From the Land of the Wicked

by WWAPD

2 - Regarding the future implications of impending tyranny

Previous Chapter

Jason grunts, lifting his head from the now wet floor. He’s lying in what he thinks is a mixture of soda and his own stomach acid. He’s on the floor of his kitchen, a rather bad choice seeing how it was the dirtiest floor in the whole apartment.

He sits up, quickly regretting it after receiving a headache-rush of sorts. He’ll have to change his clothes. Struggling back to his feet, Jason returns to his bedroom and flicks on the light. He stumbles over to his dresser, and begins stripping.

Suddenly, Jason feels the presence of someone else in the room. Whipping around, he notices another body sleeping in his bed. It groans, and rolls over. It then sits up, and the head of a young brunette girl emerges from the covers. Her striking green eyes stare at him with brief agitation, and then soften.

“Well don’t you look like shit,” she says, wiggling her way out of Jason’s bed. “Why the hell are you up so early anyway? It’s like five or something.”

“Go back to bed,” Jason says as he pulls a new pair of pants on, “I have to go clean up a mess.”

He turns the lights off as he leaves the room, shutting the door. Again walking through the coke-acid, he opens one of his kitchen cabinets and removes a roll of paper towels. Using roughly a quarter of the roll, he begins to mop up the mess. If Jason had been smart enough, he would have thought to clean up the mess before changing into new clothes. Not that it matters much anyways. Finishing with his first task, he dumps the wad of now brown paper towels into the trash, thankful of the fact that he recently emptied it. He takes another quarter of the roll, wets it with tap water, and goes over the area one more time to remove any residue. After all, he did have a lady in the apartment.

After depositing the second wad of paper towel into the trash, he walks back over to the window. Jason hears the faint sounds of car alarms and shattering glass. Peering through the blinds, he’s able to catch a glimpse of the rioters below. This will be the second day in a row they’ve been this close to Jason’s building. He doesn’t know how much the security staff are able to take on.

Jason sighs, rubbing his face. At least his migraine seems to be at least mostly over. His bedroom door creaks open and moments later he feels two small hands stroking his shoulders. He feels a pair of lips kiss the back of his neck.

“Come back to bed,” the girl whispers in his ear, “it’s far too early for such unusual behavior.” She’s making fun of Jason’s usual eloquence.

Mind as well do it, Jason thinks. There’s not much else to do here but sleep and fuck.


Jason and Derek woke at the same time, both looking across the room at the other as if to confirm their sorry state of being. The hour hand on the clock was approaching twelve, which seemed about right for their sleep schedules.

They’d both slept in the same room. It had two twin beds on either side with the usual associated amenities: bedside table, dresser, lamp. There was a petite window across from the doorway that overlooked the street below. A photo of Rarity and her five other technicolor companions laughing together on a picnic blanket hung on the wall between the two beds. Not much else was to be said about the room in particular other that the uncanny fact that it was so well prepared. Rarity couldn’t have possibly expected them, and yet she still had a perfectly ready guest room the moment they set foot in her home. Neither Jason nor Derek said anything of it, for they had yet to experience any sort of discomfort.

Jason observed a rather dumbfounded expression on his friend’s waking pony face. After remembering the events of the day before, his head thudded back onto his pillow. “The shit I put up with,” Derek sighed.

It suddenly occurred to Jason that he hadn’t yet seen his own face. “Dude,” Jason said to Derek, “do you have a mirror or a camera or something?”

Derek’s eyes grew wide. He began frantically probing his hind legs. “Ah, crap,” he said, “I think I left my phone back on Earth.”

“And that just now came to your attention?” Jason was impressed by Derek’s petty worries.

When they’d finished making their beds (neither of them ever thought to do it at home, though in their current situation it seemed absolutely necessary), they came downstairs to find that Rarity standing behind a table filled with steaming plates. Strangely, her Element of Harmony hung around her neck. Jason dismissed it.

“I took the liberty of preparing breakfast for the two of you,” she said, beaming.

