Those Dreary Old MorningsView OnlineScrewed UpThose Dreary Old MorningsAh, mornings. I never was a morning person. Nobody in my family is. That is, unless something interesting, annoying, or sufficiently important rouses us. In which case said "thing" better be prepared to give us five minutes. This morning, just such a thing happened. Sans five minute warning period. I woke up with a start. I can't remember the nightmare I was having, but it must've been pretty intense, because my heart was RACING. Following that ... experience, I did my routine morning self inspection. Make sure I was 3 things: 1) Awake, 2) Me, and 3) Normal. My paranoia is PERFECTLY RATIONAL. I passed the spot-check up until phase two, when I noticed a very pertinent fact. My hands appear to be missing. Yep, gone. Replaced with... magenta stubs. Or is it magenta?, the only light in the room is that of my lava lamp, and it glows so green you'd think someone went and put uranium in my room. Before you correct me, yes, I am aware that Cerenkov light from radioactive decay is blue, not green... Sorry about that, a nerd is me. Anyway, I try to keep up to date on local, world, and national events, in that order, by importance. I watched a news report on this thing. Bronies turning into ponies, the week lasts all year, and the world is caving in on itself. Okay maybe not that last one, but you never know. Among those facts I only cared about one: bronies turning into ponies. I am a brony,(sort of) and I have turned into a pony. Great. This is the part of the story where I have to learn how to walk again right? Yeah. Well, I seem to be having trouble getting out of bed. On top of that, I have the worst sinking feeling imaginable. It's like somebody telling you you're about to get hit by a car, then moments later, a car flies right past you. Kinda like Final Destination, only in this case, I'm not fighting for my life. You may have noticed that I am remaining very calm in the face of a very strange and potentially disastrous situation. That's because I have a plan for everything. Zombie apocalypse, break-in, Godzilla? Yes, yes, and almost. There is one thing that worried me a little though: I woke up really jittery. Normally, I come down really quickly from nightmares, but this one had me REALLY shaken, even though I had no idea what happened in it. Just more evidence that I'm cuckoo for cocoa puffs. I've had a theory for a while now that I am slowly losing my mind, and that feeling right there is just another knot in the proverbial strait jacket. I still have to figure out who I am. Literally speaking of course, as in which pony I turned into. I figured an innocent enough background pony. I was wrong. I got upstairs ( thank heavens I woke up first.) and looked in the mirror in my dad's photography studio. Deep violet mane with white streaks, all curly, wavy and crazy, and eyes like those old things hypnotists used to use to put you under. you know, the spirally things. Anyway, if that wasn't a red flag, I checked the...Come on, do I really have to say it?... Okay, here goes. I checked my...flank (Can NOT believe I just said that.) and almost passed out. A baseball and a Flathead screw. Ball. Screw. Screwball. This'll be fun to explain. If you're wondering how I got up the stairs, I basically crawled all the way down the hall, up the stairs, and THEN figured out how to stand up. Priorities! On the plus side, I can talk really really fast now. Like the guy from all those prescription drug commercials that lists off the side-effects, only female and really really excited. Also, replace drug side-effects with my sorry attempt at assessing the situation: "okaysoiturnedintoscrewballwhosoundsbasicallylikeiexpectedhertoexceptshe'sabletotalksofastthatican'tunderstandasinglewordi'msayingrightnowwhatisthatsmellissomebodymakingwaffles?" For those of you who can't read one word sentences, here's the nitty gritty. Someone else is awake and making waffles. Fantastic. WAIT. Breakfast...I can't eat bacon... NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I'd sooner give up sunlight than bacon! This is inhumane! Unjust! Unfair! "THIS SUCKS." I said aloud for everyone to hear. Of course, came the part where I accidentally woke up ... seriously who's making waffles? Go find out for yourself, buddy. I'm really worried that when I open this door there's going to be trouble. Monsters, Psycho-killers, My ex girlfriend [badum-tsh], this list goes ON. Basically, I was terrified to open that door' leading into the kitchen, to find out who was making waffles. I gathered up what little gumption I had, and flung the door open. It's just good old Discord. Mystery sol- wait WHA?! YAY! "Oh I hope you don't mind me getting some breakfast ready. Of course you don't, you're probably hungry." He wasn't wrong. "I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and say you're responsible for the bronies, the calendar, and", gesturing a hoof to myself (I'm never gonna get used to saying that) "all this." I looked up, and he was gone. Then he appeared behind me and almost gave me a heart attack. "Of course I am, but I have a special job for you." [eep!] Ever wondered what pure terror sounds like? That was it right there."I need you to keep my little girl safe and happy, and I'm just the littlest bit too busy wreaking chaos to keep an eye on her." (insert audible gulp here) "What." "Entertained of course." He sounded disappointed, sorta like he expected me to know what he meant, but he wasn't angry. good thing too, I imagine I'd know if he was angry "How?" "Just do what comes naturally." Author's Note Note: I edited this chapter to not suck. I'll be doing a lot of that. Enjoy.
