applejack: (rearing up briefly) Yee-haa! We get to put on our show?
Twilight: Even better. Princess Celestia’s gonna be our star!
(The five mares on/above the stage voice a unison gasp of pure disbelief.)
Spike: (dryly) Yeah, that’s how I felt too.
Rainbow: (excitedly) Celestia? Starring in our play? This is huge!
Twilight: Well, she was a little nervous at first, but I told her not to worry. With us helping, it’ll all go smooth as—
Rarity: (panicked) Silk!
(She darts away, the tape dropping from her shoulders, and starts digging frantically through a trunk filled with fabric scraps.)
Rarity: I must find the silk! If Celestia’s going to be in our play, we have to take everything up to the next level!
(Cut to the rack; her magic yanks all the garments off the hangers and stuffs them into a handy trash can.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) None of these old ideas will do! (Pinkie emerges halfway from it in a confetti blast.)
Pinkie: Yeah! (throwing a couple aside) Forget my regular party cannon. For princess-size effects, we’re gonna need Big Bertha!
(Almost as soon as she drops back into the can, she is rolling a ridiculously long-barreled artillery piece in front of the stage. This monstrosity is striped in two shades of deep pink and has yellow edging at the joints holding it the barrel together.)
Applejack: (growling) PINKIE!
Pinkie: (innocently) What?
Rainbow: (to Twilight) Our play is gonna be amazing! I gotta tell everypony I know— (winking) —and even the ones I don’t!
(She exits the scene straight up, setting off a Sonic Rainboom for good measure.)
Applejack: (to the others) Why in tarnation are y’all gettin’ so starstruck? We’ve met Princess Celestia before, plenty of times.
Starlight: Those were formal things. Galas, world saving—this is different! (Close-up.) Imagine doing sweaty warm-ups with a princess. (She levitates a handkerchief to wipe her nose.) Blowing your nose in front of a princess. (Send it away.) Sitting around just… (fearfully) …talking with a princess.
Twilight: (from o.s.) I’m a princess. (Cut to frame her, Starlight, and Spike.) You talk to me. (Grin.)
Starlight: (airily) That’s different. You’re not a princess princess.
Twilight: (sourly) Uh, thanks. (smiling; Rarity rejoins the others on the stage) Celestia wants to experience the special friendship that theater ponies have. (Cut to Applejack/Fluttershy/Rarity/Starlight; she continues o.s.) To give her that, you just need to be yourselves.
Fluttershy: (very slightly scared) You…you really think so?
Applejack: (pacing, chuckling) Ah, quit frettin’. It’s only a couple of pals gettin’ together to put on a ones-versary play. What could go wrong?
(Dissolve to a long shot of the amphitheater. Curtains have been drawn closed, leaving only a lectern visible at stage right, and both the “Big Bertha” cannon and Pinkie’s regular one have been taken away. Twilight and Spike sit side by side in director’s chairs to face the stage, and Spike uses a megaphone to amplify his voice. From this distance, a purple beret is visible on his head.)
Spike: Places, everypony! We’re here to rehearse A New Day in Equestria!
(Head-on close-up of the pair; he has also donned a white dress shirt and tan pants, and the edges of a magenta vest, a darker-shaded necktie, and dark gray shoes are visible behind the megaphone. Twilight clears her throat pointedly, prompting him to throw her a nasty look and bring the item to his lips again.)
Spike: Directed, written, and produced by Twilight Sparkle. (She beams and conjures up a copy of the script.)
Twilight: Page one, Act One, Scene One! Action!
(As the camera zooms in on the stage, the curtains open to expose Fluttershy stepping to front center. A trapdoor is set into the planks directly behind her, and the night-sky backdrop Applejack was painting has been hung up still farther back. It is now clean of Pinkie’s confetti.)
Fluttershy: Once upon a time, before Celestia, Equestria was suffering terrible hardship.
(Five of the mares’ six students emerge from the wings, all in variously colored/decorated robes/manes/tails and with unicorn horns strapped to their foreheads. Ocellus, Smolder, and Yona enter from stage right, Gallus and Silverstream from stage left; Gallus wears booties on all four limbs to match his robe. They end up in a loose semicircle behind the trapdoor.)
Fluttershy: Raising the sun every morning was so hard, it took five great sorcerers plus Starswirl the Bearded to do it.
(On the end of this, she backs o.s. to stage right so Sandbar can enter across from her. He is garbed as the great mage, with a horn and appropriately colored fake mane/tai/beard/mustache. One after another, the six lower their horns and strain as if trying to cast a mighty spell. Fluttershy, now standing at the lectern, directs a nod past them that is picked up by Pinkie, who stands at a control panel in the wings behind Sandbar. A pull on a lever opens the trapdoor and starts a large yellow/orange-tiled sphere rising slowly out of it on a pole. Longer shot of the stage, leaving Fluttershy out of view; the six slowly raise their horns as if directing the great orb into the heavens.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) And every day, the unicorns helping Starswirl would use so much magic— (It stops; all but Sandbar keel over.) —they lost their powers forever. (Close-up; slow pan.) Things looked bleak. Soon, Equestria would lose all its magic users!
(During this last sentence, Gallus cracks one eye open, struggles not to laugh at Silverstream’s goofy expression with eyes crossed and tongue hanging out, and manages to play dead again. The hippogriff catches on and snaps her own eyes closed. Back to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: (dramatically) Then, the land would be covered in darkness for eternity.
(She throws a wink to Pinkie, who pulls a second lever to retract the ersatz sun and close the hatch.)
Twilight: (to Spike) Even I can’t believe how good my play is! The sets, the props, the outfits—they’re all great! (Spike nods.)
Spike: And…here comes the best part.
(The next shot frames Fluttershy and Sandbar, with Celestia waiting in the wings at stage right.)
Fluttershy: But then, a student named Celestia discovered she had the power to raise the sun herself without draining her magic.
(During this line, the Princess grins and waves to Sandbar, then emerges onto the stage at his answering nod. Her next grin/wave are aimed at the o.s. Twilight, but no words are forthcoming for some short time. When the camera cuts to Twilight and Spike, the former has done away with her script.)
Twilight: Um…that’s your cue, Celestia!
Celestia: Oh! (Laugh.) Right. Of course.
(After clearing her throat, she continues in a tone soft enough to make Fluttershy sound like a bellowing foghorn by comparison. Despite the lack of decibels, she still manages to ham it up.)
Celestia: It is time for a new day in Equestria.
(Director and assistant trade hopelessly confused looks.)
Spike: Um, what?
Celestia: (normal volume) Oh, I-I-I said… (softly) …“It is time for a new day in Equestria.”
(Now Twilight’s face is so slack with shock that it might fall clear off her skull—but she somehow gets it under control and into a humoring smile.)
Twilight: And your delivery was…great! But maybe you should try it a tiny bit louder, for the ponies in the back row.
Celestia: (normal volume, laughing) Oh, yes, yes, my Royal Canterlot Voice. Thank you for the reminder, Twilight.
(The six students gather in around her, just in time to take the full brunt of her booming voice and get knocked silly all over again. Twilight and Spike fare no better, and much of the surrounding countryside does a little dancing of its own to boot.)
Celestia: IT IS TIME FOR A NEW DAY IN EQUESTRIA!!
(Birds are spooked into flight as the echoes fade away; on the stage, Sandbar woozily crawls a foot or two toward her before collapsing.)
Celestia: (normal volume) Oh! (laughing) Goodness! This theater does have strong acoustics. M-My apologies. I’m still learning to hone my craft.
(Down on the grass, Twilight has come up in a hover and is telekinetically setting her chair upright. Spike is taking care of his own the hard way, having dropped his megaphone.)
Twilight: (as both sit) No, no, you’re doing…fine! Why don’t we try it one more time, just like you’re talking to me? (The students stagger upright and away.)
Celestia: (stilted) It is time for a new day in Equestria.
Twilight: A bit more energy.
Celestia: (very quickly) It’s time for a new day in Equestria!
(The faces of Applejack, Pinkie, and Starlight poke out from the wings, set in grimaces of shock and horror.)
Celestia: (normal cadence) Uh, how was that? (Close-up; zoom out to frame the approaching Applejack on the start of the next line.)
Applejack: Uh, honestly—
(She gets cut off abruptly when Twilight teleports onto the stage with a forced grin and claps a hoof over her mouth.)
Twilight: Great! Wow! It’s hard to believe you’ve never done this before! Let’s move on to the dance number!
(She completely misses the caustic glare coming her way from the apple farmer. Dissolve to a close-up of Spike on the stage, his back to the seats, and waving his fingers to keep time. The camera then shifts to an overhead shot that frames the seven actors lined up across the width of the backdrop, Celestia at one end. An urgent old-time piano melody is playing in a fast 4.)
Spike: (in rhythm, miming named actions) Again! Step, buck, leap, touch! Again! Step, buck, leap touch!
(“Touch” involves planting all extremities on the stage at once. The students quickly catch on to the sequence, but Celestia is hopelessly out of sync.)
Spike: Got it? Moving on! (in rhythm) Five, six, seven, eight!
(Cut to the wings, stage left, on the end of this. A worried Starlight approaches Twilight, who has floated up the script for a quick read. Out in front, the rickety dance rehearsal goes on, with Celestia no longer making any effort to duplicate their moves.)
Celestia: (even more stilted than before) Come on, Starswirl! Throw off that musty hat and let’s have a—a dance!
(A quick nip, and she has tossed Sandbar’s hat to land on one of the levers Pinkie was using to control the prop sun. Twilight and Starlight start in fright as its weight engages the mechanism, opening the trapdoor under the students and dropping them out of sight with a six-part yell as the music stops. There follows a loud crash, a cloud of dust, and a shower of orange shards that marks the destruction of the sphere. The view slowly clears to show the hapless scholars below the stage, groaning amid a scramble of mussed wigs and costumes, bent prop horns, and the debris of the wrecked set piece. Celestia has escaped the ignominious plunge.)
Celestia: Oh, dear. (addressing herself o.s.) I think we have a problem!
Applejack: (whispering, to Twilight/Starlight) Yeah. Our lead actress is a disaster!
(Fade to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie, Rarity, Starlight, and Spike backstage. Twilight paces back and forth past them, hyperventilating to beat the band and no longer toting her script.)
Twilight: What are we gonna do? If I tell Celestia she’s terrible, it’ll hurt her feelings and I’ll be a bad friend. But if I keep her in the show, she’ll be the laughingstock of Equestria and I’ll be a worse friend!
Applejack: (stepping forward) You need to tell Celestia the truth, Twilight.
Twilight: (sardonically) Any other suggestions?
Spike: Why don’t we just cancel the show? (Twilight leans into his face.)
Twilight: (acidly) Real suggestions?
Spike: No, think about it. (Twilight backs off.) Right now, most of Equestria doesn’t even know we’re doing a ones-versary play. If we shut it down—
Rarity: (catching on) —nopony will ever miss it! (Pan slowly across the group on the next line.)
Starlight: So they’ll never find out Princess Celestia’s a bad actress!
Fluttershy: And she won’t be embarrassed! (Stop on her and Pinkie, who is trotting gleefully in place but stops.)
Pinkie: Ah! It’s the perfect plan!
Rainbow: (from o.s.) All right! (She swoops in above the group.) I just finished telling everypony to come to our play!
Twilight: (stricken) You…did?
Rainbow: Yeah! You shoulda seen how excited they got when they found out Celestia was in it! They said they’d tell their friends, and then their friends would tell their friends—everypony in Equestria’s gonna see this thing!
(Finally taking notice of the dismayed expressions that have rooted themselves onto the other faces, she settles to the stage and turns to face Twilight.)
Rainbow: Uh, did I miss something?
Twilight: Just a bright light of hope being snuffed. But that’s okay. (resolutely, stomping the stage) If we can’t cancel the show, I know what I have to do.
Applejack: (pointedly) Be honest with Celestia and give the lead role to somepony else?
Twilight: Not a chance.
Applejack: Twilight, you know truth is a huge part of friendship.
Twilight: And so is making another pony’s dreams come true. Look. I promised Celestia that this time she could be a part of the play, instead of just watching it. And I plan to keep that promise.
Fluttershy: But…how?
(Dissolve to a long shot of the School and zoom in slowly.)
Celestia: (voice over) You want to give me acting lessons?
(Cut to her, Twilight, and Spike walking along a hallway inside. Spike has shed his director outfit.)
Twilight: (hastily) No, no, no, no, no, no, no. (Laugh; normal cadence.) More like a special workshop with other actors, to…take your performance from good to flawless. (Spike shoots her a concerned look.)
Celestia: Thank you so much, Twilight! This is what I always knew theater must be about—that special stage-pony bond of shared trust and honesty. (They arrive at a set of closed doors.)
Spike: (forcing a smile) Yeah! (Chuckle; glare at Twilight.) That’s what it is.
(He clears his throat as his boss’s magic wraps around the doorknobs; cut to the other side as they swing open. This is Twilight’s lecture hall, as seen near the end of Part Two of “School Daze,” and two other ponies are already present on the stage in front of its blackboard—members of the Method Mares troupe seen in “Made in Manehattan.” One is Onstage, the gray earth pony stallion in an overcoat and turtleneck, while the other is Raspberry Beret, the pink mare in a turtleneck and magenta beret.)
Twilight: Princess Celestia, meet Method Mare performers Onstage and Raspberry Beret!
(Each dips his/her head upon being named, and in short order Celestia is descending to them.)
Onstage: (overdone French accent, as he and Raspberry bow) Avec pleasure, Your Majesty.
Celestia: (slightly awestruck) The pleasure is all mine. (Laugh.) If there’s anything I can do to become a better Equestrian thespian, I will. What do you have planned?
Onstage: (in his normal British accent) Well, I thought we’d make it up as we go along… (Chuckle.) …otherwise known as… (overdone French; he and Raspberry strike a pose) …improvisation!
Raspberry: Yes, and we can start as soon as we get out of this box.
(Recall that her accent is similar to his. As she finishes, both she and Onstage start to circle in place, poking their front hooves against a set of imaginary walls that have them closely penned in on all sides.)
Celestia: (confusedly, circling behind them) What box?
(On the sidelines, Twilight voices a queasy little moan while Spike uses a quill and clipboard to take notes. Wipe to the rest of the gang, save Pinkie, to either side of the open trapdoor on the stage. Pink hooves toss chunks of the smashed prop sun up from below. A few houses have been constructed to stage right as a background.)
Twilight: (trotting into view, moaning fretfully) How’s it going over here?
Rainbow: (pointing at pieces) That sun will never rise again. (Below stage level; all six peer in worriedly as Pinkie straightens up to face them.)
Pinkie: That’s why I have something even better!
(One fluid blur of motion allows her to climb out; cut to the group as she pulls one end of a long string into view. A gargantuan yellow balloon tied to the other end drifts into view above the mares.)
Rarity: (gasping happily) It’s the perfect substitute!
(But only for the short time it takes to float up and burst against the stalactites that project from the natural-rock ceiling. The balloon sounds off like the world’s largest whoopee cushion as the contents rush out, and it veers crazily overhead before dropping neatly through the trapdoor. Now the camera has backed up far enough to pick out the cans of paint standing by the house backdrops.)
Rarity: (faintly) It was the perfect substitute.
(Twilight lets go with an exasperated sigh and stalks away. Wipe to her lecture hall; she poofs in here to sit next to Spike, who is still taking notes as Celestia, Onstage, and Raspberry continue their work down in front.)
Twilight: (to Spike) Please give me something to be happy about!
(The baby dragon gestures silently with his quill.)
Onstage: Let’s try… (Brainstorm; happy gasp.) …visualization! (Deep breath; point toward Celestia/Raspberry) And…you’re skiing!
(Cut to these two. His fellow actor quickly shifts gears, rising to her hind legs and swaying back and forth as if maneuvering down a slope, but Celestia just stares dumbly at her.)
Raspberry: Whoosh! Whoosh! (on one leg) Oh, it’s so snowy today. (shivering) Brr! I’m getting chilly! (Laugh.)
Celestia: Should I get you a blanket?
Onstage: (from o.s.) All aboard!
(Cut to him, sitting on a chair and tapping a second one.)
Onstage: (as Celestia sits) The Ponyville Express is leaving the station! (imitating train sounds) Woo-woo! Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chug! (Cut to Celestia on the end of this.)
Celestia: It is? But I don’t see anything. (Raspberry comes up on her other side.)
Raspberry: Let’s be weeping willows in the wind! (on hind legs, bending back and forth) We are strong in adversity, yet supple as we bow to fate. (Drop to her hocks.)
Onstage: (to Celestia) Well, what do you feel?
Celestia: Nnnnn-nothing. (Sudden realization.) Oh! The classroom floor under my hooves! (Twilight cringes…) Does that count?
(…and claps a hoof to her face in undiluted disbelief. Cut to Pinkie at the backstage trapdoor controls; she is reading the script, but throws it aside with a big grin the moment Twilight teleports in next to her.)
Twilight: (flatly) Do I want to know?
(The pink pony yanks a lever down, triggering a single enormous marshmallow to rise from the open trapdoor on the pole that had supported the prop sun. The other mares are busy at various jobs around the stage.)
Pinkie: Wait for it…
(“It,” in this case, involves the sugary mass catching fire and throwing flaming flecks all over the place. Some strike and char the backdrop houses Applejack is painting.)
Applejack: (snarling, with growing rage) Pinkie Pie!
(She snatches the handle of a nearby water bucket in her teeth and slings the contents over the marshmallow, dousing it to leave only a lump of charcoal impaled on the pole. The gout of excess liquid arcs across the stage and catches both Twilight and Pinkie in the face.)
Pinkie: Whaaat? It’s realistic! The sun is just like a burning marshmallow!
(Big grin. Wipe to a close-up of a badly rattled Spike in the lecture hall. Onstage’s hind legs are visible to one side of him, and a soaked Twilight steps up on the other to drip on his head. He glances up at her as the camera zooms out and she uses a quick spell to dry herself out. Cut to Celestia and Raspberry on the stage and zoom in slowly, the Princess gesticulating expansively as the actor sits facing her.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) What are they doing now? (Cut to frame all five; Raspberry is completely lost.)
Spike: (sighing) The simplest acting exercise they could think of—a game of charades. (Back to Celestia.)
Raspberry: (from o.s.) A puppy…a duckbilled platypus… (Back to her.) …antidisestablishmentarianism! Oh, I give up! What?!?
Celestia: (smiling) My love for Equestria and all the ponies in it! Twilight— (Raspberry puts a fed-up hoof to her face.) —you felt what I was emoting, didn’t you?
Twilight: (very hesitantly, forcing a big shaky smile) Yeah!
Spike: (dryly, to Onstage) Now that’s the best acting we’ve seen all day.
(Dissolve to a long shot of the amphitheater, the curtains closed to leave only the lectern visible at stage right. Night has fallen, and Princess Luna makes her way down the aisle to sit among the audience, which is of considerable size and murmuring expectantly. Backstage, Twilight has twitched one curtain aside far enough to get a good look at the packed house.)
Twilight: (slightly unhinged) Okay!
(She paces past Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow, Rarity, Starlight, and Spike with quill/scroll in hand.)
Twilight: I tried, and tried, and tried. But we have to face facts. We can’t make Celestia an actress, so there’s only one thing to do!
Applejack: Tell her the truth, finally? (Twilight’s eyes shrink to points.)
Twilight: No!
(She darts away, missing the five mares’ defeated sighs, and conjures up a copy of the script while standing by the trapdoor controls.)
Twilight: I’ve rewritten the script to give Celestia a more artistic part, with no lines. (Pinkie stretches her head into view.)
Pinkie: And to make sure the show’s a hit— (Script poofs away; she hops to the panel.) —I’ve whipped up the biggest, bestest, flashiest fake sun EVER!
(On the end of this, she jumps up and yanks one lever to send a glare of white light spilling over herself and Twilight from somewhere out of view. Twilight gasps, the other six do likewise when the camera cuts to them, and a longer shot of the entire stage reveals the reason: a gigantic ball of lit fireworks, sloppily taped together and hanging from the rafters above the now-closed trapdoor. Applejack has repaired the damage done to her backdrop-house paint job by the flaming marshmallow, which has been removed.)
Twilight: (uneasily) Uh, Pinkie, that looks…unsafe.
Pinkie: Why would untested magic fireworks that I bought in a back alley from Trixie at midnight be unsafe?
(The violet Princess can muster no answer before the whole mess ignites in a blinding flash and a wall of smoke. Ponies and dragon bug out to avoid stopping bottle rockets with their faces, the pyrotechnics bursting to yield showers of sparks in various colors and designs. Twilight glances fearfully upward to find one final leviathan of a rocket emblazoned with Trixie’s cutie mark, hanging from the ceiling with the fuse burning fast. Cut to an extreme close-up of her panic-stricken face, one eye squinched shut and the spark reflected in the other. Out in the audience, Luna is having a pleasant chat with Fleur when a muffled explosion from behind the curtains very nearly tears them off, shaking the entire stage and the vicinity. It is accompanied by a roll of smoke, scorch marks that stain the stage from beneath the curtain, and several muted yells of fright.)
(Cut to a screenful of haze, which clears to give an extreme close-up of Twilight lying on the stage floor and coughing to clear her lungs. Most of her horn is badly charred and smoking, and a longer shot tells that most of the stage setup has fared exactly as well. As Twilight sits up to her haunches, a wall of sparks styled as Trixie’s smugly grinning face—framed by her wizard’s hat and cape collar—drifts down and faces away behind her. As for the others: Fluttershy huddles in terror, hooves over eyes as Starlight tries to comfort her. A hovering Rainbow stares at the smoldering remains of the backdrop houses, which Applejack gallops in to extinguish with a bucket of water. Rarity blows out a small flame licking at her rack of costumes. Spike has ended up clutching at one of the overhead spotlights. Another one crashes down to the stage; in close-up, Pinkie leans in to blow the smoke and soot away from the shell-shocked Twilight’s horn as the camera zooms in slowly. An eye twitch yields to a scowl of purest fury, which in turn gives way to a feral scream at the top of her lungs that prompts the others to start backing away.)
Twilight: I can’t take it anymore! (stomping) It was supposed to be a simple play! Just one simple play! And then everything goes wrong, from the stage to the props, right down to the WORST LEAD ACTRESS IN EQUESTRIA!!
(She heaves for breath as the night-sky backdrop gives up the ghost and slithers off its supports to pool on the stage. Cut to the other seven, gathered off to one side and gasping in fright, then back to Twilight. Catching on to the vibe that something might be very, very wrong, she pivots to check behind herself and finds a poleaxed Celestia waiting in the wings. She gasps deeply and tries to keep herself from bursting into tears, the camera zooming in slowly before the view fades to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the entire group, a gobsmacked Celestia advancing slowly toward her fellow Princess.)
Celestia: Twilight, if you honestly felt I was a bad actress, why didn’t you tell me?
Twilight: I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to insult your acting! It’s just I…I got so stressed! (She huddles down before Celestia’s gimlet-eyed glare.) But that’s no excuse for what I said. You have every right to be upset with me.
Celestia: (sharply) I’m not upset because you insulted my acting. (Twilight stands up.)
Twilight: You’re not?
Celestia: I’m upset because in all the time we’ve known each other, I thought I taught you about the importance of friendship, trust, and honesty! (She takes wing and departs.)
Twilight: Celestia! Wait! (She tries to follow, only for Pinkie to tackle her out of the air.)
Pinkie: No! You can’t fly away now! (pointing toward curtain) Look!
(Cut to Fluttershy, who has pulled the edge of the curtains back for a nervous peek at the audience.)
Fluttershy: Ponies are taking their seats for the show!
Rainbow: (laughing, pulling her head back from another gap) Standing room only! Did I do a good job of advertising for this thing or what?
(Sour looks from Applejack, Rarity, Starlight, and Spike take the starch out of her in a blink.)
Rainbow: Sorry.
Starlight: We can’t put on a show with no lead actress!
Applejack: (to Twilight, helping her up) You go find Celestia. We’ll figure out a way to stall this thing ’til you get back.
(Her confidence restored, the violet mare lifts off and flaps away after her mentor; cut to Applejack and Pinkie watching her go.)
Spike: (from o.s., sarcastically) Good luck. (Cut to him looking through the curtain; he lets it drop back.) Nopony’s gonna volunteer to try to tame that.
(The remaining mares slowly hem him in from all sides, Rainbow and Rarity fixing him with knowing looks at uncomfortably close range.)
Rarity: Nopony, indeed.
(Finding himself well and truly caught, the little guy grimaces and does his best to swallow down his fear even as sweat begins to trickle down his face. Cut to him out in front of the curtain, a spotlight pinning him in place as surely as if his feet were riveted to the stage. The spectators have gone dead silent.)
Spike: So… (Chuckle; clear throat.) …uh…who likes juggling?
(He produces half a dozen bowling pins from behind his back with a forced, terrified grin. Dissolve to a patch of night sky and pan slowly as Twilight bursts upward through a cloud.)
Twilight: Princess Celestia! (Zoom out slightly; she is some distance back from Celestia.) Please wait! Can we talk?
Celestia: I’m afraid I haven’t much to say, Twilight.
(She zooms ahead, but Twilight wastes no time in pulling even.)
Twilight: All right, then, just listen. You’ve guided me since I was a filly. You’ve given me knowledge, and advice, and friendship. Just once, I wanted to be able to give something back to you. (Celestia flicks an eye back toward her; she moves closer.) I know what I did was wrong. I should’ve told you the truth. But I promised you could be in our play. (circling to Celestia’s other side) I-I had to make it work. Nothing would make me feel worse than knowing I disappointed you.
Celestia: You really mean that?
(A moment’s ascent, and she has knocked through a cloud from below and sat on it; Twilight pops up a moment later.)
Twilight: Of course! (sitting to face her) I look up to you more than anypony I’ve ever met. I hate to let you down—like I did.
Celestia: (sighing heavily) You had good intentions, Twilight. But you know that the truth is always better than a well-meant lie. Didn’t Applejack remind you?
Twilight: (sighing) About a hundred times. And now, because I didn’t listen to her, I’ve ruined your whole ones-versary.
Celestia: (smiling) Well, I don’t know about that. Isn’t there an old saying—“the show must go on”? (standing) There may be a way for us to save the play yet. (Twilight follows suit.)
Twilight: But how? I mean, if I’m being completely honest… (An almighty grimace.) …you’re not an actress. (Strained grin.)
Celestia: No, but I am a princess.
(Wipe to a length of closed curtain, through which Spike bursts into view in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid the tomatoes being flung his way by the booing crowd on the far side. He winds up sprawled out on his face and has lost his bowling pins.)
Spike: Good news—free food!
(And with that, he pulls the splattered remains of one fruit off his head and chomps it down.)
Spike: Bad news—this play is officially a disaster.
(The next words draw all eyes toward the backstage entrance, where Twilight and Celestia are ambling in.)
Celestia: Fortunately, I know a thing or two about how to deal with those.
Starlight: (relieved) You came back!
Celestia: Yes, but let’s celebrate later. Right now, we have a show to do!
Rarity: But—but—but how? The audience is about to riot! We have no backdrop! And our lead actress is—
(Pinkie corks the incipient meltdown with a hoof and lets Rarity see her flick two scared blue eyes in Celestia’s direction and back. The meaning is all too clear: “don’t finish that sentence if you know what’s good for you!” After the hoof is removed, Rarity stammers her way to a halt with one of the shakiest grins ever to cross her face.)
Celestia: —no longer in that role. (all business) Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Twilight, go calm the audience. Let them know the play will start in just a minute.
(Twilight teleports away as the other three named mares trot purposefully off.)
Celestia: Rainbow Dash, bring us some clouds and place them behind the stage.
(Rainbow nods and flies out the backstage entrance; within seconds, she has made several round trips to deposit enough clouds back here for a pile that stands at least twice Celestia’s height. Spike watches the deliveries, now clean of tomato residue from the audience’s earlier pelting.)
Celestia: There. That’s our new backdrop. Starlight, do you have a copy of the script? (Starlight conjures one up…) Spike, you narrate the play. (…and crosses to Spike with it.)
(He catches it with a smile. Now Fluttershy is the only pony who has not yet moved.)
Celestia: Fluttershy will be our new lead.
Fluttershy: (increasingly unnerved) Oh, my. Me? Playing you? While you watch me playing you? Oh, no. Oh, no. (sitting on haunches) I think my stage fright is coming back.
(She pulls out a paper bag and starts to hyperventilate into it.)
Celestia: Visualize with me. (Fluttershy calms down, drops the bag, and closes her eyes.) You’re a princess. (Zoom in slowly.) Regal. Commanding. Confident. Feel the rising sun’s warmth. (A small smile on the yellow face as Celestia taps her.) Equestria needs you.
(The blue-green eyes open and Fluttershy—now much more composed—nods serenely up at her. Wipe to a long shot of the stage, the improvised cloud backdrop visible through the opening curtains. Spike stands near stage right, a few feet from the lectern at that end, and is no longer carrying his script. Zoom in slowly; the original night-sky backdrop and houses are gone, and Twilight and Celestia become visible in the wings just behind the lectern.)
Spike: (crossing to it) Once upon a time, before Celestia— (Spotlights flick on.) —Equestria was suffering a terrible hardship. (Close-up as he reaches it.) Raising the sun every morning was so hard that it took five unicorn sorcerers plus Starswirl the Bearded to do it.
(On the end of this line, the six students emerge onto the stage. All but Sandbar are in the same groupings and locations as they were in the Act One rehearsal, while he walks in at center through the massed clouds. Their costumes are rather the worse for wear after all the rehearsal mishaps, and the audience yuks it up heartily at their bedraggled appearance.)
Mare: You call those great sorcerers?
Twilight: (to Celestia) Oh, no! Hecklers! What should we do?
(Sweat streams down Spike’s face as he looks desperately to his notes for guidance; Celestia leans in close as the jeering subsides.)
Celestia: (whispering) Spike! Improvise! (She backs off; he gets himself under control.)
Spike: (to audience) Uh, yes! And…uh…raising the sun each day was super-draining. But you can see that for yourselves, right? I mean…
(Cut to a slow pan along the youths, who seem to be taking this in stride.)
Spike: (from o.s.) …do these six guys look beat-up or what? Starswirl’s so stressed, he’s got kinks in his horn!
(Cut to the audience as they voice another round of laughter, this one free of malice.)
Spike: (from o.s.) But that’s okay.
(Back to the six; now Fluttershy advances regally through their ranks, wearing scaled-down copies of Celestia’s tiara, necklace, and shoes and a white horn. Her mane/tail have been dusted with tiny stars and dyed to match the pastel hues of the real McCoy.)
Spike: (from o.s.) ’Cause it turns out Celestia had the special power to raise the sun all by herself!
Fluttershy: It’s time for a new day in Equestria!
(She holds a confident pose, but it dissolves into apprehension after nothing happens for a long moment.)
Twilight: (to Celestia, groaning) In all the commotion, we forgot we don’t have a sun! What do we do?
Celestia: (smiling) We play charades.
(As Fluttershy grimaces and begins to shake in her gold shoes, the sovereign raises her face and one foreleg toward the sky. The pegasus follows suit; cut to the audience as a warm light spreads slowly to envelop them. Murmurs of awe and appreciation ripple through the seats as the camera cuts to a long shot of the amphitheater—and the actual sun rising over the hills behind it. Backstage, Twilight beams up at Celestia, whose horn is aglow to kick off the new day just a bit ahead of schedule; the crowd now cheers and squeals with delight, including all four members of the Method Mares.)
Onstage: (to Raspberry) My goodness! I had no idea this production would have such elaborate special effects!
(Once the sun has fully risen, a flare of white shifts the view to an extreme close-up of Celestia’s hooves stepping through the loose roses that now lie scattered across the stage. On the start of the next line, cut to frame her and the approaching others and zoom out slowly.)
Celestia: Judging by how many flowers the audience threw, it seems our play was a success. (She levitates and bundles a few.)
Fluttershy: I just feel bad you never got a chance to actually be in it.
Celestia: You shouldn’t. (Cut to Fluttershy; she continues o.s., floating the roses to her.) I never felt I had to be onstage to be a part of the show. (Back to her.) All I ever wanted was to share an honest bond of creativity, artistry, and happiness with my friends, and that’s exactly what I got to do.
Twilight: Thank you for saving our play, Princess Celestia.
Celestia: You’re welcome, Twilight. But from now on, none of you will have to call me “Princess” anymore. (Mild consternation among the group.)
Twilight, Spike: Huh?
Spike: Wait, what? We don’t?
Celestia: No. I had so much fun tonight, I’ve decided to give up my crown, step down from the throne, and devote all of my time to the theater!
Twilight: (sputtering badly) You…what?!
(Celestia leans down to her with a wink and smile.)
Celestia: Gotcha! Maybe I’m not such a bad actress after all.
(She backs off, a smile returning to the violet face. Cut to a long shot of the stage, zooming out slowly as all share a good laugh over the prank. A set of curtains is pulled shut over the scene, and the view fades to black.)
THE PARENT MAP
Written by Dave Rapp
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a stretch of clear early-morning sky punctuated by the rise of the Crystal Castle’s spire in the background. Pan/tilt down to the Crystal Empire street intersection in which the statue honoring Spike’s rescue of the Crystal Heart stands. A uniformed mail carrier stallion trots to the front door of a particular house; he knocks in a closer shot, retrieves a letter from his saddlebags, and passes it over to the mare who answers. She grins and gives him a carrot in return; taking it in his mouth, he tips his cap to her and continues on his route as she shuts the door.)
(Cut to a long shot of Sunburst’s house, resembling a beat-up wizard’s hat as seen in “The Crystalling.” The mail carrier approaches, chewing the last of the carrot, and all his good cheer evaporates the moment he catches sight of the unorthodox dwelling. A glance back at the bags informs him of a wax-sealed letter on top of the piled contents; he rolls his eyes with an irritated sigh, slaps on a big fake grin, and proceeds along the front walk and up the stoop. His polite knock at the door yields no response for some seconds, so he repeats the summons with considerably more force. This time, he is rewarded with a series of muffled crashes and thumps from within and the door begins to swing open. Cut to just inside, the knob wreathed in the occupant’s magic; the door opens to expose the carrier, but an open book held in Sunburst’s aura drifts into view to hide him. This is Sunburst’s perspective; a loud-throat clearing, and the now-annoyed carrier pushes the literature down and out of the way.)
