Ricky: The Equestrian Legend

by Sheldoncutrer

Rating: teen
Tags: Human, Comedy, Random, Adventure
Length: 3809

Ricky hates ponies. Everything about them. Too bad. He's going on an adventure with them.

When Ricky's truck hits 88 miles per hour he gets transported to the magical world of talking horses. Wacky antics ensue.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-10 21:50:01 UTC

chapter one

The sun shone brightly as another sweltering day in Louisiana began.  It was just as hot and miserable as any other summer day.  But today would be different.  Amidst the smelly urban decay was one house in particular.  In this house lives the main protagonist, Ricky.  Now at first glance, Ricky doesn't look all that special, and in truth, he's not.  But... sometimes abnormal things happen to normal people.  This is one of those times.

Ricky woke up to the sound of his alarm.  He got up, stumbled around in the darkness of his room looking for his phone, stepped on one of his Warhammer figures,  cursed, and then fell to the floor.  He lay there on the floor, various wires and other detritus digging into his back as his alarm continued to ring.  Ricky made his way to the light switch and gave it a flick.

The room was then illuminated in a fluorescent light, much to Ricky's chagrin.  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and did a quick survey of the room.  Clothes lay dirty on the floor, empty chip bags scattered about the room.  What gave him pause was that his computer was off.

"God damnit", he said as he made his way over to the darkened monitor.  He quickly swatted away a few empty soda cans standing on his desk, as they fell to the floor making hollow clanging sounds.  He moved his mouse around to make sure it didn't go into standby mode.  It was indeed off.  The reason this irked Ricky so was that his computer was normally kept running as it was a pain in the ass to reboot it.  "Someone must have overloaded the friggin' breaker again", he muttered to no one in particular.  If Ricky wasn't unhappy before, he certainly was now.

The sound of his alarm starting up again snapped him out of it though as he remembered that he had bigger fish to fry.  He had to get to work.  Now Ricky works as a meat cutter at your generic supermarket.  He actually enjoyed his job to some degree he supposed, and would be rather pissed if he was late to work. He decided he would talk to his roommates later about proper power usage.  He grabbed his phone and headed to the bathroom to begin his morning routine, sparing as it was.  On his way he spied his roommate Sheldon passed out on the couch.  Next to him, a half-empty bottle of Vodka.  Ricky rolled his eyes as he lamented on the fact that some people have to work for a living.

He walked in the bathroom, set down his phone by the sink and quickly assessed his appearance.  Ricky was a little on the portly side, but most southerners were anyway he supposed.  His hair was short, a bit messy, and black, as was his goatee.  Ricky was what you could call a rough looking individual.  Ricky checked the time on his phone.  It read 7:26. "Shit!" Ricky said as he realized there was no time for a shower. He went to the room next to the bathroom to see his other roommate, Andrew laying on a foldout futon, snoring loudly, and was wearing a blue and yellow hoodie with pony ears sticking out of the top of his hood.  Andrew referred to it as his "wonderbolts hoodie", Ricky just called it a faggy pony jacket.  It had pony ears for Christ's sake.

Yes, Andrew and Sheldon were both what you would call "bronies".  Sad, sad people who would on a regular basis watch a show called "My Little Pony".  Ricky could not for the life of him figure out why they both found it so appealing, and frankly, he didn't give a damn.  "Hey fatass" Ricky said gruffly.  "wake up."

In response Andrew gave an exasperated groan and slowly sat up.  "What?", Andrew said.

  "I'm late for work, you're gonna have to find someone else to bring you to work today.", Ricky said.

  Andrew then fully woke up.  "What?!" he said, a look of shock plastered on his face.  "You can't  do that!"

"Look", Ricky said, "I'm not going to be late on account of your sorry ass.  Just call one of your friends", he said exiting the room.  "I'm sure they'll give you a ride."  He sauntered his way to Bobby's room to pay his rent.  He closed the distance between himself and the door and knocked twice.  No response.  He knocked again with the same result.  'Whatever',  he thought, 'I'll just pay it after I get off of work.' He exited his domicile and stood outside for a moment, appreciating nature's beauty; the flowers, the clouds, the butterflies, everything.  Ricky could appreciate life's simple pleasures.  At that moment. a bee stung him.  "OW!" he said, "FUCK YOU NATURE!" and jogged over to his truck.  He stopped.  Walking to the back of the truck, he saw what caused him so much distress.  On the back of his truck was painted a strange symbol.  The symbol appeared to be a cloud with a rainbow colored lightening bolt coming out of it.  "What the fuck is this gay shit?!"  Ricky exclaimed.

Ricky may have been unhappy before, but he was downright pissed now.  He didn't recognize the symbol, but deduced that since it had rainbows in it, it had something to do with that gay ass pony shit and that either Andrew or Sheldon were to blame.  He swallowed his anger once again, as he did not have the time for this.  He would just get them to wash it off later.  He entered his gray pickup, and like his room, it was quite messy.  Richy was quite fond of the old gal, he just wished it had a bigger motor, but it got the job done.  He backed out of the driveway and made his way to work.