On The Road Again For The First TimeView OnlineScrewed UpOn The Road Again For The First TimeThe room fell silent, save for the rain outside (it's Washington, whaddaya gonna do?), and the sizzling of pancakes on a hot griddle. Or, knowing Discord, a cold griddle. It took me a few seconds to realize why. "What does that mean?" Welp, I'm doomed. "Why, whatever do you mean?" Okay, smart guy. Do you think you can fool me with that Mr.nice draconequus routine? Well you're wrong. "I mean, you ju- nevermind." This conversation is getting more and more pointless by the second."Why are you doing this? What great and malevolent impulse propelled you to make such an irrational decision?" This babysitter got BITE. Note to self: do not think for more than three continuous seconds. "hmhmhmhmhm, do I really need a reason?" His gaze shifted toward me. "It's my job." "Well, pal, your 'job' is putting a lot of innocent people in danger!" You can't say I'm wrong about that. "Please calm down, you'll wake the neighborhood. [insert loud evil laugh here]" hypocrite. "Idon'tcareifIwakeeverybodyonthiswholegodforsakenearthIwantsomeanswersbubandifyou'renotgonnagiveittomestraightthenI'mgonnahaveto make you talk!" I sound like I was just in an Espresso drinking contest. I am really flipping my shit here and if I don't get some answers soon then I just might hurt someone. That'd be a first. Donny "scrappy" Maxwell actually winning a fight. I'm pushing my luck as it is, but the scrap is gonna get his butt royally kicked if he pushes even one more button. "There's my little firecracker! Now keep her safe or I'll pull you out of there faster than you can say-" *CRASH* There goes every window in my house. Time to run before somebody important shows up and sees me like this. I booked it out the door faster than Roadrunner, and even meepmeeped to boot. Don't know why, guess just 'cause it was funny. (Well, it was.) You could say I more ran clean through the door than out of it. blew it clean off of the hinges too. AND IT WAS AWESOME Exactly. Wait, who said that? Who else? Is that...Me? No, it's ME. The proud owner of . this body, and you are? Author's Note EDITED ALSO. NOT TOO HARD.
Run Like TartarusView OnlineScrewed UpRun Like TartarusI never ran so much in my natural life. To say the least, it was terrifying. 'Nuff said. With that in mind, I ran awkwardly down the road, head pounding, thoughts swirling, and stomach churning. In that moment my brain decided to play some Pink Floyd. "Run Like Hell" was a great song, and it fit the situation. Not to mention it really kicked my ass into gear. I figured out that I'm left dominant now. In addition, I have some sort of unhealthy obsession with potatoes. No idea what that's about, maybe it's a fad, or a phase. Whatever it is, it's weird. I could really use an effing snickers right now. I kid you not, I have a hankering for some serious chocolaty goodness. Maybe even a chocolate covered potato... No! stop letting your mind drift boy! Remember: three second limit! whatcha talkin' about? "who said that?!!?" I said, not losing pace. My name's Screwball, but everypony just calls me Weirdo. I dunno why, kind of a dumb name really, but that's what everypony says. "ooooooooooooooookaaayyyyyyyyyyy.... WHAT?!?!?!?" This is getting ridiculous. First I transform into a mare, now she's in my -or am I in her- head. (insert deadpan comment here.) I guess Discord wasn't kidding. I actually have to watch his kid for him. In more ways than one. I'm not even good at watching HUMAN kids, what made him think I could take care of- Lemme stop you right there "what?" I can take care of myself, bub. You're supposed to keep me entertained. You're not a foal-sitter, you're a traveling companion. A really fun one too! "Interesting way to look at it." Also, you don't need to talk out loud. Just think at me. It's practically the same thing, and you don't look like a crazy pony. "Because I don't already look like a crazy pony!" HEY. I'm not crazy, I'm eccentric. "you do know that eccentric basically means foreign and crazy, right?" Oh, in that case I guess I am crazy! (whatever jumble of letters constitutes a raspberry)! "whatev-" >SMACK< Pain, and then darkness. Lots of darkness, with some intermittent pain here and there. Author's Note EDIT AGAIN p.s. you'll notice I'm going through and removing any trace of slenderman. it was a dumb Idea, and I'm just now realizing this.