Carrier: ’Morning, Sunburst. (Longer shot, framing both.)
Sunburst: What?…Oh! (closing book, chuckling sheepishly) Hi! You know, no matter how many times I read it— (The carrier; he floats it closer; continuing o.s.) —Houyhnhmn’s Guide to Magical Arcana never gets boring. (It is pushed back.)
Carrier: If you say so.
(The second word of the book title is pronounced “Whin-num.” The carrier picks the letter from his bags with his teeth and holds it out in a hoof.)
Carrier: I’ve got another letter for you— (Sunburst is back to his reading.) —from Sire’s Hollow.
Sunburst: (floating it away, retreating into house) Mmm-hmm. Sure thing.
(The carrier holds out a hoof with an ingratiating grin, but gets nothing for his trouble except the door slammed in his face. Sighing wearily, he departs to continue his rounds. Inside, the letter is tossed onto a very tall pile of others identically marked as Sunburst ambles past, completely absorbed in this bit of research. So much so, in fact, that only a head-on collision with a book stand jolts him back to reality; he shifts the book onto it and carries on, only to stop short at a pulsing flash that begins to emanate from somewhere below its bottom edge.)
Sunburst: What’s this?
(He glances around the room; cut to a longer shot. The light is coming from a spot near the haunch of his starry cloak, and he has sat on a stool to use the stand.)
Sunburst: (excitedly, standing on it, flipping pages) Could I be experiencing the cerebration transmogrification effect described in Chapter Seventee—
(Gravity claims the scholar, dumping him off the stool and onto his face so that his cloak settles forward over his head. The real cause of the pulse is now seen in full: his cutie mark, sounding off to indicate that his services are needed for a mission. He lifts the fabric away from his face and eyes his haunch with mild curiosity.)
Sunburst: Oh. My cutie mark is glowing. (It sinks in after a moment; he shoots upright.) My cutie mark is glowing! (trotting eagerly in place) I know what this means! (voice raised) Why am I yelling?!?
(Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of the Castle and School of Friendship and zoom in slowly. The hour has advanced a bit.)
Sunburst: (voice over) Princess Twilight—
(Cut to him, Twilight Sparkle, and Spike walking inside; his cloak is back in place.)
Sunburst: —what an honor this is! (Pause.) I-I mean, it is, right? (Chuckle.)
(The other two smile as they lead him along an upper-story walkway.)
Sunburst: I’m called for a friendship mission?
(He stops for a look around the area, then hurries to catch up; cut to the three.)
Twilight: You sure are, and it must be a special one. Nopony outside of Ponyville has ever been called before.
Spike: (nudging him in the chest) If you need some pointers, let me know. (smugly, cracking knuckles) I’ve been on my fair share of missions. (Sunburst floats up a quill and pad to take notes.)
Twilight: (dryly) You’ve been on one, Spike.
Spike: And that’s my fair share.
(The boss just rolls her eyes at this touch of unnecessary braggadocio. Cut to a set of closed doors, which swing open under Twilight’s control so they can enter from the far side. Sunburst has put away his implements; zoom out to put them at the entrance to the throne room, a worried Starlight Glimmer in the foreground and staring at the map on the central table. Her cutie mark is pulsing merrily away just like his, and changes in camera angle during the following show both icons circling above a certain spot in the foothills of a mountain range.)
Sunburst: (overjoyed) Starlight! You mean we’ve both been called? This is great! (He steps in; she turns toward him.)
Starlight: (listlessly) Yeah, great.
Sunburst: Aren’t you excited? You and me! (zipping closer) On a mission! Together!
(His old friend just lets off a long, unenthused groan in replay.)
Sunburst: (stammering a bit) I’m sorry, are—are you not excited to go on a mission with me?
Starlight: No. (He reacts with shock; she hastily shifts gears.) Uh, no! I mean, yes. (Laugh.) Totally excited about us going together! Just… (pointing to the marks) …not so excited about where.
(He follows her gesture, adjusting his glasses for a better look; cut to a close-up of the orbiting pair.)
Sunburst: (from o.s., floored) Sire’s Hollow? (Zoom out to frame him and Starlight.)
Starlight: Yep. Home.
Sunburst: Oh. Great.
(At the doorway, Twilight shoots a concerned glance to Spike, who smiles confidently and pats her wing before walking in.)
Spike: You know, I can go if you two don’t want to. (pulling out quill/notepad) I am kind of an expert.
(Long overhead shot of the room, zooming out slowly as the other three voice a unison groan of mild disgust. Dissolve to a stretch of railroad track, along which a train chugs into view, then cut to the interior of one car. Starlight and Sunburst sit facing each other, the latter reading a telekinetically held book while several others lie stacked within easy reach. The former, for her part, stares gloomily out the window for a moment before sighing and turning away. Both their cutie marks have gone quiet now.)
Starlight: It’s not that I don’t want to go home, it’s just that whenever I do, my dad treats me like a filly. (Sunburst sets his book aside.) Like nothing has changed since I was a foal.
Sunburst: Oh.
Starlight: I know. I’m a horrible daughter. (She huddles on her seat, face down.)
Sunburst: No, no! My mom actually does kinda the same thing. (Starlight sits up, surprised.)
Starlight: Really?
Sunburst: I don’t even have to go home. She sends me letters constantly, asking about my plans for the future. (mockingly, using a hoof as a puppet) “You’re a grown-up pony, Sunburst. You need a plan.”
(He reverts to his own voice with a defeated sigh.)
Sunburst: I haven’t been home in a while, either.
Starlight: (determinedly, hopping off seat) Hmph. We’ll just have to explain to our parents that we’re on an important friendship mission, so they can’t bother us.
Sunburst: (smiling, adjusting glasses) Do you think that will work?
Starlight: Nope!
(A great juddering and screeching of brakes; cut to a stretch of track, the train lurching to only the briefest of stops before accelerating away. Behind it is a station that consists of nothing more than a waiting platform and ticket booth; Starlight and Sunburst have debarked here, the latter without his books. As they descend to a path leading a nearby village, Sunburst utters a contented sigh; profile close-up, panning to follow.)
Sunburst: The great thing about home is, it always stays just how you l—
(The happy reminiscence turns into a yell of pain as he runs flat into a pair of tall wrought-iron gates set into a wall. Zoom out slightly as Starlight catches up to run an uncomprehending eye over the twin barriers, which have a heart prominently worked into their design, then cut to just inside.)
Starlight: Where did that come from?
(A push from Sunburst swings one gate wide open with the squeal of a rusty hinge and triggers a mare’s amplified voice.)
Mare voice 1: Welcome to Sire’s Hollow!
(They enter warily, only for Sunburst to stop in his tracks when a perfume atomizer is thrust into view toward him on a light blue hoof clothed in a white-edged magenta sleeve.)
Mare voice 2: Essence?
(He peers intently at it with a tweak to his glasses; cut to a longer shot. The holder is an earth pony mare with a slicked-back blue mane/tail and deep blue eyes, wearing a white skirt and a magenta/white shirt patterned to appear as a cardigan over a dress shirt and tie. The clothing hides her cutie mark.)
Sunburst: Essence of what?
Perfumer: You tell me.
(A squeeze of teeth on the atomizer’s bulb sends a burst of mist into his face, setting off a violent coughing spasm and prompting Starlight to shield her eyes and nose.)
Starlight: What is it?
Sunburst: (floating glasses off, cleaning them on cloak) Uh…chocolate, maybe?
Perfumer: (siding up to them, mashing her cheek against Starlight’s) Not chocolate maybe, chocolate definitely! (Starlight gets his specs back on.) And all of the benefits with none of the drawbacks.
(She trots away, secure in her belief that she has just made the sales pitch of her life. Sunburst watches her approach a table loaded with atomizers that stands out in front of a brightly colored perfume shop, which in turn is situated next to a smoothie joint.)
Sunburst: Didn’t this used to be a fruit stand?
Perfumer: I don’t know what it used to be. The Sire’s Hollow Development Committee determines what it is. (She sets her atomizer on the table as Starlight and Sunburst move closer.)
Sunburst: The Sire’s Hollow Development…what? Wh-Where do ponies buy fruit?
Perfumer: (pointing) You can get a fruit smoothie two doors down.
(Sure enough, a couple of mares in outfits and mane styles not unlike hers are leaving the smoothie shop and sipping placidly away at their drinks.)
Sunburst: All of the shops are different! Everything’s changed!
Starlight: Not everything. (glumly, pointing o.s.) That’s the same as it ever was.
(“That,” which brings a smile to Sunburst’s face, proves to be a district of stone-built dwellings and shops when the camera cuts to it and pans through the area. The ponies here are much more rustically garbed, and a small fountain stands at the center of a town square or common area. In fact, the older and modern buildings stand on opposite sides of the fountain. Starlight and Sunburst approach a bookshop in the old quarter; cut to just inside its front window as the perplexed mare presses her face and a hoof to the glass, staring in at the displayed tomes. The camera then cuts back to the pair, Sunburst raising a hoof to turn the doorknob—but before he can even touch it, the door opens inward to reveal the two hard-faced proprietor mares. One is a pale pink unicorn with light blue eyes behind blue-framed glasses, wavy two-tone mane/tail in bright pink, dangling blue-violet earrings, and a darker pink scarf tied around her neck. The other is a brown earth pony with birdcatcher spots under blue-green eyes, curly mane/tail in three shades of gray-green, and a pale yellow sweater long enough to cover her haunch. Neither mare’s cutie mark can immediately be seen.)
Unicorn bookseller: Sorry. Our bookstore’s been declared a site of historical significance by the Sire’s Hollow Preservation Society. (She and the earth pony trade a low-down high five.)
Earth pony bookseller: You’ll have to experience the books from here.
(A pair of brass poles joined by a velvet rope are levitated out of the shop and set in place to bar any interlopers from entering. Now the unicorn’s cutie mark becomes visible: a cardboard coffee cup.)
Earth pony bookseller: That’s why windows are see-through.
(And with that blindingly brilliant statement of the patently obvious, the mares back up inside and slam the door.)
Sunburst: What?!?
Starlight: Preservation Society? What is happening around here?
Stallion voice: (slightly reedy) I’ll explain it to you, sugarplum.
(On the end of this line, pan slightly to show the speaker standing a short distance behind her—Firelight, her father. Older unicorn; violet coat; short, well-coiffed mane/tail in two shades of light green; deep brown eyes; yellow-buttoned red vest over a pale yellow, sleeveless dress shirt with upturned collar and light yellow-green tie; cutie mark of a fire with licks of flame reaching upward. The sight of him, and the sound of his words and the chuckle he appends to their end, cause Starlight to recoil in mild horror and worry her lower lip. She has no time to take evasive action before Firelight squishes her cheeks and turns her to face him.)
Firelight: You are just as cutesy-wutesy as ever!
Starlight: (muffled, half-whining) Da-a-ad! (She pushes him back; normal tone.) Quit it! What is going on?
Firelight: Oh! (walking past shops) Just a father wanting to preserve our town’s rich history for his little pumpky-wumpkin. (Chuckle.)
Starlight: (warningly) Dad, you promised—no “pumpky-wumpkins” in public! (Sunburst stifles a laugh; Firelight pops up behind her.)
Firelight: (whispering) Sorry, Chipmunk Cheeks.
(He proceeds to poke at one of said cheeks, provoking his daughter to slap his hoof away.)
Starlight: Uh, don’t. You’re preserving the whole town? That’s crazy!
Mare voice 3: That’s exactly what I told him.
(Chipper and ambitious at the same time, this voice. Both glance in its direction, Starlight with puzzlement, Firelight with irritation. The speaker proves to be Stellar Flare, Sunburst’s mother: older, golden brown unicorn with off-white “sock” markings on all four hooves; three-tone, medium-length red-brown mane/tail, the former secured with a light blue band; brown-shadowed, light green eyes over a smug mouth; pearl necklace; short blue scarf with lighter accents and pinned by a light blue, triangular gem brooch; cutie mark of a sun marked by a spiral at its core. She stands across the square from the pair, in front of one modern store.)
Flare: I said, “Firelight, you’re crazy.” (Pat the mane.)
Sunburst: (uneasily) Mom…? (Flare steps up to him.)
Flare: Our village needs the same thing you do, Sunburst— (She floats up a pair of scissors.) —a clear plan for the future.
(One magically manipulated snip at his beard fails only due to her son telekinetically yanking the unkempt tuft of hair away from the blades. Putting them away, she turns to Starlight and Firelight.)
Flare: That’s why I started the Sire’s Hollow Development Committee. (Float up a scroll.) And I’ve got plans for this little town—big plans.
(When unfurled, the document turns out to be nearly twice as long as Starlight, to her dismay and Firelight’s vexation. She walks off, dragging the thing behind her; cut to ground level as one of his hooves lances into view to pin the free end to the ground.)
Firelight: (from o.s.) Listen here, Stellar Flare. (Cut to frame both.) I’m not gonna let you turn our historical heritage into Las Pegasus! (Flare’s field rolls up the scroll and jabs him in the nose with it.)
Flare: And I’m not going to let you turn it into a museum!
(The two parents go nose-to-nose, softly snarling their rancor at point-blank range.)
Starlight: Wait. Are you two fighting over this?
Sunburst: Like having a friendship problem?
Flare: (acidly) Oh, there’s no problem. (She leaves.)
Firelight: Because there is no friendship! (He does the same; zoom in on Starlight and Sunburst.)
Sunburst: (smiling, to Starlight) Well, the good news is, we know why we’re here.
(She just blows her forelock aside with a barely contained scowl. Fade to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of the town square, zooming in slowly as Firelight and Flare stride back toward their respective sections of Sire’s Hollow.)
Sunburst: (sighing) Maybe we should’ve sent Spike after all.
(Starlight copies the sigh, kick-starts her horn, and reels the feuding pair in with her field.)
Starlight: Sunburst and I were called here to do a job, and it looks like you two are it.
Flare: You mean, your success depends on us?
Sunburst: (scratching back of neck) Uhhh…
Firelight: (eagerly; Flare smiles as well) And you have to hang out with us the whole time you’re here?
Starlight: (grinning stupidly) Ummm…
(The bonhomie between the older ponies dissipates in record time and they pointedly turn their faces away from each other. Cut to Sunburst and Flare.)
Flare: Well, I’ll hear what you have to say, but every plan I’ve made for this town is perfectly reasonable. (Pan to Starlight and Firelight.)
Firelight: Good luck convincing me my preservation efforts don’t make sense.
(Back to their children, who sigh wearily and slump against each other down to the ground. From here, dissolve to the closed wrought-iron gates, one of which swings open in Flare’s magical grip to let her enter.)
Mare voice 1: Welcome to Sire’s Hollow!
(She grins broadly and points at the rig—enchanted to play that sound bite whenever opened. Sunburst and Starlight trade an unsettled grimace between themselves, but shift it to a humoring grin which they aim at her. A shower of old books tumbles past the screen, the view wiping behind it to the bookshop. The front door is open, the two mares in charge standing behind their velvet rope to regard the visitors through narrowed eyes. Firelight, standing off to one side, gesticulates grandly at the display.)
Starlight: (skeptically) So we can’t hold the books?
Unicorn bookseller: (laughing, then sourly) No.
Sunburst: Can you hold the books?
Earth pony bookseller: No.
Starlight: So nopony can read the books?
(Cut to the pair of hard faces and zoom out to the sound of Firelight’s laughter.)
Firelight: (to them) Isn’t she adorable?
(Another chuckle leaves Sunburst and Starlight at a loss. Wipe to the once-again-closed gates, the pair approaching from outside, and zoom out. Flare stands within, accompanied by two smoothie-drinking locals from her side of town. Starlight boots the gate open with a hoof so she and Sunburst can enter.)
Mare voice 1: Welcome to Sire’s Hollow!
(An ear-to-ear grin from the progress advocate wilts all too quickly before her son’s mildly irked glare. A tumble of perfume atomizers wipes the view to a close-up of Starlight and Sunburst approaching that particular table.)
Perfumer: (from o.s.) You can call them… (A soft grunt of disdain.) …“smells”… (Cut to frame them and her on opposite sides; they back off.) …but I call them “essence”!
(Grabbing one up, she pumps its bulb with her teeth to propel a spritz into Sunburst’s face and backs out of view. He is immediately wracked by a coughing spasm as he hastily floats his glasses off; Starlight, on the other hand, takes a step closer and sniffs the air.)
Starlight: Fruity. (Glasses on.)
Sunburst: (pointedly) Huh. Too bad there’s nowhere to get actual fruit.
Flare: (from o.s.) In the future—
(Both turn around; a longer shot frames her approaching with two cups in her field.)
Flare: —all ponies will drink their fruit.
(The beverages are rammed into the pair’s faces to that they are forced to take a long pull—and, judging from their disgusted retching, the taste does not agree with them one bit. Smoothie cups tumble down past the camera, the view changing behind them to an extreme close-up of a countertop. A loaf of bread lands hard on this, inflicting severe cracks to the wood across nearly its entire width, and a longer shot puts Starlight and Sunburst in a bakery on the historic side of town. Firelight is with them, and a hefty gray earth pony stallion is behind the counter. Slicked-down, dark gray mane/tail; dark green eyes; off-white shirt with sleeves rolled up; red apron; heavy beard stubble; cutie mark partly hidden by the counter.)
Baker: One hundred percent ancient pony grains— (gesturing to a picture on the wall) —just like the town founders ate.
(Zoom in quickly to a close-up: every single pony in the depiction has a mouthful of gapped and hopelessly misaligned teeth. When the camera returns to the counter, a pitcher, mixing bowl, and two eggs can be seen on the baker’s haunch.)
Baker: Hope you like crust!
(As he backs off, Sunburst pokes hesitantly at the rock-hard loaf—only for the countertop to crumble away and drop it out of sight. A camera-shaking impact drifts up from below, accompanied by a puff of dust, and Firelight grins/sweats nervously and tugs at his tie under a double glare from the pair. Masses of bread plunge past the camera; behind these, wipe to them at the open gates, accompanied by Flare and quite a few onlookers. The irritated Sunburst flicks one of them closed and open repeatedly, setting off the “Welcome to Sire’s Hollow” recording every time and slowly getting on the crowd’s nerves until Flare uses a brief spell to cut off the demonstration in mid-prattle.)
Flare: Okay, it’s annoying. I get it.
(Dissolve to Firelight, his head drooping in silent resignation, then cut to Starlight, Sunburst, and Flare gathering in with him at the fountain. The baker is laboriously pushing a cart piled high with his bread.)
Firelight: Maybe my preservation efforts were a little over the top.
(The vehicle chooses this moment to go to pieces; one wheel bounces away across the town square as he lets off a loud groan.)
Baker: Oh, no.
(Behind Flare, the perfumer works one of her atomizers while chasing after the two booksellers.)
Flare: And I might have been trying to turn the town into a shopping mall. (Both smile.)
Firelight: (offering a hoof) Well, whatever direction the town takes from now on, how about we work together on it?
Flare: (shaking it) Deal!
(Both grin toward their children, and Flare pivots toward Sunburst. On the next line, she floats up a comb and starts to run it through his unkempt forelock.)
Flare: Sunburst, you should move closer to Ponyville. After this success, I’m sure the Princess of Friendship will want to send you on more missions.
(One last, particularly hard pull snaps the red-orange strands into a more orderly arrangement, but he gets right back to patting it into its usual disarray.)
Sunburst: That’s not really how it works. (Glance at a hoof.) Oh, look at the time!
(Never mind that he is not wearing a wristwatch—or anything else, for that matter—on the limb.)
Sunburst: (bulldozing Starlight toward the gates) We should get going, now that we’ve solved the friendship problem—right, Starlight?
Starlight: (stopping him) Yeah, the thing is… (glancing at her haunch) …I don’t think we did solve it.
(Close-up of her cutie mark; its dormant nature would seem to suggest that this assessment is correct.)
Starlight: When we solve a friendship problem, our cutie marks are supposed to glow. (Zoom out to frame Firelight facing her and pinching her cheek on the next line.)
Firelight: Aw, don’t be disappointed, puddin’. Your papa will work this out for you. (Wink.)
Starlight: (chuckling, pointedly singsong) My papa wasn’t called by the map in Twilight’s castle. (own voice, dryly) I was.
(Pan away from the face-off to frame Sunburst, sneaking toward the now-closed gates—at least until a sudden tug on the hem of his cloak stops him in his tracks. Flare’s hoof has pinned the fabric to the ground; the sudden momentum shift dumps him to his haunches as she leans into his face.)
Flare: How are you going to explain this to the Princess? What’s your plan if she fires you from friendship quests? (Sunburst shoves her back.)
Sunburst: (sputtering) Mom, she doesn’t—it—it’s not—
Flare: (calmly) Use your words, Sunburst.
(Frustration boils over into a mingled neigh and teeth-locked snarl that causes his mother’s eyes to pop very wide.)
Starlight: I guess you two weren’t the problem we were sent to solve after all.
Flare: So now you don’t even know why you’re here? (scoffing, to Sunburst) We have to figure this out before we run out of time!
Sunburst: (sighing) Mom, there isn’t a time limit.
Firelight: So you’re here for an extra-long visit? (Laugh; he pinches Starlight’s grimacing cheeks.) You can stay in your old room, punky-wunk! It’s just like you left it!
(Accompanied by a hug that leaves her even more badly shaken. After he finishes, the camera pans quickly to a dim bedroom whose window is covered by a set of tattered curtains. The bed is unmade, and the floor and walls are littered with items that speak to the occupant’s bleak outlook on life: skull-themed décor and electric guitar, scattered articles of clothing with copious buckles and studs, a heart impaled by an arrow, and so on. After the camera pans quickly back to Starlight and Firelight, it takes a moment for the younger unicorn to recover her senses and bug out. Cut to her and Sunburst huddling in near the gates.)
Starlight: (hushed) We need to find this friendship problem now! (He nods vigorously.)
Firelight: (tapping Starlight; he and Flare ease up) Now, I know you have your little job to do, but Stellar and I know the town a lot better than you two.
Flare: That’s right! Neither of you have been home in ages. You’re gonna need our help to succeed.
(She gives Sunburst a nudge and wink that does nothing to settle the pair’s discomfort.)
Starlight: (unwillingly) I guess that makes sense. (Firelight and Flare chuckle; Flare floats out a sizable scroll.)
Flare: I already have some ideas. (Firelight does likewise.)
Firelight: Me too!
(Both gallop off together, grinning like fools.)
Sunburst: (to Starlight) I think I liked it better when they were fighting.
(Dissolve to the exterior of a house on Firelight’s side of town. Zoom in slowly to the sound of chalk being plied against a blackboard, then cut to these two items inside. Nearly every square inch of the board is covered with notes and drawings, and the chalk adds a few more details while held in a telekinetic grasp.)
Firelight: (from o.s.) Okay!
(Zoom out; he has been doing the work, and the board is mounted in a wheeled frame. His giant scroll has been stowed away.)
Firelight: (setting chalk down) Now that I’ve explained how Sire’s Hollow was founded, we can start to explore all the possible friendship problems that might have developed over time.
(He underscores the end of this line by fetching the board a kick that spins it wildly on its axis and sends the chalk flying; it comes to rest showing its flip side, marked with columns of notes. Cut to Starlight, seated at the far side of the room and taking notes; she lets the quill and pad drop from her aura and claps a hoof to her forehead while drawing in a deep, irritated breath.)
Starlight: I appreciate the history lesson, Dad, but I need to find the problem now—in the present.
Firelight: Aw, now, hun-bun— (patting her shoulder) —how are you gonna do that without all the backstory, huh?
(Not mollified in the slightest, she climbs off her stool.)
Firelight: Oh, of course, I know how hard it is for you to sit still and focus, soooo…
(His magic brings over a ratty gray blanket, to her considerable disbelief and mild disgust.)
Firelight: (baby talk) …would it help you pay attention to hold on to your bwankie?
(Which is unceremoniously wrapped onto her head and tied under her chin like a bonnet—they are in the family home, then. He follows up this offering with a glass of milk and some cookies Instead of calming Starlight down, though, the lot sets her to snarling through her teeth and looking as if she might want to burn the house to the ground. Dissolve to a profile close-up of an equally disgruntled Sunburst walking outside; on the start of the next line, zoom out to show Flare with him. Like Firelight, she no longer has her whopper of a scroll.)
Flare: Now you’ve had a little setback, but don’t worry. I know exactly what you need to do.
Sunburst: (sarcastically) Make a plan?
Flare: (floating up a smaller scroll) Already got one! (It is unfurled; she starts to read.) “Step one—interview the suspects. Step two—use your talents to solve the issue. Step three—get the Princess of Friendship to send you on more missions.”
(She keeps moving, oblivious to the fact that Sunburst has stopped and put yet another hoof to his face.)
Sunburst: Mom! It does not work like that! (She doubles back.)
Flare: Uh-huh.
(Off she goes again, missing the fed-up scrunching of his face. A bit farther down the block, the perfumer and the two booksellers catch her grin and head twitch toward Sunburst, but do nothing until she clears her throat loudly and points at him ;he has caught up to her by this point. The following six lines are delivered in a manner so stilted that Princess Celestia’s reading of her lines in “Horse Play” would sound vibrant by comparison.)
Perfumer: Oh! Thank goodness you are here. (indicating booksellers) These two ponies refuse to use my essences. (Flare nods; cut to the three.)
Unicorn bookseller: Maybe because we don’t like to cover our natural scent.
(She punctuates her words by raising a foreleg; the motion releases a wisp of greenish vapor that instantly has the perfumer struggling not to vomit on the spot. A loud throat-clearing from the o.s. Flare jolts them all back on track; cut to her, inclining her head sharply toward her son, who scowls and rolls his eyes at the stupid artificiality unfolding in the street.)
Perfumer: Ugh!
Unicorn bookseller: Ugh!
Earth pony bookseller: Ugh! (pointing at perfumer) And she refuses to buy our books.
Booksellers, perfumer: Surely this is a friendship problem.
(They stick on big expectant grins, waiting on Sunburst to deliver the capper—but he just sighs disgustedly and puts a hoof to his temple.)
Sunburst: (to Flare) It needs to be a real friendship problem! You can’t just make one up!
(Voicing his anger and frustration and annoyance in a long groan, he stomps away.)
Flare: (to the others) This is what happens when we don’t rehearse!
(She lets go with a groan and exits. Dissolve to the exterior of the bookshop, door closed and velvet-rope barricade gone. The baker has procured a new cart for his bread, and two locals are doing a little reading as Firelight walks up.)
Firelight: (voice raised) Starlight! Sweetie? (Close-up; he floats up a book.) I found a really old town by-law that nopony agrees on, uh… (Flip pages; point out a passage.) …apparently we’re not supposed to prance or canter after dinnertime. Could that be the problem? (walking off) Silly filly?
(Zoom out slightly to put Starlight in the fore, hunkering down behind the edge of the fountain opposite him and no longer wearing her “bwankie.” She peeks up to see him depart, but he does not notice her.)
Starlight: (wiping forehead) Phew!
(Now here comes Sunburst, scooting backward on his haunches toward her and scared out of his wits.)
Starlight: What are you doing?
Sunburst: (sighing) Hiding from my mother! She’s started making up friendship problems for me to solve!
Starlight: (laughing scornfully) My dad won’t even let me talk to anypony in case they’re strangers. (She adds air quotation marks with her hooves on that last word.) I’m a grown mare!
Sunburst: (sighing) We’re never going to find the friendship problem with them around, let alone solve it.
(On the start of the next line, zoom out to frame the baker and his cart now standing alongside the pair; he holds one of his rock-hard loaves.)
Baker: Maybe you two should start looking for it on your own?
(He demonstrates the durability of his product by gnawing mightily on it, teeth grating against crust without even so much as scoring the surface. Sunburst begins to mull over the suggestion, stroking his beard as Starlight shoots him a tentative, hopeful grin. Snap to black, then to an extreme close-up of a tabletop as a small desk lamp is switched on to illuminate it. A patch of bookshelves is visible in the background; zoom out slightly to frame Starlight seated behind the table, steepling her front hooves together with a pleased grin. The following exchange is delivered in hushed tones except where noted.)
Starlight: (slightly out of breath) Okay. So we wanted to talk to all of you—you know, in private. (Sunburst leans into view next to her.)
Sunburst: Just to see if there were issues any of you had with your friends.
(Both expectant faces lean forward over the table, Starlight propping hers on hooves. Cut to behind them; they have been addressing the baker, booksellers, and perfumer.)
Perfumer: Got it. Just one question—why are we whispering?
(A longer shot of the area discloses the full shelves that reach from floor to ceiling, as well as stacked and loose books that take up space on floor and tables. This can only be the bookshop, and the gathering is taking place in a dimly lit back room. Not a single living soul is in the place except for these six.)
Baker: (normal volume) They’re avoiding their parents.
Booksellers, perfumer: Ohhh!
(They trail off into a round of understanding nods and murmurs as Starlight and Sunburst react with some trepidation.)
Sunburst: No, not avoiding, just…taking a break.
Starlight: Yeah! (Laugh.) We needed to focus—oh, but we’re definitely not avoiding them.
(Both fugitives hunch down behind their side of the table with weak grins, but their audience is nowhere close to satisfied.)
Unicorn bookseller: So you’re whispering with all of us in the darkest corner of the shop, where nopony can possibly see, because you’re not avoiding them?
Starlight: (as she and Sunburst nod) Mmm-hmm. (They sit up again.)
Sunburst: Uh, but they definitely can’t hear us in here, right?
Baker: (normal volume) No way! This is the antiquities section. Nopony ever comes back here. (Long silence.)
Firelight: (from o.s., normal volume) There you are!
(The pinkish-violet mare gets the scare of her life from hearing those three words. Zoom out to show him standing at the top of a tall ladder propped against the shelves behind the table. Normal volume resumes.)
Firelight: But what are we doing in here? (Gasp; he jumps down to them.) Is the friendship problem in my favorite section of the bookstore?
(Far too many books follow him to the table, manipulated in his field; Starlight and Sunburst groan at his arrival, Sunburst going face-first into the pile for good measure. Behind a rain of other well-aged literature, the view wipes to the exterior of the bookshop. Reading from a new acquisition held in his magic, Firelight leads the six conspirators out.)
Firelight: And then, I thought the best way to look for a friendship problem in the present— (Starlight stops.)
Starlight: (exasperated) Dad! (He doubles back to her.)
Firelight: (briefly shoving book into her face) —was to look back in our town history even farther! (She growls.)
Flare: (from o.s.) Sunburst! (She zips up to him.) Oh, finally! Now, I know you don’t want me to make up a problem— (floating up an open scroll, thrusting it in his face) —but what if I start one? (Sunburst pulls it away.)
Sunburst: That’s not how this— (She covers his mouth with a hoof.)
Flare: I mean, nopony ever became a success by following all the rules, right? (He snarls quietly; she addresses herself to the o.s. Firelight.) How are things on your end? (Cut to him and Starlight.)
Firelight: (closing book) Couldn’t be better. (crossing to Flare) New leads and such.
Starlight: (softly, warningly) Guys…
Flare: We really are providing excellent assistance, aren’t we?
Sunburst: Guys!
Firelight: I daresay our children should be grateful for our help.
Starlight: GUYS!!
(Two horizontal panels slide into view to fill the screen: Starlight in the top half, Sunburst in the bottom.)
Starlight, Sunburst: WE DON’T WANT YOUR HELP!
(The panels slide away, giving a good clear view of their suddenly dumbstruck parents, and the camera cuts to a longer shot of the tense tableau. Firelight’s book and Flare’s scroll lie abandoned on the grass as their respective children glower at them. Zoom out slowly and fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the four ponies and zoom in slowly.)
Flare: (offended) I’m sorry. You don’t want our help?
Firelight: (laughing uneasily) That’s—that’s ridiculous! What reason could you possibly have for that?
Starlight: Because you’re driving us crazy!
(This outburst stuns the older generation into a moment’s silence.)
Flare: Oh, really? And just how am I driving you crazy?
Sunburst: (levitating one of her scrolls; several others fall out of his cloak) By always coming up with plans! (ripping it apart) I don’t need a plan! I mean— (sputtering) —maybe I do, but it’ll be mine! Not yours! (He turns his back to her.)
Flare: (voice breaking) Well, I’m sorry for trying to help! (She gallops away, sobbing; Starlight advances on Firelight.)
Starlight: And you’re not any better! I’m not a filly! I’m a grown pony with a job to do, and I’ll do it on my own!
(As she backs off, her father gathers whatever might remain of his dignity and raises his nose.)
Firelight: (stiffly, levitating his book from the ground) Well, I’ll let you get to it, then.
(He trots away with it, leaving the younger two alone.)
Starlight: (sourly, to Sunburst) Great. Now we have to smooth things over with our parents on top of finding and solving a friendship problem.
Sunburst: (stroking his beard) It’s almost like our relationship with our parents is the friendship problem.
Starlight: (fearfully) You don’t think that’s it, do you?
(Their ruminations are interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared; cut to a longer shot that frames the four from the bookshop meeting looking on.)
Baker: That’s what all of us think.
(To which Starlight responds by groaning loudly and keeling over backwards.)
Sunburst: (to Starlight, covering her face) Why couldn’t we have been sent to stop a war or something?
(Dissolve to Firelight in the family home, morosely using a field-held cloth to wipe his blackboard clean as Starlight cautiously enters.)
Starlight: Dad?
Firelight: (very stiffly) Hello, Ms. Glimmer. (wringing cloth; composure slowly deteriorates) How is your friendship problem search going? I only ask as an interested observer, since I know you are an adult who’s capable of doing things without help from anypony else.
(Tears have gathered in the brown eyes by the time he finishes, and he whimpers almost inaudibly before using the cloth to dab them away.)
Starlight: (smiling) Actually, I think Sunburst and I figured out what it is. (Cut to Firelight.)