He turned on his radio to the first rock station he could find.  Not that he much cared for the crap they played nowadays.  Any of the bands he liked before had either sold out or were long gone.  Ricky guessed he just liked the noise.  Ricky rolled (never gonna give you up! never gonna let you) down the window as he pulled up to a stoplight.  A rumbling in his stomach reminded him that he didn't eat anything yet.  That meant that he would most likely get a nice balanced breakfast from the nearest Taco Bell.  ......Was it open this early?

Just then Ricky heard a sound that chilled him to the bone.  Pony music.  He had heard Sheldon and Andrew playing it and therefore "fagging up the house" enough to recognize it for what it was.  He cocked his head to the left just in time to see a car decked out in pony stickers pull up next to him.  It was almost gayer than a Prius.  Almost.

He could see inside the car, all the occupants wearing pony t-shirts, buttons, temporary tattoos, (at least he hoped they were temporary) some even wore jackets and beanies.  Ricky was frankly surprised they weren't sucking each other off.  One of them rolled down the window and quickly struck out a fist.  He looked as though he expected it to be pounded.  He was going to be sorely disappointed.  The only thing Ricky was going to be pounding was drinks later tonight.  He had just bought a 72 dollar bottle of absinthe and he couldn't wait to get to it.

"Hey bro!", the brony said.  "Saw the kickass decal on the back of your truck!  I guess that makes your truck about twenty percent cooler than all the other trucks!"  All the bronies began laughing hysterically and exchanging fist bumps.  Whatever the joke was it was lost on him.  Needless to say, Ricky was dumbfounded.  So he did the only thing he knew how.  He gave the proper response to meeting a bunch of bronies.  He raised his middle finger.

They all stared wide-eyed at Ricky's now grinning face.  They weren't quite sure how to respond.  The light turned green, and Ricky sped off cackling like a madman.  The bronies sat in silence until one of them spoke up.

"What was up with him?", one said.

  Another responded, "yeah, what a strange way for a fellow brony to react."

"He must have been jelly of our swagger."

  The driver finally spoke.  "Don't worry bro's, he'll discover the magic of friendship soon enough.", he said somewhat ominously, his voice changing.  He snapped his fingers.

chapter two

Ricky sped down the interstate, the wind blowing through his hair. He let his mind wander for a bit, thinking of how he would most likely watch various animes when he got off of work , or maybe some Sons of Anarchy, or maybe he would play some good ol' World of Warcraft. He then remembered bitterly that he would have to restart his computer when he got home. He tried to calm himself and took a few deep breaths. It was working, and he soon felt his anger subsiding.

Ricky saw his exit coming, so he flicked on his turn signal and attempted to slow down. He was shocked to find that he could no longer slow down in order to exit the interstate. His mind was racing, he wasn't entirely sure what to do, so he simply shouted, "GOD DAMNIT!" . His truck shook violently and sped up to 70 miles per hour. He couldn't stop, he could only watch in terror as the interstate traffic came closer and closer. His radio faded out then crackled back into life. Strange laughter erupted from the radio as Kickstart My Heart by Motley Crue began to play, seeming strangely appropriate, given the current circumstances. He watched the odometer climb to 75, his heart pounding in his chest, he desperately tried to think of a way out of his predicament, but to no avail. He quickly pulled his steering wheel this way and that, weaving in and out of traffic. He heard a familiar sound. Police sirens. That's not good. He wondered how he was going to explain this to them. His truck started acting on its own? Sounded unlikely. His breath hitched. what if...he didn't make it out of this? What if this was his last day on earth? Now this wasn't the first time he faced his own mortality, he had gotten in a wreck before, and still had the scars to prove it. But he wasn't sure his body could take it again. Would anyone cry for him when he was gone? Would anyone even care? Ricky hadn't exactly made many friends in his years, he was kind of a loner.

He immediately snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed he was quickly driving off the side of the road. He jerked his steering wheel to the side, causing him to smash into the car next to him. The car in turn smashed into another car, as it careened off the road, producing a blare from its horn that faded into the distance. As if that weren't bad enough, his truck shot up to 80 miles per hour, making him crash into the car in front of him, shoving it off the road. Needless to say, Ricky was practically pissing himself in terror.

After a couple minutes of cheesy car chase sequence, Ricky saw the flashing lights in the distance, no doubt a police barricade. "Oh god" he said, "this is it, I'm gonna die! And on an empty stomach too!" His truck got faster and faster, and as he neared the barricade, he closed his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable. Policemen exchanged nervous glances. Just as his truck hit 88 miles per hour it became bathed in electricity and disappeared, leaving behind some very shocked police officers.

chapter three

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!".