To Get Knocked Out, Perchance, To Dream.View OnlineScrewed UpTo Get Knocked Out, Perchance, To Dream."OW!" That... hold on a tic. "Wait." I sound normal... too normal. "Am I unconscious?" Must've hit a tree or a telephone pole or something. "Yeah." Okay, who said that? It's dark and I can't see. "Hello?" The lights came on. Everything looks normal, I'M back to normal, this must have been one long dream. That is, save for the fact that I felt that pole/tree/mailbox hit me square in the face. Then there's the fact that I never remember any of my dreams. I'm also in a field divided in half by an enormous glass wall. Should have mentioned that first. Priorities. Where to then? "You talk to yourself sometimes too?" "Only when I-WAIT WHERE ARE YOU?" She's everywhere and nowhere! "You should look up more." Dare I? Oh, I dare. I look up and see Screwball (well, that tears it. it wasn't a dream.)walking up the enormous wall between us. "How are you doing that?" Seriously, I can't be the only one wondering this. "However I want, it's a dream." "I always thought that you just blacked out when you got knocked unconscious." "Apparently not." She hops down off the wall. "So, What brings you to this lovely field on this fine day. wait..." Just then, it begins raining shredded cheese only on her side of the wall."Now it's a fine day." "I don't know, I hit... like a tree or something... and just kinda woke up here." I think about how much it would suck if it started raining. Speak of the devil..."Fantastic." "Hey (or hay, i dunno), why is yours just boring old rain?" "I guess I'm just not that creative." The raindrops hitting my head were annoying to say the least, but, being a dream, I didn't feel cold or anything. Just hopeless. What would my parents say? My friends? My sister? My dad'll never let me hear the end of this. As for the others... they'll probably call me a nerd. Or gay. Given the town I live in, probably the latter. I'm... no, that's too easy. I'm outta luck. There, that works. "I have Two VERY important things I need to tell you. First, get used to having me around, 'cause from here we only get closer. Second, I don't think he can turn it off so wat- Something in my mouth. Pillow. Not my pillow. Whose car is this? Where are we going? Who's driving? Oh, no. NOT YOU! Author's Note JUUUUUST MINOR THTUFF HERE.
Irrational Fears, Irrational SolutionsView OnlineScrewed UpIrrational Fears, Irrational Solutions"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" would you calm down?! "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I SAID CALM DOWN! "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....." Good, now- "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" gentle metaphysical face-hoof< "ARLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" She's nothing to be afraid of. "WHAT!?!? HAVE YOU NO SENSE OF SELF PRESERVATION?!?!THAT IS MY FREAKING EVIL EX GIRLFRIEND! DRIVING A CAR! WITH M... wait... US IN IT!" She's only scary because you're afraid. "WH- wait, actually that does make sense. However, I don't care, because I AM AFRAID!" Then stop. "BUT THIS IS ARLEEN WE'RE TALKING ABOUT! SHE'S GONNA KIIIIIILL MEEEE!" Hey, you imagined her, you need to unimagine her. "I what?" Unimagine her. She's your irrational fear. Just tell yourself she isn't there, and she won't be. "That only works in dreams.THIS. IS. REEEAAAAAAAAL!" Only because you imagine it that way. Remember who our ol' man is. I-you-we inherited more than just his decorating skills. "So... you can warp time an-" Nope, just space. Not even Discord can mess with time. "what do you mean?" Time is one of those things that's just kinda fixed. Depressing, but sadly true. NOW CALM DOWN. "Okay." I just relaxed, focused on her not being there, and she wasn't. I suspect we're getting-WHO'S DRIVING?! CRASH<< Author's Note Short sweet and- OOH SHINY! ... OW! it was a thumbtack!-to the point. And not improbably badly written.
