Ricky: The Equestrian Legend

Ricky woke up dazed and confused. (Ha, see what I did there?) He slowly opened his eyes and looked around. He was met with a blinding light. He waited for his vision to clear. He did not like what he saw. His radio seemed to be blown out, the box set of Heroes season 1 he kept on his dashboard was fried, as was the copy of Half-Life 2 he kept in his side door. "What the fuck happened?", he wondered aloud. He saw that the sun was shining brightly outside his pickup, with rolling green hills as far as the eye could see. It was quite beautiful. He paused. something was wrong, but he couldn't quite figure it out. The realization hit him harder than the indigestion he gets after eating too many bacon wrapped jalepeno cheese poppers. "Where the fuck is the interstate?" He tried quickly getting out of his truck but he tripped on the discarded Mcdonald's bags and fell to the ground directly on his face. He quickly got up, looking to make sure that no one was around to see that. He appeared to be completely alone.

He thought carefully, trying to recall the events that led up to his current situation. He was on the interstate driving to work when his truck sped out of control, he was being chased by the cops, he smashed into several cars, he came to the police barricade, then...then what? What happened? He decided he might get some answers by checking his truck. He popped the hood to check the engine, and stared in disbelief. The entire engine was melted together in one big metal mass. He stumbled back a few steps. He needed to think this through;he needed a plan. Ricky remembered the cell phone is in his pocket, and pulled it out. Broken...this was really not his day. He threw his phone and screamed several, several profanities. When he got tired of doing that he kicked his truck. When he hurt his foot from doing that he simply sat in grass with his head in his palms.  After a while he decided that unless he did something his situation would not improve. He got up, and after getting rid of a charlie horse, he started to walk the direction that his truck was facing. One thing you should know about Ricky is that he doesn't exactly lead an active lifestyle, therefore he hates walking. "My goddamn knee hurts." Ricky grumbled. Ricky thought back to his high school when walking didn't bother him so much. Back when he was still on the football team, when the whole world was still at his finger tips. He had friends back then. He did a little smile that made him look like a redneck Buddha. He could hear the cheers of hundreds in his head. He remembered all the offers for scholar ships from the different colleges. Funny how all those opportunities dried up after the injury,or how all his so called friends abandoned him over the years. His smile turned into a bitter scowl. Happiness was an overrated lie as far as he was concerned.

He tried to take his mind off of things by checking out the scenery. None of the area looked familiar to him. There were no pine trees around, mosquitoes weren't constantly trying to bite him, and the sun provided a pleasant warmth instead of hot, humid, and horrible. The surrounding area had colorful flowers, a couple of scattered oak trees, and butterflies fluttering about. He stuck out his hand and a butterfly landed on it. He let out a little giggle. Just then a bird swooped down and ate the butterfly, causing him to yelp in surprise. Then, as if adding insult to injury, the bird then flew around and proceeded to release its bowels right in Ricky's face, effectively blinding him, making him trip and roll downhill. He was lucky all those anthills were there to slow his descent. He was finally stopped by a particularly hard oak tree. Unfortunately this made the beehive that was in the tree fall and break open beside him. (Wow, the author must really like to see Ricky get hurt) He couldn't react time due to the fact that bird poop was in his eyes. He was surrounded by stinging pain. Yelling, he got to his feet and ran in a random direction, arms flailing hilariously all the while. Good thing he fell in a pond too, or those bees would have kept stinging him. He emerged from the water feeling broken and beaten. He swam to the shore and climbed out of the pond. He realized he lost his work hat, but he didn't care at this point, it's not like he's going to make it to work now anyway. He wasn't even sure how he was going to get home, he lost his truck, he was lost, hurt, tired, and still hungry. Yet he didn't shed a single tear. He was surprisingly determined, and almost never quits, even in the face of adversity, and after another hour of walking, being chased by a bear, falling into a briar patch, and some more cursing, his persistence finally paid off.  In the distance he could see what appeared to be a small town. His eyes instantly lit up and he ran towards the town.Approximately thirty seconds later he had his hands on his knees gasping for air. He glanced over his shoulder to see how far he got. It looked to be about sixty feet. He then keenly decided that it would be in his best interest that he walk.

