A breath across his neck.  
 
Spike whipped his head around. Icy blue eyes glimmered back. Somepony was standing behind him—somepony wearing a hood.  
 
“WAAAUGH!”  
 
Spike landed in a painful heap. His tail bunched up under his hind end. The echoes bounced off the stone and crystal walls, but he didn’t care. He screwed up his eyes, shutting them tight. Trembling, the messenger bag carrying the accursed artifact slipped from his sweaty claws. His breathing came out in chaotic, audible gasps.  
 
Spike, the World’s Bravest DragonKnight, had been vanquished.  
 
“Please! I-I-I’m sorry, Mom! Take it back—just don’t shoot me or zap me with your electricity…or run me over with Evy Junior!”  
 
Seconds seemed like hours. Sentences gave way to wordless whimpers.  
 
“Mom?” The hooded pony trotted over to Spike, using a hoof to pull him back to his feet. Her high-pitched, bubbly voice seemed to brighten the room just a little. “And what’s an Evy? Geeze!”  
 
She brushed the hood backward and shook her head. A curly, neon pink mane poofed out, freed from its cage. Spike could’ve sworn he saw bits of confetti coming out of Pinkie Pie’s mane as she glanced aside, giggled to herself, then looked back at Spike.  
 
“And you guys say I’m random.”  
 
Spike’s shoulders sagged as he tried to calm down his breathing. “Pinkie? What in Celestia’s name are you doing sneaking up on me in a hooded robe? You shortened my life by like a thousand years!”  
 
Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Well, duh! It’s cold in the castle at night! Do I look like I want to be turned into a frosty-freezy Pinkie? Ice cream is already cold enough!”