Must've Taken A Wrong Turn At AlbuquerqueView OnlineScrewed UpMust've Taken A Wrong Turn At Albuquerque"OW"! OUCH! "I officially HATE cars." Agreed. The sun was uncomfortably aimed right into my eyes through the side window (or what was left of it) and from what I could tell the car was on its side. There was a pain like no other shooting through my... foreleg... never gonna get used to that, and it appears to have become trapped underneath a part of the car, which I'm somehow only now noticing is a DeLorean. "COOL! I just crashed the car they used in back to the future!" YEOUCH! right, my... foreleg... seriously, when does saying that get easy? Eventually the two of us are gonna get slammed together like two semi-trucks fully loaded with IKEA furniture crashing head-on at 50 miles an hour. "WHAT." Yep. Get comfy, it only gets funner from here. "What part of this is FUN?" Well, look at it like an adventure, only you're slowly becoming someone else. "You're describing a B-rated psychological horror flick, not an adventure." Well, excuse me. You, know, it takes that mo- OW!- ment of crippling realization to finally see when you're- HEY. I was gonna say doomed. Oh, that's okay then. -doomed, and in that, and only that moment, do you see the way out. My way out was warping reality. The problem is it seems to accelerate the fusion process, so I'll need to use this power I've been granted sparingly, or risk getting pressed together with another consciousness like two conflicting sandwich toppings. Also, apparently I don't need to speak out loud to communicate with my mental roommate, just think out loud. Makes sense. I'd better get started, -Screwball, can you turn this car into something easy to escape from?- OOH, how about bubbles!? OOH OOH, or PACKING PEANUTS!? Let's go with the packing peanuts. YIPPEE!, OVER THE RIVER AND PAST THE GUMS, LOOK OUT PHYSICS, ENEMY PLANE ON YOUR SIX! I'm not even gonna try to decipher that sentence. With that, the car collapsed in a flurry of Styrofoam pellets shaped like the letter, I mean number 8. The letter 8? Where'd that come from? Now, I'm worried. What if I'm one stray thought away from being spliced with Screwball? I need to be more careful, or the mission might be in jeopardy. Wait, what? What mission? Oh, no. Would you calm down? You're going to get a worrywart. Those, at least the one on the lady's face from that show with the squirrel kid, are not pretty Heh, Nobody but me seems to remember the cartoon Squirrel boy, it's nice to get some recognition. It wasn't the best, or the worst, but I mean c'mon it EXISTED. You know, a lot of cartoons disappeared off of the face of the earth after they got cancelled. It's disappointing. I hope that doesn't happen too much more, or we're ALL in trouble. Speaking of which, I managed to climb my way to the surface of the pile of packing peanuts. Author's Note ONE SPELLING ERROR. FIXED.
I Want My Hat Back.View OnlineScrewed UpI Want My Hat Back.Author's Note FIXITATION. not a word. don't care. I Want My Hat Back. Even after all that I'm having trouble getting started. I'm tired, on the very edge of sanity, and I can't find my hats. Before you ask, I actually am referring to two hats. One is a black fedora, and it looks positively sexy, and the other is a beanie with the little helicoptery thingy sticking out of the top. The former belongs to me, and the latter belongs to my cerebral bunk-mate. I'm going to guess that I left them at ho- >grglrlglrg<. I am apparently hungry. Good thing I made it halfway to town. I'll stop in and get some food. Too bad I'm broke. I would've grabbed some cash, and probably some clothes, if it hadn't been for my overactive imagination getting paired with Dissy's reality bending daughter. I actually imagined that whole ordeal, and as a result, it became real. All because of Discord. Don't be so hard on him. He's a lot of fun when you get to know him. "Yeah, and I bet he's great at parties." Are you psychic?" "No, just really good at guessing." How good? "You know the scientific method, right?..." I think... is that the one where the two unicorn ponies who meet in a lab fall in love? "...Never mind." Okay. By the way, did you ever stop to look where you were going? With that, I stopped dead in my tracks, only to come face to face with a telephone pole. If that isn't a close call, then I don't know what is. We continued down the road as we proceeded to have the most boring conversation ever. 1 HOUR LATER... "...and that's why I will never go hiking with my friends again." Wow, how did you get away from those geese? "Three twigs and a bottle of diet coke." Even I'm pretty sure that doesn't make sense. Then again, I wasn't there. Then again again, if what d- HERE IT IS. "Quit rooting around in my skull, I keep my thoughts very private!" Wow, you really DID fend them off with nothing but a few twigs and a bottle, but it was Peepsi- "Pepsi, and I think you might be right...go on." - and you had like, twenty sticks "Oh, well then. Say, can you find something in there? A TV tropes password?" Nope, nothing there, just something called Invader Zim... "MUAHAHAHAHAHA...sorry, that show is so cool. It revolutionized cartoons." 5 minutes later... ...This...Is...SO...AWESOME! -zap- "Thought you might like it." -zap-crackley-zap Especially the little robot guy who likes waffles! >ZAPPITTY ZAP< "You mean GIR?" >CRACKLEY ZAP ZAP< YEAH! >ZAPPITY CRACKLE ZAP CRACKLE< BOOM<< That was the transformer on one of the telephone poles. It just exploded, and while I hate to admit it, it was pretty cool. But that begs the question... WHY DID IT EXPLODE IN THE FIRST PLACE? Oops "It's okay, just please, please be more careful, and try not to break anymore laws of physics 'till we find Hank." Who? "Hank is a buddy of mine. He'll take us in so long as we don't wreck his house or eat all his chips." Is he one of the people who got turned into a pony? "Well, it's possible, in fact, I didn't hear from him yesterday, so maybe he is. We'll have to wait and see." We walked for about 20 more minutes until we got to his house. After a failed attempt (likely on my part) to reach the doorbell, we decided just to try and knock. KNOCK KNOCK<... The door slowly and ominously creaked open, and the first thing I heard from inside, in an accent so recognizable it hurt, I heard: "Oh, it's you, come in dahling, we have much to discuss." Aw, come on!
