Minutes passed and the drug took affect. Dash was numb from her chest to her flanks. Aware of this, Pinkie approached with her scalpel. With only a smiling glance to Dash, she made a long cut across her pelvis just above her crotch. Moving up her body, she drew a similar incision under her ribs. One final cut was made down her stomach, connecting the first two.
“Looks like I got my I on you, Dash.”
With a moist, gooey sound, the new door flapped opened.
Which made a meaningful complement for another door - the one leading to the bakery, which suddenly went thrust open with an deafening BLAM and a flash of dazzling white light. Pinkie Pie flinched of surprise, driving the scalpel deep into Dashe's chest, and turned around, trying to figure out, what was going on there. The room started to fill up with an acrid pale-green and yellow smoke.
It hasn't been more than a second, before a sound of dozen of clopping hooves came from the stairway and someone's voice, amplified with a loudspeaker, roared:
-GET DOWN ON THE FLOOR AND PUT YOUR HOOVES ABOVE YOUR HEAD! DO IT, PONY, OR I'LL SHOOT ON SIGHT!
Pinkie hopped off the table, droped her scalpel and grabbed a fearsome machete, ready to protect herself. But in a blink of an eye another two BLAMs, accompanied with dazling flashes, threw her down on the floor, deafened, blinded and totally confused. As soon, as she fell down, six strangely looking ponies - all unicorns with their faces hidden, and cutiemarks covered with dense black fabric patches, which were being held with hip belts, stormed into the room, surrounding Pinkie and pointing some strange metal tools, levitating by their right shoulders, at her.
Rainbow Dash tried to make a sound, somwhow attract their attention, but the world started spinnig and she dropped her head on the frame, fighting hard not to loose conciousness, for she was afraid, that the unicrons will take Pinkie and go back where they came from, leaving her to slowly die of severe pain and bleeding.
Meanwhile the unicorns tied Pinkie up with some sort of rope and made her stand. From the look on Pinkie's face, Dash realised that the party pony behaves like she's just woke up and can't figure out, where is she, and what's going on.
One of the unicons, the one with a sun symbol on his cutiepatch, pulled down his strange iron gadget and stepped closer to tied up Pinkie.
-Pinkie Pie! By the authority of Princess Celestia, I put you under arrest for being suspected in kidnapping, torture and ruthless murder. You have the right to keep silence, yet this will not change anything. Tomorrow Princess Celestia shall decide upon your faith. Take her away!
Two other unicrons put their tools behind their backs, slipped theie hooves through Pinkie's and lead her to the stairway. The unicorn that spoke to Pinky, looked around, and, at last, noticed Dash tied up to the frame, hacked in multiple sides and almost unconsious of pain, shock and bleeding.
The former unicorns severity vanished without a trace - he hopped up to the frame, grabbing Dash's neck for a pulse, at the same time speaking frequently - must be to his companions still in the room.
-Hostage down, pulse 50, wounded badly and bleeding, ned trailors and medic NOW! Over...
None of the other unicrons move, but instead of it, Dash heard a weak sound of someone's talking from under unicorn's thick and, probably, heavy olive vest:
-Copy that, entry team, medic is on its way, trailors incoming. Get the hostage ready for evaq, over...
-Roger that, talk -the unicorn said into air, wawing his hoove to his mates and looking around, searching for something. When the other three came by, he's been already cutting the belts, holding Dash, with Pinkies hacksaw.
Dash felt, that noone ties her to the frame anymore, but along with that, she felt that someone touched the stub her left wing used to be just a minute ago, and the pain has finally knocked her out, leaving the rest to the strange face-and-cutiemark-hiding unicorns. The last thing she saw was a couple of earth-ponies in just the same face masks and cutie-patches, carrying a stretcher, and the world has faded away right after that.
***
Captain Rainbow Dagger had a long and honorable story behind. Five years in Everfree Forest Rangerhoof, ten years on Griffon-Equestrian border. Dragons, hungry forest creatures, wild and reckless griffon teens, merciless human poachers - he's seen and fought them all, protecting his dear and peasful motherland from the danger of the outer lands, which Princess Celestia herself couldn't fully drive away wuth her goddess unicorn magic. "To protect and to serve" - that's what was tatooed around his cutiemark, proudly depicting a sword of shiny silvery steel, crossed with a rainbow, formed to resemble a dagger. 20 years of blameless service, including the last five years as an inner affair sheriff, made him think that nothing violent and ruthless may let any fear in his proud and invincibly brave heart.