Firelight: (dropping cloth, turning to her) So Stellar and I weren’t really helpful after all.
Starlight: (crossing to him) Well, we haven’t actually solved it— (lifting his chin) —and I don’t think we can. Not without you.
(Now the brown eyes widen in genuine surprise as the mouth below them curves into a smile of its own. Wipe to Flare behind the perfumer’s table, a pencil and clipboard held in her power so she can take notes. She brings up an atomizer, sprays a burst into her own face, and immediately bursts into a teary-eyed coughing fit that forces her to drop all three items as Sunburst walks up.)
Flare: (wiping eyes) Pungent!
(Noticing the arrival of her son, she becomes all formality in a flash.)
Flare: (turning away) Oh! Did you come by to be driven crazy by more of your mother’s plans?
Sunburst: No, I came to apologize.
(Disbelief flickers across the golden brown face before she pivots back to him.)
Flare: Well, it’s going to take more than an apology to make up for telling me you don’t want my help finding your friendship problem.
Sunburst: Oh, I’m not sorry for that. Starlight and I already figured out what the problem is.
Flare: (surprised) This is a terrible apology.
(Up come the pencil and clipboard for a few more notes.)
Sunburst: Well, if you come with me and help fix it— (She stops working.) —I’ll give you a better one.
(As the items clatter to the ground, she struggles to make sense of this offer and eventually adopts a smile to answer his. Dissolve to a long shot of the town square, Starlight and Sunburst taking places to face their respective parents; the four vendors are out and about as well.)
Starlight: Usually, Twilight or one of her other friends gets called to a place with a friendship problem to fix.
Sunburst: But Starlight and I realized we came here to fix a friendship problem we already had.
Starlight: (crossing to Firelight) I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding coming home, Dad, but…you can’t keep treating me like a foal.
Firelight: I’m sorry, sugar bun. (She grimaces slightly; he sighs.) Hm. I just know how hard things were for you when you left home. (Visible discomfort on her face.) I guess I wanted you to feel safe, like…when you were young.
Starlight: Dad, I-I know I’ve made some mistakes— (laughing) —and I’ll probably make a bunch more. (touching his chest) But I learn from them. I think that’s what growing up is.
(Now Sunburst moves toward the downcast Flare.)
Sunburst: I’m sorry I never told you how much your plans bothered me, and I know you just want me to succeed—but I need to do that on my own.
Flare: I remember how lost you were when you flunked out of magic school. I thought as long as you had a plan, you’d never feel that way again.
Sunburst: You don’t have to worry, Mom. I need to find my own way. I definitely don’t feel lost anymore.
(Now displaying a smile of gentle, genuine understanding, Flare lays her sock-marked hoof on his. The touch starts his cutie mark flaring under his cloak; she floats up the hem to expose it, and in short order Starlight’s has started to pulse as well. Both parent/child pairs embrace as the camera zooms out to put the booksellers and perfumer in the fore, and the camera quickly shifts to reveal the baker and quite a few other residents looking on. All are deeply touched by the show of emotion.)
Baker: (sobbing) Oh, it’s so beautiful!
(Dissolve to the Sire’s Hollow train station as the four unicorns mount the steps to the platform. Flare has let go of Sunburst’s cloak.)
Flare: The glowing cutie mark is such a symbol of accomplishment. (magically flipping cloak up) I don’t suppose there’s a way for you to get it to glow all the time?
Sunburst: (chuckling, pushing it down with a hoof) Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.
Starlight: Not unless we solved a friendship problem every few seconds, and I-I kinda hope this one will be it for a while.
Firelight: You know, it seems to me your map is saying we’re not just your parents. Heh. We’re…your friends, too.
Starlight: I guess so. (Her mark and Sunburst’s go quiet.)
Firelight: So if I promise to treat you less like a little filly and more like a friend…will you visit more?
Starlight: Absolutely. (Father and daughter embrace.) Mmm…
(Pan from them to Sunburst and Flare.)
Sunburst: (adjusting glasses) And if you start to drive me crazy again, I’ll tell you instead of never coming home.
Flare: That’s lovely of you to say, dear. But you know, I can always visit you.
(A jolt of fear runs through the gray matter under the rumpled mane; behind him, Firelight breaks into a big smile.)
Firelight: Stellar, you’re a genius! (He pulls away from Starlight and crosses to her with a laugh.) How do you feel about a road trip?
Flare: (levitating a bundle of scrolls) I might have a few plans for that.
(Now well and truly scared, the younger unicorns somehow manage to force out a pair of strained grins and chuckles. Almost as soon as the sound of an approaching train asserts itself, they are at the edge of the platform to wave it down frantically so they can get shut of their hometown for a while. Fade to black as it pulls toward the platform.)
NON-COMPETE CLAUSE
Written by Kim Beyer-Johnson
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the School of Friendship during the day. Rainbow Dash lances into view toward the courtyard above the main entrance; an instant later she is rocketing through this area and straight toward the camera. The view blacks out as her frantic face fills the screen, then snaps to the entrance hall. She slams to a hovering halt above the gathered ponies for the briefest moment before taking off down a side passage where Silverstream and Yona are sharing a laugh. The turbulence stirred up by the blue pegasus dislodges a thick stack of papers from the yak’s grip, turning them into a blizzard.)
Silverstream, Yona: Huh?
(Rainbow doubles back, re-stacks the fallen pages, and passes them back to Yona with an apologetic smile. As soon as she flies away, though, they go fluttering in every direction all over again. Silverstream voices an incredulous gasp as Rainbow cuts another turn and disappears down the far end of the hall. Cut to a large circular room set up as a teachers’ lounge—bookshelves, couches, tea service, kitchen area with note-covered billboard, and so on in—and zoom in slowly. The School’s crest and an arrangement of nine framed photographs hang on the far wall above a fireplace, and Twilight Sparkle steps up to a lectern in the center of the floor. The rest of her friends have taken seats facing her on couches and the floor, and Spike is present with a camera in hand. Rainbow pulls in to hover near Applejack.)
Rainbow: (eagerly) Did I miss the Teacher of the Month announcement?
Applejack: You’re just in time— (smugly) —but it’s gonna be me.
Rainbow: Yeah, right. I got this one nailed. (Applejack grimaces at her.)
Twilight: And the Friendship School Teacher of the Month is…
(Cut to the farmer and flyer, eyes shining and mouths grinning with unbridled anticipation.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) …Fluttershy! (The faces fall; Applejack groans softly.)
Applejack: Again?
Rainbow: Come on! (Cut to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: Oh, my! I don’t know how I keep winning.
(Spike takes advantage of a brief lull to stick his camera in her face and snap, the flash leaving her disoriented. She shakes her head clear as the picture pops out and he backs off.)
Rainbow: (sarcastically) Yeah. Me neither.
Twilight: (to Fluttershy) The award is based on the students’ vote. They must really like you!
(Pulling the picture of her dazed visage free of the camera, Spike holds it up proudly—but his features shift to an expression of bewilderment as he looks behind himself. Pan quickly to a close-up of the wall over the fireplace; one frame is empty, while the other eight hold photos of the yellow mare that are identical to the one he has just taken.)
Twilight: Congratulations, Fluttershy!
(She warms up her horn; Applejack and Rainbow can only watch, dismayed, and reach futilely toward a trophy that floats past them from the back of the room. This consists of a gold cup surmounted by a tasseled mortarboard cap, and Fluttershy receives it with a giggle, ignoring the dirty looks from the sky-blue and orange-tan faces.)
Twilight: Next item of business. I’ve been looking into a new activity for our friendship classes. Spike?
(Having put away his camera, he struggles to move toward her while carrying the backbreaker of a school rulebook she put together in Part Two of “School Daze.” In close-up, it is turned to give her a clear view of the pages once opened; however, with his left hand supporting the weight, he is unable to get his right up over the spine and across the cover to snag the edge. Twilight’s field does the job for him, flipping through several hundred pages so that he can now put both hands under it. Cut back to her on the start of the next line.)
Twilight: (pointing out a passage) Section one-forty-seven, paragraph two states that teamwork is a key part of friendship. And section two-two-nine, paragraph nine says outdoor activity reinforces learning. Add that together, and what do you get?
Pinkie Pie: (raising a foreleg) Ooh, ooh! (counting on hooves) Okay, let me see. One-forty-seven, two-twenty-nine, carry the two… (A bell rings in her mind.) …three hundred and eighty-seven?
(Rarity rolls her eyes sadly at this failure to catch on to the point.)
Twilight: (shaking head) Hmm-mmm. A teamwork field trip! Leading it is a “Teacher of the Month”-type job, so I thought I’d ask—
(Her perspective of Fluttershy on the end of this; Applejack leans into view enthusiastically to block the sight line.)
Applejack: I’m your pony, Twilight! Sweet Apple Acres has taught me a thing or two about workin’ together. (Rainbow barges up to hover beside her.)
Rainbow: Yeah, but being a Wonderbolt’s the definition of teamwork.
Applejack: (to her, chuckling dismissively) I’m sure you’re not sayin’ fancy flyin’ makes you a better choice than me.
Rainbow: (ditto) I wouldn’t say “better,” just a little more qualified. No offense. (Applejack glowers at her.)
Fluttershy: Maybe you can lead the field trip together.
(Green and red-violet eyes pop very wide as her words hit like a two-by-four to the backs of both heads. They pivot spluttering toward Fluttershy, but Twilight is all smiles.)
Twilight: Of course! Who better to model the importance of working as a team?
Pinkie: Um, Rarity, Fluttershy, me, Spike… (dryly, holding up a potted plant) …this flowerpot?
Twilight: (crossing to Applejack/Rainbow) Both of you are teamwork experts. (Rainbow settles to the ground.) If the students see the two of you teaching together, they’ll learn even more. I know you’ve been competitive in the past, but I’m sure you’d never let that get in the way of friendship education.
Applejack: Of course!
Rainbow: Totally!
(Their smiles turn to sotto-voce growls once Twilight has turned to go back to her lectern. Realizing that even this might be too much, they offer each other a big forced grin and giggle—but both pairs of eyes are still narrowed in barely concealed hostility. Fade to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to an overhead shot of Twilight leading the six students away from the campus. Smolder is the only airborne member of the group.)
Ocellus: I’ve never been on a field trip before. (Cut to her, Gallus, and Smolder.)
Smolder: Yeah. What’s the point of this, exactly?
Gallus: Getting out of the classroom. Duh! (Pan back to Sandbar, Silverstream, and Yona on the next line.)
Yona: Yak best at field-tripping!
(She demonstrates her aptitude by deliberately pitching forward onto her face, drawing smiles from the two classmates.)
Silverstream: (overjoyed) That’s what we’re doing?! So fun! (She copies Yona’s slapstick tumble.)
Sandbar: (chuckling) Pretty sure the headmare has something else in mind. (All stop.)
Twilight: All right, class. Today you’ll learn how important working together is for building a strong friendship. (She moves aside to make room for Applejack.)
Applejack: Hey, y’all! Ready to get out there and do some learnin’ the Apple family way? (Rainbow flies in; Applejack leans this way and that to be seen behind her.)
Rainbow: This is basically gonna be the best field trip in the history of ever! With me in charge, that is. (Applejack shoves her aside.) Whoa!
Applejack: (chuckling) With us in charge. (aside, to Rainbow) Meanin’ mostly me.
Rainbow: (ditto) Yeah, good one. (They glare daggers at one another.)
Twilight: And what teamwork activity do you two have planned for today? (Cut to them.)
Applejack, Rainbow: Shed buildin’! / Canoe racing!
Silverstream: (from o.s.) No way! (Cut to her and Yona; she pops briefly into the air.) We get to do both?
Twilight: I bet that’s exactly what your teachers had in mind.
(Cut to the pair, trading uneasy sidewise glances, and zoom out to frame Twilight on the next line.)
Twilight: Why don’t you start with shed building first? (Applejack shoots a cocky look to Rainbow.)
Applejack: Heh. Don’t mind if I do! Everycreature, follow the leader!
(She leads the way across the meadow for the students, Rainbow rising to a hover and letting her eyes broadcast her discontent.)
Twilight: I’ll check in later to see how it’s going. Remember to work together!
(The needled pegasus wings slowly after the rest of the group. Dissolve to an extreme close-up profile of Applejack, who pulls in a long lungful of air while walking through the Sweet Apple Acres orchards.)
Applejack: Now take a good deep breath. What do you smell?
(Longer shot; Rainbow is flying alongside her as they lead the outing. Gallus follows instructions, but immediately voices a sound of mild revulsion and covers his beak.)
Gallus: Yak? (He shoots a glare to Yona, his immediate neighbor; she sniffs at her own fur.)
Yona: Mmm-hmm!
Applejack: Nope. Try again.
Ocellus: Um, apples? (All stop on a rise.)
Applejack: Aaaaand…? Anyone? Anyone? No? (Ear-to-ear grin.) The promise of… (gesturing to one side) …teamwork!
(On this last word, pan quickly in that direction and stop on a nearby outbuilding that resemble a chicken coop, but with a full-sized door for ponies’ use. Next to it is a pile of lumber and tools, lying under a tree that has had a pulley attached to one branch.)
Applejack: (now o.s.) That there’s an apple shed! (trotting to materials) And this here is what we’re gonna use to build it! (The others gather in.) Nothin’ brings friends together like a little hard work and honest sweat.
Rainbow: (laughing derisively) Sweat? Seriously? That’s supposed to be part of friendship?
Applejack: Not everypony would know that, Rainbow Dash. Just “Teacher of the Month” kinda ponies.
Rainbow: Whatever. Let’s just get this done so we can move on to my activity.
(The six scholars watch the blue smirk and orange scowl with varied puzzlement and irritation. Dissolve to an extreme close-up of a nail behind held against the end of a plank by Gallus so Yona can pound it in with her hoof. A longer shot shows that the griffon and yak have both donned hard hats, the latter’s cut to accommodate her horns, and she grins at his satisfied nod. Cut to Silverstream pulling a rope taut with her beak to secure a load of boards on Ocellus’s back, then zoom out. She has a bundle of her own, and the two move off as Sandbar paints one board and Smolder saws another. All four are now wearing hard hats as well, and Ocellus and Silverstream deliver and drop their cargo during the following.)
Applejack: That’s it! Measure twice and cut once! Haste makes waste! (Close-up.) Slow and steady! (Zoom out to frame the hovering Rainbow, carrying planks under both forelegs, on the next line.)
Rainbow: Emphasis on the “slow”!
(She darts away in a rainbow blur that blows Applejack’s mane/tail sideways, lets fly with the lumber, and kicks a hoof-load of nails after them. Timbers drop into place, nails punch in and are struck home, and Applejack gapes at the construction frenzy unfolding before her in midair.)
Applejack: (annoyed) Rainbow Dash, you can’t build an apple shed like that! (Rainbow drops to her level with a faint scoff.)
Rainbow: Oh, yeah? I just did!
(The corner of something very heavy, large, and wooden slams to the turf in the foreground. Even the small fraction of it in frame points to a haphazard method of assembly.)
Gallus: (walking into view) Whoa! No way!
(A longer shot confirms the Wonderbolt’s less-than-methodical approach to construction. The front wall and roof are missing, but this does not stop the students from gathering in to run an eye over it.)
Other students: (awed) Whoa…
Gallus: Impressive—if you can call an apple shed impressive.
Applejack: Just ’cause it’s fast don’t mean it’s good.
Rainbow: (mockingly) Oh, sorry, can’t hear you. Too busy practicing my “Teacher of the Month” pose.
(She proceeds to test out a few mid-hover, adding a grunt or two for good measure and working the remainder of Applejack’s good nerves.)
Applejack: Don’t count your pictures before they’re snapped, Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow: Oh, come on! These students are totally gonna vote for a teacher who gets things done!
Applejack: No, they’re gonna vote for a teacher who gets things done right!
(Now nose to nose, the two do their best to bore through each other’s skulls with the sheer vitriol of their glares.)
Smolder: (dryly) Yeah, this isn’t awkward at all.
(Her discontent rapidly spreads to the other five. Dissolve to an extreme close-up of Rainbow’s sloppily built shed and zoom out as Ocellus, Sandbar, and Silverstream raise a neatly assembled front wall—whose door is missing—into place under Applejack’s supervision. The two with wings quickly nail it to the frame; cut to Yona standing under the tree, one end of a rope clamped in her teeth.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Steady…steady…
(Up above, the other end runs over the pulley on the tree branch and is looped around the shed’s roof, which Gallus and Smolder are maneuvering into position.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) Take her nice and slow… (They ease it down; cut to her.) L-Little to the left… (They do so at her gesture.) Uh, uh, a hair to the right…
(Swing it back; now the entire structure is in view. She is standing atop the frame, Rainbow hovering nearby and getting fed up with the whole process.)
Applejack: Now a hoof shavin’ higher… (The roof is raised; Rainbow growls through her teeth and zips over to Yona.)
Rainbow: JUST BRING IT DOWN ALREADY!!
(The outburst spooks Yona into letting go of the rope with a gasp; the weight of the roof drags Gallus and Smolder down with a yell until they too release their grip. All others scatter, Applejack jumping clear and voicing a shout of her own just before the roof crashes down squarely on the shed. Dust boils up to fill the screen and clears to reveal the front wall as the only piece still standing. As the students and teachers congregate around the wreckage, Rainbow offers a weak chuckle while finding herself on the wrong end of puzzled/accusing looks.)
Applejack: I’ll give you one guess whose side is still standin’.
Yona: (thumping wall) Yak side!
(She grunts in triumph as it topples forward to land flat on the grass, falling so that a rather startled Sandbar finds himself standing within the perimeter of its doorframe. Yona can only offer a sheepish chuckle for her role in the calamity; Applejack uncorks a big-league groan as Rainbow descends to her.)
Ocellus: Um, Professors? I’m a little confused about teamwork now.
Rainbow: That’s because you need a different teacher. Follow me! Last one to the stream is a rotten apple shed!
(She flashes away, leaving Applejack to growl and send out a glare that could burn through a foot of concrete. Dissolve to a patch of peaceful sky, against which Rainbow rises into view, wearing a life vest and crash helmet; a stopwatch hangs around her neck.)
Rainbow: Who’s ready to smash the all-time Equestria speed record for river canoeing?
(Longer shot. All eight have gathered at a riverbank and donned vests and helmets, an elongated canoe standing grounded before them. Both Smolder’s and Yona’s headgear is cut to let their horns protrude. Attached to the prow is a carving of a unicorn mare’s head. Rainbow proudly gestures toward the craft during a long silence.)
Gallus: (to Sandbar) Is that even a thing?
Sandbar: First I’ve heard of it.
Rainbow: (flying to them, showing stopwatch) We need to get to the finish line before this alarm goes off. That means you gotta move fast!
(In a blink, she has flashed over to the canoe and pulled out half a dozen oars, which she throws to the students. Each catches one except for Ocellus, but Smolder snags two and passes one over to her.)
Rainbow: Any questions?
Yona: Um, Yona have questions.
Rainbow: No time for ’em. Get in the boat! (All six do so, Applejack bringing up the rear.)
Applejack: You really think winnin’ some canoein’ record is gonna get you that Teacher of the Month trophy?
Rainbow: Um, pretty sure everycreature’s gonna like it a lot better than pounding nails and cutting wood.
(Her self-satisfied smile draws an incredibly dirty look from her opposite number. Cut to an extreme close-up of river water coursing past the canoe’s hull; Ocellus’s hooves splash through it to climb aboard, followed by Yona fretfully considering her own reflection in the surface.)
Yona: Yak not like water. (Cut to frame both on the start of the next line.)
Ocellus: Sometimes, when I’m scared to try something new, I whistle.
(After mulling over this suggestion for a moment, the hirsute friendship student blows a few tentative notes and starts climbing in, only to get stuck on the edge. Sandbar and Silverstream have now taken their seats in addition to Ocellus; when Yona gets stuck on the edge, Sandbar begins to pull her in as Gallus and Smolder fall in on the shore.)
Gallus: We got you, Yona.
(She lets out a surprised yelp as the trio’s combined efforts topple her in among the seats.)
Applejack: (to Rainbow) Way I see it, Twilight’s gonna give that teachin’ trophy to a teacher, not a racer.
Rainbow: We’ll see about that.
(Dissolve to a close-up of the daredevil, now sitting at the bow and facing astern as water sprays around her.)
Rainbow: Stroke! Stroke! Stroke! (Cut to Gallus/Smolder/Yona facing front and struggling to paddle; she continues o.s.) Harder! Put your back into it, newbies!
Applejack: (from o.s., slowly) Strooooke… (Cut to her.) …strooooke…
(Longer shot; she sits in the stern and addresses Ocellus/Sandbar/Silverstream, who sit facing her and are considerably more relaxed as they cycle their oars.)
Applejack: …strooooke…slower…focus on your paddle technique, y’all. (Close-up of Silverstream.)
Silverstream: Woo-hoo! We’re really going now!
(Pan from her to Rainbow’s end of the boat and stop on Smolder.)
Smolder: So…when do we get to the part when we move?
(Cut to a shot that frames the entire canoe. They have pulled away from the shore, but the two trios—facing their respective coxswains and away from each other—are paddling in opposite directions so that their efforts cancel each other out.)
Rainbow: When everycreature starts listening to me! The leader of my activity, Applejack!
(The three on Applejack’s end hastily shift to face front.)
Rainbow: Now, STROKE!!
(Paddles cut through the current and the canoe begins to move. Wipe to a close-up of Rainbow facing confidently ahead, a hoof raised to shade her eyes, and zoom out. All six rowers are giving it everything they have; close-up of the stopwatch being raised to check the time.)
Rainbow: (from o.s.) Dig in, team! (Back to her.) We can still beat that record! (Pan back to Applejack.)
Applejack: Stop!
(They are bearing down on a cluster of large rocky outcroppings that splits the river into two paths.)
Rainbow: Go!
Ocellus: Which way do we go?
Rainbow: Left!
Applejack: Right!
Silverstream: Aye-aye, captains! (Pause.) Wait. What?
Rainbow: Left! I can see the finish line from here!
(Her perspective, zooming in quickly past her pointed hoof to stop on a checkered flag planted on the bank just beyond the rocks on the left side. The water is broken up by several smallish fish sporting bat wings and overlarge mouths filled with deadly pointed teeth, and one leaps snarling from the water. Cut back to the canoe.)
Applejack: If we go left, we’ll be headin’ straight into the bite-acuda fish!
Rainbow: Who cares about a few fish? (Cut to Sandbar.)
Sandbar: (uneasily) Uh, Professors? (To Applejack on the start of the next line.)
Applejack: (ignoring him) You’ll care plenty when they bite you!
Sandbar: Guys? (The canoe is closing in on the rocks.)
Rainbow: (ignoring him) We’ll just go around them!
Sandbar: ROOOCK!!
(The camera shifts to ride alongside the bow, just above the churning water surface, as they close in on the outcroppings. Screams ring out over the roar and foam, the camera cutting back to the canoe as they disappear from sight and a sickening crash drifts back, accompanied by random bits of smashed wood and snapped oars. Fade to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to the wreckage of the canoe, most of which is being swept around to the right side of the outcroppings. Eight dark spots appear under the water and soon sprout into the heads of the coughing, spluttering canoeists, among them a laughing Silverstream and a whistling Yona. The latter’s attempt at a diversion comes to an abrupt end when her life vest becomes snagged on a jutting branch and tears loose from her body, popping away on its own a moment later. Soon they are floating past the rocks and into calmer waters.)
Silverstream: I love field trips!
(Both Rainbow and her stopwatch—knocked loose in the crash—drift to a stop near an acerbic Applejack in close-up.)
Applejack: I hope you’re happy. (Rainbow checks the watch and scoffs; here comes Yona’s vest.)
Rainbow: Obviously not, because there goes our new speed record!
(The end of this is underscored by flurry of splashes and short, panicked breaths from o.s.; cut to the source—the young yak, flailing to keep her head above water but slowly going down.)
Yona: HEEEEEELP!! Yak not swim!
(When she finally submerges, a look of fierce determination passes between Ocellus and Silverstream. Both throw off their helmets, activate their respective magics, and dive—a pair of finned tails plunging out of view as Applejack and Rainbow stare popeyed. Underwater, the natural sea pony and her changeling equivalent lance down after their slowly sinking classmate. Ocellus’s mane/tail/dorsal fins have the same translucent pink color and sparkle as her wings, her ears and the fins on her forelegs are a darker pink, and her eyes have the appearance of a pony’s, with dark blue-green irises. She and Silverstream have shed their life vests now.)
Ocellus: That’s okay. (They pull Yona up.) Your friends can change into creatures that do.
(As soon as the three heads break the surface, Yona comes to in a paroxysm of waterlogged coughing and pulls Ocellus and Silverstream into a grateful hug.)
Twilight: (from o.s., brightly) How’s the canoeing… (Cut to her on the bank, surprise deflating her.) …going?
Smolder: (sourly) About as good as the apple shed building.
(The castaways wade/fly to shore; Rainbow is now wearing her stopwatch again.)
Rainbow: I totally had things under control— (Her, Twilight, and Applejack.) —until Applejack messed ’em up. (Sound of a magic change under the end of this.)
Applejack: I did not!
(Long overhead shot: Ocellus and Silverstream are back to their original forms and wearing the vests and helmets.)
Rainbow: Did too!
Applejack: Did not! (Ground level: Twilight/Gallus/Smolder.)
Gallus: (dryly, to Twilight) Yep, it’s been like this all day. (Pan to frame Sandbar on the following.)
Sandbar: I wouldn’t say all day, just…ninety-nine percent of it.
(Close-up of Twilight, turning a venomous, narrow-eyed glare toward the camera, then dissolve to a long shot of her leading Applejack and Rainbow away for a little talk farther along the bank. The two instructors have ditched their safety gear, as have the students watching in the fore.)
Twilight: I can’t believe this! You’re not teaching teamwork! You’re competing with each other! I thought you were past that.
Rainbow: We are! (Applejack gives her a funny look.) Mostly.
Applejack: We got carried away with wantin’ to be the Teacher of the Month, is all.
Twilight: The Teacher of the Month wouldn’t care about being the Teacher of the Month. I know Fluttershy would be thrilled to see another pony win. That’s it! (leaning into their faces) I’m taking over this field trip!
(She puts her back to them and walks away, leaving them to trade looks of purest panic.)
Applejack: Hold up, Twilight! (Twilight stops.) Don’t count out Rainbow Dash for the award just yet. You shoulda seen her fire up those students to build a shed.
Rainbow: (to Applejack) No way! You’re the one the students listen to. Besides, you saved us from those pony-eating fish.
(The toothy grins that split both faces do very little to shift Twilight out of her profound skepticism, if a single raised eyebrow is any indication.)
Rainbow: Uh, long story. But Applejack should definitely be Teacher of the Month.
Twilight: Hmmm…maybe you two have learned something after all.
Applejack: Does that mean you’ll give us another chance at the Teacher of the— (Rainbow claps a hoof over her mouth.)
Rainbow: —field trip?
Twilight: Well…
Rainbow: Come on, Twilight! We get it! (Applejack nods.) No more arguing. Right, Applejack?
Applejack: Right as rain and twice as fresh.
(They trade a high five and smile brightly at Twilight.)
Twilight: Fine. But I’m picking the next activity you two lead—a nature walk. Nopony could possibly argue over that. (pointedly) Right?
Applejack, Rainbow: Right!
Applejack: See? (Rainbow nods.) We’re agreein’ already!
(The boss trots away with a satisfied nod as both grin and wave after her. Dissolve to an overhead shot of a forest path and pan slowly ahead to frame the eight-member excursion following it. Cut to ground level as they reach a fork in the trail. Applejack and Rainbow both adopt a tone of exaggerated courtesy bordering on obsequiousness throughout the next nine lines.)
Applejack: Well, look at that. The path splits up ahead. (pointing to each choice in turn) Left, or right? (She ponders; Smolder puts a hand to her face and groans softly.)
Smolder: Here we go again.
Applejack: Where to, Rainbow Dash?
Rainbow: I was thinking right—unless you want to go left, because what makes you happy makes me happy.
Applejack: Aw, heck. Forget about me.
(Cut to the mildly irked students, who begin turning their heads to follow the conversation as if watching a tennis match.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) You want to go right, we’ll go right.
Rainbow: (from o.s.) But teamwork means listening to other ponies, so it’s up to you.
Applejack: (from o.s.) Well, aren’t you as sweet as sugar apple pie? But it’s up to you. (Yona grumbles to herself before speaking up.)
Yona: Follow me! Yak know best way!
(She clomps resolutely ahead along the left fork, the other students taking their cue from her before either mare can react.)
Applejack: Hey, where y’all goin’?
(She and Rainbow break into a gallop to catch up. Dissolve to the group on the move through the forest and not looking too thrilled about it, Applejack and Rainbow bringing up the rear as they pass a boulder covered with moss and vines. Another dissolve brings them to a stop at a pair of trees growing on opposite sides of the path, partly uprooted, they have toppled toward each other to form an X that leaves only a small space to squeeze through underneath. Rainbow makes an “after you” gesture to Applejack, who shakes her head and returns it. When Rainbow repeats her offer, Applejack nods and they move ahead together, only to end up wedged side by side in the gap under the trees. Gallus’s tap at one of Yona’s horns brings a big grin to the latter’s face; she paws at the ground and charges, knocking both teachers loose, then ushers the other students on ahead.)
(Dissolve to the group continuing their walk past the same boulder seen a few moments ago, Sandbar pausing briefly to take note of it with some confusion, then to a stretch of a path that adjoins theirs to form a T-junction. Applejack and Rainbow emerge into view in the background, following the straightaway portion of the T, and agree to continue along it. All eight charge along this path and o.s., then cross the screen again much closer to the camera. Within seconds they are racing/flying back and forth in all directions, finally gathering for one massed rush past the camera in the fore.)
(Dissolve to the boulder as they pass it for a third time; now, Ocellus stops with Sandbar and he points it out to her with genuine worry before they carry on. One last dissolve brings the students to the edge of a cliff; zoom out to a long shot as Applejack and Rainbow catch up.)
Ocellus: I think we’ve gone in the same circle five times. (Close-up of the six.)
Sandbar: (acidly, over shoulder) Only because someponies won’t make up their minds about which way to go.
(Pan slightly to frame Applejack/Rainbow as more nasty looks come their way. Strained polite grins appear on both faces.)
Rainbow: Do you want to keep going in a circle, Applejack?
Applejack: Up to you, Rainbow Dash. I insist.
Rainbow: (chuckling) No, no. I insist.
Applejack: (chuckling, scowling) But I insisted first. (Rainbow copies her expression.)
Silverstream: Are we still on a field trip? ’Cause this just feels like being lost.
(Putting a hand to her face with a disgusted groan, Smolder lifts off to do a quick bit of aerial recon. Cut to the uppermost reaches of the Castle and School of Friendship jutting through the forest canopy and pan/zoom out to frame the group in a long shot some distance away.)
Smolder: (landing) We can still get back to school before dark if we cross that ravine and stop doubling back.
(A mildly panicked glance between Applejack and Rainbow gives way to casual grins.)
Rainbow: We knew that. All part of our plan. (poking Applejack) Right, Applejack?
Applejack: Uh…yep! All we have to do is, uh…
(Cut to a long shot of the next plateau over on the end of this; she moves into view to survey the gap between it and the cliff.)
Applejack: …build a bridge ’cross that, uh, giant canyon, and we’re home free! That is, if…if you think a bridge is a good idea.
Rainbow: Only if you want to build a bridge.
Gallus: STOOOOOOP!! (calmer) Listen. We can just fly everyone over and be done.
Applejack: Nope. There’s still plenty of time to teach y’all a lesson in teamwork.
Rainbow: Cooperation!
Applejack: Togetherness!
Rainbow: You are so right.
Applejack: Only as right as you are. (Smolder pops up between them.)
Smolder: Okay! We’ll build a bridge! What do we use?
Applejack: Branches!
Rainbow: Vines!
(The ersatz camaraderie instantly turns into squinting hairy eyeballs. A pause.)
Applejack: Vines!
Rainbow: Branches!
(Again a bit of silent, unfriendly scrutiny.)
Applejack: I’m goin’ with your idea. Vines! No buts about it.
Rainbow: I-I’m building with your idea! Branches! End of story!
(Dissolve to the six students, watching in complete bewilderment as the two barrel back and forth. Applejack is depositing lengths of vine in one pile, while Rainbow gathers branches in another. After several passes, the camera cuts to the blue flyer setting a piece in place on a crude framework, then to the apple farmer slinging a vine lasso ahead of herself to catch on a rock. Meanwhile, the students are becoming increasingly bored, with Ocellus adding a yawn for emphasis.)
(Cut to Applejack, putting the finishing touches on a very droopy vine bridge, and zoom out. It is strung between rocks on opposite sides of the ravine, and Rainbow adds one last bit to an equally rickety span constructed from branches. Applejack pulls in the slack on one vine, the free end clamped in her teeth.)
Applejack: Why use a branch when you can use a vine? (It snaps, sending her flying.) Whoa!
(The students have just enough time for one shocked gasp before she ends up hanging on for dear life by her forelegs. Having spat out the piece in her mouth, she manages to haul herself up to a slightly more stable position that brings relieved sighs from the onlookers. Rainbow fits a branch into her tottering bridge, only for it to begin splintering almost immediately.)
Rainbow: Why didn’t I think of branches to begin with? They’re so—
(She trails off into a yell of fright as a fair portion crumbles around her, dumping her onto her belly.)
Rainbow: (deflated) —easy to work with.
(The students gasp again as both teachers sway in the wind, Applejack having stood up, looped vines around a couple of legs, and grabbed another in her teeth.)
Applejack: (amid grunts) Now these here vines are just the thing, Rainbow Dash! (Rainbow nudges a couple of branches back into place.)
Rainbow: Not to disagree, but these here branches are the way—
(This time, the whole thing gives way to drop her with a yell. Applejack echoes it, releasing the vine in her jaws, just before Rainbow and a shower of wooden debris come right down on top of her. The vine bridge disintegrates, and both mares and materials plunge out of sight. They wind up entangled in a mass of vines and branches and swinging precariously through empty air; Applejack no longer has one in her teeth.)
