It Came From Black Friday

Equestria is covered in flames.

Winged demon monsters dive low, sweeping screaming equines to their foul-smelling doom.

Blood dribbles from rivers and estuaries and oceans drowning in muscular red pulp.

In the streets of Ponyville, a ring of ponies have gathered around an overturned soda machine covered in flickering candles. Chanting something into the dust rising from a painted ring of ash, the ponies pull out serrated daggers, aim them at their navels, and swiftly disembowel themselves. As they start gurgling own blood, shaved stallions and mares stand behind them wearing black shawls and unload revolver bullets into the eviscerate ponies skulls.

As misty red blood rises up into the swirling hellish maelstrom above, Princess Celestia hovers from up high. The flesh in her neck rips apart as a second mouth grows, brimming with succubus teeth. She holds in two hooves--bleeding at the fetlocks--an ice cold can of Ginger Ale.

"The Drying Becomes ussssss!" She slithers, her eyes bleeding pus and bubbling red fluid. "The Drying Becomes ussss allllll!"

Legions of ponies march up, bow an empty can of Ginger Ale beneath her, and proceed to crack each other's necks in a daisy chain of death. In the distance, Princess Luna raises the moon, coats it blood red, and sails it into the screaming ocean beyond.

All is one howl of orgasmic terror and joy.

"Canadaaaaaaa!" Children laugh. Goats bleat. Chalkboards are scratched. "Canadaaaaaaaa!"

The moon lands. Fire consumes. All is one with the smoke.