But what he was observing during this mission, made him feel totally distorted. A terrible, unprecendented act of torture, and far from being the only one in this cellar, in HIS quiet and peace-shining town of Ponyville! And not on a griffon, or a dragon, or any other fearsome and ugly blood-seeking foreign beast - but on a beatiful rainbow-maned blue pegasus pony! Captain felt that muffled anger has started rising up his throat. Not only the suspect has obviously made some deep cuts in her victim's hide, she did the worst - on a table, standing close by the frame, his operators found a pair of sky-blue fluffy pegasus wings, freshly cut off and stained with, no doubt, victim pegasus's blood. Rainbow Dagger has seen enough wounds in his life to make it clear - no matter, how hardly will the surgeon try to sew the wings back to place, there's no way that pegasus girl could ever normally fly again. To harm the wings of a pegasus! You'd better kill yoursel as soon as you feel you're ready to do such a thing! You may be ready to punch a pegasus, kick a pegasus, shoot a pegasus, at last - but to touch a living pegasus's wings, you have to be absolutely insane disguisting madman.
Captain felt unbearable compassion for the wounded pony. If only they've been sent here twenty minutes earlier! Rinbow Dagger wasn't a bit sentimental, on the contrary, he saw and did enough horrible things to feel calm for blood, fighting and violence. But he always clearly saw a border between war and crime, and the longer he lived and the older he became, themore clearly he understood - what could be done to a foe, may never be applied to a civilian. Besides, his daughter was just around the age of the pegasus pony being held hostage and tortured by the pink monster. A horrible thought, that his girl could get in a situation like that, filled captain Dagger with horror and wrath.
For a moment Rainbow Dagger felt sorry, that he and his crew were too professional to let the suspect of that kind render any meaningful or dnagerous resistance. Creatures like that should be shot on sight, without judjement or investigation, no matter how pinkie and cute they may look from aside. Then the rage slowly passed, leaving place for reasonable comprehension. Years of military service have taught Rainbow Dagger, that ponies are the most loyal, brave and honorable creatures one can possibly meet in the world. So there's no way a pony could normally come to such unbearable condition. Which means - the true criminal, responsible for what was happening in the cellar for an unascertained time, has just lost the first battle, but far from loosing the entire war. That should be determined by tomorrow - Celestia will either execute the pinky butcher, or set her up for some weird magic mental healing. If the pink pony survives Celestia's court and trial, the Captain's work will continue - and go on as long, as neccecary to find the torturer of the blue pegasus pony and bring him to justice - by Celestia's means, or, better, with his own 9X19 human MP5 sub-mashine gun.
***
Doctor Rubber Pill rushed through the hospital corridor, murmuring haste exuses to those he joged along the way, carrying a pegasus topographical anatomy manual in his mouth and having his sthetoscope and blinker levitate above his head. A call from Canterlot found him napping after a long and pretty busy 24-hour shift, so at first he didn't recognize nor the voice of the person calling, neither the demand she claimed politely, but firmly. It was two minutes before he finally woke up enough to realize that the pony, patiently waiting for him to come back to himself, is no one else than the ruler and goddess of everypony in his land - princess Celestia. As soon, as he came to the deal she portrayed, all he's been left to do is grab his coat, his equips and a pegasus throughout anatomy guide, and hurry to the operating room, not thinking about the fact he was officially on a day-off and there was a surgeon on duty, ready to make urgent emergency operations. The young filly was too unexperienced and awkward to operate a pegasus with her wings cut clean off. Honestly, doctor Pill didn't have any idea how HE would glue those wings back where the used to be, without condemning the pegasus to an acute and untreatable pain syndrome - WITHOU letting her fly again the way she flown before the incident, which lead to the trauma. If it wasn't for the princess, he would treat the stumps and let them be as they are now, denying the wounded pegasus an ability to fly, but instead providing her with a painless and thus a longer and happy life, on the ground or walking the white clouds in Cloudsdale.