Applejack, Rainbow: HEEEEEELP!!
(During this, the camera cuts to a longer shot that points up just how much of a fix they are in. The bits have tangled together to form a sort of cable that stretches from one side of the ravine to the other; they are dangling from its midpoint, several yards above the river in which they were canoeing in Act One. The students edge cautiously up to peer in after them.)
Ocellus: (timidly) But at least now they’re agreeing on something.
(Fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the trapped pair, the vines creaking ominously as they swing gently back and forth. Rainbow struggles to break loose, to no avail.)
Rainbow: I can’t get out!
Applejack: Let me try.
(She manages to poke one foreleg out, wrapped in several turns of vine that she knots into a lasso. This is flung upward, but proves too short to reach the top of the cliff; her face falls at the miss, and it winds up dangling just above the surface of the river. Right on cue, up come a couple of the bite-acuda fish that menaced the group in Act One to chomp it apart.)
Rainbow: Let me guess. (Others start leaping and screeching.) Bite-acudas?
Applejack: (nodding sadly) Mmm-hmm. And they look mighty hungry.
(Cut to the students’ clifftop.)
Sandbar: We gotta get our professors out of there! Anycreature have a plan?
Gallus: Leave ’em hanging?
Silverstream: What?!?
Gallus: (smiling) I’m kidding! (Pause.) Kinda. (The bite-acudas’ splashes drift up; cut to Ocellus.)
Ocellus: We need to work fast, and together! (The clamor is joined by a creak of the supporting vines.) But mainly fast.
(Several of them choose to snap, leaving one intact and dropping the hapless mares closer to a future as fish food. Cut to them.)
Applejack: I hate to admit it, but— (They lurch downward again.) —this whole mess is kinda our fault.
Rainbow: Yeah. No trophy’s worth getting eaten over.
Applejack: (smiling) So what do you say? You want to team up and get ourselves outta this here pickle barrel?
Rainbow: (ditto) I thought you’d never ask.
(Neither of them notices the giant bite-acuda, nearly their size, with Ocellus’s coloration that eases into view from the side as she speaks. Zoom out slightly; she is using her new bat wings to keep herself aloft, and the two yell in fright upon getting an eyeful of the transformed changeling. She cries out in response, but quickly gets herself under control with a smile.)
Ocellus: Don’t worry. I’m just the distraction.
Rainbow: Ocellus?!
Applejack: (sighing) You nearly scared the cutie marks off us!
(Ocellus dives back and slowly surfaces into a hover to face down the other fish, starting with a guttural growl that blooms into a full-throated roar and a few chomps of her formidable teeth. They waste no time in peeling out, screeching in terror and skipping across the water as she chases them away. Now the very last vine holding up Applejack and Rainbow gives way; they go into free fall with a doubled scream, only to jerk to a stop with inches to spare. Cut to a few feet above them, Silverstream’s talons extended into view to hold one clump of broken strands.)
Silverstream: (from o.s.) Need a lift?
(Both mares boggle up at her, a longer shot revealing that Gallus is also on the job. Griffon and hippogriff hoist them back up to the clifftop and set them down.)
Yona: (charging in with Sandbar/Smolder) Yak smash!
(Hooves, teeth, and claws make short work of the plant-based prison; Applejack and Rainbow take their time standing up amid its remains with open wonder.)
Sandbar: Welcome back, Professors!
Rainbow: Now that was a rescue!
Applejack: And y’all did it together! (Cheers from the five students.)
Gallus: No big. Those fish weren’t even a thing.
(But he quickly changes his tune when he hears Ocellus’s growl and pivots to find her hovering just behind, mouth open far too wide for comfort. His yell of fear draws an embarrassed giggle from her.)
Ocellus: Oops. Sorry. (She resumes her natural form.)
Silverstream: (giggling) Best field trip ever!
(Dissolve to the exterior of the School and zoom in slowly as they head for the front doors. The sun is beginning to set. Inside, Twilight paces the entrance hall, but stops at the sound of the creaking hinges.)
Twilight: Huh? (All enter.) How was the field trip? (crossing to them) What did you all learn?
Applejack, Rainbow: Uh…
Yona: Yak learn ponies smart!
Silverstream: Yeah! Professors Applejack and Rainbow Dash were such good teachers!
Gallus: It was kinda crazy genius. They showed us what not to do so we’d figure out what we should do. (Silverstream nods.)
Twilight: (puzzled) Really?
Sandbar: It took us a while to get it—
Smolder: —especially at the ravine. It woulda been so much easier to just fly home.
Silverstream: (stepping forward, on the verge of giggles) But instead, our professors built bridges the wrong way just to show us how important teamwork is!
Gallus: Yeah. That was super-dangerous. (Cut to Applejack and Rainbow; he continues o.s.) Talk about commitment!
(The two grimace at this shower of thoroughly unearned and unjustified praise. Back to him, Ocellus, and Silverstream; Twilight turns to them.)
Ocellus: (hesitantly) We know it’s too early to pick the Teacher of the Month, but we’d like you to consider Rainbow Dash and Applejack.
Twilight: Thank you for telling me. I’m so glad to hear your field trip was a success. I’ll make sure to schedule another one right away.
(The students disperse with a chorus of cheers, leaving a visibly disconcerted Applejack and Rainbow in their wake. Twilight turns to them with a sly smile.)
Twilight: You were actually just competing the entire time— (nudging Applejack) —weren’t you?
Applejack: To tell you the truth…yeah.
Rainbow: Well, not all the time. (to Applejack) I agreed with you for the whole nature walk.
Applejack: (needled) Only ’cause you were anglin’ for that Teacher of the Month award!
(Twilight rolls her eyes with a “here we go again” look, sighs, and walks away. The following lines overlap somewhat. Now, a bust of Rockhoof can be seen off to one side of the hall, a detail not previously seen in this area, leaving all six Pillars of Equestria present and accounted for in the entrance hall.)
Rainbow: (hovering in Applejack’s face) You were the one doing the angling!
Applejack: (scoffing) You were more like fan-danglin’!
Rainbow: What does that even mean? No one here can understand your country-bumpkin talk!
Applejack: Look, we all live in the same town here!
(Fade to black.)
THE BREAK UP BREAK DOWN
Written by Nick Confalone
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to an extreme close-up of a pie baking in a hot oven. Heart-shaped cutouts mark the crust, and the pan in which the dessert rests has the same contour. The camera points out through the door’s transparent window to frame the décor of the kitchen at Sweet Apple Acres, and the very worried face of Big Macintosh rises into view to peer in at the pie. From here, cut to a profile close-up of the big workhorse as he turns his attention to a kitchen timer on a nearby countertop; after a long, searching stare from the green eyes, the dial ticks ahead by one minute. Sweat beads on the red face and a growl builds in his throat as the device obstinately refuses to advance any faster.)
(A longer shot frames both him and Spike in the kitchen, which is liberally bedewed from floor to ceiling with assorted spills and splatters. The daytime sky is visible through the windows, and Macintosh sits on his haunches.)
Spike: You said it, Big Mac. This is taking forever! (crossing to oven) I know it’s wrong to cut corners when it comes to gifts from the heart, but…this is an emergency, right?
Macintosh: (nodding emphatically) Ee-yup.
Spike: (voice raised) Discord? A little help! DISCORD!
(A great deal of nothing happens, prompting a heavy sigh from the little guy, but Macintosh is quick to whisper in his ear.)
Spike: (brightening) Yeah, oh, good idea!
(A grinning nod from the stallion; Spike chuckles, clears his throat, and jumps onto the broad back as Macintosh stands up.)
Spike: Captain Wuzz! Are you prepared to enter the world of Ogres and Oubliettes?
(Being the fantasy role-playing game that Discord played with the two in “Dungeons & Discords.” An almighty poof, and the chaos master has materialized in the kitchen, the shock wave pitching them aside. He is dressed in his archer outfit from that episode, braided blond mane and all—including the parsnip-transformed talons that resulted from his backfired “Transform into Root Vegetable” spell—and his eyebrows have gone the dark gray of his character.)
Discord: Huzzah, fellow adventurers!
(Behind him, the background dissolves to the gridded fantasy landscape he conjured up for their game, studded with giant dice.)
Discord: (conjuring/drawing bow and arrow) Shall we storm the ramparts of Squizard’s castle to reclaim Calico’s Ring of Imperceptibility?
(Back to Macintosh and Spike, who have respectively fallen to haunches and all fours on the kitchen floor. Following an embarrassed little smile and grin from the pair, Discord eases off the tension on his bowstring.)
Discord: You did summon me for a rousing Guys’ Night of Ogres and Oubliettes, did you not?
Spike: Uh…sort of. But… (thumbing over shoulder toward oven) …do you think you could magically hurry up this pie real quick first?
Discord: You seem to be mixing up the lord of chaos with a second-rate clown magician for hire.
(During this line, he exchanges his outfit for a royal red robe, crown, and gold scepter topped by a model of his own head, fixes his talons, and then switches right back again. As he presses the digits of his lion paw together, ready to snap himself out of the joint, Macintosh and Spike shoot upright in a panic.)
Macintosh: Ee-wait! (Discord relents.)
Spike: This needs to go in the mail today or it’ll never get to Sugar Belle in time for Hearts and Hooves Day! (Macintosh blushes and laughs soppily to himself.)
Discord: (scornfully) Please. (Close-up.) Can’t you see that that holiday is a commercialized ruse, pushed on you by the greeting card industry?
(A pointed throat-clearing by the o.s. Macintosh brings him out of his rant; cut to the oven window as a hefty hoof taps on it, then zoom out to frame its whimpering owner.)
Discord: (exasperatedly) Fine. You owe me for this.
(A snap changes his outfit to the baggy, wildly colored garb of a circus clown, complete with ridiculously oversized bow tie, bushy orange wig, and red rubber-ball nose. His talons are back to normal, and he twirls a magic wand that has appeared in his lion paw to instantly move the pie from the oven to a midair spot near Macintosh’s eye level. Pony and dragon trade a gleeful high five as it descends a foot or two.)
Discord: Keep your eye on the pie—it’s magic time!
(A tap of the wand against the crust fills the screen with a white flash, which fades to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to a close-up of the pie, now steaming quietly as it rests on a countertop, and tilt up slightly as Discord leans over for a deep sniff. He has shed both his clown and Captain Wuzz getups and returned his eyebrows to their normal white.)
Discord: This smells…uh…palatable.
Spike: Well, pies really are Sugar Belle’s thing, but I think that makes this all the more special. (to Macintosh) It shows you’re interested in what she cares about.
Macintosh: (grinning) Ee-yup!
Spike: And he’s planning a big romantic Hearts and Hooves dinner. It was my idea to bake the invitation inside.
(A shove from the draconequus sends him tumbling to the floor, and a lion-paw snap magicks said invitation—a greeting card stained with dough and filling—up for a quick inspection. The crust caves in slightly at its removal. Cut to Discord’s perspective as he opens it; the front bears a heart nestled in a horseshoe, as does the interior along with a hoof-written message.)
Discord: (reading) “Happy Hearts and Hooves Day, Sugar Belle. Meet me in my barn at sunset…” (Back to the three.) “…for a surprise.”
Spike: Pretty clever, huh?
Macintosh: Ee-yup!
(His big goofy grin and giggle are met with Discord’s weary sigh and a snap that returns the card to the pie, the crust plumping back up. The big guy claps giddily over it, then sets to with wrapping paper and twine as Discord and Spike lean in to check out his efforts.)
Spike: (warmly) Awww…
(Close-up of the end result: a box bearing a tag marked with a scatter of sugar cubes to the left of a bell.)
Spike: (from o.s.) …Sugar Belle. (pointing out symbols) See? (All three again.)
Discord: (disdainfully) Well, you two certainly have bought into this romance nonsense hook, line, and sinker.
Spike: (dryly) For a formerly friendless immortal despot, you’re pretty cynical.
Discord: I’m a realist. And love, like all things warm and fuzzy, isn’t real.
Spike: (smugly) Aw, come on. You act tough, but deep down you’re a softie. I mean, you don’t have tea with Fluttershy every weekend because you like tea.
Discord: But I do like tea! Every tea, all the teas!
(An instant later, he has popped up on a television screen displaying a kitchen and donned a chef’s white toque and stained jacket, as well as a red bow tie and pencil-thin mustache. Various plants and flavorings used in the making of different types of tea scroll past as he speaks, his voice sounding slightly tinny as if coming through an old speaker.)
Discord: Chamomile, Earl Grey, green, white, yellow, mate, lemon, ginger, chai, spearmint, peppermint, hibiscus… (Deep breath.) …cinnamon, pumpkin spice!
(“Mate” is pronounced “mah-TAY.” The screen slides down and o.s., reverting him to his normal appearance and voice as he straightens up to face Macintosh and Spike. With an irritated grumble, the lovestruck equine bites down on the box’s twine wrappings and starts toward the door; cut to the barnyard as he throws it open and sets out.)
Spike: (to Discord) Tell you what. While Big Mac mails his incredibly romantic gesture, I’ll show you the splendors of Hearts and Hooves Day in Ponyville. I bet I can prove you believe in love.
Discord: Fine. Call it a gentleman’s wager. (extending lion paw to Spike) Loser mows my lawn for eternity.
(The offer catches Spike very much off guard, but he grabs one furry digit—all that he can hold, given the size mismatch between their limbs—and shakes. Close-up.)
Spike: Is it like a riding mower, or…? (Discord reaches into view, holding a pair of…)
Discord: (from o.s., gleefully) Tweezers!
(The baby dragon swallows hard, now knowing fully what he has just gotten himself into. Dissolve to the interior of a post office, where a uniformed Derpy Hooves is on duty behind the counter. Having just accepted a package from the departing Cherry Berry, she consigns it to one of the cubbyholes in the wall rack behind her as Macintosh trots up. He sets his box on the counter and, at her nod, breaks into a high-spirited whinny as hearts briefly appear in his eyes. The big lug takes a page from Pinkie Pie’s playbook and hops out of the place.)
(As for the box, it is scooped up and slotted into a cubbyhole, a hoof reaching in from the other side to pull it away. Derpy finds a smudge of ink on her hoof, transferred from touching the label, but wipes it clean on her collar. Cut to a back room filled with barrels and bins of letters, a conveyor belt for packages, and a roll-up gate at which a delivery wagon has backed up. Three pegasus mares are on the job, one each at the rack, belt, and gate, and they flip/kick/toss pieces back and forth with practiced ease. Macintosh’s box trundles along the belt, the sugar cubes on its label now smeared beyond recognition, and makes its way across the room to become part of a stack of three. The other two go in the bins, while this one lands among the wagon’s cargo and is hauled away in a boil of dust kicked up by the wheels.)
(When the haze clears, the view has shifted to a long shot of the main barn at Sweet Apple Acres. Zoom in slowly.)
Apple Bloom: (voice over) Hear ye, hear ye!
(Cut to the Cutie Mark Crusaders in the barn. She stands on a hay bale to face Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, who sit with boxes of Hearts and Hooves Day paraphernalia before them.)
Bloom: This special Hearts and Hooves Day meetin’ of the Cutie Mark Crusaders is now in session. First order of business— (Close-up.) —helpin’ my big brother decorate the barn for his big date with Sugar Belle tonight, and—
(A rustling stops her short and gets on her nerves in a hurry.)
Bloom: (sighing) Hel-loooo?
(The source of the disturbance proves to be the other two rummaging through their boxes.)
Sweetie: (to Scootaloo) It seems like everypony’s got somepony special but us.
Scootaloo: When’s it gonna be our turn? (Knocking from o.s.)
Crusaders: Huh?
(Bloom trots across the space; cut to just outside the door as she opens it in close-up. Nothing out of the ordinary comes to her eyes right away.)
Bloom: Huh?
(Zoom out to frame a box resting on the ground, then cut to inside the barn again as Scootaloo and Sweetie cross toward the door to the sound of its slamming shut They are soon intercepted by the yellow filly, who has the twine wrappings in her teeth; Scootaloo gasps happily.)
Scootaloo: Who’s it from? (Bloom sets it down.)
Bloom: Can’t tell.
(A close-up picks it out as the one containing Macintosh’s pie.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) It’s all smudged, but it looks like it’s addressed to… (All three.) …Bell? Hmmm…
(After a moment’s thought, her unicorn colleague sucks in an incredulous gasp that pushes her lung capacity to its very limit.)
Sweetie: Sweetie Belle!
(Under the influence of her horn, the label is yanked off and the paper/twine ripped away so she can put a hoof to the box lid. Despite its rough handling at the post office, the pie is entirely intact, cushioned by a nest of paper hearts in varying shades of pink. Sweetie lifts it free.)
Sweetie: Somepony certainly went through a lot of trouble… (Gasp.) …for me, on Hearts and Hooves Day!
Scootaloo: (gasping) You don’t think…?
Sweetie: Could it be? (Bloom pops up to separate them.)
Bloom: Hang on a minute. Mysterious package…smudged address… (smiling) …no idea who it’s from… (slyly) …hmph. I know what this is. (to Sweetie, beaming) You got a secret admirer!
(“Address” is pronounced with the emphasis on the first syllable, as occasional heard among speakers with a Southern accent. All three start bounding in a circle around the treat, squealing and shouting out their glee at these new romantic developments. Dissolve to a pan along a Ponyville street, every building fully decked out for the day and setting the tone for the many ground- and air-based demonstrations of affection. The camera stops on Discord and Spike as they emerge from a side road, the dragon voicing a contented sigh.)
Spike: Another Hearts and Hooves Day. Love is in the air, Discord. Look at all these happy couples.
Discord: How can they be happy if they aren’t playing Ogres and Oubliettes?
Spike: As a great dragon poet once wrote to his beloved… (Close-up.)
“I love you with the utmost clarity.
(He stops to pull a heart off a nearby bush.)
I love you, dear, my sweet, sweet Rarit—”
(Rhapsodizing turns to rancor as the camera zooms out to show Discord lounging alongside and trying to construct a model in a bottle. He has donned gold-framed pince-nez eyeglasses, strung on a cord around his neck, and is manipulating a pair of long tweezers.)
Spike: Are you even listening?!
Discord: Of course. Love is…something, something, and Discord is great. I don’t know.
(He pivots to the dragon, tossing the bottle aside.)
Discord: (impatiently) Can we play O-and-O now? (Spike has discarded the paper heart.)
Spike: Sure, after you admit you believe in love and… (Eyes pop.) …Sugar Belle!
(He dives into the bush and yanks Discord in after him—the latter now having ditched his specs—with almost no time to spare before that particular unicorn trots past. Both peek out to watch her making a beeline for the front door of Sugarcube Corner, whose top half is open.)
Spike: Big Mac’s girlfriend! (She lets herself in through the bottom half and closes it again.) What’s she doing in town so early?
(Cut to the shop floor; the two guys peek in over its edge to find Mrs. Cake speaking with Sugar.)
Mrs. Cake: (chuckling a bit) Well, Sugar Belle, I-I’m sure Big Mac won’t be expecting it. (Outside; Spike gasps and he and Discord duck away.)
Spike: She’s planning her own romantic surprise for Big Mac? What if she goes to Sweet Apple Acres before Big Mac’s ready with his surprise? (socking fist into palm) We’ve gotta warn him!
(He begins to run away from the front step, all grim resolve, but manages no more than a few steps before a contemptuous little scoff escapes Discord’s throat and a snap zaps them away. Cut to the Sweet Apple Acres kitchen, where Macintosh is tending a soufflé on the stove.)
Macintosh: (singing to himself) …fflé, cookin’ a sou…
(His melody is lost under the arrival of Discord and Spike, the latter still keeping every bit of his forward momentum and trailing off into a yell as he skids to a face-first halt against the oven. Tilt up from him to Macintosh, the impact jarring the soufflé.)
Macintosh: (as it collapses) Ee-whoa!
Spike: (now o.s., woozily) Mig Bac… (Longer shot; he staggers across the kitchen with a groan.) …Mig Bac… (Shake the head clear.) …I mean, Big Mac! We just saw Sugar Belle! She’s at Sugarcube Corner, but I think she’s on her way over here, now! You gotta keep her away from here until the barn’s finished!
(The scarlet pony gasps sharply and steels himself.)
Macintosh: Ee-yup!
(He gallops out, leaving the other two behind; Spike leans against a cabinet, using an arm to prop himself up.)
Spike: I wonder what she has planned for him.
Discord: (chuckling richly) We don’t have to wonder.
(His snap takes them away from the cooking area and back to the bush near Sugarcube Corner. Spike arrives in the same leaning position, but the lack of support for his hand causes him to fall in among the greenery, a pained grunt floating back out. He pokes his scowling face clear.)
Spike: Will you warn me next time you do that?
(The chaos master offers a sheepish grin just before the front door swings open to let Mrs. Cake and Sugar out. At nearly the same time, the guys catch sight of Macintosh pelting down the street toward the bakery.)
Mrs. Cake: (whispering, to Sugar) Just be honest with him. I’m sure Big Mac will—
Spike: (to Discord) Ohhh! She hasn’t seen him yet! Take note, Discord—this is what love is all about.
(Whereupon Discord vanishes himself and pops up next to Spike in the bush, now equipped with a notebook and pencil to get the essentials down.)
Discord: (dictating as he writes) “Spike: ‘Love is about spying in the bushes.’”
Spike: Make fun of me all you want— (pointing in Macintosh’s direction) —but look at Big Mac’s face and tell me you don’t believe in love.
(Pan quickly up the block to the crimson Romeo, galloping in slow motion with hearts in eyes and others floating in the air behind him. Normal speed resumes with a cut back to Discord and Spike, the latter sputtering out his disbelief. Pan to Mrs. Cake and Sugar on the start of the next line.)
Sugar: I hope he’ll be okay without me.
(Macintosh’s gallop comes to a screeching halt, the hearts in eyes and air vanishing at remarkable speed. He hurls himself into the bush with a panicked cry and peeks out in close-up, the camera zooming out to frame all three occupants; Discord has ditched his note-taking tools.)
Spike: Oh. Hey. We’re just…not spying.
Macintosh: Hush!
(All three drop out of sight just before the two mares trot by without a care in the world, Sugar pausing only briefly to run a puzzled eye over the foliage.)
Sugar: (as Macintosh/Discord/Spike peek out after them) I mean, he has been on his own before, so he’ll be fine, right?
(Zoom in quickly on the surveillance crew, these words not sitting at all well with any of them, then cut back to the mares.)
Sugar: (sighing) How should I tell Big Mac tonight? “You won’t need to come visit me in my village anymore”? (Macintosh stares, dumbstruck; they stop.) “We need to talk.”
Mrs. Cake: Just be honest with him.
Sugar: You’re right. Okay. “We’re finished.”
(The sweat trickling down from the orange mane tells much about his state of mind, but the rest of his face gets into the act to slam on an emphatic postscript. Green eyes pop to panicked points as the mouth beneath them pulls in a colossal gasp overlaid on a freaked-out whinny. Zoom in quickly on his chest, the view resolving to a close-up of a large, beating red heart that turns to lifeless gray stone and shatters into pieces, then cut back to him. He topples onto his back in a dead faint past Spike in close-up.)
Discord: (from o.s.) You’re right.
(Zoom out to frame him back at work on his bottled model with pince-nez and tweezers.)
Discord: She did surprise him.
(The baby dragon claps a hand to his face with a disgusted groan. Fade to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of the main barn at Sweet Apple Acres. Zoom in slowly to the sound of Macintosh’s anguished wailing and cut to him in the kitchen, punctuating his crying jag with a long pull at a mug of cider. Spike moves up to the table at which he sits with chin plunked firmly on the edge.)
Spike: Okay. Things seem bad. Maybe they’re really not. Maybe “we’re finished” was about the day. Uh, ponies say that, right? Like…like, “Hey, remember yesterday? That’s finished, ’cause it’s today.”
(This farfetched bit of reasoning draws a highly skeptical, highly bloodshot glare from over Macintosh’s shoulder.)
Spike: Maybe not that. (A new idea hits.) Oh! I know! (Zoom in slowly.) Maybe Sugar Belle has a wacky cousin who’s never been on his own, and she has to leave him in charge of her shop while she apprentices with Mrs. Cake, who does that, like, two days a week,—uh, no, no, three. That’s why she won’t need you to come to her village anymore, because…she’ll already be here.
(This completely out-of-left-field bit of reasoning earns him a tentative grin, but he soon dismisses it.)
Spike: Nah. I don’t even buy that one.
(And here goes the heartbroken galoot all over again, bawling and guzzling.)
Macintosh: She takes pie bakin’ seriously! Why’d I even try? I bet she thought I was makin’ fun of her!
(He voices a long, lugubrious cry as Discord winks in to let his head hang down from ceiling level. He has shed his glasses and put away his model work from the end of Act One.)
Discord: Oh, I hate seeing you like this, Big Mac. (He slithers down to a standing position.) And over a girl, no less. I’m calling an emergency Guys’ Night right now to cheer you up.
(On the second half of this last sentence, he conjures up a handkerchief and the camera cuts to Macintosh as it is offered. The item is taken, used for an extremely forceful spell of nose-blowing, and passed back dripping wet.)
Discord: (revolted, wringing it out) Besides, we can’t have you ruining any more of my thousand-year-old monogrammed handkerchiefs. These are silk, you know.
(A snap transports them out of the kitchen. Cut to the tropical-styled nightclub to which Discord briefly took the others in “Dungeons & Discords,” only empty and silent now. The three appear on three adjacent seats at the bar, he now clad in the orange suit, red fedora, pencil-thin mustache, and other accoutrements he wore during that visit. As a milkshake settles in front of each, he claps a hat onto Macintosh’s brain case, then provides one to Spike once the latter points an irked finger at his own head. Discord has disposed of the hanky, and Macintosh’s eyes have cleared.)
Discord: Class is now in session. (He zaps himself in behind the bar.) Lesson one—nothing can break your heart if you only love yourself. You’ve got to show everypony that you’re too cool to be bothered with so-called love.
(Both forelimbs wrap to embrace the sinuous body during this line; at its end, he produces a monocle and peers closely through it at Macintosh.)
Discord: Observe.
(Another flash sends it away and deposits him next to Macintosh, where he leans insouciantly against the end of the bar under a spotlight that has suddenly flicked on.)
Discord: (lazily) This is how cool guys lean against things. When you see a guy leaning against a thing looking this cool, you think, “Wow! That guy doesn’t have a care in Equestria. Not a guy who leans on things that cool.”
(Spike stands on his stool and tries to copy Discord’s pose.)
Spike: I don’t think leaning’s gonna help. (He stands on his stool, tries to copy the pose, and addresses Macintosh.) Am I doing it right? (Slip.) Whoa!
(He manages to lose his balance and drop o.s., losing his hat and sending up a pained grunt once he hits the floor. Discord hooks his digits into the corners of Macintosh’s mouth and pulls them up into a toothy grin, but they almost instantly sag into a grimacing frown once he lets go. By the time Spike is back up on his stool, the draconequus is behind the bar again.)
Spike: We’re not like you, Discord. We can’t put on a front and pretend not to love. It’s impossible.
Discord: Lesson two—plenty of ponies in the pasture. Right, Big Mac? I know just the gal to make you forget all about Sugar Belle.
(The mention of that name causes the green eyes to pop wide open in very painful surprise and utterly destroy Macintosh’s composure.)
Macintosh: (tearing up) You said her name! (He ends up crying with his head on the bar.)
Discord: Oy vey.
(His snap transports them from this place. Cut to the exterior of the busy Ponyville Café, nearly all of its outdoor tables occupied.)
Bloom: (walking into view with Scootaloo/Sweetie) Okay. We finished decoratin’ the barn for Big Mac, which means we got the rest of the day to ourselves. There’s a whole town of possible admirers out there, and only three of us. But together, we’re gonna get to the bottom of this. (rearing up) Ready? Break!
(They peel out in three different directions. Cut to Pipsqueak ambling along.)
Bloom: (racing up to him) Excuse me! Pipsqueak, mind answerin’ a few questions? (No response.) No? (circling to cut him off) Late for somethin’? (excitedly; he quails) Are you Sweetie Belle’s secret admirer?
(Now Scootaloo accosts a colt wearing a propeller beanie.)
Scootaloo: Excuse me! I’m doing a research survey about sending pie in the mail anonymously. Would you say you’re pro-that or anti-that?
(The inane premise brings a funny look from the would-be respondent. Cut to Snips and Snails out for a stroll as Sweetie pulls even with them.)
Sweetie: Happy Hearts and Hooves Day. Did you boys happen to send any packages to me recently? (smiling weakly; they regard her with trepidation) It’s okay to say no. I won’t be offended. (to herself, wincing) Please say no, please say no, please say no…
(Dissolve to the gridded game landscape and zoom slowly as a flash delivers Macintosh, Discord, and Spike to it, all dressed as their Ogres and Oubliettes characters from “Dungeons & Discords.” Macintosh is the knight Sir McBiggin, Discord’s talons have once again turned to parsnips now that he is Captain Wuzz, and Spike is the wizard Garbuncle. A snap from the archer creates a cardboard token decorated with a drawing of a female pony skeleton wearing boots, a deep pink neck scarf, and a pearl necklace and carrying a battle axe. The mane and tail are ragged and pale pink. The picture reacts with considerable confusion as Discord tips it toward Macintosh.)
Discord: Sir McBiggins [sic], meet Skeleanor. She’s a level-eighteen bone warrior in Squizard’s mage army, but only to pay off skeleton student loan debts
(Skeleanor somehow manages to blush despite having no blood vessels in the bony cheeks.)
Discord: Get to know each other… (Snap; both vanish.) …why don’t you?
Spike: Wow! You’re really going all out to cheer up Big Mac! I’m impressed.
Discord: (straightening up) Yes, yes, I’m amazing. Anyway, since we’re in the neighborhood, care for a quick game of Ogres and Oubliettes— (snarling, sweating, paw/talons to temples) —like I’ve been wanting to play all week?!?
Spike: I take it back.
Discord: I’m helping our friend, first and foremost. (He whips out a token of a spyglass.) See for yourself.
(Spike takes the device and holds it up to one eye, peering along its length as if it were an actual optical instrument. Cut to his perspective, framed as the view through a telescope: Macintosh and Skeleanor on the opposite bank of a stream and commiserating over the photograph of Sugar that Macintosh is showing her. When the camera cuts back to Spike, he stretches the playing piece out a notch, the drawn-on spyglass extending to match; from his perspective, a quick zoom in clearly picks out the photo. Back to Spike again.)
Spike: I think he’s showing her a picture of Sugar Belle.
Discord: What?
Spike: And now he’s crying.
Discord: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. No, he’s not. (reaching for spyglass) Let me see that.
Spike: Don’t touch it! I’m looking!
Discord: Give me that!
Spike: Cut it out, Discord! Quit it!
(In a trice, Discord has popped the two of them over to the unhappy couple; the glass is now gone.)
Macintosh: (blubbering) She used to do this thing where…her-her nose would wrinkle when she laughed— (pointing at Skeleanor’s nasal cavity) —right there! In that hole where your nose used to be! I never told her how much I loved “wrinkle-nosed cutie face.” (collapsing, crying gushes of tears) AND NOW I NEVER WILL!!
(A fed-up groan from Discord is the prelude to a snap that takes the trio away, leaving a mildly puzzled/annoyed Skeleanor in their wake. Cut to the interior of the Sweet Apple Acres barn, on which the Crusaders have indeed done quite a job of decorating: bunting on the rafters and windows, hearts prominent in every feature of the décor from balloons to tablecloths to treats, a table set up to provide a candlelit dinner for two. The gamers reappear here, out of their characters’ outfits and with Discord’s talons restored, and Macintosh’s water works kick in as soon as he lands spreadeagle onto his belly.)
Spike: Okay. I think we’ve had enough of the elite master of chaos’ remedies for a broken heart.
(Macintosh stops crying on the end of this, after which Spike turns to him with a smile.)
Spike: You know what I do when I have a problem too big to solve? (Pace away a few steps.) I hide from it! When she can’t find you, she’ll realize how much she misses you. Plus, if she can’t find you, she can’t break up with you.
Macintosh: (catching on) Ee-yup.
(He wastes no time in getting upright and bounding across the barn to hide behind a stack of hay bales. Spike copies the tactic, diving into a bale near the opposite wall, and a snap turns Discord into one that plops squarely into the middle of the floor. Its efficacy as a disguise is somewhat compromised by his still-visible eyes and mouth. Comes now the sound of the main door being opened, accompanied by a widening shaft of light from o.s. that falls across the space; cut to the Crusaders entering the barn and looking rather down in the dumps.)
Scootaloo: (sighing) I don’t get it. We asked every stallion in Ponyville.
Bloom: (groaning) There’s gotta be somepony we’re missin’.
(She hops up to sit on one bale in the stack sheltering her brother.)
Bloom: Somepony obvious. Somepony right in front of our noses! (Macintosh listens intently.)
Sweetie: Oh, well. (smiling) At least the barn’s looking great for Big Mac’s date.
(Her improving mood quickly spreads to the other three faces, Macintosh casting an eye over the decorations. His contentment is short-lived, though, as a miniature Discord materializes on the bales next to him.)
Discord: (smugly) Too bad there won’t be a date.
Sweetie: (to Bloom/Scootaloo) Sugar Belle is so lucky to have a non-secret admirer like Big Mac. (Cut to Macintosh and Discord.)
Discord: (to Macintosh) Well, she certainly doesn’t seem to have appreciated it.
Bloom: (from o.s.) I bet she’s gonna take one look at this barn and say, “What did I ever do to deserve this?”
(The great red face hardens a bit as the chaos connoisseur leans in toward one ear.)
Discord: (pointedly) Yes, what did she do to deserve this?
Macintosh: (tearing up) She…broke my heart!
Discord: Well, not yet, technically. In fact, she can’t break your heart if you break hers first.
Macintosh: (with fierce, angry resolve) Ee-yup!
(Wipe to the exterior of Sugarcube Corner and zoom in slowly.)
Sugar: (voice over) Thanks for the tour of Ponyville, Mrs. Cake.
