(This Story Is Read In 2nd Person)
On the other side of the dusty room, you spot the farm filly. Her moves are mechanical and her eyes look sad, as if she wasn't controlling her own body. You feel sad looking at her, and notice your other friends all sitting in a row by the wall, as if they were watching Applejack as she performed the vile dance.
You hear giggling, and your sadness morphs into fear...