Doctor Rubber Pill once had a friend of him, a pegasus, who wanted to become a trauma surgeon and, despite of having no horn and thus no medical or telekinetic magic powers, came to a noticeable success in the field. Yet, he had to leave the practice soon after he graduated from the academy - to become a stormy weather "Night Shift" patrol operator somwhere on the Griffon-Equestrian border. Doctor Pill heard stories of him saving ponie's lifes, performing dangerous, sometimes prohbited, but yet sometimes very effective operations. If he was around, he surely would take this complex and unwanted pegasus case. Alas, the black-maned, charcoal hide pegasus was far, far away, in at least 4 hours of subsonic flight from Ponyville, somwhere far from civlization with its telephones and radio trancievers - generically out of reach in time short enough to make it here and save the little flyer pony. Doctor Pill stired up his mane and hastened his steps - the operation was to begin in no more than 5 minutes to be a little bit successful, and he still had to take a shower and get in his operational surgery suite. Thanks Celestia he's not a pegasus, like the long-lost friend of him, and doesn't have to sterilize his mouth cavity!
The corridor made one last right angle turn, and doctor Rubber run into a group of unicorn ponies, dressed in some weird green wests, with some sphisticated metal and plastic tools haging from their backs and firmly mounted saddle bags. Their heads were covered with woolen cloth eye- and mouth-holed masks, of every of them but two - elderly stern-faced pony with a sun symbol on his uniform and...
Doctor Rubber felt like a mountain has fallen down from his back.
-Thunderwing! I thought you're in your border cliffs! You can't imagine, how I'm glad to...
-I can, Rubber Pill. -old friend smiled at him. -We suspected, that such a situation may be a possibility in this mission, so captain took me along with his crew. Captain, this is my friend and finest surgeon ever, Rubber Pills. Rubber, this is captain Rainbow Dagger, the pony between Equestria and all the evil of the borderlands and any other lands behind our borders. He's the one responsible for rescuing your -or our? -patient from a maniac butcher pony.
A surgeon and a captain exchanged a short nod of mutual respect and went each to his work.
-Thunder, this is OUR patient - more than that, it's almost completely YOUR patient, for the main difficulty is that thepatient's wings has been cut clean off.
-Dramatic, as you always were - Thunderwing let himself an irreevant giggle. -Nothing even close to "clean off", there're two fine half-inch leftovers, with neurovascular pipe preserved at both sides, though nerves in her right wing root are damaged, and require something bigger than a razor and a scalpel. I think, wel'' be able to figure out, what exactly, in action. Are you ready?
Doctor Rubber Pill took a deep breath - as expected, it's going to be one wierd, mindless piece of field surgery, with nerves parted from muscles with a razor, dental floss as a tool to clearly disjoin bound vessels and something like rubber glue as intestinal stich material - but, surprisingly, he wasn't shaking from tensin anymore. The bue pegasus girl has just earned one jackpot chance to have her wings back on line.
***
By evening Ponyville finally turned into a likeness of a ruffled anthill. It began at 15.00, after mealtime, when the royal guard fell from the sky right to the town square, quickly and silently dispersing the citizens to their - or anyone's homes, shops and restaraunts, cleaning the streets and setting up blockposts on every crossing, watching vigilantly that noone could get outdoors without permission. Approximately at that time, the sky began to fill up with grey rainy clouds, which soon turned a sunny da into a moist and dank mid-day twilight. In an hour, a wierd group of all-cloth-covered, face-and-cutiemark-is-a-huge-secret ponies rushed through the town to the square, disappearing one by one inside the Baker's bakery shop. They stayed there for a mere 20 minutes, then rushing with the same hurry back where they must have come from, carrying something wrapped up in a bedsheet and, possibly, bucking for freedom - to no effect, unsurprisingly, judging of the face-hidden ponie's quantity and sternness.
Just in two minutes, a chariot, harnessed with two large and mighty royal guards, landed by the Baker's shop, and another group of face-hidden ponies rushed to it from the inside, carrying a stretcher with some pony, bandaged thoroughly, so that was no chance to recognize, who was it, which was quickly loaded in the chariot, and immideately after that the chariot took off and rushed with a speed unbelievable for cumbersome royal guards, west, towards Manehattan. Thet was when it began to drizzle.
In a few hours the rumor spread throughouht darkening and wet-to-the-bone Ponyville - the one carried out in a stretcher was Rainbow Dash, and another, wrapped up in a bedsheet, was Baker's assistant baker, the absent-minded and cheerful Pinkie Pie.
The guards, of course, remained silent, despite unstopping questions, which began to pour down on them from ponyvillians, so soon the town had a number of versons of what actually happened in the Baker's shop.
Twilight Sparkle, howewer, didn't take her part in the discussion, neither did the rest of her closest friends still present in the town. Sitting at the library's hall, they've been reading a note from pricess Celestia for the thousand'th time, still refusing to understand completely, what really happened to Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash.