“Gee, thanks Rarity. That was pretty generous of you,” said Jason, feeling pretty stupid. Rarity was his favorite of the mane six; one would think he’d have come up with something better than that. Shit, calling Rarity generous was the equivalent of meeting Morgan Freeman and saying “you’re good at narrating”. Well, perhaps not that bad, but it involved loads more stupidity than Jason thought he had in him.

“Why, thankyou!” Rarity beemed. She then pushed two breakfast plates already filled with goodies over to Jason and Derek’s side of the table. “Eat up, you two,” Rarity continued while Derek nervously glanced over at Jason. “You’ve got a big day ahead of you.” Jason reciprocated the look back at Derek. The term “big day” doesn’t come to mind when describing two homeless, jobless, brand-new-in-town ponies.

Rarity went on to describe the day that lay before them with much excitement. “You’re first going to meet with the Elements of Harmony, Twilight Sparkle, Fluttershy, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and I to discuss the means by which the two of you are to obtain cutie marks.” Jason refrained from groaning at the idea while Derek was still snorting about the rest of the mane six’s names. “After that I presume it is up to the Elements and I to draft a forward plan as to what should be done with you in the long run.”

The remainder of breakfast was spent by Derek and Jason’s passing of strongly-worded glares to each other across the table that would otherwise be said aloud with gusto if not for the purple and white technicolor pony that watched their every move.
Following the awkward meal, the three of them walked to the hollowed out tree-library that Twilight Sparkle called home. She and the remainder of the mane six were waiting for them when they arrived, all of whom were wearing their elements. The five of them stood in a line, and for the first time Jason noticed the rather blatant expression of each pony’s opinion painted across each of their faces.
Least favorite of Jason’s, Applejack stood at the far left end of the line. She wore a penetrating glare, one that said “no bullshit” to the two seemingly idiot ponies. Jason could have dismissed it as bias, but intuition as well as Applejack’s expression told Jason that Applejack was not on their side.

Standing to the left of Applejack was Rainbow dash. However much hype she got from the rest of the brony community, Jason just found her to be exhausting, and today was no exception. She looked as though ready for battle instead of a meeting, and wore a devilish smile as her unwavering eyes met Jason’s. The glare hinted at a confrontation between them in the future, one that Jason would gladly avoid for as long as possible.
To the right of Rainbow Dash and at the head of the group stood Twilight Sparkle. Jason liked to tell himself Twilight was his second favorite, but he spent far too much time envying her intellect to give her that title. She easily had the best poker-face of the five of them, but clearly looked suspicious of the whole situation. It was the same look she’d had the night before, one that wanted to piece the puzzle together before anyone else knew the puzzle even existed. It seemed to Jason that she knew more than she let on, which troubled him.

After Rainbow Dash stood Pinkie Pie, who perhaps showed the most blatant look of disapproval on her face in the entire row of ponies. She was a crowd pleaser for many, and Jason was no exception. But to being so bubbly and simplistic twenty-four seven, Pinkie Pie was a little too annoying for Jason to handle. That said, Jason still felt ashamed to see the look of condemnation on Pinkie Pie’s face that he and his friend were the cause of.
And finally on the far right stood Fluttershy. Jason never had much of an opinion on her, other than that he thought she was too much the stereotypical Tsubaki-type to balance Rainbow Dash’s Black Star-type (Jason usually tried not to make analogies like that, but in this particular case it was just too glaring). Apart from the generally defensive body language and the complete avoidance of eye contact, Jason noticed another inner turmoil raging inside her. She too seemed as though she too knew more than she let on, but also that she didn’t want to know more than she let on. Something had deeply affected her, and it was most definitely related to the recent arrival of Jason and Derek.

“Talk about mixed reviews,” muttered Derek, “What are they so worked up about?”

“I have no idea,” responded Jason, “However I do think it’s in their nature to get over accusatory at first, so we shouldn’t be too alarmed. This a children’s show after all.”

