A griffin swooped overhead, strafing at me with a submachine gun. I changed course, hoping I wasn’t being corralled.

I was. The path in front of me dead-ended at the wrought iron fence that surrounded the amusement park. They had maneuvered me into a trap.

At least, that was their intention. As I galloped past an overturned confectionary stand (“Pinkie Pie’s Pink Pies!”) I magically scooped up a dozen scattered pie tins, floating them ahead of me. I levitated them each higher than the last, forming stepping stairs. Wrapping myself with a levitation field to virtually negate my own weight, I ran up the stairway of pie tins and leapt over the fence.