-Tell me this one more time, for I just don't get it. -Twilight Sparkle pushed the letter aside and stood with her hooves on the table, observing the sheet from their distance. Pinkie Pie for an unknown reason TORTURED Rainbow Dash and numerous other ponies to death or near-death in her cellar?
Twilight Sparkle was just embarrased. Whoever, whatever, but NOT Pinkie Pie TORTURING anyone on purpose, ESPECIALLY with sharp medical instrments. That didn't make any sence at all!
-Girls, I dunno whas goin on 'ere, but i'm sure when I find the bastard who crossed up Pinkie an I swear I'll make his teeth make all the way down his filthy ol' throat! -Applejack, too, couldn't believe Pinkie Pie was some sort of ruthless maniac killer, yet she was already here to kick someone for the thing done to her friends.
-This is so awful I can't totally believe such a thng happened. -Fluttershy, on th other hand, still had a hope, that the princess's letter and the guards on the street is something else, and later it all will have a reasonable explanation to this mess.
-But darling, if that's not it - then where are they now, and why are they not here, their phonies not answering and Rainbow's windows dark and shut close?
Twilight looked up at the sky through the window of the ceiling hatch. Rainbow's cloud castle could be clearly seen from this point - dark, most likely closed and almost certainly - silent and absolutely empty. Wherever Dash was, she surely wasn't sitting at home - particularly because Equestria's Best Flyer won't be delayed by any blockposts and sky patrols Royal Guards had to offer. If Dash was around, she's surely come to the library as soon, as the mess in the town started.
Yet she did not. Princess's letter, whatever it meant, was a trouble for only four ponies to handle.
-Ok, let's make it as clear, as it could be. -Twlight said, hopping her hooves back to the floor. -I'll write Princess Celestia, and she'll tell us what EXACTLY is going on. Spike?
-Ready when you are - Spike drew a quill and stood in his tracks, much more serious than always, even when writing letters to the Princess, his mouth shut, no tongue over his lips, his eyes fixed on the scroll.
-"Dear Princess Celestia! I've recieved a letter, claimed to be sent by you, which says that my friend, Pinkie Pie, has slayed my other friend, Rainbow Dash, in her bakery' cellar. Though I can't believe such a thing did really happen, we've got a full town of royal guards patrolling the streets and a martial law, so I thought you should be informed of the strange letter immideately. Your faithful student, Twilight sparkle." Send it.
Spike took a deep breath and blown flame on the scroll, which turned into a green-purple cloud of smoke and flown outside through an ajar window.
-Why didn't you ask her, what's going on? -Rarity asked with irritation.
-That's not smart to ask the person in charge any questions when something big's going on. -answered Twilight, approaching the window and looking up in the grey, almost stormy sky.
Spike hiccuped and spew out a letter.
-Read it! -the four ponies in one hop approached him, struggling not to pull out the scrol from his claws - any, at the same time, shaking of fear to know what princess Celestia is saying.
-Ahem. -Spike cleaned his throat. -"My faithful student and all of your friends! Unfortunately, the letter you received from me was a honest truth. Happily, your friend Rainbow Dash is alive, and Pinkie Pie has been captured by my finest guard's ponies with no harm done to her - at least, she's not worse then she was when doing what she has possible done.
I ask you and some of your friends come to Manehattan's central hospital, when Rainbow Dash is now, receiving treatment from wounds she obtained. Don't worry, I have two best surgeons in Equestria operate on her, yet there may be something you'd be neccecary for. I ask you not to think of the reasons of what happened anymore, for time for this is not now, but yet to come, when Rainbow Dash is out of any actual danger. I'm sending a chariot, that will arrive and make it to Manehattan with you in no time.
Please, hold on. I promise, whatever is the reason, I will find out and do what I can to save everypony under my responsibility.
And be on your guard. Whatever's happening, it may not be over by now."
-Wha' in all of Equestria that gotta mean? -Applejack stared at the scroll with misunderstanding and total confusion. -They've Pinkie siezed and Dash in a hospital? And Celestia's tellin' us nothin' of wha' the crap's goin on over 'ere?
-Whatever it is, she says we should forget the reason and think of how we may help Rainbow Dash, so I think we shall calm down and... Yes, there it is.
A noise of a landing carriage and a loud cnock at the door informed them, that the chariot has arrived and waiting outside. Twilight blew up the candle on a table and turned to Spike.
-Spike, we're going to the hospital to see how Dash is. You stay here in case...
-Twilight, I want to go with you. Dash is wounded, I don't want to sit here whle she's there, waiting for her friends to come and cheer her up.