Bullshit. Jason didn’t think that at all. To his knowledge, the mane six had no reason to appear this hostile. In fact, Jason had assumed that they would at least be welcomed with a smile before being interrogated, or whatever it was that they were about to take part in. No, instead Derek and Jason were being scrutinized by the mane six the same way they would Discord.

“So,” Twilight Sparkle began, putting Jason’s thoughts to a temporary close, “the mayor of Ponyville has put us in charge of taking care of you two, and by taking care of I mean making sure you two don’t get into trouble, and finding out exactly why you’re here.” It was clear to Jason that there was something off with the way she addressed him and Derek. “Let’s begin with the latter: why are you here?”

“Now, wait just a minute,” Derek chimed in, and for the first time Jason made no attempt at stopping him, “you’re acting like we’re a pair of criminals or something. We’re here because we need to be, and that’s all that matters. Our business is our own, as well as our problems and quarrels. We’ll stay as long as we need to, and we’ll do what we need to. We’re not going to be subjected to this mockery you seem to call guest treatment because we haven’t done anything wrong, and we most certainly are not going to answer any of your questions if you continue to antagonize us like a pair of hoodlums on the street.”

Jason had never seen Derek speak like that before. His speech had a sort of comforting effect; no matter what kind of shit this place would throw at them, Jason got the feeling that they were going to make it back home in one piece.
“I absolutely agree with him,” Rarity said, “I had the pleasure of providing lodging for these two last night, and so far they have shown me nothing more that the utmost respect and gratitude for my hospitality. Just because they look and act differently, doesn’t mean we should treat them like a pair of indecent colts.”

“Damn, do we really seem that different? I totally thought we had them fooled,” whispered Derek to Jason.

“That makes two of us,” Jason replied, “but hey, what’d I tell you? Rarity is totally best pony.” Jason felt himself becoming less concerned with the sanctity of his favorite show.

“What’s a hoodlum?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight turned her scorn towards the cyan pony. “That’s not what we’re here for.” She then turned back towards Jason and Derek, “I’ll tell you why we’re treating you like this: it’s because you don’t belong in Equestria. I wouldn’t be surprised if you two didn’t belong anywhere. For Celestia’s sake, just look at your flanks! They’re as bare as a young foal’s. How can we expect you to live here when you don’t have any special talents? You’ll be the laughing stock of our town, not to mention every blank-flank foal’s worst nightmare.”

“How could you possibly act so ignorant?” It was Jason’s turn to rant now. “Haven’t you the slightest idea what it’s like to live outside the comfort of your spoiled little kingdom? Cutie marks may not exist in Saddle Arabia, but at least they have common decency there. Or is it that you’re afraid of what we’ll do unsupervised? Are our strange customs too taboo for your liking, or do you just lack the balls to see what happens when someone different comes into town?”

“That’s it,” Twilight started, “if you refuse to comply with the Elements of Harmony, then perhaps a year or two frozen in stone with change your outlook.” And with that, Twilight began to activate her element. Jason watched in shock as the others began activating their elements as well. He realized that the mane six’s intentions were never to help them, but to reform them.
But not all was lost. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Twilight Sparkle, and Pinkie Pie all now had shimmering magic emanating from their necks, but Fluttershy’s remained dormant. She looked just about scared to death, and was on the verge of tears. Jason looked to his right and and saw that Rarity still looked as confident as ever, but more importantly her element remained as stagnant as ever.

Jason leaned over to Derek, and whispered as quietly as he could, “let me handle this. Twilight needs all six ponies to turn us into a pair of statues. She still remains two short. Dividing them further is the only thing that will secure our safety.”
Jason couldn’t tell whether Twilight was impressed by her peers courage, surprised by their disagreement, or completely outraged by their defiance. But at that moment, he didn’t care because he’d never felt so alive. If Jason had known pissing off ponies was this much fun, he would have tried to find his way into Equestria way before now.

“Generosity and compassion,” Jason said as he glared at Twilight, “something the rest of you seem to be missing.” And with that, he and Derek stormed their way out of Twilight’s house while they still could.