(Cut to these two on the shop floor inside. Two sacks of flour and a bottle of milk stand on the planks between then, and Mrs. Cake. adds a second bottle.)
Mrs. Cake: Oh, my pleasure.
Sugar: I’m off to surprise Big Mac with the news. Imagine the look on his face when I tell him… (somberly) …“We need to talk.”
Mrs. Cake: (laughing nervously) Oh, dear me, no. I-I told you, don’t say it that way, or he’ll think you’re breaking up with him.
Sugar: (taken aback) Break up with him? Never! (smiling warmly) Why, without my favorite delivery pony, I couldn’t imagine being happy ever again. He knows that.
Mrs. Cake: Good! Save your mix-up for cake batter, that’s what I always say. (Laugh.)
Sugar: (pacing) He’s a good listener, that pony. I promise you, no mix-ups.
(“That pony” appears just inside the door thanks to a bit of Discord’s magic, not a trace of good humor in his bearing.)
Sugar: Ah! Big Mac!
Macintosh: Sugar Belle, we need to talk.
(Cut to a close-up of the mare, zooming in slowly as the smile runs away from her face and her eyes flick fearfully from side to side, and fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the two ponies.)
Macintosh: I know why you’re here.
Sugar: (smiling hopefully) You do?
Macintosh: But I have somethin’ to tell you first.
Sugar: Oh, can I go first? I’m gonna be— (He leans into her face.)
Macintosh: Stop.
Sugar: Oh. Why don’t we tell each other on three? One—
Macintosh: It’s over! (He backs off.)
Sugar: What’s over?
Macintosh: You, and me. It’s over!
(Her breath catches in her throat as tears pool in the red-violet eyes.)
Sugar: What?
(Macintosh leans against the closed bottom half of the front door, propping a foreleg on its upper edge to emulate Discord’s pose during the nightclub visit in Act Two.)
Macintosh: We’re breakin’ up.
Sugar: I…don’t understand. Why are you breaking up with me? And why are you leaning like that?
Macintosh: (voice trembling slightly) I…don’t know! (Sugar crosses to him.)
Sugar: Big Mac, please talk to me!
Macintosh: I…you…
(Words having utterly failed him, he lets go with a frustrated yell and throws the door open.)
Macintosh: (tearing up) This is why I don’t like talkin’! Words can hurt! Words hurt! Goodbye, Sugar Belle!
(The bottom half slams shut as he gallops away, leaving a flabbergasted Sugar to dissolve into tears. Dissolve to the stallion plodding glumly down the street; the passage of Lyra Heartstrings brings him up short, and he glances over to see her and Bon Bon trading wrapped gifts and embracing. As he continues on his way, the camera cuts to a close-up of two items lying close together on a patch of grass—a small rock with the string of a pink heart-shaped balloon tied to it, and a stick adorned with a pink bow. The items prove to be Boulder and Twiggy, the respective pets of Maud Pie and her squeeze Mudbriar, who was introduced in “The Maud Couple.” They sit holding hooves under a festooned arch as Macintosh clomps away, his spirits sinking yet another notch.)
(Close-up of a plate of well-sauced spaghetti on an outdoor table, a strand extending up at an angle from either side. A longer shot puts Cranky Doodle Donkey and his wife Matilda on either side, the former wearing his original dark toupee as seen in “A Friend in Deed.” Seated outside the Ponyville Café, they have actually caught opposite ends of the same long strand in their mouths and are sucking it in, drawing closer to a kiss and blushing bashfully in the bargain. All the other tables are occupied by happy couples, but Macintosh continues his unhappy perambulation past the property.)
(Dissolve from a close-up of his face to those of the Crusaders in the barn at Sweet Apple Acres, deep in dissatisfied thought, then cut to a chart they have set up on an easel. Mounted on it are seven photos in a rough circle—the four they questioned in Act Two, along with Sweetie, Chip Cutter, and Rumble. Those of the six colts are circled, with lines connecting them to that of the grinning filly. The sound of the door opening snaps them out of their ponderings and brings them around to a three-way smile.)
Bloom: Big Mac! (He trudges in.) Oh, thank goodness! You gotta help us with this!
(She gets no farther before a rustling from near the window marks Spike’s tumble out of the hay bale in which he concealed himself during Act Two.)
Spike: (to Macintosh) Dude, how long have you been not hiding?
(Discord pops into being, having resumed his normal size as opposed to the shrunken proportions he took on while hiding out with the workhorse earlier.)
Discord: (shrugging) Oh. I should probably have said something.
Macintosh: Y’all should go.
Spike: Did you…did she…are you… (A grave nod.)
Bloom: Big Mac, what’s goin’ on? Where’s Sugar Belle? (Macintosh squeezes his eyes shut and turns away.)
Macintosh: Just go!
Sweetie: (crossing to him) But we worked so hard on this chart. (He has now sat on his haunches.) I think we’ve almost cracked it! If you could just—
Macintosh: (standing) Not right now!
Sweetie: But I can’t stand having a secret admirer who’s too scared to tell me who he is!
Macintosh: Maybe he doesn’t like talkin’!
Sweetie: But that doesn’t make any sense!
Macintosh: (rounding on her) Maybe he used to talk too much and it only ever got him into trouble!
(The other five in the barn react as if he has just bashed them over the head with a full-grown oak tree, Sweetie’s eyes brimming with stunned tears. A long silence as the outburst sinks in on all sides.)
Spike: (sighing) What if you’re right, Discord? What if love isn’t real at all?
(The anatomical mishmash mulls over this idea, taking in the deflated mood that has settled over the rest. A glowing light bulb suddenly appears over his head in time with a wide-eyed smile of inspiration, and both he and it vanish.)
Macintosh: I’m sorry, Sweetie Belle. I’m just mad and I’m takin’ it out on you.
Sweetie: (smiling) That’s okay. I bet it felt good to get it out, though.
Macintosh: (perking up) Actually, it did. Tellin’ you how I felt just then…
(Now it is his turn to fall silent under the strike of an idea.)
Macintosh: I gotta go! (He bolts for the door.)
Spike: Big Mac! Where you going?
Macintosh: (stopping at doorway) I gotta talk to Sugar Belle! (Exit.)
Spike: Discord, you gotta use your magic and—
(Only now do he and the Crusaders take note of the joker’s exit.)
Spike: (shrugging) Guess you have better things to do. Big Mac’s gonna need a miracle.
(Dissolve to Sugar joylessly towing a cart filled with baking supplies away from Ponyville. The sky has advanced to late afternoon; she pauses for a moment to cast a doleful glance toward it and the festively decorated down spread out behind her, then carries on with a heartbroken sigh. As the cart rolls through a mud puddle, one wheel wobbles and breaks off the axle, stopping the forward motion—and then the entire cart topples toward that side.)
Sugar: Of all the rotten luck.
(Unhitching herself, she strains her magic to lift the cart back up to the level, then braces it with her forelegs and levitates the wheel back into place. The cargo is intact except for a few apples that have tumbled out. Her hind legs slip in the mud, dumping her onto her back and causing the wheel and cart to keel over again so that a few more apples hit the ground. The now-filthy mare cracks one eye open to stare blearily at a broad red foreleg extending toward her, then grabs hold and allows herself to be pulled upright. After a hasty wipe to clear the muck from her face, she finds herself looking Macintosh dead in the eye.)
Macintosh: Caught you just in time! (He lets go of her hoof and scratches the back of his head.) We both know I don’t like to say much, but I’m gonna say somethin’ now. (Deep breath; zoom in slowly.) Even though I’m hurtin’, I wouldn’t trade this feelin’ for anythin’, because it’d mean givin’ up the good times we had too. And I only broke up with you because…you were gonna break up with me. I respect your decision, and you should know— (tearing up) —you’ll always be in my heart.
Sugar: (confused) I didn’t want to break up with you.
(She rests her muddy hoof against his.)
Macintosh: (pushing it back) But…you said you don’t need me to visit anymore. You said I’m gonna be on my own. I…I-I…I heard you said “we’re finished” when I was hidin’ in the bushes.
(The admission gets him a very funny look from Sugar.)
Macintosh: (sheepishly) That sounds worse than it is.
Sugar: (smiling) Oh, Big Mac, I was talking about my cousin! I have this wacky cousin who’s never been on his own, but I have to let him run my shop on weekends. Which is why you won’t be delivering to my village anymore, because I’ll already be here apprenticing with Mrs. Cake, who does that two days a week—uh, no, three.
Macintosh: (floored) Wait ’til I tell Spike!
Sugar: I’d never break up with you.
(The two share a gentle nuzzle, the gunk all over her body notwithstanding, and he turns his attention to the cart. Within moments he has righted it, fitted the wheel back on, and hammered it into place.)
Sugar: (crossing to him) I suppose there’s a lesson here somewhere about communication—talking instead of assuming, or “eavesdropping is wrong.” Wouldn’t you say? (He stands to face her.)
Macintosh: Ee-yup!
(She breaks into a snorty little giggle that causes her nose to wrinkle up slightly, prompting him to laugh in return.)
Macintosh: Wrinkle-nose cutie face. (He plants a kiss on her forehead.) You musta been awful confused at my breakin’ up with you after you got my pie.
Sugar: What pie?
Macintosh: You didn’t get the pie I sent?
Sugar: (shaking head) Mmm-mmm.
Macintosh: Or the invitation?
Sugar: (shaking head again) Uh-uh.
Macintosh: Well, in that case… (He sets her in the cart’s front edge and hitches himself up.) …allow me to escort you to a Hearts and Hooves Day surprise!
(Here come the cute little giggle-snorts again as he starts back toward Ponyville. Dissolve to a tract of orchard land in Sweet Apple Acres, the camera pointing past the end of the ramp leading up to the Crusaders’ clubhouse. Sweetie sits on a tree stump watching the sunset; she sighs sadly in close-up, but the camera pans to frame the approaching Bloom and Scootaloo in time with the sound of their scurrying hooves. Scootaloo’s teeth are clamped onto the edge of a plate that bears the pie Macintosh baked.)
Bloom: Mind if we join you?
(She pulls a slice free and holds it up for Sweetie to levitate over to herself. Hopping off the stump, the young unicorn smiles and takes a bite, only to drop it and clap a hoof to her mouth as her cheeks suddenly bulge out. The combination of a hearty burp and her magic extracts the invitation that had been baked inside; she opens it as Scootaloo chows down.)
Sweetie: (reading) “Happy Hearts and Hooves Day, Sugar Belle. Meet me…”
(The realization that the pie was never meant for her is a thunderbolt through all three minds.)
Crusaders: Sugar Belle?!?!?
Scootaloo: You have got to be pulling our hooves!
Sweetie: It was all a mix-up?
(Now they laugh over the absurdity of the day’s events.)
Sweetie: Oh, it’s funny! I’ve been sitting here feeling sorry for myself for not having a special pony on Hearts and Hooves Day, but…remembering all the fun we had? I think I have two special ponies—my two best friends.
(A three-way group hug as the camera zooms in.)
Crusaders: Awww…
(Dissolve to a close-up of Spike walking through Ponyville, Discord’s legs visible just behind. The dimmed light and the chirping of crickets point to night having fallen.)
Spike: (sighing contentedly) And so ends another Hearts and Hooves Day. Despite a bumpy start, and middle, and ending—lot of bumps today— (Longer shot; couples pass here and there.) —love was in the air.
Discord: So was confusion, apparently, and a fair number of assumptions. (Close-up of Spike.)
Spike: But you have to admit, after seeing everything Big Mac went through, love is one hundred percent real.
(The sound of Discord’s tuneless humming throws a healthy shot of sand into his mental gears; as the camera zooms out quickly, he looks back to find that his fellow traveler has deserted him.)
Spike: (annoyed) Seriously?
(Cut to the trickster, who has seated himself at a table outside Sugarcube Corner to work on his model in a bottle some more. Unlike the previous two instances, he is not wearing the pince-nez glasses.)
Spike: (crossing to him) Discord, come on! I can’t believe you!
Discord: Who do you think broke Sugar Belle’s wagon wheel?
(With a calculating twitch of the tufted eyebrows, he sets the container down on its side in front of Spike. The neck has been corked, and the finished product can now be seen in full—a small-scale replica of Sugar’s cart, one of whose wheels falls off on the same side as the actual one. Discord stands up from the table.)
Discord: Ta-da! Happy Hearts and Hooves Day!
Spike: (smiling knowingly) You old softie. (Laugh.) I knew you had a heart! (Discord leans down to him.)
Discord: Speaking of how great I am, are you busy for the rest of the night?
(His snap puts them in their Ogres and Oubliettes character outfits, including his parsnip hand.)
Discord: Calico’s Ring of Imperceptibility isn’t going to reclaim itself, you know.
Spike: Ogres and Oubliettes? (chuckling) I thought you’d never ask. (self-consciously) Oh, and just wondering, no biggie, but…is Skeleanor gonna be there?
Discord: Spike, she’s an imaginary one-dimensional paper cutout skeleton.
Spike: Well, nopony’s perfect.
(Giving the little guy a very odd look, Discord snaps to fill the view with a flash of white, which subsides to leave the screen black.)
MOLT DOWN
Written by Josh Haber
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to Rarity and Spike following a trail through a stretch of woodland during the day. The unicorn has her saddlebags slung up, while the dragon has a hand up to cover a spot just past the outer corner of his right eye and angles his head to keep her from seeing it.)
Rarity: I do appreciate you showing me the way to the phoenix nest, Spike.
Spike: Anything for you, Rarity. Besides, I’ve been meaning to visit Pee-Wee.
(Recall that Pee-Wee was the baby phoenix whose egg Spike saved from being smashed in “Dragon Quest,” brought back to Ponyville to raise, then returned to the wild at some point before “Just for Sidekicks.” A degree of puzzlement registers on Rarity’s face as she tries, without success, to get a clear look at whatever Spike is trying to conceal.)
Rarity: He really was an excellent pet. Can’t imagine why you set him free. (Both stop.)
Spike: (easing away from her) Phoenixes aren’t meant to be domesticated. Even in the wild, they like to keep to themselves.
Rarity: (circling around him, steadily speeding up; he pivots away) Well, they are beautiful. A few of their feathers will add just the right splash of color to my latest—
(Finally losing her patience, she hoists him up with her magic and sees his cover-up in full.)
Rarity: Spike! (He is set down facing her.) What are you doing?
Spike: (grunting, easing away) Nothing!
Rarity: Is there something wrong with your face? (Long pause.)
Spike: (sighing) It’s a stone scale. It isn’t magical or anything, like the call of the Dragon Lord. It’s just…red… (scratching spot) …and itchy…
(His grunt of discomfort and the motion of his fingers combine to reveal an inflamed spot and a partly dislodged scale on that cheek.)
Spike: …and embarrassing.
(Zoom in to an extreme close-up that frames the diamond-shaped, throbbing lesion, then cut back to the two.)
Rarity: Oh, precious pants, that does look uncomfortable. But even I get the odd blemish from time to time. It’s nothing to be embarrassed by. (Both start along the trail again, Spike briefly covering the spot.) You could pay Zecora a visit. She makes a cream that works wonders. Just don’t get the shampoo.
(Referring to her near-total mane loss after inadvertently using heavy-duty cleaner as shampoo in “It Isn’t the Mane Thing About You.” A few more steps bring them to a tree that hosts a nest occupied by a fully grown phoenix, whose mate descends to perch alongside it with a cry of affection.)
Spike: There’s Pee-Wee’s parents! (They embrace.) But I don’t see Pee-Wee.
Rarity: Oh, maybe he moved out. Everypony has to leave the nest at some point.
(Spike mulls this over as a third firebird swoops in from behind them, blowing Rarity’s mane/tail sideways with its turbulent wake.)
Spike: (elated, waving) Pee-Wee!
(As he hurries toward the nest, the camera cuts to the cawing new arrival, sporting the same magnificent red/orange/yellow plumage as his elders. No longer the chick Spike took in, he is full-grown and stands perhaps half again as tall as the baby dragon when he doubles back to land on the trail so the two can hug. A light brush of the tip of Pee-Wee’s beak against Spike’s afflicted cheek causes him to jump backwards in pained surprise.)
Spike: Ouch!
(Whereupon his avian buddy takes to the trees with an alarmed squawk, a couple of feathers dropping loose and fluttering down to the turf. Rarity is quick to float one of these up and into her bags.)
Rarity: Perhaps you should pay Zecora a visit sooner rather than later.
Spike: (sighing, pointing to spot) I don’t want anypony else to see this. Besides, I’m sure it’ll clear up after a good night’s sleep.
(The unicorn’s grimace reveals just how little stock she puts in this opinion. Dissolve to a close-up of Spike in bed and wrapped up in a blanket, within his bedroom at the Castle of Friendship. Only his tail and the top of his head are immediately visible, and he snores heartily as the camera zooms out to frame the entire room, whose curtains and door are closed. A magic glow wreathes the knob and pulls the door open so Twilight Sparkle can peek in.)
Twilight: I can’t believe you’re still asleep!
Spike: (grumbling, muffled by blanket) Just five more minutes…
(The tail makes itself useful by tucking the cloth completely down around itself and the feet, left exposed by his stirring, and the snoring resumes. His boss is having none of it, though; she enters the room, opening the curtains with horn-power.)
Twilight: It’s nearly noon and you promised to help me with my lecture for class today. (He sits up in bed, facing away from the camera.)
Spike: Noon? Whoa! (rubbing eyes) I slept like a rock! Which reminds me— (facing Twilight) —all that sleep probably cleared up my stone scale.
(Or not, judging from her popping eyes and stunned gasp.)
Twilight: Um, on second thought— (laughing shakily) —you can go back to sleep if you want.
(Her tentative grin turns into a look of mild horror as he runs a hand over his face. Cut to a wall mirror as he crosses to it for a look at himself, giving the first clear view of his face since he woke up. The angry red stone scales have formed clusters that dot his cheeks, forehead, and nose; he claps hands to temples and uncorks yell of pure fright before the view snaps to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to Spike’s bedroom as he hastily yanks the window curtains shut and huddles under the blanket on his bed.)
Twilight: Spike, what are you doing?
Spike: (muffled by blanket, as she sits on her haunches by the bed) Hiding from my hideous face.
Twilight: (patting him) I’m sure it feels terrible, but it’s just a breakout. It’s not the end of the world. (He peeks sourly out at her.)
Spike: That’s easy for you to say. Your face isn’t covered in itchy red spots. (He scratches madly at a few.)
Twilight: I used to get terrible breakouts, anytime I had a final exam with Celestia— (under her breath) —who probably never had a blemish her whole life!
(The acerbic recollection ends with a placating grin directed at her number-one assistant.)
Spike: Well, I’m not in magic school.
Twilight: (standing up) No, but these things can be stress-related, and you did spend yesterday with Rarity.
Spike: (laughing weakly, half-hiding behind blanket) What could possibly be stressful about that?
Twilight: (groaning, magically re-opening window curtains) You could try Zecora. She makes a cream that—
Spike: —works wonders. (Toss off blanket.) I’ve heard.
(He plods across the room; close-up of the mirror and his approaching image.)
Spike: (squashing cheeks) But I’m not leaving the Castle until my face is back to its adorable self.
(His attempt to squeeze one spot as if it were a pimple only causes him to wince audibly in great pain; Twilight’s reflection leans into view next to his.)
Twilight: Fine. (levitating a stack of notes to him) But you’re still gonna help me practice my lecture.
(The scaly secretary voices a weary groan and glances at the topmost sheet as she steps away. Cut to a close-up of her in the middle of the floor, clearing her throat.)
Twilight: The Element of Generosity and its importance in relation to the other Elements of Harmony—
(This is as far as she gets before a gout of green fire blazes across the screen behind her, accompanied by a mighty belch. It lasts a good two seconds before dying away to leave scorch marks over most of the furniture behind her. She whirls to find Spike standing in an equally barbecued zone, staring wide-eyed with one hand clapped over his mouth and the other holding a pile of ashes that used to be Twilight’s lecture notes.)
Twilight: (gasping, floating them back to herself) My lecture! (They plop sadly to the floor.)
Spike: I don’t know what happened! (She pokes at them.) I just had a sudden case of—
(Now it is his turn for words to fail him, caused this time by bulging cheeks that portend another incendiary blast. Twilight teleports away a split-second before he can cook her where she stands, then returns behind him with a fire extinguisher floating in her aura. Its foamy contents spray out from the nozzle, covering every square inch except for his eyes.)
Spike: —indigestion. (Face and arms poke out.) I’m so sorry!
Twilight: Ooh, that’s okay. (floating up a second pile of papers) I’m sure I can rewrite the lecture from my notes. (scratching back of head) I have a lot.
(Now free of the foam, Spike reaches eagerly toward the stack.)
Spike: I can help you with— (She hastily shifts them out of grabbing range.)
Twilight: (pointing toward door) Maybe you should leave the Castle after all, and go somewhere less…flammable?
(Her big dopey grin just causes his spirits to sink a little lower; he trudges toward the exit with a deflated sigh. Dissolve to a long shot of the front entrance to the School of Friendship. Now clad in a trenchcoat with turned-up collar, fedora, and oversized sunglasses, Spike plods along the walkway leading to the open doors and stops to sit and gaze at his reflection in the perimeter lake. The shades are removed.)
Spike: Hey there, not-handsome.
Rarity: (from o.s., singsong) Oh, Spi-i-ike!
(Well and truly scared out of his wits by that voice, he looks toward the door and finds the white mare waving to him from the step, no longer wearing her saddlebags. By the time she makes her way out to him, he has clapped the sunglasses back on and stood up.)
Rarity: (as he stands up) My, what a fetching ensemble you’ve put together! Very noir-esque. (giggling, poking his nose) I believe Shadow Spade herself would approve.
Spike: (hurrying past, tilting hat down over eyes) Uh, thanks. (She hustles to catch up.)
Rarity: But I wonder if you wouldn’t mind taking it off. (Both stop.)
Spike: What? Oh, I, uh, I…
(He turns away, voice trailing off into a mumble.)
Rarity: (hoof cupped to one ear) Sorry, you’ll have to speak up. (scratching at it, voice raised) My ears are a little bit clogged or something. (pacing, normal volume) It’s just that I absolutely must have a model for my phoenix-feather dress, and nopony else is available.
Spike: Sorry, Rarity, but I…I am super-busy all day…giving…tours of the School. (Big grin.)
Pinkie Pie: (from o.s.) Really?
(All four eyes widen at the sound of this voice; cut to Pinkie at the end of the walkway that gives onto the side entrance of the Castle. She is holding a long-handled sign showing the School’s crest and leading a group of tourists.)
Pinkie: I thought I was giving tours today. Guess not. Free day!
(With a joyous whoop, she pitches the sign over her shoulder and hops off along the stepping stones that branch to either side from the walkway. The visitors aim a great many puzzled stares at Rarity and Spike, the latter pulling his coat collar up even farther and shrinking into himself as he sinks from sight. Wipe to the School’s courtyard, Spike now carrying Pinkie’s sign and leading the tour group as students go about their daily activities. His next words are punctuated by occasional pained grunts and bouts of scratching.)
Spike: (hastily, pointing in various directions) Classrooms are that way, dorms are that way, Twilight’s office is up there, this is a fountain… (Throw the sign aside and scratch like mad.)
Tourist: Uh, could you slow down a bit? Heh…we’ve come a long way to see the School, and I-I don’t want to miss anything.
Spike: Oh! Um, yeah. (Grunt and scratch.) Sorry.
Tourist: I-Is something wrong?
Spike: What? Why? No!
(But his sudden drop onto his back, so he can get his legs up to work a spot under his chin, gives the lie to these words.)
Tourist: Uh, do all the dragons at this school suffer from scale issues? (Spike stands up.)
Spike: (raspy whisper) I don’t know. (He massages his throat.)
Tourist: What?
Spike: I don’t know!
Tourist: (hoof to ear) I-I’m sorry, did—did you say “fireworks show”?
Spike: I said… (full volume) …I DON’T KNOW!!
(The shift comes with no warning, startles the tourist into falling on his rump and losing his cap, and throws a good scare into the rest of the group. Spike gasps at his outburst and hurries away, the hapless stallion sitting rooted as the others scramble to keep up with the tour. Shaking his head clear, this one jumps to his hooves, grabs the bill of his cap in his teeth, and gallops after them.)
(Wipe to a slow pan through the School’s library, which boasts shelves at both the ground floor and around a balcony. Students are using tables, floor cushions, and armchairs in the pursuit of academic excellence as a unicorn mare floats books out of the cart she is pulling and slots them back onto the shelves. Cut to Sandbar, Smolder, and Yona reading and taking notes at one table, then to a long shot of the entire room as Spike leads the tour group in.)
Spike: THIS IS THE SCHOOL LIBRARY! IT’S ONE OF THE MOST SERENE SPOTS ON CAMPUS, WHERE STUDENTS CAN SPEND TIME IN QUIET REFLECTION OR STUDY!
(Very long pause, marked by hopelessly perplexed stares on the visitors’ part.)
Spike: WHAT? (The studios trio approaches, Smolder more than a bit put out.)
Smolder: Could you please stop shouting? We’re trying to do our homework, and it’s kind of distracting.
Spike: (scratching) WAS I SHOUTING?
(The tour group mumbles in the affirmative.)
Spike: (clearing throat, scratching, normal volume) I have no idea what you’re talking—
(Just as in his bedroom, his gut chooses this moment to generate a blast of green flame—this one lifting him nearly to the balcony and burning his disguise to ash. He thuds gracelessly onto his back, revealing that the stone scales have now spread all over the violet portions of his hide. Some are red, others purple; he sits up and looks himself over with fresh panic.)
Spike: Huh?
(He jumps up and bolts from the library, shouting and scratching, as Smolder directs a quizzical look after him. Dissolve to a T-junction of two hallways, the orange dragon flying slowly past along the straightaway. Just after she has gone, a resounding belch sounds from behind one door, which bulges outward to release the same emerald pyrotechnics. Smolder doubles back on foot as streams of black smoke dribble out; cut to the door’s other side as she lets herself in to find Spike sitting despondently in a storage closet. Fumes waft up from both nostrils to join the dense blanket already floating overhead.)
Smolder: If you’re trying to hide, you need to do a better job. All I had to do was follow the smoke. (She closes the door as Spike tries to wave it away.)
Spike: (raspy whisper) Leave me alone!
Smolder: (leaning closer, hand to ear) What?
Spike: Leave me alone!
Smolder: I can’t under—was that “sleeves made of foam”?
Spike: (to full volume) I said, leave ME ALONE!!
(And here comes a fresh incinerating blast, which Smolder barely avoids by going airborne. A heap of cinders can be seen in a corner behind Spike, marking the unfortunate end of some innocent supply item due to the shot that attracted her attention. This one destroys a number of brooms and mops and lasts long enough for him to swivel his head through 180 degrees; it is followed by Spike’s weary sigh and Smolder’s laughter from o.s. above. Cut to her, hanging from the ceiling rafters.)
Smolder: Wow! I have seen some pretty bad molts in my time, but yours takes the cake!
Spike: Molts? (Smolder drops down.)
Smolder: (poking, circling around him) The molt? Super-painful stone scales? Fire burps? Uncontrollable volume shifts? It’s all part of growing up dragon. Congrats!
(A celebratory slap on the back causes him to wince and cry out in pain.)
Smolder: Oh. Sorry.
(Zoom in slowly on Spike as a fresh wave of worry overtakes him, then fade to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to Smolder lounging at the closet’s window, sitting on the sill with her back and legs propped against opposite sides while her tail dangles toward the floor. She regards Spike’s nervous pacing with a degree of bewilderment.)
Spike: No, no, no, no, no. The last time I grew up, I turned into a giant greedy monster!
Smolder: (nodding) Greed-induced bigness. That’s totally different.
(A reference to the little guy’s uncontrolled growth spurt in “Secret of My Excess.” She hops off the sill.)
Smolder: The molt is completely normal. Every dragon goes through it. Pretty soon you’ll leave and strike out on your own.
Spike: Why would I do that?
Smolder: (incredulously) Have you been living with ponies your whole life?
Spike: (nodding) Uh-huh.
Smolder: Oh. Well, in the Dragon Lands, a molter’s loved ones kicks [sic] them out at the first stone scale.
Spike: What? Why?
Smolder: Well, I think it’s biological. We call it the molt effect. I haven’t even told you about the smell.
Spike: Smell?
(Sniffing at one armpit, he voices a cry of revulsion.)
Smolder: Yeah. I mean, I love my brother and all, but one whiff and I was all, “See you!”
(Now she risks a lungful of his aroma, her brain nearly locking up as a result.)
Smolder: Speaking of which… (She goes for the door.)
Spike: Wait! (He throws herself down and grabs her tail.) Does the molt effect happen to ponies too? (Gasp.) Twilight already asked me to leave the Castle today! If she kicks me out, where am I gonna live? I’m too young to grow up!
Smolder: (pulling her tail free) I’m sure you’ll find a nice hoard of gems to guard or a village to terrorize. (An idea occurs to her.) Oh, now that dragons and ponies are friends, I guess that’s off the table.
Spike: (standing up) So no creature’s gonna want to be around me?
Smolder: Oh, I didn’t say that. That molt stench is a magnet for predators. Tatzlwurms, hydras, rocs…
Spike: (skeptically) Dragons are scared of rocks?
Smolder: R-O-C-S. Rocs? (hovering in his face) Humongous birds of prey that can snack on a molting dragon like candy. (Touch down.)
Spike: (raspy whisper) So Twilight’s kicking me out and the only creatures who don’t find me disgusting want to eat me?
Smolder: Seriously, I heard none of that.
Spike: (full volume) TWILIGHT’S KICKING ME OUT AND THE ONLY CREATURES WHO DON’T FIND ME DISGUSTING WANT TO EAT ME? (He claps both hands over his mouth.)
Smolder: Congrats!
(Comes now the sound of the door opening; Pinkie peeks in.)
Pinkie: HEY! IS THIS THE SHOUTING CLOSET? BECAUSE I’VE GOT A FREE DAY AND I’M TOTALLY UP FOR SOME SHOUTING!
(Her toothy grin goes bye-bye in the time it takes her to sniff the air.)
Pinkie: Also, where’s that Brussels-sprouts-covered-in-cotton-candy smell coming from? (smiling slyly) Because it is really interesting.
(The downcast Spike finds himself on the receiving end of both her penetrating stare and Smolder’s smug sidewise glance as the camera zooms in to a close-up. Behind him, the background dissolves to the interior of Zecora’s hut.)
Spike: I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t take the chance that Twilight will kick me out. You aren’t getting any molt effects, are you?
(Almost as soon as the zebra leans in to scrutinize him, her gorge rises and both blue-green eyes begin watering profusely.)
Zecora: (pinching nose) When it comes to breakouts, I’ve seen all circumstances.
(turning to shelves) But as for the molt’s smell…
(A quick bit of fiddling, and she pivots back to him with her nostrils clamped shut by a pair of clothespins. The nasal tone caused by the pinch continues.)
Zecora: ….let’s not take any chances.
(The patient gets caught up in a fit of scratching and sighs quietly during a brief respite.)
Spike: Is there anything you can do to cure me?
Zecora: The ailments you have aren’t something to cure.
The molt’s a condition that dragons endure.
(Cut to Spike; rattling from the shelves underscores his next words.)
Spike: But if anypony sees or smells me right now, they’ll be so grossed out they’ll avoid me forever! (Zecora retrieves a gourd.)
Zecora: Perhaps we can lessen this strange molt effect.
The smell is the most likely cause, I suspect.
(She sets the container down.)
Spike: (raspy whisper) It’s also embarrassing.
Zecora: (poking at ear) I know you are speaking, but I can’t hear a thing.
Are you talking about teaching asparagus to sing?
Spike: (to full volume) I said, it’s EMBARRASSING!!
(As he hastily covers his mouth, Zecora backs away and stuffs a wad of cotton into each ear.)
Zecora: If the goal is to not have your friends all depart,
Perhaps your volume is where we should start.
(Spike’s gut rumbles warningly…)
Spike: Oh, no.
(…and the bulging of his cheeks gives Zecora enough time to zip behind him and angle his head toward the base of her cold caldron. The belch, when it comes, lifts him several feet into the air for its duration and does a fine job of putting the heat to the pot. He sighs resignedly before a new voice butts in.)
Rarity: (from outside, muffled by door) Zecora! Hel-looo? Are you there?
Spike: (grabbing Zecora’s chest) I CAN’T LET RARITY SEE ME LIKE THIS! PLEASE DON’T LET HER KNOW I’M HERE!
(The herbal expert casts a concerned eye toward the door. Cut to a long shot of Rarity outside, knocking vigorously at it and wearing her saddlebags, and zoom in slowly as Zecora swings it open.)
Rarity: OH, DEAR! (Inside again; she enters.) I’M TALKING EVEN LOUDER THAN I THOUGHT, AREN’T I?
Zecora: I have volume concerns today by the scores,
But it seems that I’m ready to help you with yours.
Rarity: (digging in ear) UH, I’M SORRY? I-I CAN’T SEEM TO HEAR ANYTHING! (grabbing Zecora’s chest) I WAS HOPING YOU COULD HELP! (Zecora extricates herself.) I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED! ONE MINUTE, I WAS SEWING PHOENIX FEATHERS ONTO A DRESS, AND THE NEXT, I COULDN’T HEAR MY OWN VOICE!
Zecora: Ah, the feathers of that bird can affect ponies’ ears.
It’s a magic ailment I’ve treated for years.
(Cut to the dim interior of a basket, Spike’s arms rising into view to lift its lid slightly—this is his perspective—and give him a view of the unicorn and zebra on the other side of the room. The first few words of the next line come through muffled until the lid goes up.)
Rarity: I ONLY KNOW YOU’RE TALKING ’CAUSE YOUR MOUTH IS GOING UP AND DOWN!
(A sigh; cut to her sniffing at the air and breaking into a violent retching spasm—the little guy’s emanations are now getting to her as well.)
Rarity: Oh, goodness! (glancing toward Spike’s basket; he hastily ducks away just in time) I hope that incredibly pungent odor belongs to some sort of magical curative.
(A clatter of instruments is heard under this comment, after which the camera cuts to Zecora pouring liquid into a bowl and mixing with a spoon in her teeth.)
