It was a sunny day at the Wonderbolt Academy. Of course, being above the cloud layer meant it was always sunny, as despite their appearance, there was actually somepony intelligent in the Equestrian Defence Force who knew that clear conditions were perfect for flight, but they were most likely a human expert the ponies quietly kidnapped from their car at night, the four legged bastards.
However, Soarin was not outside getting Vitamin D like a perfect pony pilot. Instead, he was hiding in his closet, like a bloody coward.
“Soarin...” an all-too familiar voice moaned. “Come out, I want to talk to you...”
“Leave me alone, she-devil!” Soarin screeched in a fearful high-pitched voice which sounded hilarious. “I don’t want to fuck you!”
“But I wasn’t asking,” Rainbow Dash threatened. Enough was enough for Soarin. Ever since Rainbow Dash returned from her quest in the United States, she had been flipping through life without a purpose, until she laid eyes on the elite captain. The way she saw it, if she could not fill the hole in her soul with tacos and drugs, she would fill it with Soarin. Sadly, the Element of Loyalty also leant itself to extreme jealousy. As a result, Rainbow Dash had grown more criminally insane when she noticed Soarin checking out Spitfire in the showers, as every stallion with a functioning penis was prone to do. Hell, even mares did it. Even gay stallions and straight mares did. Especially gay stallions and straight mares. I’ve caught myself doing it. You’ve done it. It’s normal. Let’s move on.
“Fuck off, Dash!” Soarin yelled. He wondered if it was worth it to simply have really disappointing sex with the mare instead, just to get her off her back. But he decided he had too much pride to be disappointing in bed, even if he meant it.
“I’ll be back...” Dash whispered, closing the door of Soarin’s room. After the smell of terror piss and tears became too much for him to handle, Soarin rolled out of the closet, like a chronically depressed blobfish whose wife had left him.
He had to escape. But where? Equestria was no longer safe. Russia was too cold. Australia was quite literally Hell after the incident with Kefka and a ton of laughing gas. Canada was too close to France, and Soarin would never be able to speak Japanese.
There was only one place he could go to now.
The White House, also known as the Fortress of Steam. The safest place in the universe - a flying fortress guarded by a swarm of F-22 fighters and a fleet of airships. Home to an array of railguns designed to shoot down asteroids. Home of Acting President Bro Strider, the human badass straight out of Hel. In short, the ultimate weapon. The ultimate defensive structure. The coolest thing America had built since the Detroit Paintball Arena.
And the one place on Earth where Soarin could escape Rainbow Dash.
He turned around towards his desk. He sat down and picked up a pen with his mouth.
Dear President Strider,
Help, I am an Equestrian Air Force pegasi. A crazy mare is trying to have sex with me despite the fact that I find her to be a 5/10 at best. Please, as the Broest of Bros, surely you can find it within your crazy awesome ninja heart to take in my lost soul, as I do not wish to stick my dick in crazy. As a result, I formally request sanctuary within your Fortress of Steam. In return for this boon, I offer my lifting gear and a Celine Dion album. Please use Line 4 of Cloudsdale AFB to contact me if you wish.
Regards,
Captain Soarin, Wonderbolts Squadron 666, Equestria Air Defence Force.
Soarin put the letter into his flight suit pocket. He advanced slowly towards the window, before pushing it open and taking flight towards the post office. He hoped that Rainbow Dash would not notice. As he flew downwards on a shallow angle towards the town of Ponyville, he considered his life.
It was rather boring, all things considered.
“Tally ho, wot wot!” the RAF pilot yelled, wiping his goggles off with his jacket’s sleeve. “Let’s destroy the Fortress of Steam and drown these federal rebels in PG Tips!”
The three curiously out of date biplanes broke formation, flying towards the giant fleet of steam-powered airships, the sky growing darker as all twenty airships, surrounding a floating island covered in AA guns approached. Atop the island, the White House sat, steam pipes adorning various areas and a Metal Gear RAY guarding the front. In the bowels of the island, the glorious underground aircraft hangar was clearly visible as an F-22A Raptor came in for landing and refueling. The American flag flew proudly from every airship, all named after America’s greatest presidents, and armed with weapons that would make even the biggest redneck shit himself. This was Air Force One’s replacement - Air Force Zero. The Fortress of Steam. The crowning jewel of freedom.
Inside the Oval Office, a radar screen pinged. A tall man adjusted his baseball cap and pointy anime glasses and leaned forwards in the Presidential Leather Chair. He pressed a single button on his desk - The only button on the desk, in fact.
“Chrissie, there’s three bogeys approaching,” President Strider stated, sounding bored with this event. “Fire Stonehenge.”
Eight massive guns surrounding the White House turned towards the biplanes, before firing eight artillery shells. All eight shells broke the sound barrier as they headed for their targets.
“Incoming from Stonehenge!” the lead plane called out over his propeller. “Do we drop to below two thousand feet or ascend to five thousand feet?”
“I don’t know!” his wingman announced. “Impact!”
The three biplanes disappeared in a giant explosion from Stonehenge’s anti-asteroid railguns. Yet another three kills on their already massive resume.
“Hey, Strider. The bogeys went down.” Queen Chrysalis replied over the intercom. “Stupid bastards keep forgetting that this fortress is invincible.”
“You’re goddamn right,” Bro Strider responded, standing up and looking out of the window. “Keep on current course.”
The ninja president adjusted his Presidential T-Shirt as he pressed a button on his iPhone to call a friend of his. There was a call tone, before the sound of gunfire filled his ear.
“Mr. Wilson?”
“Mr. President!” Michael Wilson laughed, holding the phone to Metal Wolf’s side. “How is the Fortress of Steam?”
“It’s running well, thank you,” Bro Strider replied, sitting at the large desk, most of it covered in anime figurines. “I mean, shit, you told me a year ago that I’ll be sitting pretty in a flying airship fortress with a hot changeling babe, and I’d have made that my mission in life. I feel empty, man. My life is at it’s peak.”
“Strider, what did our mutual friend Kamina teach us?”
“You’re right. Do the impossible.”
“See the invisible?”
“Row row! Fight da power!” Bro Strider declared, echoing his inauguration speech, which was considered the best speech ever, as the sheer force of Bro Strider’s manliness caused every female reporter to fall pregnant. The ninja jumped onto his desk and accidentally kicked a pink-haired figurine off. “Shit, I broke my fuckin’ Miyuki figure.”
“Alright, I will leave you to repair her,” Metal Wolf responded. “Until next time, Mr. President! Keep the White House warm for me!”
The line went dead as Bro Strider put his iPhone back into his pocket. He picked up the Miyuki figure from the floor and reattached her arm, before putting her back in her original spot.
He reclined in his chair and relaxed. The life of being President of the United States was really awesome.
Author's Note
Oh boy, here we go again.