On the words "cheer her up" Twilight's face twitched.
-Don't worry, Spike. She'll be fine, I'm sure of it.
-You didn't see her. -the serious look on a dragon's face was making Twilight even more uncomfortable, yet she thought there was no way there could be any more. -How can you tell, what will be. Besides, what if Celestia writes a letter? I won't be able to tell you, if you'll be in Manehattan and I'm here, in Ponyville.
-Ok. -Twiligh surrendered, for it was no time, and no actual reason, and no wish to continue wrangling with clearly very worried and scared Spike. -But promise you'll do anything I say, good?
-Ok. But you're afraid I see something scary, it's not the thing you should think about.
-I think of what I think I should. -Twilight snapped out. -If you're with us, turn off the light and get to the chariot.
The ponies, followed by a baby dragon, turning the swithces as they moved through the library, went outside, under the sparce nasty minute rain and quickly hopped into a covered chariot, which rushed from steady, gaining altitude, and quickly disappeared in darkening foggy grey evening sky.
***
While Thunderwing brushed his teeth, Doctor Pills made it to the operation table, when their patient was already treatened with iodine, her wounds cleaned and prepared for surgical fix-up by the young surgeon on-duty, who left the operation room right before Rubber Pills and Thunderwing went in, wishing them good uck and looking at them with a mix of pity and respect - from his point, the blue pony was a 100% goner, still not gone only thanks to resuscitation devices constantly blowing through her lungs and keeping her heart beating. The elder colleagues, he thought, were like ancient heroes, ready to fight death inavoidable - and sure to succeed, so calm and concentrated they were, entering the dressing room of the operation block.
The pony's chest was intact at the front, but at the sides it was a mess of torn hide, slashed muscles and wing bones sticking up from two red messy laserations.
The abdomen looked much worse. Doctor Pills could swear her peritoneum is swarming with patogenous outer atmosphere bacteria, making ground for the most threatening complication. If the intestines were also damaged, this complication - peritonitis - will become an almost 100% possibility, that the patient will suffer greatly and very likely die, despite of all the energies put by three doctors to save her.
But a quick revision displayed, that the intestines, the stomach and the gall-bladder vere intact, fortunately, as, mostlikely. vere the kidneys. The liver and the spleen, however, were a painful site - a piece of liver almost cut off, hanging on a narrow stripe of tendon, the spleen cut into two, both bleeding despite of the blood-stopping sponge. The bloodlost from the spleen was more intense, so doctor Pills started with its ablation, planning to move on to sewing the liver back together.
Tying up vessels, cutting ligaments and sewing together the slashed structures, he got so carried away by the work, he didn't notice his friend and colleague wathcing him closely. At last, the final stitch was finished and Rubber Pills drew himself up with a moan, his neck aching of more than 24-hours persistent annoying tension. Thunderwing smiled at him with understanding.
-If there's nothing acute in the abdomen, I'd like to take care of these wings, before it's too late to reattach them and make them work as good, as normal. It will take a few hours, you may go have some rest until I'm done with it. Or, you know what? If there's nothing else but the wings and peritoneal drainage, I could do everything myself, and you go to the lounge and take a nap? I'll wake you up when some authorities come to check the treatment progress. So, what do you say?
-Thanks, Thunder -Rubber Pills smiled back tiredly -but if you have no objections, I'd ike to stay and take a look at how you're going to fix it - her wings, especially innervation. I still can't figure out, how can an operation like this be possible.
-No problem, Rub. -Thunderwing smiled more wide and insolently. -Watch and learn - this is how we do it on the Griffon-Equestrian Restless Border.
Saying that, he took one of the wings from the bag filed with lump ice and started to spin it, examining and murmuring to himself:
-eminentia ulnaris anterior... eminentia ulnaris anter... Where the hell is this thing.
Doctor Pills poked him an atlas, not saying a word. Thunderwing took it, without tearing himself away from looking at the wing's flexion, opened it blindly and threw a few quick looks in it.
-Oh, what am I doing! It's the wing, not her leg! Now, let's see... Sulcus ligamentis flexoris alae brevis...
-You remeber all of the academy Latin? -Rubber Pill asked in bewilderment.
-I have to. -Thunderwing shroge his shoulders, looking at the wing and touching it lightly with his extremely sensitive hoofbase. -besides, you remeber things you have to use really often, and every conflict around the border ends up in tons of ponie's limbs torn away, so I just have to remeber the formations, that serve me as landmarks when I sew it all back to the patient. All right, that's the right wing! But I need the other one first.
