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House Calls Chapter 12Chapter XII: Dancing with the Devil
Jazz (London, England 19th Century)
"What are you doing?" Tucker asked as I added some information to my notebook. I explained this is a golden opportunity to learn the psychology of a higher form of intelligence and I was taking down everything the Doctor tells us. "You know Psychology hasn't been invented yet," I just ignore him and continue writing.
"We must be careful. Our enemy is clever and wise beyond all comprehension," the Doctor said looking around making the sure everything was clear. Tucker says we could take this Simeon dude in our sleep. "No!" the time lord turning to face us, "Simeon is merely his vessel, his mouth piece. You cannot hope to overcome the Great Intelligence," Tucker merely looks at him confident that our ghost fighting has equipped us to face this intelligence.
The Doctor takes out his 'screwdriver' and aims at the door. It swings open and he motions us for to follow him. To our surprise we find ourselves
Snapshots of Equestria: Egg ColoringEgg Coloring
"Why can't we start now?" I asked Twilight as she set up the coloring stations. She glares at me and reminds we have to wait for the others to show up so she can instruct them on how to color and decorate the eggs. ”Everypony knows how to do this already and besides I want my eggs to be a surprise," I said looking at my bag of jewels if this doesn't impress Rarity I don't know what will.
"We don't know that egg coloring is a Canterlot tradition and not all ponies celebrate the spring sunrise with egg coloring," I sighed and looked at cups filled with all kinds of color. They were your normal red, blue, yellow, green, and purple but there was another cup. This one was looked like it was filled with a liquid metal. "I see you've noticed Princess Celestia's shimmer dye." I looked in amazement the princess never gives away the recipe for it let alone anypony doing it when she is not here. "Cadence taught me how to make when I was a foal," wow I can't
Snapshots of EquestriaMy Little Pony: Highs and Lows
By Hordak's Pupil
"Are you sure this is safe?" I asked Scootaloo as she made the final adjustments on her invention. She had been working on it all week long borrowing parts from Twilight, Dr. Whooves, and Rarity. She explained that we are sure to get our cutie marks as daredevils not to mention break the record for fastest ponies.
"Trust me I've watched Twilight and the doctor work on this stuff all the time," she gets out a remote control and presses a button. "To glory!" faster than a parasprite can fly we take off into the wild blue yonder. "This is awesome!"
"The squirt is going to be so surprised," I said looking at the Wonderbolts tickets I won. Scootaloo was sad that she was sick and couldn't have her birthday party at school. "She is going to...," I look up and see the three fillies racing into the air. "Hang on," I zoom into the air trying to catch up with them . "Stay toge
Unholy Unions Chapter 38Chapter XXXVIII: Serpents in the Garden
"Hello?" I called out as looked around the dark passage hoping to find somepony I knew. I could hear somepony talking nearby. I hid in a dark corner and listened to in what was going on.
"Why should we wait for Vlad to turn, we already have the power. We can easily trap him," it was the Flim Flam brothers but I thought they were friends with Vlad. The other said it was brilliant but with the amulet they couldn't hope to beat him. "Fear not dear Flam, our green friend has given us...," I froze as I stepped on a stone.
"It's one of those Cutie Mark Crusaders," I went to run but they conjured a magic rope and tied me up. "why are you leaving dear you're going to help us," I told them I would never help them and was about scream for help when they stuffed a cloth in my mouth."Who said you had a choice on this matter," I could feel my eyes getting heavy and I thought I heard them say, "good night Sweetie."
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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