Now For Something Completely Different View OnlineScrewed UpNow For Something Completely Different Author's Note New Character alert! Do not panic! New POV! Now For Something Completely Different I welcomed the stranger into my home with open arms. I knew I wasn't the only one in this godforsaken town who turned! Now I have proof! I wonder who it is. "Hank?" Asked the stranger. "How do you know my name? Who are you?" "Donny, unfortunately. Then again,there's a lot of Screwball in here too, so I'm starting to lose track." "Zat-I mean-THat isn't good, how long haff-sorry-haVE you been like this? My apologies about THe accent, THis toungue IS on autopilot." "Geez, that sucks. It happened at like, well, this morning. "How are you already so fah gone? How long haVE you been running? Are you hungry?" "Brain damage and reality warping, given the time on the clock, eight hours, and yes, STARVING." "Okay...so how are We going to get to New York?" "New York? now does NOT seem like the time for a road trip." "Check z-THe news. We need to go to New York to help z-THe elements." "Okay, whatever you say." Good, he believes this insane bunch of insanity. I wonder what Screwball is like? I haven't seen her on the show, but I'm sure Donny's going to be fine. He's capable of withstanding three continuous nights of nothing but Doctor Who and cartoons, he can handle an existential crisis. Maybe. No, of course he can, or my name isn't Hank Onager (it is). 'Course my boss is gonna kill me, and there are more than a few people in town who'd love nothing more than to wring our necks, but hey, life y'know. I just wish I could get the television working. I wanna watch a Bond flick before we head out. Now, where did Donny go? "Donny! Where are you?" HI, MY NAME IS-WHAT-MY NAME IS-WHO-MY NAME IS-CHICKACHICKA SLIM SHADY<< Oh, no, he turned on the stereo. My brother really needs to not leave it turned up so high, it's dreadfully loud and I am developing noise sickness. I'd better go teach Donny how to work a stereo system before he does something stupid, like accidentally get into the *audible shudder* Gangster Rap. MY BRAIN'S DEAD WEIGHT, TRYNA...<< "PLEASE TURN OFF THAT RACKET!!" *off* "Sorry, I bumped into the button, and it just started blasting." "It's okay, just don't do it again." "Got it." Now that that ordeal is settled, I can warn him about the trip. My brother will be taking us, and I really do hope he brings a more...tasteful and varied selection of driving music. He gets terrible road rage when he listens to Eminem. Any other rap is just painful to listen to. In fact, I think that's him now. The door opened, and he popped in and immediately...picked me up and hugged me. Unexpected, but I'm not one to judge. He can be quite the friendly guy when he isn't listening to rap and hip hop. "Lil' bro, I missed you so much, and now I can't see your lil' bro face. Looked just like mine, now you went and turned into pony lady gaga. Damn." Yep, same old bro. The most charming narcissist you'll ever meet. "Say, do you mind one more?" "A lil' bro friend? Sure, 'snothin'." "Okay. Donny, come on in." Donny bounded into the room with a skip in his (her?) step. "Is this your illustrious brother?" "Yours, truly, lil' bro friend. The dis got you too? you look like a hypnotist." What? "Cool, We're really going to New York?" "Train leaves tomorrow lil' bro friend." "Awww, I wanna go now." "Sorry, I can't drive cross country, we gotta catch a train. I know the guy who runs the booth, he'll hook us up." "Nice." Okay, now to ask the most important question of the night. Here goes. "Can We Watch a Bond moVie tonight?" "I'll grab the popcorn and drinks, you two pick the flick." This day just became somewhat less of a nightmare. I at least get to enjoy the exploits of secret agent of the MI-6, code name: 007. Just like old times. "Which one first?" Just like oooold tiiiimes. "Whatever one has the most explosions." "You'VE got It, buddy.