The left wing should have been damaged less badly, and thus could be reattached in a lot easier way, then the opposite one. Rubber Pill wathced his friend take the wing and start cleaning the section, parting the vessels and two thick nerves - one responsible for sense of touch and joint position sense, and other, a bit thinner, for thin and narrow feather-bone muscles.
To clean the ruptures of each nerve, Thunderwing used a disposable shaving razor. As soon, as he prepared everything to reconnection, he called Rubber Pill to help, and together they appeared to need only half an hour to properly connect every thng, from bone, nailed with a sterile titanium spoke and a plate and a pair of surgical screws, to the last tiny arterial branchy, including all muscles, tendons, skin and membranes. The joint, fortunately, appeared to be 100% intact, not even swollen of contusion.
The right wing was much more into magic. Thunderwing found a sensitive branch of the nerve and swore through clenched teeth.
-That's exactly what I hate the most. Look, the nerve has been shoved under the muscle shred. Now, no matter how much I try, I'll have to take out this shred, and sew the rest with the other rupture, creating a tension in the muscle. And we can't wait till the muscle regenerates itself, for he muscle in the wing is not supplied with blood on distant levels and will simply die, lving her without a functional wings and us-with a necrosis we'l have to handle.
-And what's stopping us from tearing off this shred, moving the nerve aside and that sewing it back where it was? It will, of course, give us an additional stich, but that, with precaution from paunch growing into a ligament, is better, than a muscle more short than needed.
-I wish we coul do that, Rubber, but look - as soon, as I slash the shred, I'll unavodably damage a flexion the nerve forms down there, thus loosing almost a centimeter of it. A nerve more short than needed, unlike too short muscle, is critical. Muscle can, at least, be slowly and carefully stretched - means lots of exersise for the patient, but nothing impossible, and the unconnected nerve will lead us to a stationary wing as good, as absent.
-Sooo... And what are we going to do?
-You'll see. -Thunderwing smiled sinisterly. -But before I show you, I need some gall.
For half an hour, doctor Pill have been amazedly watching a dissolution of a shred of a muscle with patient's own gall, extracted from gall-bladder by a syringe, and then-the cleaning of a nerve from gall by solution of stomach acid, washing it with isotonical solution and reconnection of a damaged nervous branch with a tendon-based microcell organical net (they needed Rubber Pill's unicorn powers to make the net, and Thunderbird only needed 5 minutes to thoroughly describe, what exactly he wants this net to be).
In the end, both wings were in place - bone nailed and plated, nerves set up on a frame made from the organical net, vessels, muscles, memranes and edges of the hide sewn together. The last thing to do was to put both wings in a plaster casts to avoid further damage before the bones knit.
Doctor Rubber Pills straightened his tired achy neck, crunched with his spine, made sure that all installed drainages are working correctly and reached out Thunderwing's hoof.
-Man, you can't imagine how glad I am you came here to save this little filly. I'd never have neither courage, nor the skill to reattach her wings as smoothly and anatomically, as you did.
-We'll see, how anatomical it is, whe she wakes up and tells she can fear us pulling her feathers or squeezing the wing's tip -answered Thunderwing gloomly, clopping upon a friend's hoof. Are you done with drainages?
-Absolutely. Want some tea?
-Want some dinner. They pulled me out right before lunchtime, and my lunch remained on the post. And now I'm hungry like a dragon.
-Hey. -Rubber Pill smiled -welcome to Manehattan! Want a pizza? A sushi? An order from a restaraunt across the street? Here it's absolutely not the problem, and I've got enough money to feed my friend, who just save a pony's life and wings of a pegasus, with whatever he likes. So, what do you want?
-I'd like some beer, but I guess that's not the last adventure for today, so I'd better stay sober. A pizza, you say? And what's a sushi? May I have both to compare?
-Ab-so-lute-ly, anything you'd like. - Rubber Pills grabbed his friend and pulled him out of the operation room. In the doors, he turned back to make the last check on the patient. The blue pony was lying motionless, wired with tubes, conductors and covered up in bandages. The look on her once cunning face was mournful.
-Don't worry, pony -he whispered -doctors Pill and Thunderwing will do anything, just to see you stand up, and fly, and smile ever again. And now, have some rest, there's still a little bit of work ahead of you.
Silently, he went out, closing the door and leaving the blue pony alone with the mechanisms maintaining her breath and monitoring her vitals.
***