The erie ticking of the clock at the front of the classroom provided a never-ending reminder of limited time constraints as Jason stared blankly at his physics test. Slowly, he pondered over the first question.

Jason Statham and Denzel Washington are engaged in a fierce bowling match. Holy shit. Jason was accustomed to his teacher’s sense of humor, but this was just too weird. Still, he read on. Jason Statham can hurl an 8.0kg bowling ball with a force given by the function of time J(t) = 16t + 1.0 N for a time of .56s and release it down a lane 19m long with a coefficient of kinetic friction of .15, and Denzel Washington can hurl a 10kg bowling ball with a force given by the function of time D(t) = 3.0t2 + 1.5 N for a time of .83s and release it down a lane 18m long with a coefficient of kinetic friction of .09. Assuming both balls are sliding down their lanes without rolling, whose ball is moving faster when it hits the pins, and what is the difference in magnitudes of their velocities? Never mind. This question wasn’t funny at all. With a clusterfuck of calculus between him and the final answer, and only forty minutes remaining in the class period, Jason was worried he wouldn’t quite make it through the bowling alley from hell in time to finish the rest of the test.

It was a shame, too. Jason was so sure that just one weekend’s worth of studying would pound his brain into submission to do this kind of stuff. Perhaps chicken wings and a night out with a posse of stoners wasn’t the most efficient use of his time.
Jason still remembers the malevolent ticking of his science room’s clock all too well. Strangely, the movie star frequented, poorly regulated, and inconsistent bowling alley also sticks with him. In the time since then, Jason has yet to figure out why on earth Jason Statham’s hurling force increases at a perfectly linear rate while denzel Washington’s increases on a quadratic curve. But alas, that was never important to begin with, was it?

In short, Jason survived the test and before long was standing outside the front doors if his school, having pulled through yet another seven periods of public education. Upon arriving outside, he quickly zipped up his hoodie to shield himself from the cold. The temperature had dropped steadily since Friday, and already the city around him was starting to seem like a different world.
To his right, a flag hung at half-mast from a rusting pole that stood amidst a dying field of grass. On his left, the remaining students stood in a huddled mass situated just outside the front doors. In the first hundred feet that lay before him lay a withering front lawn, and in the second hundred feet stood several rows of religious zealots and political demonstrators who were restricted from advancing into the first hundred feet by a picket fence at the end of the lawn. That, and the grim-looking riot police that patrolled the inner hallways every few hundred feet would undoubtedly descend upon the protesters in a matter of seconds.
Jason checked his phone. Derek had already called him three times since school ended. Jason wasn’t going to be able to hang tonight.

Jason made his way to the senior parking lot on the far side of the building as he resisted making eye-contact with the loons on the opposite side of the fence. The fence itself ended with the protesters, about halfway down the side of the building, but that didn’t always stop the most persistent of the spreaders of the words of their gods, nor the change-the-worldy kind of activists.
Jason brought his hood up over his face as he passed the ending of the fence. He walked quickly, trying to get to his car as fast as possible without attracting any attention. He rounded the final corner of the building when one figure from the crowd of demonstrators at last noticed Jason. Jason began crossing the parking lot. He was gazing at the rows of tattered hand-me-down senior cars when with a slight glance back he noticed a scraggly homeless woman bundled in several layers of brown and black clothing. She was following him.

There was fresh blood from recent cuts that ran down her face. Like rivers it ran through canyons created by the wrinkles on her face, soaking up dirt as it went along. More blood oozed out from her right hand that currently clenched a vicious looking shard of glass. She had a twisted, toothless smile, and had to hold herself up against cars as she approached Jason.
Jason looked straight forward and saw that his car was five parking-spaces away from him, at the end of the lot. Jason heard a spitting, then a grunting sound coming from behind him, and decided not to look back.

He finally reached his car. He opened the door behind the driver’s seat and hurriedly threw his backpack on the seat. After entering an locking his car, Jason at last looked back at the woman. She’d been trying to say something. They usually were.