Amateur Rappers And Professional PhotographersView OnlineScrewed UpAmateur Rappers And Professional PhotographersI had a Poptart and a glass of orange juice. Delicious, delicious orange juice. Hank's brother got back with the popcorn, and we had just finished pulling the Dr. Pepper out of the fridge (which took way more effort than it should have). I'm still having trouble processing this: Hank, my lifelong friend, who I've always known since like, kindergarten, is now occupying the body known as Photo Finish. I don't know why, but I can't get past that. Either way, we're still bros, even if he has to struggle through that ridiculous accent. I know I've seen her somewhere. "That's Photo Finish, she does all the photography stuff for like, models and stuff. I think. I'm a little rusty on the canon, but I bet that's right." CANNONS? I LOVE CANNONS! THEY CAN LAUNCH PONIES SO HIGH INTO THE SKY, THEY CAN ALMOST REACH THE MOON! SO COOL!" Hey, Donny. You there? "Calm down, we wouldn't wanna blow another transformer, would we?" Donny? Oh, please, I'm perfectly calm. DONNY!! "I'm okay! What happened?" "You zoned out for a minute there. It Waz like you were in your own little World." "You'd be surprised." We sat down and started watching the movie. It was, to say the least, pretty buckin' cool. Bond hit those guys with a ladder and he was all like WHAP! And then he started driving the boats, and the chief of police was all like DANGIT! And then, at the end they were all li- Wouldn't wanna give away too much would we? "You're right, sorry." As I was saying, we watched the movie, and then Hank's brother decided it was time for everybody to start winding down. I asked a question of utmost importance. "What day is it anyway?" "Marsday. That sounds really stupid, but sadly, it is true. Oh, yeah, the calendar. I almost forgot. It was, in hindsight, a pretty funny gag. Hmmmmm? "Oh, quiet you." We got the news ready and going and it would appear that we are not alone in our endeavor dozens of peeps are by our side and ready to conquer the looming threat of the vending machine menace. I mean Discord. "You know what would be funny?" Yeah? "Discord dressed as Q." Who? Wait...no that's not...maybe...here. Haha! That would be funny! I would like nothing more than to go now, but Hank's brother can't drive cross country because he has mild narcolepsy and might fall asleep at the wheel. So, we're taking the train. Heheh. Just a small town girl. Livin' in a lonely world. "She took the midnight train goin' anywhere." "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" What was that? Don't know. Maybe we're getting squished together? "Ew." Not like that, it's like...I am becoming more like you, and you are becoming more like me, and my awesome powers speed it up like, twenty times. "So that a reaction that would normally take four or five days happens..." Over the course of one. "Over the course of one." Even when I'm not using them they're going in the background "Charging up like a battery." Right, and I need to release that sort of, pure chaos, just to not, for lack of a better word, explode. "Is that why you aren't as...nuts as I expected?" I try to be careful where and when I use my powers, and how. If I didn't, I'd end up frozen in marble. "Just like dad." Exactly. So we talked more, our mind wandering from subject to subject until we agreed that nothing was going to stop the "merge" and that we were going to have to give up the ghost eventually. Tonight. We're doing this, man. WE'RE MAKING IT HAPPEN. But first, Hank's brother decided to rap for us. He should leave the lyrics to the professionals. He has a great voice and can't write. Damn shame. Oh, well. Goodnight, and thanks for all the fish.