Rarity: (crossing to her, scratching at ear) I HOPE YOU’RE NOT BUSY, BUT I MUST HAVE MY HEARING BACK! IT TURNS OUT THAT I TALK TO MYSELF WHILE I SEW, AND WITHOUT THAT CONVERSATION I SIMPLY CAN’T THINK!
(The cotton packed in Zecora’s ears has allowed her to finish the prep work without any distractions, and she finishes by trading the spoon for an ornate eyedropper whose tip is sheathed in a small vial. Close-up of this item resting on her hoof, zooming out to frame both on the next line.)
Zecora: It’s a simple cure, and the directions are clear.
(Rarity lifts it in her aura.)
Just one or two drops in each of your ears.
(With a sigh of relief, the designer extracts the dropper and applies the medicine as instructed while she speaks.)
Rarity: Oh, thank you. You’re an ear saver. (Back into the vial, then to her bag.) OH, AND WHILE I AM HERE, DO YOU HAVE ANY BLEMISH CREAM?
(Zecora recoils slightly at the apparent failure of her offering.)
Rarity: SPIKE IS HAVING SOME SCALE ISSUES!
Spike: (muffled, from within basket) YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!
(Cut briefly to an extreme close-up of him inside, sweating buckets and with hands clapped over his mouth, then back to Rarity and Zecora. The former pivots toward the source of the interruption with a surprised gasp.)
Rarity: I think I heard something! YOUR CURE IS WORKING ALREADY!
Zecora: (escorting her toward shelves) The cream that you want is just over here.
It’s a popular potion for all creatures this year.
(During the second line of this couplet, the camera cuts briefly to Spike’s perspective as he eases the lid up to watch the pair, then back to them as Zecora takes down a flask and offers it. Spike is now standing at the far wall, unseen by Rarity.)
Rarity: (sighing with relief, taking/stowing flask) Thank you, Zecora.
(While she is thus occupied, Zecora flips a nod to the stricken dragon, who pops open a small side window and slips out. Cut to a long shot of the hut as he puts his head up among the gnarled tree’s massive roots and bails out, just in time for Rarity not to see him when Zecora ushers her out. Zecora has shed the makeshift plugs for her ears and nose, and her voice returns to normal when next she speaks.)
Rarity: (trotting away) I DON’T MEAN TO BE RUDE, BUT I DO THINK YOUR HUT COULD USE AN AIRING OUT!
(A beat of silence after she has passed o.s.)
Zecora: (addressing the area) Rarity’s gone!
(No response, so she circles around to the window Spike used.)
Zecora: There’s no need to hide!
(Still nothing; she sniffs, grunts her distaste, and begins to pace the grounds. Her steps carry her toward a mask that is lying flat on the earth and trembling.)
Zecora: Though I wonder if we should continue outside.
Can’t treat your symptoms down there on the ground.
(lifting mask to expose Spike, backing o.s.)
It’s safe to come out. There’s no ponies around.
Spike: I’m not hiding from ponies. (pointing into air) I’m hiding from that!
(Cut to Zecora, who turns to look behind herself, and zoom out to frame a very large and very annoyed bird glaring down at her from its midair hover. The feathers on the back, wings, and tail are three shades of gray, the head and breast are white, and the belly and legs are tan. The beady black eyes with yellow whites are ringed by gray markings to form a natural mask, matching the tips of the white head plumage, and a brown band encircles the throat. The formidable talons are tipped in dark gray, and the entire creature—a roc—would easily stand at least five times Zecora’s height if it came in for a landing. It proceeds to deliver a deafening screech squarely into the earthbound zebra’s face. She recoils in silent fear as Spike cowers and covers his eyes, the camera zooming in slowly on both before the view fades to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a patch of empty sky against which the roc rises into view with a cry. It dives toward Spike and Zecora, the talons ripping a huge divot out of the forest floor but missing both of them.)
Spike: Did I forget to mention the molt smell attracts predators? (Scared grin.)
Zecora: That’s something that would have been quite nice to know.
(grabbing him) But it’s not worth discussing right now! We should go!
(Feet and hooves get moving at the sound of the roc’s approaching keen, but they get only a few yards before it touches down to cut off their escape. A point-blank screech sends them fleeing back the way they came, and it gives chase through the trees.)
Spike: It’s only after me! I’ll lead it away while you get help! (The two split up; he addresses himself overhead.) This way, birdy-bird! Molting dragon over here!
(Said dragon climbs a tree and hides among its boughs, only for the roc to tear most of them away in one snatch. He pokes his head up.)
Spike: Okay, maybe this wasn’t a good plan. (Pan to frame Zecora on the next line.)
Zecora: You can’t hide in a tree! You have to come down!
We stand a much better chance on the ground!
(As Spike slides down the trunk, she moves toward him but is grabbed up with a yell.)
Spike: Zecora! (addressing the roc) Bring her back!
(Before he can come to her rescue, though, a reddish glow briefly suffuses his entire form and he is caught up in a scratching fit that leaves him snarling in agony. Here comes the roc, its free talons extended to pluck him away; he comes to his senses and breaks into a dead run, which ends when he plows into Rarity and crashes down on his back.)
Rarity: Oh, Spike, what are you doing here?
Spike: (standing, pushing her back) Rarity, you have to get outta here! There’s a giant roc trying to eat me! It’s got Zecora!
Rarity: (pushing him back) Yes…uh? (Spike resumes scratching.) I-I WAS JUST AT ZECORA’S, BUT I’M HEADING BACK! (levitating dropper/vial from her bags; the roc flies past) I CAN’T READ THESE INSTRUCTIONS! DOES THIS SAY “TWO DROPS ONCE A DAY” OR “ONE DROP TWICE A DAY”?
Spike: (pushing it aside) Rarity, there’s no time! We have to get help! (Long shot of them; zoom in slowly as the roc closes in.)
Rarity: (poking at ear) YES, MY EARS ARE COMPLETELY CLOGGED! (noticing his plight) Why, Spike, your stone scales look worse! Ooh, here. I picked up just the thing. (floating a small container from her bags) Ah!
(She never gets a chance to extol its virtues, as the colossal bird completes its approach and airlifts them both from the forest floor. Her scream of purest terror splits the air in their wake. Spike has wound up gripped by his tail in one set of talons, Rarity and Zecora in the other; the unicorn has dropped the remedy she was about to offer.)
Zecora: Oh, I wish you’d escaped either claw of this bird!
But the both of us trapped in the same one’s absurd!
Rarity: (hoof to ear) WHAT?
Spike: (growling) Let my ponies go!
(The roc shows no interest in following this command, instead trying repeatedly to peck at him on the fly and missing as he throws his weight backwards. The familiar internal rumble kicks up.)
Spike: Whoa!
(Cheeks bulge dangerously, and a flaming green belch comes within an ace of blowtorching the beaked face right off the skull. Spike is flung clear, screaming as he goes head over heels toward the unforgiving ground; only a series of bounces off the boughs and a slide down a tree trunk on his back allow him to reach it in one piece. By the time he comes to rest, his whole face has relaxed and he has voiced a sigh of deepest relief, the tree bark having served as a most effective backscratcher. The bliss dissipates all too quickly in the wake of that reddish full-body corona, which brings him to his feet and sets him scratching and groaning all over again. Twilight walks up as he works his back madly against the trunk.)
Twilight: Spike, what are you doing?
Spike: If my stone scales didn’t itch so much, and we weren’t in immediate danger— (laughing weakly) —this would be really embarrassing.
Twilight: Danger?
(Further discussion is cut off by the roc’s cry, and down it comes from the sun, ready to eat whatever it cannot carry. A flash of teleportation removes both of them from the area; it clamps its beak around the trunk and uproots the entire tree, after which they pop back in.)
Twilight: Well, I was headed to Zecora’s to get some cream for your scales. I had no idea you were—
Spike: (grunting) —about to be eaten by a giant predator attracted to my molt smell?
Twilight: Molt smell?
(Another screech, this one mingled with Rarity’s shriek, and Twilight plows Spike out of the way to avoid the lethal talons ripping a crater out of the earth. The roc has ditched the tree it tore up.)
Spike: (now o.s.) Whoa! (Cut to him and TS sprawled on the dirt.)
Twilight: (looking up after it) Was that Rarity?
Spike: (sitting up) And Zecora! I tried to save them, but it’s all I can do to stop scratching long enough to dive out of the way when that bird attacks!
(Purple eyes narrow in steely determination, and the violet Princess lifts off to get a piece of the action. Within seconds she is following the roc and harrying it with horn blasts to every piece of its anatomy she can target.)
Rarity: (to Zecora) THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME I’VE BEEN IN THE CLUTCHES OF A HORRIBLE GIANT CREATURE— (sobbing) —BUT IT DOESN’T GET ANY EASIER!
(The zebra rolls her eyes at this round of histrionics. Meanwhile, Spike pulls in a deep gasp at the overhead brouhaha and is very surprised when his glow and frantic itching stop almost at once. The vivid red/purple hues fade from his stone scales, leaving only slightly darkened patches on his hide.)
Spike: (sighing happily, slumping on his feet) Finally! I didn’t think that itching would ever stop!
(But he gets a new and most unwelcome surprise in the form of a layer of gray stone that begins to extend over his body. All too quickly it has spread up from his chest, engulfed every limb and his tail, and started to encase his chin.)
Spike: What’s happening? I…c-can’t mo—
(The last word is cut off when the mineral mantle seals his mouth and encrusts the rest of his head, leaving him immobilized as a very rough likeness of himself. Spike stands petrified in the clearing as Twilight continues her flying gun battle against the avian predator, the only sounds being those of the four beating wings and her spell assault. After almost ten seconds that could be a week, the stone over a couple of fingers crumbles away and cracks race up that arm. In short order, the fissures are spreading all over him and glowing white from within; the radiance grows to a blinding, screen-filling flash that clears to show him sitting dazedly in a fresh crater. He is entirely back to his old self, but with one slight change to his physiology: a brand-new pair of wings growing from his back. They twitch to full extension, revealing lower surfaces the same pale yellow-green as his underbelly, and he gets confusedly to his feet.)
Spike: What just happened? (poking at one wing) Did I just sprout wings?
(This new fact brings an ear-to-ear grin to his face once it sets in.)
Spike: I JUST SPROUTED WINGS!!
(The roc’s screeching and the sound of Twilight’s blasts shake him back to reality. One well-placed shot jolts it into opening the talons that hold Rarity and Zecora; both wind up hanging on to the tip of one, Rarity having lost her saddlebags. Spike gasps as their peril.)
Spike: I’ve gotta help ’em.
(Sparing the briefest of glances to each new appendage, he gets them flapping and lifts off into a string of very wobbly loops and swoops.)
Spike: Whoa, whoooaaa, whoooaaa!
(Once he has himself under some decent bit of control, he tries a new direction only to slam his back against a tree trunk, slide down headfirst with an undignified yell, and bounce back up into a hover. Now feeling a good bit more confident about his maneuverability, he charges up to join the battle—and immediately overshoots it.)
Spike: Whoops.
(He pulls in to flank Twilight, whose eyes pop when she sees him moving at her level.)
Twilight: Spike, how did you get wings?
Spike: I don’t know! (shifting to a standing position) But they’re pretty aweso—
(The boast turns into a yell of fright as an air current sweeps him away and o.s., but he quickly rises again to offer an apologetic grin. The roc’s approaching shadow falls over both, and they split up just long enough to avoid its grab at them.)
Twilight: Do you think you can fly up and distract him while I work on freeing Zecora and Rarity?
(The newly minted aviator gives her a smart nod and peels out in a blur of violet and green, and she sets off in the same direction. It takes Spike only a few moments to pull ahead of the roc and turn so that he can stare it in the eye while flying backwards.)
Spike: Hey, giant chicken! If you like dragons so much, come and get me!
(It screeches and snaps at him time after time, getting nothing for its trouble as he darts nimbly out of reach. He flies a tight circle in front of its face, achieving high enough speeds to leave him visible as a violet blur and make the roc very, very dizzy as it tries to track him. A vigorous head shake fails to clear its vision and leaves it squawking woozily; cut to its fuzzy perspective, which gradually resolves into an upside-down Spike pulling into view for a sardonic salute.)
Spike: Greetings.
(Back to him, flipping right side up and speeding away to avoid another keening snap of the immense beak. Thumping a fist against his gut to start his digestive engines, he lets the roc have it full force; it screams and throws up its free talons to guard its face, while Rarity and Zecora are released to do a little free falling. Rarity’s hyperextended scream hangs in the air behind her.)
Twilight: SPIKE!!
(She and Spike dive after the plummeting pair, leaving a nicely charbroiled and very dazed roc in their wake, and make the catch with only a foot or two to spare. Twilight sets Zecora down on all four hooves, while Spike does the same for Rarity; the defeated predator wings away into the forest, trailing smoke.)
Zecora: (crossing to Spike) I know that the molt produced surprising things.
(touching his shoulder) But I’m glad that the last was a new pair of wings!
(Close-up of these two as she finishes; on the start of the next line, cut to frame all four again.)
Rarity: YES, AND ALSO I’M GLAD YOU’VE GOT WINGS! (Twilight recoils slightly at the elevated volume.)
Twilight: This is amazing! (crossing to Spike) I didn’t know if you’d ever get wings. I’m so happy for you. Does it have something to do with this molt you were talking about?
(Spike sighs and his wings droop as all the jubilation drains out of him.)
Spike: It’s what’s been going on with me. The breakout, the fire burps—the molt is when dragons get older and start to change. I wish I could stop it, but I can’t. I-I should go. (He starts to walk away…)
Twilight: Go? (…but stops.) What are you talking about?
Spike: In the Dragon Lands, families make molters leave home. It’s called the molt effect.
Twilight: (crossing to him, touching his chest) Well, this isn’t the Dragon Lands, and molt effect or no, I don’t want you going anywhere.
Spike: But I’m growing up. What if something even worse happens?
Twilight: You’re supposed to grow up, but you’ll always be you. And whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.
(Her extended foreleg is the cue for a hug, which he eagerly accepts—and then breaks in favor of a little airborne goofing off.)
Spike: (whooping) Yeah! Look at me! (He lands on her back.) Let’s go home! (Puzzled glance from Twilight, followed by a smirk.)
Twilight: Uh, I don’t need to carry you anymore, do I? (magically lifting one wing from his shoulder) You have wings.
Spike: They are new, and I don’t want to overdo it.
(Realizing that his wisecracking will remain invariable no matter what his form, she groans, gives him a top-tier eye roll, and starts for home. Rarity follows the pair, while Zecora heads in a different direction. Dissolve to an extreme close-up of a pincushion strapped to the white unicorn’s foreleg, a length of measuring tape hanging into view behind it. On the start of the next line zoom out slowly to put Rarity in her upper-story workroom/living space within the Carousel Boutique. She has her reading glasses on and is levitating a pin toward a hanging length of red cloth marked by orange flame accents—an outfit based on the feather she gathered from Pee-Wee in the prologue. The presence of a dotted line drawn in on the material marks this as a work in progress.)
Rarity: I can’t believe you thought any of us would send you away because of some silly molt effect.
(A light chuckle accompanies the end of this sentence, after which she slides the pin through the cloth and sighs contentedly.)
Rarity: (floating scissors across) Even if the symptoms were slightly unsettling, and let’s face it, the odor wasn’t pleasant— (Laugh; a ribbon is brought in and snipped.) —nopony would stop caring for you just because you were getting older.
(Her field gathers in a fold and pins it.)
Rarity: Everypony goes through changes. Sometimes change can be wonderful, like…
(Longer shot of the room. Spike is wearing the half-finished, sleeveless dress and hovering at her eye level.)
Rarity: …being able to model for any length of dress! (Giggle.) Uh, a bit higher, darling, please?
(He accommodates the request, shifting enough to get the hem clear of the carpet, and she applies another pin.)
Spike: I’m glad to help, Rarity, but don’t you think there’s wonderful things about flying that don’t involve dresses?
Rarity: Of course, darling. Flying will also be beneficial for you to help me with gowns, frocks, robes, shifts, skirts, minis, maxis…
(Cut to a close-up of the little guy as she reels off her list. He sighs softly, realizing that the molt may have given him more than he bargained for, but works his way around to an indulgent little smile, serene in the knowledge that Rarity will always be Rarity no matter what. Fade to black.)
MARKS FOR EFFORT
Written by Nicole Dubuc
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to a long shot of the School of Friendship during the day, zooming in slowly toward the upper reaches as a bird swings lazily toward this portion. It comes to rest in the courtyard, perching in a bush only to be lifted free of the leaves on something magenta nestled among them. A close-up picks this out as Scootaloo’s mane; she ducks fully out of sight, leaving the bird to flit away, and the orange head pops back up to totter back and forth with several panicked vocalizations before dropping away once more. Cut to an extreme close-up of Apple Bloom’s hind legs struggling to keep the rest of her balanced, accompanied by her grunt of fearful effort. Soon enough, all three Cutie Mark Crusaders stagger fully into view from the greenery, Scootaloo balanced atop the head of Sweetie Belle, who is in turn held up by Bloom. The three-filly tower sways this way and that amid a scatter of grunts and heaves, Scootaloo straining mightily to grab an upper-story ledge with her wings buzzing like sixty.)
Scootaloo: (with effort) Almost…there! (Her hooves find a purchase; close-up of Bloom.)
Bloom: (sighing excitedly) I can’t wait! Twilight’s school’s supposed to be amazin’ inside! (Tilt up to Sweetie.)
Sweetie: Rarity says there’s never been a school like it! (To Scootaloo.)
Scootaloo: (grunting, pulling herself up higher) I heard the students get to do tons of awesome stuff.
Bloom: Do you see anything yet?
(Cut to just inside the nearest window, Scootaloo shading her eyes for a good look through the panes. Something wooden is canted at an angle before her.)
Scootaloo: (slightly muffled by glass) Uh…yeah! (mashing face against surface) It looks like…a broom!
(Outside again; she has chanced upon a janitor’s closet full of cleaning supplies.)
Scootaloo: And a dustpan, and some buckets…
Sweetie: That sounds like a closet.
Bloom: Try another window.
(More yelps follow as they lurch and spin away, overshooting the next window in line for a moment before Scootaloo manages to snag the ledge beneath its sill. Cut to just inside as she hoists herself up for a look; this window is open.)
Scootaloo: (awed) Whoa…
(Zoom out into this space, Pinkie Pie leaning into the foreground—this is her classroom.)
Pinkie: (holding up a tray of cupcakes) Whooooo’s ready for cupcakes?
(A longer shot frames the clusters of balloons painted onto the walls, the real ones to either side of the doors, and the musical instruments hanging on the walls. Class is in session, and the students—including Gallus, Ocellus, and Yona—receive treats as she vaults back and forth over their heads. In close-up, the young griffon licks his chops and prepares to satiate his sweet tooth, but Pinkie comes to rest on his head before he can bite in. She leans forward to look him upside-down in the eye from point-blank range, having discarded her tray.)
Pinkie: Oh, they’re not for you, silly. They’re for sharing. (She hops off and retrieves it.) First, say something nice, like this. (She crosses to…) Ocellus, you are a great listener.
(Both sit down on their haunches, and the pony flips a cupcake to the changeling to join the one she already holds and slides up close, throwing a foreleg around the light blue shoulders.)
Pinkie: Now you get to keep one cupcake and share one with another creature. (Ocellus turns toward…)
Ocellus: Yona, you’re really strong.
(She lobs one snack toward the ceiling, Yona going up to chomp it out of the air—and coming down squarely on Pinkie. The tray and the leftover cupcakes go flying across the room and straight out the window, Scootaloo ducking away with a gasp just in time to avoid intercepting the lot with her face. Outside again; the weight shift sends the fillies veering hopelessly out of control…)
Crusaders: Whooooaaaa!
(…and into an o.s. wipeout that sends a few loose leaves fluttering back. Cut to them lying half-dazed in a bush, coming to as a few butterflies happen by to elicit quietly awed reactions. The winged insects form the shape of a heart near a balcony, where Fluttershy emerges; in close-up, she addresses the students gathered in her classroom, including Sandbar and Silverstream.)
Fluttershy: All right, students! (A butterfly lands on her hoof.) It’s time to meet some new friends!
(Happy chatter breaks out among the class as the butterflies make their way in, Silverstream taking flight to lead the heart formation away once it uncurls itself. More ooh’s and ahh’s drift up from the o.s. Crusaders before the camera cuts back to them, now out of the bush that broke their fall.)
Applejack: (from o.s.) INCOMIN’!!
(They gallop toward her voice; cut to the farmer in her outdoor classroom, where Smolder is among those in attendance. She bounces a red rubber ball off her head a couple of times before pivoting in place and letting hind legs project it upward again to start a game of buckball. A pegasus mare zooms up to knock it away with her head, it is volleyed twice more by a pair of hooves and a tail, and Smolder pulls off a midair interception and hurls it back down. A unicorn colt hustles in, levitating an empty basket just right to catch the ball, and earns a round of cheers and laughter as he sets it down. Applejack crosses to the center of the space while Smolder comes in for a landing.)
Applejack: That’s friendship in action, y’all.
(The students bring it in as the camera pans to the doorway, where the Crusaders have been peeking in around the frame. They duck out of sight one by one; cut to them just around the corner of this building.)
Sweetie: Wow! And I thought our school was fun!
Scootaloo: Yeah! Miss Cheerilee never lets us play buckball in class. (Pause.) I know. I’ve tried.
Bloom: Hey! Why don’t we go here instead? It’s still school, right?
(Enthusiastic cheers go along with their three-way high five, after which they set off across the grounds.)
Bloom: (sighing happily) What could be better than learnin’ friendship with your best friends? (Pinkie’s head pops out of a bush as they pass.)
Pinkie: Learning friendship with your best friends… (pulling out her tray, with three surviving cupcakes) …and cake!
(She proceeds to slam the thing into her face, gorging herself on whatever ends up in her mouth and wearing the rest of it. The Crusaders giggle merrily at the mess before the view fades to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to a full classroom with Twilight Sparkle at its head. The youngsters talk among themselves while she stands next to a table that has been placed between them and the front desk. A slide projector has been set up here, Spike standing on the table itself, and a roll-up screen has been pulled down to cover the blackboard. Quiet falls once Twilight clears her throat and begins to speak.)
Twilight: Good morning, class. Today we’re going to learn about friendship through the ages. Spike, slide one, please.
(The little guy taps at the device, bringing up an image of a gaunt-faced, smiling earth pony stallion whose outfit marks him as Chancellor Puddinghead—see “Hearth’s Warming Eve” for full details. The shadow of a wing obscures the screen as she speaks.)
Twilight: Back in the days of Chancellor Puddin’head— (Puzzled pause.) —uh, Spike?
(Cut to him. The wings he gained due to his molt in “Molt Down” have spread of their own accord, and one is blocking the projector lens.)
Spike: Huh? (sheepishly, backing off) Sorry, Twilight. Still getting used to my new wings. They’re pretty great, huh? (The heads of Bloom and Sweetie rise to face Twilight.)
Twilight: Yes, Spike. As I was saying— (She notices them.) —huh?
(Longer shot. These two have managed to commandeer front-row desks, with Scootaloo close behind.)
Twilight: (laughing a bit, crossing to them) What are you three doing here?
Bloom: We want to go to your school!
Twilight: But why?
Sweetie: We want to learn friendship!
Scootaloo: And play buckball!
Twilight: (laughing) I see. Why don’t you three come with me? (The faces fall.) Spike, you’re in charge. (She leads the trio out of the room.)
Spike: (pumping a fist) Yes!
(Cut to the hall, the door closing behind the four due to Twilight’s influence. Starlight Glimmer trots past in the fore, but immediately doubles back.)
Starlight: (with slightly forced perkiness) Hi, Twilight! Looks like you could use a guidance counselor’s help! (prodding Twilight’s chest) Hint, hint…
Twilight: No thanks, Starlight. I got this.
Starlight: (instantly deflated, backing off) Great .Well, I’ll just go dust my office for the seventieth time.
Twilight: (to Crusaders) I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but… (Long pause.) …you can’t be my students.
Sweetie: Why not?
Scootaloo: Isn’t this place for everycreature?
Twilight: Yes, but we teach friendship lessons here. You already know all about helping ponies in need and being there for each other.
(Cut to them, trading mildly perplexed looks, on the end of this.)
Sweetie: Can’t you just give us a chance?
Crusaders: (grinning hopefully, ear to ear) Pleeeeeease?
Twilight: You need Cheerilee’s classes, not mine. (walking past them to classroom) Hurry up. You don’t want late marks on your permanent record.
(Magic hits the handle to open the way, but her eyes pop at the words she hears coming from within. On the start of the next line, cut to Spike hovering and facing the students, every one of whom is standing on hind legs behind his/her desk and holding a front hoof to his/her chest.)
Students: (reciting) O dragon, my dragon…
Twilight: (uneasily) Spike…? What did you do?
(Weary displeasure settles onto her face like a ton of wet sand as she enters the room and Spike lands to face her with an embarrassed little grin and laugh. The door slams in a push from Twilight’s aura; from here, dissolve to the downcast Crusaders trudging down a hallway. They stop in time with Scootaloo’s irritated sigh.)
Scootaloo: Well, I’m not giving up! I know we can prove we belong in this school!
Sweetie: Yeah! (Pause.) Um, how?
Bloom: By showin’ Twilight we’ve still got lots to learn about friendship. (slyly) And I know just where to start.
(Clock-wipe to a profile close-up of Applejack out for a stroll through the grounds of Sweet Apple Acres. A loud squish from ground level brings her up short with a grunt; she lifts one foreleg and finds it caked with some nameless muck and broken bits of wood.)
Applejack: What in tarnation?
(A cut to the ground before her discloses the cause: an apple basket that has gone to rot along with its contents. Taking a step back, Applejack finds a much greater extent of disarray spread out on the turf—overturned buckets and tubs, a shattered cart, baled/loose hay and farming implements thrown down everywhere, and a sea of loose apples covering nearly every available square inch of ground. Applejack catches sight of Bloom reading under a tree, fixes a high-wattage scowl on her face, and trots purposefully out to the suddenly bookish younger sibling. The slop is gone from her hoof by the time she reaches her mark.)
Applejack: Apple Bloom! You know better than to leave our good tools out like that! And aren’t you supposed to be on harvest duty right now?
Bloom: (shrugging, apathetically) Eh. It’s not like the apples are goin’ anywhere.
Applejack: (incredulously, sputtering) What’s gotten into you? Those chores are your responsibility! (stomping) Farm work is family work! (Bloom pushes her book away.)
Bloom: (piteously) Sorry, Applejack.
(That demeanor evaporates in the time it takes her to get to her haunches and stick on a calculating smile.)
Bloom: Maybe if I went to Twilight’s school, I’d learn to be better at helpin’ the family? (Huge ingratiating grin.)
Applejack: (smiling) Ahhhh, so that’s what this is all about. Well…if it’s learnin’ you want, I’d be happy to give you a private lesson right now— (sternly) —startin’ with cleanin’ up all this equipment!
(She storms off and Bloom gets upright to follow. The yellow filly utters a grunt of disgust at her failure to sweet-talk her big sister, the view wiping behind her to Rarity’s upper-story workroom and living quarters within the Carousel Boutique. The designer’s horn-power is adjusting the brim of a hat on a pony-shaped mannequin and pinning it in place as the camera zooms in through the open doorway. She leans intently toward the dummy in close-up to slide in a second pin just so. On the start of the next line, zoom out quickly to show Sweetie now standing behind her, having sneaked into the room.)
Sweetie: (loudly, rapid fire) Please can I go to Twilight’s school?
(The interruption startles Rarity into a yelp and a magical twitch that drives the pin into the mannequin’s head, allowing the brim to flop forward and out of shape. She turns to cross the floor with a frustrated groan, the camera shifting to a profile close-up. A sudden grab stops her cold; she glances back toward her own hindquarters with a longer groan and finds Sweetie hanging on to one hind leg.)
Sweetie: Please?
(Instead of deigning to give a verbal response, the older unicorn drags the younger one across the carpet and shakes her off after a few steps, stopping at a basket filled with yarn and fabrics. Rarity begins to levitate one bolt free, only to drop it again when Sweetie pops up among the materials.)
Sweetie: Pleeeease?
Rarity: I’m going to call you Repeatie Belle! We’ve been through this! (squashing Sweetie’s cheeks) Please let me concentrate!
(Wiping her forehead with an imperious grumble, she turns back to the mannequins, the camera following until Sweetie whips into view to stop her dead.)
Sweetie: How about now?
(The blue eyes flick away with an expression that might translate as “can I trade this filly in for a quieter model?” A rainbow streak flashes across to fill the screen for a moment; behind it, the view wipes to the upper reaches of the School’s gym, where Rainbow Dash pulls into view and hovers, addressing herself down o.s.)
Rainbow: (dramatically, looping/diving about) So there I was, leading the Wonderbolt formation into a super-dangerous Sun Dog Spiral, when suddenly…
(Longer shot: several students have gathered to hear the tale, including Scootaloo in a set of Groucho Marx joke glasses. The blue speedster zips among a trio of pole-mounted buckball goal baskets, throwing in a few whooshing sound effects, before continuing.)
Rainbow: …there was a huge storm cloud in our way!
Mare 1: What happened?
Rainbow: (cockily) My genius happened. I changed the routine on the fly. And because my crew are such tight friends, they followed me! (Scootaloo eases up to the front row.)
Mare 2: (gasping excitedly) What did you do?
Rainbow: Only the coolest thing ever. I flew up and— (Scootaloo shoots upright.)
Scootaloo: (rapid fire, hovering briefly) —did a super-amazing half-twist into a backflip Sonic Rainboom!
(She tumbles to the floor; cut to the rest of the dumbstruck audience.)
Rainbow: (from o.s., irked) Hey. (Cut to her.) I never told that story to my students before.
(Her suspicions well and truly raised, she darts in and plucks away the orange filly’s disguise.)
Rainbow: (warningly) Scootaloo…!
(Who can do no more than voice a lame chuckle, take back the glasses, and put them on again.)
Scootaloo: Never met her.
(Rainbow responds with a dirty look and a foreleg pointed emphatically toward the door; Scootaloo heaves herself up with a defeated sigh and follows the silent order to vacate. Dissolve to a busy Ponyville street, Scootaloo’s scooter resting near a bin filled with fresh produce, and pan slightly in that direction. The Crusaders have gathered at the mouth of an alley for a quick huddle, the pegasus having donned her crash helmet; when they break, she is seen to have ditched the gag eyewear. Spotting the approach of Fluttershy and Pinkie, Sweetie ducks back into the alley. Pinkie’s face is clean of the cupcake residue she inflicted upon herself at the end of the prologue.)
Sweetie: (hushed) They’re coming! Get ready!
(A wink from Bloom and a nod from Scootaloo, who steps up to the handlebars, and these two move out. Within seconds they have taken up positions on opposite sides of the street, Bloom shifting a full basket of apples onto her head. Sweetie waits for just the right moment before throwing a hoof signal first to Scootaloo, who adjusts her helmet and gets rolling across the street, and then to Bloom, who begins to move toward her as Sweetie ducks out of sight. Close-up of Scootaloo. Until further notice, all lines spoken at normal volume by the fillies take on a very stilted tone.)
Scootaloo: Look out! (Pan quickly to Bloom.)
Bloom: Look out!
(A longer shot tells the whole tale. The pony on wheels is moving at roughly the speed of the walking one, and Sweetie has put her head out from the alley again to keep track of both them and Fluttershy/Pinkie. Bloom and Scootaloo barely miss one another, but play it up as if they have collided.)
Bloom: Whoa!
(Down they go, Bloom throwing her freight of fruit so that it spills to cut off the mares’ path.)
Scootaloo: (standing up) Hey! Watch where you are going! (She pulls her helmet off.)
Bloom: (standing, pointing) I was watchin’—watchin’ you drive like a crazy pony! (The two advance toward one another.)
Scootaloo: Well, maybe if you did not drop apples all over the street, I would not have to!
Fluttershy: (to Pinkie) Ooh! I’ve never seen Apple Bloom and Scootaloo argue like this.
Pinkie: Yeah! They usually go together like candy canes and stripes.
(A surreptitious wink and wave pass from Scootaloo to Sweetie, who steps out of the alley and makes a show of “tripping” over the scooter.)
Sweetie: Whoooaaa! (She goes flat on her face, then stands up during the following.)
Bloom: (to Scootaloo) My apples? This is all your fault, Scootaloo!
Scootaloo: Hey! Sweetie Belle is the clumsy one!
Sweetie: (turning away from both) I’m not talking to either one of you ever again! (The other two follow suit.)
Fluttershy: (to Pinkie) Goodness! They seem really upset.
Pinkie: It’s almost like they forgot they’re friends.
(Cut back to the three fillies, who break out of their standoff just long enough to throw each other a quick smile.)
Scootaloo: (whispering, singsong) I think it’s working!
Sweetie: (aloud) You are so careless! (whispering) Good plan, Apple Bloom!
Bloom: (aloud) Careless? I will show you who is the one who is careless! (whispering) And great acting, Sweetie Belle!
(Gathering in for a three-way hug, they drop out of character altogether.)
Scootaloo: We’re an awesome team!
Bloom: All right!
Sweetie: Whoo!
Pinkie: (from o.s.) Yaaaay! (All three faces freeze in shock.)
Bloom: Oops. (Cut to Fluttershy and Pinkie.)
Pinkie: You’re friends again! I knew you would be! (She hops over and pulls them into a hug.) Candy cane stripes forever!
(Almost in a single motion, she straightens up, tosses out a hoof-load of confetti and streamers, and begins to hop around the Crusaders while carrying a pennant marked with their faces. The celebration has exactly the opposite of its intended effect, drawing a sigh of resignation from each young throat.)
Scootaloo: Now they’ll never let us into Twilight’s school.
(Fade to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to the Crusaders in their clubhouse: Bloom pacing, Scootaloo sitting on her haunches off near a window, Sweetie hovering a pencil by a pictorial checklist of four items tacked up on the wall.)