He could see the town edging ever so closer as he walked. He thought he would probably look a little weird wearing his butcher coat through town, but there was really no other option. He planned on finding the first place of business he could and ask to use their phone. He would most likely call his place of work first, then he would call Bobby. What would he tell him? That he somehow got in trouble with the police and couldn't find his way back home? He was a little stressed by the whole situation. He wasn't sure what to make of this, or even if the cops were still after him. He noticed the sign to the town. It said: "Welcome to Ponyville". Ricky laughed as he thought about how odd the name was. He had never heard of such a town in Louisiana. Perhaps it was too small to appear on a map. What an odd name though. It almost reminded him of... nah, that was impossible, there was no way. But yet the architecture was strange, it was like it was built in another century. Ricky didn't quite know enough about architecture to name the specific style, but it looked to be medieval. He wondered if he had somehow stumbled upon a renaissance faire. He actually liked the ren faire, and occasionally visited it. He even bought a couple of swords from there. There was one problem with his ren faire theory. The ren faire he had been to wasn't as big as this...Ponyville he was looking at. Perhaps it was a different one. Did he somehow unknowingly drive out of state before he broke down? He only knew of one ren faire in Louisiana and this clearly wasn't it.

He stopped when he suddenly realized he was in town, and no one was around. He continued walking, no sound being made other than his own footsteps. A chill ran down his spine. The sight of an abandoned town kind of set him on edge, but he just assumed that it was abandoned because it was closed at the moment. He wondered how long he would have to wait until a groundskeeper or someone showed up. It could be days. He wondered if his roommates would even file a missing persons report if he was gone too long. He somehow doubted it. He jumped, he thought he heard something fall, but no, he was alone...wasn't he? Maybe he imagined it. He wanted to call out, but something told him he didn't want a response. He decided that since he didn't have much of a choice, he'd have to break into the main office to use the telephone. He wondered who he could call. 'Probably not the ghostbusters.' he chuckled to himself. He didn't have many friends due to his abrasive personality, and he doubted his roommates would lift a goddamn finger to help him out. Not that he would want to help them anyway. His pride got in the way. He had a startling thought. He might have to spend the night here. Ricky was by no means an easily frightened man, hell, one time he fought off a thief who pulled a knife on him in New Orleans. He was no stranger to danger and he was certainly no pushover. But for whatever reason this place did not sit right with him. It was as if every fiber of his being was telling him that something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

He decided to throw caution to the wind. "Hello?" he said, his voice wavering a bit. He looked around for any sign of life whatsoever. "Hello, is anyone there? I need help!" he said. He desperately looked around only to be met with silent houses. He picked up his pace. "Someone help! I've been in an accident!" Somewhere across the span of the multiverse, Alan Wake suddenly felt a strong sense of deja vu. Good for you if you get that joke. Back to business. Ricky was now more than a bit panicked, and decided he would take drastic measures by using a word he almost never used. "PLEASE! Someone help m-" he paused. He definitely heard a sound this time. He couldn't quite place the sound, and it was hard for him to put into words, but if he had to, he would say it sounded like a hollow wooden tapping played at high speeds.

Then he heard a sound that made his heart jump for joy. A human voice, female to be more specific. "Don't worry sir, I'm coming to help you!"

He spoke with relief rampant in his voice. "Oh thank god, you have no idea what kind of day I've been having!"

As the female rounded the corner, Ricky's face turned into a look of sheer horror. She wasn't human, she was a purple unicorn, and at that moment she was staring wide eyed at him. He stared back, unsure of what to say. His mind was drawing blanks.

The unicorn finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly. "A-are you the monster?"

Ricky spoke softly at first. "Oh god no...nononono..." He started backing away slowly, now realizing his worst fears were confirmed, but not quite ready to accept it.

To an outsider, this situation would seem downright hilarious. A giant mountain of a man scared witless at the sight of a purple unicorn that stood at roughly half his height. The unicorn cautiously followed Ricky, but stopped when he shouted "STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!".

She spoke again. "Weren't you the one calling for help?" The purple unicorn looked confused now.

Ricky then hatched a plan directly proportionate to his intelligence, which pretty much equated to turning around and running away while shouting at the top of his lungs: "OH DEAR GOD I'M IN FAGGOTLAND!".