Breaking The BarrierView OnlineScrewed UpBreaking The BarrierGot to sleep surprisingly quickly. All it took was getting comfortable, and cranking the white noise up so high that no normal person (or pony) would be able to sleep, and we were out like a light. That's when things got weird. First, The field was dark and stormy, instead of clear. Second, there was a very faint scent of strawberry on the air, while the melody to the Major General song played on repeat in the background. It would appear that I am singing to a waxing lyrical To claim that I have gone insane would be very satirical My mind it is a chorus, and our hats they lay before us So let's get a move on Screwy, or we're really gonna bite the dust! Cheesy I know, but it suited the moment. The glass wall that Just hours ago seemed so pristine and clear was cracked and chipped. I knew what needed to be done. It was time for us to do what needed to be done by us. We needed to bring down the wall. "Do the honors?" "ON THREE!" "ONE!" The storm howled, almost in protest. "TWO!" Okay, the wind definitely picked up right there. "THREE" <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< ||||||||||||||| ||||||||| <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< Just like that, Somebody else's life, THE WHOLE THING, flashed before my eyes. Endless hours in the park watching that statue, waiting for him to come back. Those blissful days void of logic and reason. I missed those days, days where the only real limits were in your mind. Days where you could howl at the moon and sleep in the middle of a summer afternoon, and nobody would get mad, or call you a tyrant. Those few blissful days. That I was THERE for. It felt real, like a memory. It was like a past life. A fantastic reality. Living a life in a body never suited to vessel my thoughts. There's my TV Tropes password! Liar. Or, I guess that doesn't make sense anymore does it, or what. Wait, what the hell do I call myself now? Let's go with Screws Maxwell until further notice. I have never honestly thought that astral projection or Out of Body Experiences were real, but after tonight, I still don't and that was irrelevant to the plot. Heheh, I said plot. Irregardless (is not a real word, LOOKITUP), I need to contact discord. The fate of the world may rest in my capable hooves. STILL Not used to saying that. Time to break some molds and put in the story of my journey by train to New York. Speaking of Yorkees... Author's Note ...and the mome-raths outgrabe. Wait, wha? -42 (the answer to all life's great mysteries.)
Is This The Real Life, Is This Just Fantasy?View OnlineScrewed UpIs This The Real Life, Is This Just Fantasy?Author's Note fixed AGAIN. Is This The Real Life, Is This Just Fantasy? CAUGHT IN A LANDSLIDE, NO ESCAPE FROM REALITY.<< That's enough of that. *off* What happened? well, for starters, discord got the bright idea to turn Hank's brother into a changeling. He really doesn't want us to get to New York. Why? Because he's probably protecting me, that's why. Either way, we need a new D.D. I'd ask my parents, but I find that unlikely to work. Wherever they are, I hope they're safe. Now, we've got to find someone who can drive. Unless, can Hank's brother turn human? He is a changeling, so I don't see why not. Unless they're like the spies in TF2, where he can only disguise himself as others. In which case we're up the creek without a paddle. Damn. I was hoping I'd get to go to New York. Oh, well. We can't now, so why... wait, what's this on my head? IS IT? GREAT SCOTT, MY HAT!! IT'S BACK! YES!! Ooh, there's a note attached. You left this at home. See you soon. Dissy AWESOME!! YEAH, YEAH, YEAH! Okay, now I can get somewhere! Oh, the times I've had with this hat. Floating like a butterfly, wreaking havoc like a BOSS! LET'S DO IT! SCARAMOUCHE! SCARAMOUCHE! WILL YOU DO THE FANDANGO?!<< *off* >pop< Oops, better calm down before I, for lack of a better word, EXPLODE. Wait... I'll just poof up some chamomile tea... Here we go.. and hopefully that'll calm my nerves. (Tea drinking noises). "So, Hank's brother, what's your real name?" "Terrence" "Oh." "What? Were you expecting something else?" "A little." "Well, too bad, cupcake. You get what you get." "Playing the cynic today, are we?" "What?" "[Those raspberry letters again]" "...okay." "Can you turn human again?" "I don't know how to turn into ANYTHING, let alone a human." "Dang, we need a driver." "Yep. Guess what though?" "What?" "I just called Rory, He'll be here in no time." Hmmm. Rory...Time...Nah, that isn't possible. "Who's Rory?" "A friend of mine, real history buff. Knows everything you need to know about the Romans." Don'tsayitdon'tsayitdon'tsayit. "Does he know any good doctors?" "He's got a friend who's a doctor. Can't remember what kind though." FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU "HHHHHA HA HA!" "What's so funny?" "Heh, nothing." From the other room I hear: "It's a Doctor Who thing." Dangit, Hank, why ya gotta mess up my fun? I was this close to making a joke, and now it seems like a total circlejerk. In other words, IT ISN'T FUNNY ANYMORE. *zap* "Oh, Ok." "Well, when will he be here?" "In about twenty minutes." 