Bloom: Okay. We’ve tried shirkin’ chores…
(Close-up of Sweetie, who marks off this item and then the others as they are named.)
Bloom: (from o.s.) …pesterin’, disguises, fightin’…
Sweetie: (sending pencil away) Hmmm…we need to do something new. Something unexpected.
(Her rumination is cut off by the sound of muffled crying from Scootaloo’s general direction.)
Bloom: Great idea, Scootaloo! We haven’t tried cryin’ yet!
Sweetie: Yeah! It always works for Rarity.
(Cut to the last member of the triumvirate, who throws them a quizzical—and completely dry-eyed—glance from her vantage point at the window.)
Scootaloo: (standing up) I wasn’t crying. I think it’s coming from outside.
(She turns to gaze through the glass; cut to just outside as the other two join her, then to a pale pink pegasus filly sitting on her haunches and sobbing under a tree near the clubhouse. Her mane/tail are two shades of light blue, done in ringlets, and tied with pale yellow bands, and her eyes have birdcatcher spots beneath their outer corners. Neither their color nor her cutie mark can be seen for the moment, the first because they are closed, the second due to the fall of her tail around her haunch. This is Cozy Glow, about the same age as the Crusaders, who sits near a pair of discarded saddlebags. Back to the trio inside.)
Sweetie: Aww, she looks so sad. We better go see what’s wrong.
(Away they go, the camera cutting to outside as they descend the ramp and cross to the newcomer.)
Bloom: Hey, are you okay?
(Now Cozy opens her eyes, revealing deep red irises, and regains a degree of composure. Her voice is the aural embodiment of wide-eyed youthful innocence, and she exhibits a slight speech impediment that causes her L’s and R’s to sound a bit like her W’s. Throughout the following exchange, she occasionally sniffles or dabs at her wet eyes.)
Cozy: Oh, thank you for asking, but no. I’m having real trouble with the School of Friendship.
Scootaloo: Twilight won’t let you go either, huh?
Cozy: Oh, no. It’s not that. I’m in her class, but… (breaking down anew) …it’s too hard!
Sweetie: Really? (Cozy nods and calms down.)
Cozy: I just moved here to go to school, but everything’s so new and different. I don’t know anypony.
Bloom: Well, now you do. I’m Apple Bloom. (indicating others in turn) This is Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. We’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
Cozy: (standing up) I’m Cozy Glow. It’s very nice to meet you, but I don’t know if I’ll stay long. I’ll probably flunk out. I’m having so much trouble with my friendship lessons.
(The Crusaders gasp as one once these last two words sink in.)
Sweetie: We can help with those!
Scootaloo: We know all about friendship!
Bloom: And studyin’ with you would be almost as good as bein’ in class!
Cozy: But why would you help me? (suspiciously) What’s in it for you?
Sweetie: (crossing to her) That’s how friendship works. When you give from your heart, you don’t expect anything back.
Cozy: Well, golly. If you really mean it—
Crusaders: (nodding) Mmm-hmm!
Cozy: —I could use some help with my homework.
(During this last, she shifts position enough to give a clear view of her cutie mark—a castle or rook piece used in chess. A quick dip toward her bags, and she has fished up three photographs in her teeth; close-up of these as they are laid on the ground. One full-color close-up each of Bon Bon, Mrs. Cake, and Big Macintosh.)
Cozy: (from o.s., pointing at each) I have to do something nice for each of these ponies. (Back to her.) But I don’t know anything about them. And it’s so hard to talk to ponies you’ve never met.
Bloom: Well, you’re in luck, ’cause we know all those ponies!
Scootaloo: Get ready for a friendship A-plus!
(Her declaration brings a hopeful little grin to the pink face. Dissolve to Bon Bon walking up to a florist’s stand in Ponyville and zoom out slightly to frame Lemon Hearts in charge of the next one over—pears and pear-based snacks. A helmeted Scootaloo zips into view on her scooter, towing Cozy by one foreleg, and both disappear behind a full bin of fruit. The two mares and the third one looking over Lemon’s wares glance up with only the briefest hint of confusion before resuming their activities, and the fillies put their heads up for a bit of surveillance.)
Scootaloo: That’s Bon Bon. (removing helmet) If you want to do something nice for her, first you gotta figure out what she needs.
Cozy: Well, how am I supposed to do that?
Scootaloo: Just pay attention. Friendship is about listening to others.
(Both train their eyes on the florist’s stand, where Bon Bon accepts a paper bag containing a sizable cactus from Rose and takes its rope handles in her teeth. As she walks off, though, the plant’s copious spines poke her in the cheek with every step.)
Bon Bon: Ow…oh…
Scootaloo: Uh-oh. That cactus keeps pricking her every step she takes. Hmm—if only there was something to protect her from those spines.
(Both fillies fall into heavy thought, Cozy emerging first with a glance at the helmet that Scootaloo has set among the pears in Lemon’s bin. The flick of inspiration develops into a full-scale brainstorm, and she snatches the headgear away and flies out after Bon Bon, who grunts in pain at a fresh stickling. She sets the cactus down and rubs her cheek as Cozy catches up.)
Cozy: It looks like you need help carrying your cactus, so here’s a safe way to take it home.
(Cut to a close-up of it during this line, the helmet being set to cover as much of it as possible, then back to the mare and filly after she finishes. Cozy touches down with a tentative little laugh, but Bon Bon has come over all smiles at the gesture.)
Bon Bon: Thank you! That’s so thoughtful.
(Cozy gallops back toward Scootaloo as Bon Bon takes up the bag’s handles again and goes on her way—with only the side of the helmet making contact with her face now.)
Cozy: I did it!
Scootaloo: Good job! (Close-up.) But, uh, next time, maybe don’t give away my helmet. (Pan to Cozy.)
Cozy: Oopsie.
(Dissolve to the exterior of Sugarcube Corner, zooming in slowly, then cut to Sweetie with her horn aglow inside. She is concentrating her effort on a nearly empty bowl of multicolored candy sprinkles, floating them out one at a time. Close-up of one open-topped can after another being held up by Cozy, each marked with a band to match the color of sprinkles going into it. Front hooves raise each of the next two, while the third is balanced on her nose.)
Sweetie: (from o.s.) Green…purple…yellow.
(Zoom out. Cozy is hovering with two more cans—red and blue—on her hind legs.)
Sweetie: (from o.s.) And…one more purple. (Cut to her, wiping sweat from forehead.) Whoo! (checking now-empty bowl) Sorting all those took longer than I thought.
(Down comes Cozy; close-up of a box on the floor as she loads in her five cans, now with shaker tops screwed on. A longer shot frames the box’s lid and a sixth can standing nearby. During the following exchange, Sweetie crosses to her and uses her magic to put the last one in, set the lid in place, and tie a ribbon around the whole lot.)
Cozy: You really think Mrs. Cake will like these new sprinkle shakers?
Sweetie: Mmm-hmm. Now she won’t have to use rainbow sprinkles all the time. She can just pick the color she wants.
(The jingling of the bell above the front door is heard; cut to Mrs. Cake on the threshold.)
Mrs. Cake: (entering) Oh! I’m sorry, I was out to lunch. (Cozy now holds the box.) Were you fillies waiting for me long?
Cozy: (holding it out to her) No. Um, these are for you.
(The package is swiftly set on a display case, the ribbon snapped, and the lid pulled away to expose the shakers.)
Mrs. Cake: (lifting box) Oh, well, what a lovely surprise! I can’t wait to try them out!
(Setting it on a next to a white-frosted cake, she turns away to hide everything from both the fillies and the camera and sets to a quick burst of work. Cut to the pair as she holds the cake toward them, now sporting a multitude of varicolored sprinkles. The sight of it causes the scarlet and green eyes to pop wide open in pure shock.)
Mrs. Cake: (from o.s.) Look! I made rainbow sprinkles! (Sweetie offers Cozy a weak grin; cut to frame all three.) Aren’t they wonderful?
(She walks off with the dessert, seeing none of the mental freeze-up that Cozy suffers at the misuse of this gift.)
Cozy: But…she…I… (Groan.)
Sweetie: At least she likes her present?
Cozy: (shakily) Uh-huh.
(Now she manages to answer Sweetie’s smile with one of her own. Dissolve to Macintosh walking up to one of the trees at Sweet Apple Acres, an empty basket balanced on his head. No apples are immediately visible among the overhead greenery, though. He pivots, expertly delivers a solid buck to the trunk, and waits—but not one fruit drops into the waiting vessel. Further attempts on a second and third tree yield the same result, and he eyes the basket critically and sets it aside. Before he can get too far into a consideration of this lack of productivity, a whistle from o.s. draws his attention. Cut to a line of three overflowing baskets behind which Bloom and Cozy are standing, then back to the big workhorse, who gallops off with a huge grin at the relief they have granted him.)
Cozy: Golly! How’d you know that would make him so happy?
Bloom: Friendship means pitchin’ in to help others’ chores go faster.
(The sound of Macintosh’s pounding hooves asserts itself under this last, and in short order he barrels past with a nod of thanks to his little sister.)
Bloom: (knowingly) ’Specially when their special somepony’s waitin’ for ’em.
(Cut to a fence, on whose other side Sugar Belle is standing and waving happily. Macintosh comes to a stop facing her across it, and the two equine lovebirds share a blissful nuzzle. Dissolve to a close-up of the bell on the roof of the Ponyville schoolhouse, ringing out its raucous signal, then cut to ground level as the door flies open and a flood of laughing foals spills out. Even though it is the end of the day’s lessons, the Crusaders are last to leave and in remarkably foul spirits.)
Scootaloo: (groaning heavily) That class was soooo boring!
Sweetie: Not even Miss Cheerilee can make the history of radishes exciting.
Bloom: I bet they don’t have to learn about that stuff at Twilight’s school.
(As the demoralized little ponies clomp along the path, something plows into them head-on with enough force to drive them back several yards and throw up a cloud of dust. When the haze clears, the Crusaders are lying in a knocked-out pile on the dirt and an overjoyed Cozy pops up from within the mass.)
Cozy: Guess what! (pulling out a worksheet covered with green check marks) I got an A on my homework!
(She is immediately hoisted overhead, the next three lines overlapping.)
Bloom: Nice goin’!
Scootaloo: Woo-hoo!
Sweetie: All right!
Cozy: And I never could have done it without your help. (She hovers down.)
Bloom: No problem!
Scootaloo: We just wish we coulda done more.
Cozy: Actually, you can. Headmare Twilight is giving us a big test at the end of the week, and I could really use your help studying.
(She lets them have it with both barrels in the form of the biggest, shiniest, most soulful eyes and the cutest smile she can drum up. It works with remarkable efficacy.)
Bloom: We wanted to go to Twilight’s school more than anything—but helpin’ you has been even more fun! (Laugh.) You can count on us!
(A set of cards depicting the cutie marks of Twilight and her friends tumbles past the camera. Behind them, the view wipes to the Crusaders and Cozy sitting on a picnic blanket that has been spread out on a hill outside Ponyville proper. Each filly has a covered basket; Scootaloo and Sweetie open theirs to reveal carrots, while Bloom unveils apples. Last is Cozy, who pulls he cover away and is surprised to find her basket empty; up comes Fluttershy’s rabbit Angel, chewing on a lone carrot—evidently he stowed away and ate the rest of the load. He hops away with the ill-gotten snack and she forlornly tips her basket over, confirming that there is nothing left. The Crusaders get ready to dig into the food they brought along, but freeze at the sight of their crestfallen friend. In a blink, Sweetie has commandeered the apple and carrot the other two were about to eat, added them to her own, and extended the items to Cozy. The pale pink face instantly brightens, then scrunches up in concentration as Sweetie floats a card with Rarity’s three-gem mark toward her.)
Cozy: Um…Intelligence?
(All three stare popeyed at the mistake and trade worried half-grimaces as the card is lowered. Wipe to the four giving a fresh coat of red paint to the main barn at Sweet Apple Acres, Bloom hauling a full can to the others as they ply brushes high and low. Sweetie gives simultaneous high fives to Bloom and Cozy, the latter inadvertently knocking against the ladder Scootaloo is using; the orange pegasus drops her can in close-up, then looks down and grimaces in mild shock. A ground-level pan reveals that the other three have been thoroughly doused with the contents, but Bloom and Sweetie are quick to start laughing over the absurd mishap. Up above, Scootaloo joins in with a grin and holds up a card printed with Pinkie’s cutie mark for Cozy’s giggly perusal.)
(A mass of butterflies flits across the screen, the view wiping behind them to Fluttershy, Scootaloo, and Sweetie in Fluttershy’s cottage to care for some of the animals. The two fillies are clean, as Bloom and Cozy will be when seen next. Bowls of greens are set out, a bed is made in a basket, and a plate of birdseed is offered. Elsewhere, while sweeping the floor, Cozy bumps against an open bag of seed so that it tips and spills a small quantity onto the planks. She hurriedly rights the bag and, after a furtive glance to make sure no eyes are on her, eases up one edge of a nearby rug so she can scoop the spill underneath it. Before she can finish the cover-up, Bloom happens by, gives her a level “really?” glance, and pulls out a card with her older sister’s three apples. Offering a sheepish grin, Cozy flips the rug back in preparation to clean up the mess she made—but two birds get to it first and start pecking hungrily away, prompting giggles from both fillies.)
(Dissolve to the four in the clubhouse, Cozy seated on a stool to face the Crusaders and a chart tacked up on the wall. The document is split into two columns, the left showing the jewels that represent the Elements of Harmony, the right filled with drawings that depict those traits. Sweetie is levitating a pointer rod to indicate Pinkie’s section as Cozy thinks very hard.)
Cozy: Laughter?
Sweetie: Yes! (She indicates Twilight’s row.)
Cozy: Is it…Control?
(The little unicorn grimaces a bit at her fumble and shakes her head. Dissolve to a long shot of Pipsqueak, or Pip, jumping/straining futilely up toward a kite stuck in the branches of a tree. He and it are on a small hill outside Ponyville. Here come the Crusaders and their new friend; getting a round of encouraging smiles and a pointing prompt from Scootaloo, Cozy flies into action. She picks the kite free of the leaves and brings it down to Pip, only for a sudden strong gust of wind to tear it from his grip. As it skims low over the grass, she is hot after it—up until the moment that both disappear into a clump of bushes. Pip and the Crusaders gallop to the crash site just in time to be met by the emergence of a thoroughly disheveled Cozy with one corner of the intact kite in her teeth. Celebration all around as she passes it back to Pip.)
(Scootaloo’s foreleg reaches up into view in the fore and yanks down a pull string, instantly unrolling a new view of drawings of four Element jewels—Honesty, Laughter, Loyalty, Magic. A longer shot puts the quartet back in the clubhouse, Cozy now cleaned up and facing the other three and a sketch of all six gems on an easel. As before, Sweetie has her pointer in her magical grip to pick out one at a time, starting with the pink butterfly; Cozy stares at it and thinks hard before responding.)
Cozy: Kindness! (The red lightning bolt.) Loyalty! (To Sweetie now showing the orange apple; she continues o.s.) Honesty!
(Back to Cozy, the blue lozenge reflected in her pupils.)
Cozy: Generosity!
(The chart, with the blue balloon picked out.)
Cozy: (from o.s.) Laughter! (Back to her, the pink star in her eyes.) Magic!
(Six for six. Cut to an overhead close-up of the four and zoom out to a long shot as they raise their forelegs with a cheer. From here, dissolve to the School’s upper reaches and tilt down to the front entrance, in front of which the Crusaders are goofing off in various ways. Bloom sits doing nothing in particular; Scootaloo lies on her back, head hanging over the edge of the walkway; Sweetie sits reading a book. The doors fly open to release a tide of laughing, cheering students past the three, but Cozy lags well behind them, about as far down in the dumps as a pony can go without having to excavate a landfill.)
Bloom: How’d the test go?
Sweetie: Were there essay questions?
Scootaloo: Did you remember what we taught you?
Cozy: (tearing up) I… (crying gushers of tears) …failed!
(She gallops pell-mell past them and away from the campus, lungs and tear ducts working overtime as the camera shifts away from the doors.)
Bloom: (to Sweetie) But how could Cozy Glow fail her friendship test?
(An impatient throat-clearing from the o.s. Twilight puts any response on the back burner, and the Crusaders swivel back to find one extremely peeved Princess staring them down.)
Twilight: I’d like to see you three in my office!
(She wheels back through the doors, her tone brooking no dissent, and the recipients of this order trade glances that all too clearly broadcast the utter panic that has locked their brains solid. Fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to the upper reaches of Twilight’s office within the School and tilt down to a long shot of her behind the desk. She reads over a document held in her aura as the Crusaders stand before her.)
Scootaloo: (to Bloom/Sweetie) I know we wanted to be invited inside, but it kinda went different in my head. (Twilight sets her page down.)
Twilight: I can’t believe you’d do something like this! (Uneasy looks pass between the Crusaders.)
Bloom: Like…what? (Twilight steps out to them.)
Twilight: (backing them up with a wing) You are Cozy Glow’s tutors, aren’t you?
Scootaloo: We’ve been working with her for days.
Twilight: That’s what she told me. So you’ve been setting her up to fail? (Next three lines overlap.)
Bloom: How?
Scootaloo: What?!
Sweetie: No!
Twilight: I know you’re upset that I won’t let you come to my school. But to teach Cozy all the wrong things out of spite—that’s just cruel!
Sweetie: But we taught her all the right things!
Twilight: (levitating a page filled with red marks) Then how do you explain these friendship test answers? (reading) “What are the six Elements of Harmony? Five turtlenecks and a cheese grater”? “Who is the Princess of Friendship? Your mom”?
Bloom: Huh…I don’t understand.
Twilight: (pacing past them, no longer carrying test) Me neither. I never thought you three would pull such a mean prank. (magically opening office doors, gesturing at them with a wing) I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to stay away from my school—and my students.
(Heads hung low, the chastised youngsters file out past the stony-faced Princess. Only after all three have passed does her countenance begin to soften a touch; Cozy, waiting in the hall, gets a real shock upon seeing their crushed expressions and the doors being slammed shut behind them.)
Cozy: (to herself) Oh, no!
(She hurries away in a different direction. Dissolve to a close-up of an empty bookshelf as several volumes are floated up and slotted into place, then cut to the caster—Starlight standing on a stool in a small office set up for her use. Other shelves and cases hold assorted knickknacks and masses of scrolls; filing and storage cabinets stand across from these; posters, pictures, and a bulletin board hang behind the desk; a coat tree and a basket of miscellaneous items sit by the scroll rack; and a couple of kites dangle from the ceiling.)
Starlight: Hmmm?
(She scrutinizes two books at eye level, switches their places, and sends them to the shelf. Now a large globe can be seen resting in a corner near the closed office doors.)
Starlight: (listlessly) Yaaaaay. Now I’ll alphabetize them in reverse order. (One door swings open behind her as she sighs.) Not much need for a guidance counselor at a school of friendship.
(The quiet is broken by a throat-clearing that scares up a yell and sends her toppling sideways to the floor, her fall revealing the intruder as Cozy.)
Starlight: (panicked) H-How much of that did you hear? (horn igniting) Uh, never mind.
(One teleport later, she is seated behind her desk and righting the capsized stool to rest in front of it, laughing and doing her level best to seem casual.)
Starlight: Welcome! (Cut to a puzzled Cozy; she continues o.s.) Can I get you a comfort pillow? Security blanket?
(In time with her words, her magic shoves the first item into Cozy’s chest and drapes the second one over her form. Cut back to her, floating up two mugs of hot chocolate complete with marshmallows.)
Starlight: (gently) Empathy cocoa?
(They are set down on the desk as Cozy moves a bit closer and pushes the blanket back from her head, having already set the pillow aside.)
Cozy: Uh, I just need some advice. (The cloth slides to the floor.)
Starlight: (perking up, laughing a bit) Oh, well, I have plenty of that! Anecdotes, insight, midnight confessions— (catching herself) —I’m babbling. (Clear throat; compose self.) Go ahead. I’m listening.
Cozy: I think I got my friends in trouble. They helped me study for my friendship test, and I failed it…on purpose.
Starlight: (sputtering indignantly) Why would you do that? (catching herself) Uh, sorry. Listening.
(Her power brings up the mug on her side of the desk for a sip.)
Cozy: Well, the Cutie Mark Crusaders wanted to go to this school more than anything. So I thought if I showed Headmare Twilight they’re bad at friendship, she’d let them come here with me.
Starlight: (smiling wickedly) That’s devious! (catching herself) I-I mean— (deadpan) —I see.
(By the time she finishes her next sip, she has adopted an utterly blank expression that would make Maud Pie look like Pinkie by comparison. It only lasts a moment, though, shifting to a gentle smile as she rests the mug on her desk.)
Cozy: I guess I still have a lot to learn about friendship.
Starlight: Actually, I think you’re doing all right. Sure, that was a really, really bad way to try to help your friends— (Cut to Cozy; she continues o.s.) —but what matters is, you wanted to.
(A tiny smile on the pink face; now Starlight steps out from the desk.)
Starlight: The reason the Cutie Mark Crusaders don’t go to this school is that they’d make better teachers than students. (Cozy pops into an excited hover.)
Cozy: So you do have a place for them here?
Starlight: (thoughtfully) Hmmm…
(Dissolve to the exterior of the schoolhouse, zooming in slowly to the sound of varied foals’ chatter, then cut to the classroom. One and all are engaged in tidying up the place; cut to an extreme close-up of a chisel held in Bloom’s hooves and being used to scrape wads of chewing gum from the underside of a desk. It is a tough slog indeed, and the filly voices an annoyed grunt when the camera shifts to her, lying on her back to get at the gunk.)
Bloom: I bet there’s no “wonderful world of cleaning” lesson at Twilight’s school.
(Up front, Sweetie has an eraser in her magical grip and is using it to clear the blackboard. Pounding it against the slate surface releases a cloud of chalk dust that sets her to coughing.)
Sweetie: (glumly) We’ll never find out now.
(A ball of crumpled paper is pitched from behind the front desk to land in a nearby trash can, the thrower being revealed as Scootaloo when she shambles out with a long sigh. A banana peel resting on the floor by the receptacle goes in next.)
Scootaloo: I still don’t get how Cozy failed her test after all that studying.
Sweetie: Or how Twilight could blame us for it.
Bloom: (pulling at a wad of gum stuck on her front hooves) Or how gum can be so sticky!
(They are jolted out of their funk by the sound of the door being knocked at and opened; cut to it, where Starlight trots in to stop alongside Cheerilee.)
Starlight: Sorry to interrupt, Miss Cheerilee, but can I borrow Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo?
(Three young heads rise from the vicinity of the front desk, apprehension writ large on their features. In close-up, the background changes abruptly to a somewhat darker area, an o.s. light source throwing their faces into sharp relief. A longer shot puts them back in Twilight’s office, standing in the middle of a floor that has suddenly become uncomfortably large and empty. All the lights have been extinguished except for two overhead fixtures that shine directly down on them, not unlike the archetypical police interrogation scenes of gangster movies set in the time before the Miranda warning became standard practice. The gum is gone from Bloom’s hooves now.)
(They are facing away from the office’s closed doors, which boom open to admit Twilight’s friends. Up come the normal lights as Fluttershy/Rarity take up a position on one side of the trio, Applejack/Pinkie/Rainbow on the other. Twilight’s chair is turned with its back to the gathering, but swivels deliberately to reveal her unsmiling visage behind the desk. The tension builds for a long, silent moment until Scootaloo completely loses her cool.)
Scootaloo: We didn’t do anything wrong! We promise!
Twilight: (smiling) I know that—now. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. (Cut to the Crusaders.)
Sweetie: (puzzled) Wait. So we’re not in trouble? (Zoom out to frame Starlight and a contrite Cozy entering on the next line.)
Starlight: Just the opposite. Cozy Glow, is there something you’d like to say?
Cozy: This is all my fault. I messed up my test on purpose so we could all go to school together. I’m sorry. (Twilight steps out from the desk.)
Twilight: Thank you, Cozy Glow. Honesty is one of the pillars of friendship— (to Crusaders; they grin) —but you already know that. Which is why I’d like to give you these.
(Their eyes wonderingly follow the direction of the light violet foreleg pointing in the neighborhood of her desk. Cut to Spike, who proudly walks in from one side of the room bearing a pillow loaded with three small scrolls. Each is secured with a red ribbon and a clip showing the School’s crest. He suddenly stumbles and hits the floor on his belly, driving all the air out of his lungs in a pained grunt, and the documents go flying across the room. Cut to the Crusaders’ hooves as they land, one in front of each, then tilt up to the fillies as they pick these up and regard them bemusedly. Spike straightens up with a deep blush and sheepish grin, earning a humoring smile from Twilight, and Applejack steps up behind Bloom.)
Applejack: They’re honorary diplomas— (removing hat, holding it to chest) —makin’ y’all official graduates of this here school.
(The yellow face erupts in joy; now Rainbow and Rarity address their respective younger siblings, biological and otherwise, bringing about the same response.)
Rarity: You’ve more than earned them.
Rainbow: Without even having to study!
(She and Scootaloo trade a high five; now Fluttershy nods to three birds hovering close by, each holding the upper end of a tasseled cord, and they lift off. The cords are attached to three mortarboard caps, which find their way onto the Crusaders’ heads just before Pinkie pops up behind them to let fly with a salvo of confetti and streamers from her party cannon. Their respective elders join the celebration, Applejack having donned her hat again.)
Bloom: Yeah!
Sweetie: Yeah!
Scootaloo: Yes!
Crusaders: (chanting, hopping around Starlight/Cozy) We are graduates! We are graduates! We are graduates!
(They have put the diplomas aside by this point, and they toss their caps into the air on the end of this line, the camera tilting up to follow. One drifts down past the lens and winds up on Twilight’s head as the brand-new alumni gather around her.)
Twilight: And if you’re interested, I think Starlight has a place for you at my school after all. (They slide over to the counselor.)
Crusaders: Woo-hoo!
Starlight: We could use some good friendship tutors on staff, and I hear you’re the best out there.
Bloom: Then what are we waitin’ for? Let’s get tutorin’! (heading for the door with Scootaloo) Come on, Cozy!
(Sweetie and Cozy fall in behind these two, while Twilight—no longer wearing the mortarboard—addresses Starlight.)
Twilight: (chuckling, touching Starlight) And that’s why this school needs you as our guidance counselor.
(A blush tints the pinkish-violet cheeks, the big blue eyes above them shining as the mouth below curves into a smile of deepest gratitude for this recognition of her efforts. Cut to the School’s front walkway, the four friends laughing as they race along it—the Crusaders on hoof, Cozy on wing—and fade to black as the pink face fills the screen.)
THE MEAN 6
Written by Michael Vogel
Produced by Devon Cody
Story editing by Nicole Dubuc, Josh Haber
Supervising direction by Jim Miller
Directed by Denny Lu, Mike Myhre
Transcribed by Alan Back (ajback@yahoo.com)
Prologue
(Opening shot: fade in to the exterior of the School of Friendship during the day and zoom in slowly. On the start of the following line, cut to Twilight Sparkle in her office; she glances nervously at a levitated pocket watch as her friends and Starlight Glimmer look on with concern. Pinkie Pie sits behind Twilight’s desk, while Rarity sits on a stool and Rainbow Dash hovers overhead; the others are standing.)
Twilight: (moaning) I’ve been planning this retreat for weeks and we’re already ten minutes behind! (viciously, tucking watch away) Where is that photographer?!
Mare voice: (muffled, frantically) Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!
(The doors are flung open and the speaker scrambles in—a pale greenish-gray unicorn with two-tone red-brown mane/tail, medium green eyes, and a cutie mark of a ladybug and a scatter of seeds. A camera is clamped in a jointed holder around her neck.)
Photographer: I’m so sorry! Can you forgive me? I don’t expect you to forgive me. (softly) Forgive me? (Big grin; Twilight groans loudly.)
Starlight: (crossing to her, chuckling) Of course. I’ll help you set up your—
Photographer: (ignoring her, calming down) Princess Twilight, thanks so much for this. The Canterlot Historical Society is thrilled to document the friendship work your teachers do. Let me just pretty you all up.
(She whisks from one instructor to the next, plucking a loose hair from each head and mumbling to herself as she goes. In the process, she briefly causes Fluttershy’s mane to pop into a shape matching Pinkie’s, interrupts the pink pony in the midst of sampling a batch of cupcakes, and mashes Applejack’s hat onto her face after levitating it off to retrieve a hair. The sequence stops with a close-up of the still-hovering Rainbow, who winces at the sound of a strand being plucked.)
Rainbow: Ow!
(Zoom out; she wheels to glare down at the overeager mare, who has just helped herself to the varicolored tail hairs.)
Rainbow: Hey! (She rubs her rump.)
Photographer: Don’t want a single hair out of place, do we? (crossing office) This is for the history books. (She stops amid the group.) Now…
(The camera shutter and flash fire off in rapid succession, capturing the images of Twilight and her friends no matter how unready they happen to be or how much the picture-taking rattles them. Applejack has her hat back on straight by the time her turn comes. Almost too quickly to follow, the photographer has the six photos in her field and is sweeping them into a stack.)
Photographer: Well, that’s that. (turning to doors) Bye! (Pinkie slides in, standing on her hind legs to block the way.)
Pinkie: WAAAAIT!! (pointing) You forgot Starlight!
(Cut to the guidance counselor, who has indeed gone totally unnoticed.)
Pinkie: (from o.s., pointing to her) She needs a picture too! (Starlight grins; cut to the visitor, suddenly disinterested.)
Photographer: ’Kay.
(She snaps a picture, barely even troubling to aim the camera, and pulls it free with a smile when it pops out.)
Photographer: Now I’ll get out of your manes. I know how busy you are.
(Out she goes, leaving seven extremely confused mares in her wake. Cut to a patch of woods not far from the School as the shutter-happy unicorn trots into it, a sinister smile now plastered across her face. Once satisfied that she is out of sight and earshot, she pulls out her first six snapshots and extends her field to hold and flip through them in midair. The hairs she plucked are brought up next in a clump.)
Photographer: (softly) Now I have everything I need.
(Her horn winks out just long enough to let the items fall to earth, then blazes anew to send up a wash of lurid green fire around herself. It subsides to reveal the pocked form of Chrysalis, appearing as she did when she fled her now-former hive in Part Two of “To Where and Back Again,” but with one minor change. The crown-like cluster of antennae that she lost when her throne was obliterated has regenerated itself. Her crazed, exultant laugh rings through the woodland before the view snaps to black.)
OPENING THEME
Act One
(Opening shot: fade in to a ground-level view of a misty forest path as Chrysalis’s hooves advance along it, then cut to a small clearing ringed by six gnarled, moss-overgrown trees. As she speaks, she attaches one photo and its corresponding hair to each tree.)
Chrysalis: Yes, I know. We have been planning this for quite some time. (Laugh; she caresses Applejack’s picture.) Oh, thank you, Applejack. My spell can create a copy of anypony I desire. All I need is an image and a piece of the pony. (Sniff the hair; horn warms up.) Oh, and this.
(A blast lances into the twisted wood just below the snap, burning a copy of the earth pony’s cutie mark into the bark; now Chrysalis glances off in a new direction.)
Chrysalis: Why copies, Rarity? (pacing to that tree) Because Princess Twilight and her friends control the Elements of Harmony, the most powerful weapon in all Equestria.
(She brands Rarity’s three gems onto the trunk.)
Chrysalis: (prancing to Pinkie’s tree, cheery staccato enunciation) Which means you will be able to use them too!
(The party pony’s mark is burned into the surface, after which she slides over to Fluttershy’s picture, hugging the tree and resuming her normal speech pattern.)
Chrysalis: And serve me.
(Three butterflies are scored onto the bark.)
Chrysalis: (scornfully, moving to Rainbow’s photo) Together, we will destroy Twilight Sparkle and her meddlesome friends!
(After her horn carves the cloud/lightning-bolt combo, she lunges toward Twilight’s tree, the last one she has not yet visited.)
Chrysalis: Of course I haven’t forgotten Starlight Glimmer! She stole my hive. Turned my subjects against me. So I’ll take her friends away while she watches, and then I’ll destroy her!
(A peal of wild laughter rings out as she chars the trunk with the Princesss’s mark. Now she returns to the center of the clearing, the camera zooming out slowly.)
Chrysalis: With the Elements under my control, I’ll build a new hive of earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi— (igniting horn; a circle of green runes glows on the grass around her) —and I will rule as Queen once again!
(Six beams sing out from the tip, one punching into each of the photo/hair pairings, and six more flow from one to the next to trace a hexagonal perimeter around the clearing. These energies fade away after a long moment, giving way to glowing fissures that race up the six trunks and cause them to peel apart as if they were ears of corn being shucked. As Chrysalis’s anticipating eyes dart from one ravaged tree to another, six forms composed of that same sick green light stand up from the interiors with terrible slowness. The camera pans across these as the radiance fades away to yield duplicates of Twilight and her friends; the manes are slightly rumpled, the colors faded, and the facial expressions are nowhere close to friendly. The Applejack clone has a few rips in the brim of her hat, and the irises in each pair of eyes are a single color, with none of the light-to-dark shading visible in the originals.)
(There are a few differences in the cutie marks as well. The arrangements of the three elements in the marks of Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity—apples, butterflies, gems—has been inverted, and both the apples in the farmer’s mark and her mane/tail ties are green rather than red. Rainbow’s mark is upside down, and the white star overlaid by the pink one on Twilight’s haunch has gone that same color to leave a twelve-pointed pink star at the center. Pinkie’s mark is the only one that cannot be clearly seen at the moment.)
(Stop on Twilight, whose mouth curves up into a cruel smile, and dissolve to a stretch of sunny sky above the treetops. Tilt down toward ground level on the start of the next line, framing the six genuine articles and Starlight moving through a tranquil stretch of forest. Twilight leads them, using a magically held quill/scroll to take notes, Rainbow flies above the group, and a visibly unenthused Starlight lags well behind, trailing a load of cargo as it is towed along.)
Twilight: Hmmm…at least our retreat isn’t too far behind schedule. Get ready for fun!
Rainbow: Are we talking fun fun, or learning pretending to be fun?
