[Sandy - Keeping with the theme of lousy sense of timing]

Now that the business with Smoothie was done in its time bubble, Sandy returned to tracking down the foals. His next guess had to be the Clunker, but a hasty look inside turned up nothing. As he searched the wagon, he noticed the mussed-up bedsheets. Check with a hoof and...bingo; they were warm. They had been here, and not too long ago by the looks of things. If he hurried, maybe he could find them before...

*CRASH!*

...something happened.

Sandy sprinted towards the sound of the cartnage, momentarily freezing when he saw the massive pile of wrecked carts.

Wait...pile of wrecked carts...foals nowhere to be seen...oh horseapples, no!

He dove into the pile, frantically digging through the wreckage with hoof and horn. His magic flared as debris was tossed aside and carts held up with pillars of sand. The other ponies who had arrived on the scene started a makeshift assembly line, dragging the bits of cart he unearthed away. He kept at it, calling out, "Silverpine! Gear! Just hold on, I'm a-comin'!"

Naturally, the two foals in question emerged from the bar a few seconds later, perfectly unscathed.