19 minutes later... "WHEN WILL HE BE HERE?!?!" "Soon, give him a minute" 55 seconds later... *car* "There he is." *door* "So, where are we headed?" Reluctantly, I speak up. "No questions? You walk into a room with 2 ponies and a shapeshifting bug, and you don't at least wanna know how it came to be?" "Don't care. no time" I already like this guy. Let's get to trouble 'n' stuff. He knows what he needs to do and he does it. He leads. Am I overanalyzing this? Indeed. We all go out and pack into his SUV. To say it was cramped would be a massive understatement. Apparently, we're bringing along a few of his friends as well. Now, to test something. "Hey, Rory?" "Yeah?" "How much do you know about the Romans?" "You'd be surprised." 5 hours later...I'm gonna run out of timecards soon. "Those are the basics." Wow. Five hours straight. That's some kind of record. history lesson aside, we pull over at a rest stop because everyone had to pee and we needed snacks for the trip (We ditched the train idea, Dad'd probably derail it or something anyway.). As we were getting rung up, a large, burly man with a short beard came out from an aisle. I noticed him acting suspicious, so I paid attention. (for once) Sure enough, he had a walkie-talkie in his coat, and this is what he said: "There's three of 'em in the store on 30th. I'm lookin' right at 'em. They're headed your way, so get ready. Don't forget to use the good shogun." He might have said shotgun, but I definitely heard shogun. Either way we're in trouble. We all cram silently into the car and drive off. Should I tell them to take a detour? Yeah, That guy sounded serious, I'll warn them. "Rory?" "Yes?" "That guy in the store was plotting against us, and I think we should take a detour." "I know." "Wha-" "He's following us." ...uh oh. "Don't worry though, watch this." Then he pushed a button on the dash that didn't look like it did anything, but then there was a sound like metal on pavement. I looked out the back window and saw that he'd, somehow or other, deployed a spike strip. The truck behind us stopped dead, and walkie talkie guy got out and started FUMING. It was like he was trying to swear and dance his tires back to life. It was hilarious. We all shared a laugh, then realized that we'd just attracted attention from a very dangerous group. we came to a roadblock. They were carrying shotguns and picket signs. It was PAPA, and they were PISSED.
Let's Get Dangerous.View OnlineScrewed UpLet's Get Dangerous.Everybody freaks out, of course, as we stop in front of the hooligans. One of them walks up to the driver's seat. I would have put the resulting conversation here, but everything started getting really fuzzy. Kinda like when the dentist gives you the laughing gas stuff. The guy at the window started freaking out, then everybody in the car started freaking out, and before you know it, the shotgun toting psychos started running for the hills, Rory gunned it through the wooden barricade, and the song "through the fire and flames" started playing on the radio. That's when I blacked out. 5 MINUTES... YOU KNOW WHAT? NUTS TO THIS, I'M OUTTA HERE. *Footsteps* "(incoherent mumbling)sandwich(MORE incoherent mumbling)where did that narwhal come from?(FRIGGIN INCOHERENT MUMBLING)nickels and dimes." And I say, "HEY." what a wonderful kind of day "Oh, you're awake...hey." "What? What's wrong?" "You seriously didn't see that?" "See what?" "Well..." ... Oh, that's right, time card guy stormed out in a huff. Well, he explained to me what had happened while I was unconscious. POV---->RORY I was driving, when the magenta pony in my backseat said that we were being followed. I reassured her and leaned in to activate the makeshift spike strip I keep handy for situations just like this. Let's hope it doesn't blow out MY tires this time. "Don't worry, watch this." The strip deployed without a hitch. Score one for amateurs. As we drove away from the fuming redneck screaming at his car, we pulled up to about six or seven more fuming rednecks holding 12 gauges and protester signs. They said PAPA or some such annoyance. There was a humming noise coming from the backseat, so for my own safety and sanity, I turned around. The magenta one was glowing, and the one dressed like a french model was desperately trying to climb into the front seat. One of the protestors walked over to my window. "Where's the pony?!" "Huh? Oh,so-" He got hit in the face with a Boston creme pie just as I was about to spout a witty retort. Well, that's when things got crazy. All the guys with guns pulled them on us, and the barrels bent upwards at a right angle like bugs bunny had gotten a hold of them. They started freaking out and one grabbed a handgun. He tried to fire, but all that came out was a little flag. I think it'd be safe to assume that it said "bang". All that time the humming noise got louder, and there was even the occasional pop and crackle. I turned around again and saw the Magenta pony was still glowing some kinda funny color, and the swirls in it's eyes were spinning wildly around. Then, some kinda chain chomp type thing appeared behind the car, and, not to be eaten, I gunned it. That Dragonforce song from GHIII came on the radio, and there was total and utter madness. It was raining sandwiches. Yes, you heard me right, sandwiches. With extra mustard. Shortly after, there were flying narwhals soaring through the air around the car, playing chocolate ukeleles. Don't ask. After about twenty minutes of what could only be described as complete madness, the mare came to. She wanted to know what happened. Author's Note FINISHED. I've decided to take up some unfinished business