Twilight: Both! We’ve all been so busy teaching, we’ve hardly had a chance to hang out with each other. (giddily; Rainbow smiles) And I may have scheduled some friendship activities as well.
Pinkie: (hopping forward to them) Count me in! We can do friendship trust falls and pony pyramids—oh! And hide-and-seek!
(She punctuates this list by leaning her weight against Rainbow, standing on her front hooves atop the blue back, and finally darting away.)
Pinkie: (now o.s.) Quick! Find me! (Cut to Fluttershy.)
Fluttershy: Well, I love the idea of some quiet time with my best friends. (She stops short when Pinkie bursts out of the undergrowth with a boisterous shriek.)
Pinkie: Found me!
(Elsewhere, Applejack and Rainbow are hauling loads of equipment—a full cart and a pair of small saddlebags, respectively—as a rather puzzled Rainbow pulls in to hover alongside.)
Rainbow: Rarity, why is Applejack carrying all your stuff?
Rarity: Oh, that’s not mine. Yes, I used to overpack a tad, but now it’s just the essentials for me. I’m a simple filly.
Applejack: (giddily, as Rainbow touches down) Normally I wouldn’t lug so much gear, but did y’all know this is Starlight’s first time campin’?
(All three pairs of eyes turn back the way they came, the camera panning to frame the laggard unicorn.)
Starlight: (stopping) I just never really felt the need to…hang out in nature? (waving flies away) Home has books, tea, fewer bugs, a roof…
Applejack: That attitude right there is why I brought the whole kit and caboodle. (All stop; she pulls at a length of camouflage-patterned cloth.) I’m givin’ Starlight the full Apple family campin’ experience!
(As she finishes, she yanks it loose and tosses it up so that it drapes itself over the lackadaisically passing Starlight in the fore and fills the screen. The view clears to show it piled on the ground in a wriggling heap, from which Starlight’s head, legs, and tail eventually emerge to leave her standing and wearing it as a poncho. She is far from amused.)
(Cut to Twilight and Fluttershy walking side by side, the former having stowed the quill/scroll she was using earlier.)
Fluttershy: Um, where are we camping?
Twilight: Right next to the Elements that brought us all together in the first place—the Tree of Harmony.
(On the end of this line, the camera describes a long arc that takes it up to treetop level and down again, stopping in the unwholesome clearing that served as ground zero for the creation of the mares’ doubles.)
*** For the remainder of this episode, duplicates will be denoted with a 2 at the end of their names. ***
(Applejack-2 sits on her haunches, glaring at a stretched-out Pinkie-2 on the ground as Fluttershy-2 lies nearby on her belly; Rainbow-2 lounges on a clump of twisted tree roots, chewing a stalk of wheat; a scowling Rarity-2 approaches the four as Chrysalis stands up to address the five. Twilight-2 is nowhere near this area for the moment. Like their faces, the voices of all six are devoid of any hint of geniality. Now Pinkie-2’s cutie mark can be clearly seen, the arrangement of the three balloons inverted relative to the original source.)
Chrysalis: Listen to your Queen! We must retrieve the Elements of Harmony! (Pinkie-2 sits up.)
Pinkie-2: Hunting down some lame Elements? (Fluttershy-2 steps over to her.) This is the worst day ever!
(The faded pink mare gets a dirt clod kicked into her eye and has to wipe it away on the next line.)
Fluttershy-2: No. Now it’s the worst day ever! (Nasty chuckle; Rarity-2 crosses to Chrysalis.)
Rarity-2: Those Elements are mine! (planting hoof on a loose stone) Along with this rock! Oh, and that twig. (She pins it down as well.)
Applejack-2: (slyly, tapping hat) I got all kinds of Elements right here under my hat. I’ll let you see ’em for five bits. (Rainbow-2 spits out her stalk with a scoff.)
Rainbow-2: Losers.
(The boss is very much taken aback by this display of bad behavior, but she gets a further surprise when Twilight-2 steps in.)
Twilight-2: Why didn’t you just attack them?
Chrysalis: (needled) Excuse me?
Twilight-2: You were close enough to pull hairs from their manes. Why not just take your revenge then?
Chrysalis: They’ve defeated my army. I know better than to strike alone. (Twilight-2 smirks.) I need—
Twilight-2: (mockingly) —friends?
Chrysalis: Servants! And the power of the Elements!
Twilight-2: (sardonically) Right. So where are these Elements of Harmony?
Chrysalis: (pacing past her) The location of the most powerful weapon in Equestria isn’t something made known to just anypony. (She leans into Twilight-2’s face.) I learned they were hidden somewhere in this forest.
Twilight-2: (sourly, passing her) Yeah, well, it is a big forest.
(The banished changeling can only snarl to herself in barely contained fury. Wipe to Twilight and company making their way through the inviting forest—all but Pinkie, that is, who whisks back from somewhere up ahead to intercept. She is up on her hind legs.)
Pinkie: Everypony, stop! (smiling, turning on all fours to a rosebush) And smell these roses! (She takes a deep sniff…) Ahhhh.
(…then throws herself onto the bush and rolls across it.)
Pinkie: (blissfully) Oh, yeah.
Twilight: (laughing weakly, but a bit unnerved) All right, roses, fun. Now, let’s try and stay on schedule.
(They carry on; cut to a close-up of Rarity, who stops and pats at her slightly frizzed mane with mild consternation. Zoom out to frame Applejack also halted nearby.)
Rarity: Applejack, darling, anything in that wagon for mane maintenance?
(The blonde unhitches herself and steps back to look over the freight she has been pulling—camping-related tools, one and all.)
Applejack: (rummaging) Uh, let’s see here, uh, all right. (pulling out a bandana) I got a bandana.
Rarity: An entire wagon and no anti-frizz. Darling, you’re not even prepared. (Applejack, miffed, returns it to the cart.)
Applejack: I am—for campin’. (Glance back along the trail.) How you doin’, Starlight?
(Pan in that direction to frame the first-time camper—face scuffed, knit cap now covering her mane, camouflage boots on all four hooves, lantern hung around neck, laboring to move under the weight of the camping gear piled high on her back. She stubs a hoof with a grunt and comes within an ace of measuring her length on the forest floor, but recovers her balance just in time.)
Starlight: (sourly) Great.
(Up ahead, Fluttershy’s forward progress is stopped when a bit of plaintive cheeping reaches her ears. The source proves to a sad-eyed bird on the grass just past the edge of the trail, and it tells her its story with sound and gesture as the others keep moving.)
Fluttershy: Oh, no! You and your sister fell out of your nest and got separated? That’s terrible!
(Close-up of it, the edge of one yellow wing being held flat at its level.)
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) Here.
(It hops on. Back to her; it shifts up toward the joint as she moves toward the trees.)
Fluttershy: I’m sure your home isn’t too far away.
(Her quill and scroll at the ready again, Twilight leads most of the others along the trail; Rarity’s mane/tail are back to their usual impeccable state. Pinkie is not hoofing it with them, but instead has found a loop of vine dangling from a tree branch just up ahead and is using it as a swing. Her rear hooves knock against the parchment on one upward arc, very nearly smashing into Twilight’s face to boot; the latter voices a startled squawk and quickly floats her implements out of reach.)
Twilight: Pinkie! (The swinging halts.) If we keep stopping to have fun, we’re never gonna get to the fun things I’ve got planned!
Pinkie: (gasping softly) Good point! Last one to the Tree of Harmony is a parasprite!
(She peels out in a cloud of dust and a merry squeal, leaving the thwarted expedition guide to let out a soft, exasperated sigh. Wipe to the overgrown forest area, where Chrysalis and Twilight-2 step out from behind some bushes just before Pinkie-2 throws herself into view to land on her belly.)
Pinkie-2: I’m soooooo bored. (rolling onto back) Are we there yet?
Twilight-2: Where yet? We don’t even know where we’re going! (Applejack-2 joins them.)
Chrysalis: (annoyed, leading Twilight-2 ahead) The quicker we search the forest, the quicker we find the Elements. (Pinkie-2 tries halfheartedly to rise, but gives up.)
Applejack-2: I know where the Elements are. (pointing to a rock, as Fluttershy-2 trudges up) This, uh, here boulder just told me. (smirking; they move on) I swear.
(The faded yellow pegasus stops short at the sound of a plaintive cheep from ground level, and a longer shot reveals the source as a bird identical to the one who got a lift from the real Fluttershy—its sister, based on her translation.)
Fluttershy-2: You tried to fly out of the nest, you fell and got lost?
(It chirps an affirmative, only to receive a venomous cackle in reply.)
Fluttershy-2: Hope you like walking!
(The mockery continues as she nudges it roughly away with her head. Now Rainbow-2, flying lazily at the back of the procession, stops for a midair stretch and yawn.)
Rainbow-2: Come get me when I should care.
(Off she goes on a new heading; Chrysalis rounds on Applejack-2 and Rarity-2.)
Chrysalis: (half-growling) Where are the others?!
Applejack-2: (eyes darting nervously) Uh…a, uh…a bugbear in…plaid socks flew down and, uh, gra—and grabbed ’em, then disappeared. Huh. Craziest thing I ever did see.
Chrysalis: Turn around. We’re going back.
Twilight-2: No. Keep searching. I’ll find the others. We can accomplish more if we split our resources.
(A long, penetrating stare from Chrysalis as she considers this proposal.)
Chrysalis: Very well. You have my permission.
(Faded violet wings spread to take the impostor away on the start of her search. She waits to speak until she is well out of earshot.)
Twilight-2: Permission? You need us way more than we need you, Your Majesty.
(These last two words are infused with every drop of contempt she can gin up.)
Twilight-2: The others are fools, but with me to lead them, there’s no reason we can’t find the Elements and keep the power for ourselves!
(She cruises on through the foreboding woodland as the view fades to black.)
Act Two
(Opening shot: fade in to a clear spot as Twilight-2 touches down. A rustle in the nearby undergrowth prompts a soft gasp; she pivots toward it, warming up her horn, only for Pinkie to leap out and tackle her joyfully to the ground.)
Pinkie: You’re it! (puzzled) Hey, how’d you get ahead of me? You’re fast. (Twilight-2 extricates herself and stands up.)
Twilight-2: I’m looking for Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash.
Pinkie: (pointing behind herself) Aren’t they back there?
Twilight-2: They are?
Pinkie: Sure, unless they’re already at the Tree of Harmony.
Twilight-2: (really confused) What is the Tree of Harmony?
(The medium blue eyes throw her a very strange look for a moment.)
Pinkie: (slyly) O-ho-ho! This is one of your activities, right?
(A wink and brief rear-up on “activities,” after which she shifts to her normal bubbly demeanor.)
Pinkie: Like a friendship quiz? It’s the crystal tree that holds the Elements of Harmony. Boom.
Twilight-2: (gasping, smiling savagely) Where is it?
Pinkie: (slamming a front hoot to the ground) Bzzt! It’s at the bottom of the stairs in the ravine by the Castle of the Two Sisters. (Rear up; cross forelegs smugly.) A double boom.
Twilight-2: How do you know? You’ve seen it?
Pinkie: (nodding, on all fours) Mmm-hmm. (Twilight-2 turns away with a nasty smile…) Honestly, Twilight, these questions are super-easy.
(…then rubs the tips of her wings together as she sets off into the brush. Dissolve to a close-up of an empty nest as Fluttershy flies up to return the bird she found to it.)
Fluttershy: Right where you belong.
(Receiving a grateful hug to her cheek—as much of her as the little avian can grip with its spread wings—she drops back to the forest floor. The rescue mission has carried her into a much less hospitable area.)
Fluttershy: Oh, dear. This isn’t where I belong. (Soft gasp.)
(Through a gap in the canopy, she spots Rainbow-2 pulling into a hover.)
Fluttershy: Oh, Rainbow Dash! I’m so glad you’re here! I was lost.
Rainbow-2: Bummer! Later.
(Off she goes. Long pause.)
Fluttershy: What just happened?
(Wipe to Applejack, Rainbow, Rarity, and Starlight all calling Fluttershy’s name in various directions from the trail and zoom out. A rather put-out Twilight stands a few paces ahead, having put away her quill and scroll.)
Twilight: (groaning) Fantastic. First Pinkie races ahead of us, and now Fluttershy’s lost somewhere behind us! My retreat is off to a great start. (Applejack unhitches herself from her cart.)
Rarity: It’s not like Fluttershy to disappear like this.
Applejack: We’ll split up and search for her. We can all meet back at the Tree. (holding a compass out to Starlight) Starlight, take the navigation gear and—
Starlight: (hastily) —go with Rarity? Great! Rainbow Dash, you can go with Applejack. (Chuckle.)
Twilight: I’ll find Pinkie Pie.
(She starts on ahead as Applejack stows the compass, whirls the cart 180 degrees, hitches herself up, and heads back the way they came with the rest of the gang. Dissolve to a close-up of Pinkie-2 lying spreadeagle on the grass.)
Pinkie-2: Bored, bored, bored. (Chrysalis lands next to her.)
Chrysalis: This is ridiculous! (glaring down at her) Where are my other minions?
Rarity-2: (from o.s.) Probably plotting to steal my things!
(Cut to her on the end of this, up on her hind legs and using her body to shield a pile of random leaves/rocks/vines from any potential marauders. She voices a feral snarl before Applejack sidles up to the slightly unnerved changeling.)
Applejack-2: (pointing overhead) They’re at a secret party up in that there tree—uh, run by a squirrel, uh, named, uh…uh, Jerome. But, uh…y-you need a password to get in.
(Having had quite enough of apathy, cupidity, and mendacity for the moment, Chrysalis snarls and lifts all three in her magic.)
Chrysalis: Enough!
(They are flung away to hit the ground on their backs, but get no respite before the pockmarked hooves slam down by their heads and she leans in close. Lank blue-green mane strands flop about her slit-pupiled green eyes.)
Chrysalis: You will go out there and find the others. You will bring them back here, and we will steal the Elements of Harmony so I can destroy Starlight’s life like she destroyed mine! (through gritted teeth) Understand?
(The three manage to nod and squeak out their assent.)
Applejack-2: (aside) The party password is “rutabaga.”
(One of those eyes twitches uncontrollably as Chrysalis perhaps begins to think about stuffing this one back in the tree to cook a little longer. Dissolve to a close-up of the bird Fluttershy-2 found and refused to help; as it struggles to climb a tree on its own, she leans mockingly into view over it.)
Fluttershy-2: Why don’t you fly up to your nest? Oh, that’s right. You can’t!
(Her cackle and glare float up as the bird reaches its sibling’s nest and is helped in, the latter voicing its opinion to the pegasus.)
Fluttershy-2: (dismissively) Oh, nopony asked you.
(Landing on the trail, she throws a filthy look to the various small animals that peek out from branches and burrows.)
Fluttershy-2: I hope you all freeze this winter!
(Her unappetizing laughter rings out once more as she stomps a couple of flower patches into the dirt and trots away, the creatures retreating into their hiding places. As soon as she and they are out of sight, Fluttershy emerges onto the path and hovers up to the nest to address the bird she returned to it.)
Fluttershy: Hello again, little friend. I think I may be walking in circles.
(It wastes no time in giving her a piece of its fine feathered mind, prompting a shocked gasp from her.)
Fluttershy: Oh, my! Where did you learn that kind of language?
(Touching down again, she turns fearfully to the critters that have peeked out to glare at her.)
Fluttershy: Um, excuse me…
(She gets no farther before being met with a cacophony of angry chitters, squeaks, growls, and other general noises of great displeasure. The overall effect is to make the animal lover drop into a whimpering huddle with her front hooves over her eyes. Cut to Applejack and Rainbow on the lookout, the former’s cart standing idle and unhitched.)
Rarity-2: (walking into view) Finally you’ve found her.
Rainbow: Me? We’re looking for Fluttershy.
Applejack: Where’s Starlight?
Rarity-2: Well, if I knew that…
(Her retort evaporates on her tongue as a gleefully avaricious grin splits her face, her attention zeroing in on the load of camping supplies. An instant later she is diving in among the lot and knocking the other two away.)
Rainbow: Hey!
Rarity-2: This is mine! And this as well! Oh, and this is absolutely mine!
(Accompanied by grabbing/levitating a spyglass, compass, and fishing rod, in that order.)
Applejack: (standing up) Rarity, what in the hay are you gonna do with a fishin’ rod?
Rarity-2: (casually, stroking it) I don’t know… (scowling) …but I wants it!
(The snort that escapes the nostrils over her bared teeth throws a real scare into Applejack and Rainbow, the former removing her hat to shield her face as the latter hovers a bit closer for protection. Wipe to Rarity and Starlight on the move; the unicorn-turned-pack-mule catches a hoof n a rock and goes down, prompting the fashionista to stop and give her a smile.)
Rarity: Starlight, darling, you’re a gloriously bad camper. And coming from me, that is saying a lot. (She extends a foreleg.)
Starlight: (grasping it, allowing herself to be pulled partway up) I know. Want to break it to Applejack for me? (Applejack-2 peeks up from the brush.)
Applejack-2: Who’s breakin’ what now?
(The interruption startles Rarity into pulling her hoof away and leaving Starlight to slam back down. Now the ersatz farmer steps out.)
Applejack-2: (to Starlight) Who’re you? (Starlight stands up.)
Starlight: Very funny, Applejack. Still me under all this gear—Starlight.
Applejack-2: Starlight? How ’bout that. (trotting ahead) Y’all better come with me. It’s, uh, dangerous out here. (Rarity’s next words stop her.)
Rarity: Applejack, darling, are you all right? (poking at her mane) You look a little peaky. And where’s your wagon?
Applejack-2: Uh…stolen! (grabbing her briefly) I—I barely got away. (starting away) Follow me and I’ll tell you all about it.
(Despite obvious reservations, Rarity follows the lead; Starlight, meanwhile, is too fatigued to apply any critical reasoning and just plods along behind. Dissolve to Pinkie-2 sitting dourly on a tangle of tree roots that protrude from the water at the edge of a swamp as Twilight flies to her.)
Twilight: Pinkie! There you are! What are you doing?
(She gets no response except for a foreleg pointed toward the water, whose surface distends with a swelling gas bubble that presents distorted reflections of both faces. Purple eyes flick worriedly toward the joyless countenance before it bursts.)
Pinkie-2: You call that a pop? Ugh!
Twilight: I thought you were racing to the retreat.
Pinkie: (hopping off roots and o.s.) Please. Why would I waste my time on a boring, lame, no-fun retreat?
Twilight: (stunned) What?
(She glumly settles into Pinkie-2’s place and watches the murky ripples for a moment until a familiar sky-blue reflection passes across them.)
Twilight: (standing, waving toward sky) Rainbow Dash! I think something’s wrong with Pinkie! (It proves to be Rainbow-2, who does not even slow down.)
Rainbow-2: Not my problem.
(But Twilight gets one of her own when she loses balance and traction and topples into the swamp. The splash leaves her groaning weakly and covered in muck. A fresh bubble grows to fill the screen, then pops to yield a head-on close-up of Twilight-2 and Pinkie traveling through the forest.)
Pinkie: And then we all grew super-long manes with all kinds of colors! And your castle grew out of the ground and everypony was like, “Whoa!” And then we sang this song about rainbows and—
(First sentence: she briefly adopts the powered-up appearance she gained during the showdown with Lord Tirek in Part Two of “Twilight’s Kingdom.” Second: she holds up a small model of the Castle of Friendship for a moment. Third: she hops to Twilight-2’s other side. The high-speed recap grates on the duplicate’s nerves with increasing severity, to the point that she is grinding her teeth by the time Pinkie cuts herself off with a sharp gasp and clutches at her for support. Cut to Fluttershy, lying crumpled and sobbing by herself in the spot where the forest creatures told her off, as Pinkie hurries to her.)
Pinkie: Fluttershy! What’s wrong!
(The yellow pegasus lifts her face, revealing eyes that brim with tears.)
Fluttershy: Everycreature is mad at me!
Pinkie: (gasping) What? That can’t be right!
(She helps Fluttershy up to a sitting position and assumes one of her own to comfort her friend; Twilight-2 observes with an annoyed grumble and steps toward them.)
Twilight-2: Can we hurry this up? We’re on a schedule here!
Pinkie: Twilight, your schedule can wait! Fluttershy’s upset.
Twilight-2: Well, tell her to get over it! I’ll go get the others. Stay here!
(Almost as soon as she has trotted off, a shadow in the same shape as her head and mane falls over them from o.s. and the voice of the real Twilight is heard—only slightly less irked than her double.)
Twilight: (from o.s.) Oh, great.
(Cut to frame all three; she has cleaned up from her fall and is addressing Pinkie.)
Twilight: You upset Fluttershy too? (Pinkie stands up and leans hard into her face.)
Pinkie: You know what, Twilight? (poking her in the chest) Maybe if you weren’t so worried about schedules, you’d realize you’re the one ruining the retreat for your friends!
(This verbal jab brings a gasp and tears in the purple eyes.)
Twilight: Well, if my friends don’t care about the retreat I planned for them, maybe they should have stayed home!
Fluttershy: Can’t we all just get along?
(Wipe to a gloomy stretch of forest as Twilight-2 storms into view.)
Twilight-2: (to herself) Keep it together. You can do this. You need those imbeciles if your plan is gonna come together.
Chrysalis: (from o.s.) Your plan?
(These two words stop Twilight-2 in her tracks and prompt a soft gasp as the mastermind steps into the open.)
Twilight-2: Uh, the plan. I’m just trying to do your bidding… (bowing) …Your Majesty.
Chrysalis: Grub-sitting you six is nothing like controlling my hive! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just destroy you all and start over!
Twilight-2: (raising her eyes) Because I know where the Elements of Harmony are. (smiling wickedly) You need me.
(Chrysalis is briefly thrown off guard by this assertion, but breaks into an oily laugh as she realizes that this scheme may yet play out in her favor. Zoom in slowly and fade to black.)
Act Three
(Opening shot: fade in to a crazed Rarity-2, walking along with seemingly every item from Applejack’s cart held in her aura.)
Rarity-2: (gathering them closer to herself) Mine! Mine! (giggling dementedly) Mine!
(Right behind her are Applejack, pulling the empty cart and wearing her hat again, and a flying Rainbow; pan to them.)
Rainbow: (hushed, to Applejack) I’m guessing some kind of curse? Maybe Poison Joke?
Applejack: (ditto) Well, somethin’ sure ain’t right.
Rarity-2: (from o.s.) What are you plotting back there?
(They stop, caught off guard; she glares back over her shoulder at them.)
Rarity-2: I can hear you, you know! (Wheel to face them.) Don’t think you’re going to steal my things!
(She races off with the plunder, only to plow headlong into a jumble of hanging vines and wind up firmly entangled with a few items while the rest scatter on the ground.)
Applejack: Hang on. (Unhitch; rummage in cart.) I got a shovel we can use to whack those vines out of the way.
(Rainbow casts an eye toward the wipeout and smiles, having noticed that very tool caught in the greenery. Her attempt to retrieve it is cut off by Rarity-2’s next words, the camera cutting to Applejack and back on the following.)
Rarity-2: I knew it! I knew you wanted it all for yourselves! You can’t have it!
(A few of the strands supporting her weight choose this moment to snap, dumping her to the ground, but she is upright in a blink and yanking at Rainbow’s tail.)
Rarity-2: It’s mine, you hear me?! (Grab everything up again.) ALL MINE!!
(Her last word trails off into a totally unhinged laugh as she barrels off through the woods, leaving two hopelessly perplexed ponies to stare after her. Dissolve to Applejack-2 leading Rarity and Starlight, the orange glow of sunset playing across the slivers of sky visible between the twisted trees.)
Applejack-2: So there I was, just me and, uh, a bucket of honey—yeah, yeah, that’s the ticket. (turning to face them; all stop) Uh, but I—I survived all by myself in this here forest for a…a hundred and twenty-seven hours. (They resume walking.)
Rarity: Really? I can’t believe you’ve never told us that story before.
Starlight: (wearily) She’s making a point. (to Applejack-2; all stop again) We get it. You’re the greatest camper in the history of Equestria.
Applejack-2: Well, I sure don’t need any of that silly stuff you’re luggin’ around.
Starlight: (needled, scoffing) The things you gave me are silly?
Applejack-2: (chuckling faintly) Just look in a mirror. Guess I shoulda told you that before, huh?
(Her derisive laugh causes Starlight to gasp in shock, tear up, and throw her knit cap down at the faded orange-tan hooves. The mane beneath it is left in total disarray.)
Starlight: (casting off gear and poncho, voice breaking) Glad I was so entertaining for you!
(By the time she has shucked the load, her mane is back in order and her face is clean of the scuffs that have dotted it throughout most of this long march. The boots are last to go, after which she trots away and Rarity fixes Applejack-2 with a level gaze of barely restrained hostility.)
Rarity: I’m going to make sure that she doesn’t break a hoof out there, and then you and I are going to have a serious talk.
(She sets off after Starlight, just barely missing the arrival of Chrysalis and the rest of the doppelgangers.)
Chrysalis: Finally! There, that’s all of you. (Pinkie-2 sits sullenly on her belly.) Nopony leaves without my say-so.
Applejack-2: (to Rarity-2) Now wait a second. Weren’t you just—
(A green blast rips toward her and she ducks barely in time to keep her head on her shoulders. The torn cowboy hat falls off, and she swallows hard as Rarity-2’s stolen goods hit the dirt.)
Chrysalis: The time for my revenge on Starlight Glimmer has come! (menacingly, to Twilight-2) Let’s see if you’re telling the truth about this Tree.
(She laughs exultantly as the camera tilts up past the treetops toward the sinking sun. From here, dissolve to Starlight pelting along a trail.)
Rarity: (from o.s.) Starlight! (She gallops into view, in pursuit.) Oh, please stop running!
(A quick downward glance informs the fleeing unicorn that she is about to go off the edge of a precipice. She skids to a stop with inches to spare, but Rarity fails to catch the hint and slams into her with a panicked squeal. Both mares tumble over the edge and o.s., the camera shifting to follow their yelling, sliding drop over this ridge and out of sight again. Clouds of dust boil up from the impact and clear to show them both momentarily knocked out cold, but the sound of weeping from the o.s. Fluttershy snaps them back to consciousness.)
Twilight: (from o.s., crossly) Of course I care about Fluttershy!
(Overhead shot of her and Pinkie facing off as Fluttershy huddles miserably into herself and the two unicorns step up.)
Pinkie: Then you’ve got a super-weird way of showing it!
Rarity: Wh—what in Equestria is going on here?
Pinkie: Twilight is so into her retreat that she doesn’t even care if her friends are upset! (mockingly) She just wants us to stay on schedule!
(She drops to her haunches and adds air quotation marks with her front hooves for “retreat.”)
Twilight: Well, I’m sorry, Pinkie. If I knew you thought this was a boring, lame, no-fun retreat, I wouldn’t have invited you in the first place!
Pinkie: I never said that!
(The Princess finds herself at a loss for words as Applejack arrives, pulling her cart.)
[Animation goof: Applejack alternates between being hitched to her cart and unhitched during the following sequence.]
Applejack: Sorry, y’all. (Rainbow flaps sullenly behind her.) We woulda been here sooner, but we had to take the long way after Rarity ran off with all my stuff.
Rarity: Wh—? I most certainly did not!
Applejack: What? You know I ain’t no liar! (pointing to Starlight) Where’s all your gear?
Starlight: Why? So you can laugh at me some more?
Rainbow: Hey, hey, we’re all friends here.
(Only now does Fluttershy stand up, pushing Pinkie and Starlight off to either side.)
Fluttershy: Friends?!? (tearing up) You left me alone in the woods!
(As she breaks into a fresh gale of sobs, the camera cuts to a close-up of Twilight’s grimacing face and zooms in to the sound of a multi-way argument that rapidly frays her last good nerve.)
Twilight: EVERYPONY, QUIET!!
(All six shut up and pay attention, finding her rancor switched out for a patient smile.)
Twilight: Listen. We know each other really well—the great stuff, and how to get on each other’s nerves too.
(Her perspective, panning slowly across the other six as their expressions begin to soften.)
Twilight: I wanted a fun trip with my friends, but instead I got carried away with plans and ruined everything. (Back to her.) If you want to forget it all and head home, I won’t be offended. I just want us to stop fighting.
Applejack: (to Starlight) Hey. Sorry if I got carried away with all that campin’ stuff.
Starlight: I’m sorry too. I should’ve just told you I’ll never like camping. Also, I’ll never like camping.
Rarity: Well, if we’re all being honest… (pulling off one saddlebag) …I can’t survive with just this tiny yet fashionable little saddlebag! (crying) I miss my things!
Pinkie: (taking Twilight’s hoof) I’m sorry that you thought that I thought your plan was lame. Your plans are the most un-lamest!
(She pulls the Princess into a hug as Rainbow wings over to the pair.)
Rainbow: And I always have fun when we’re all together, even if it’s learning pretending to be fun.
Twilight: So…does that mean you still want to have the retreat? (Applejack, Rarity, and Starlight crowd in.)
Applejack, Pinkie, Rainbow, Rarity, Starlight: Yes!
Fluttershy: (from o.s.) If… (Cut to her, sitting a short distance away.) …everypony likes me again.
(She gets her answer in the form of a laughing tackle that leaves all seven on their backs, their typical bright spirits fully restored. Rarity has both bags on their strap again.)
Twilight: Let’s get to that Tree. I have the whole campsite set up and ready.
(Dissolve to the bottom of the ravine near the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, or of the Two Sisters, under a moonlit night sky. The Tree of Harmony glows serenely in its cavern, and a semicircle of tents has been erected along with a few other outdoor conveniences. Chrysalis and her six not-so-faithful underlings are making their way down the flight of steps that lead in here from the surface; cut to a closer shot as they descend the final stretch.)
Pinkie-2: Ugh! What’s this garbage?
Applejack-2: Badger installation art. You see—
Chrysalis: JUST RETRIEVE THE ELEMENTS!!
(With a spatter of malicious laughter, Fluttershy-2 ad Rarity-2 set to the job of wrecking the campsite with gusto. Pinkie-2 merely slithers along the ravine floor, while Rainbow-2 apathetically kicks over one tent.)
Rarity-2: (giggling dementedly, gathering items in her magic) Mine!
Twilight-2: (pulling Pinkie-2 upright) Once we get the power of the Elements— (The others gather in.) —no creature, not even Her Majesty, can tell us what to do. Just follow my lead. Got it?
(Rarity-2 has dropped everything she swiped. They trot snickering into the cavern, not noticing that Chrysalis has been in earshot the entire time.)
Rarity-2: (pointing) Ooh! (Her perspective; she points toward the blue Generosity gem.) That one’s mine!
(A brief flare of black plays over its surface. Back to the group; she starts toward the tree with a cackle, but trips on Fluttershy-2’s extended foreleg and ends up flat on her face.)
Fluttershy-2: Oops. I’d say sorry, but I’m not.
(The unicorn drags her down into a tussle, all the others but Twilight-2 moving toward the Tree.)
Twilight-2: Stop it, fools! (Kindness blinks black.) We need the Elements to take out Chrysalis!
(Applejack-2 begins to buck the crystalline trunk, while Pinkie-2 hammers at it with her front hooves. Twilight-2 is the only one of the group to notice the shadow of Chrysalis falling over them, and she utters a soft, frightened gasp before the camera cuts to the boiling-mad despot at the mouth of the cavern.)
Chrysalis: How dare you! I created you!
(She uncorks a blast from her horn; Twilight-2 conjures up a hemispherical shield around herself to block it, but is still pushed back toward the Tree. As Applejack-2 keeps bucking, now hard enough to shake the whole thing, the Honesty gem flashes black; Laughter does likewise in response to Pinkie-2’s strikes and crazed mirth. Rainbow takes no part in the battering, but instead settles down at the base of the trunk for a nap, triggering Loyalty to sound off. Twilight-2’s straining face curves into a cruel little grin, and she pulls her shield’s power back into her horn and projects it as a beam to push back the one Chrysalis has sustained against her. The sweating, fanged face goes slack with the terrible realization that her plan has completely backfired; as the beam drives itself toward her horn, the camera cuts to the Tree. The Magic gem at the center of its trunk goes dead black and stays that way, tendrils of that same color snaking out to extinguish the other Elements of Harmony. Wisps of whitish energy snake out from all six, each snaring the corrupted copy of the pony who represents it. Twilight-2 is last to be caught up, her magic and Chrysalis’s winking out as she gasps in surprise and annoyance—and all are reeled in and suspended helpless for the boss to see in full detail as they begin to wither and sag.)
Twilight-2: Imbeciles! You ruined everythiiiiiiiing!
(The end of her last word is lost under an almighty flare of white light that washes out the screen. When it subsides, the view has shifted to a close-up of one patch of the Tree’s still-glowing roots. Six small chunks of gnarled wood clatter down among them, each the faded color of one duplicate’s coat—all that remains of the heartwood from which they were formed.)
Chrysalis: (contemptuously, walking toward Tree) Servants always fail you in the end.
(The gleam and the black both fade away, leaving the Tree and the Elements safe and sound.)
Chrysalis: Just wait, Starlight. (Extreme close-up.) I will have my revenge!
(Dissolve to an extreme close-up of Twilight’s face, eyes flicking around herself in mild confusion, and zoom out as she pulls in a gasp.)
Twilight: (weakly) Are you kidding me?
(Longer shot: the seven mares have found the remains of the campsite. Applejack is no longer towing her cart. Pinkie surveys the damage for a long moment before breaking into a gale of laughter.)
Pinkie: This was the worst day EVER! (The others join in.)
Starlight: Come on, everypony. We can fix this campsite in no time.
Applejack: Spoken like a true camper.
Starlight: Eh, don’t push it. (Chuckling, she and Applejack get to work.)
Twilight: You know, if we can survive a day like this—
(All others start tidying up as the camera zooms out to a long shot of the ravine and the night sky.)
Twilight: —I think our friendship is strong enough to handle anything the world can throw at us.
(Unseen by the group, the tiny black speck of Chrysalis’s form lifts off from the forest and flees into the night, disappearing against the brightness of the full moon. Fade to black.)