Spike continued on his merry, little way, humming a jaunty tune to himself. He really liked this old, country road. It was pretty scenic and relaxing. Despite the setback he'd had with Hoops and Dumb-Bell about fifteen minutes ago, he didn't regret taking the long way to town anymore. Spike rather enjoyed taking this old back trail to town every now and again...it was usually deserted, and it was a nice way for him to unwind when he'd had a shitty day...like today. In fact, he and Rainbow had jogged down it together a few times back when the two of them had been on that exercise kick. The little dragon exhaled a sigh of relief and let his mind wander. He began replaying his fantasy about Rarity in his little head over and over. He blushed at the thought of seeing her pretty face...her lovely azure eyes and their long, elegant eyelashes...hearing her sweet voice giggling...calling him her "Widdle Spikey Wikey." He actually didn't mind his pet name's usage now and again, but he was starting to feel a bit discouraged by his rather textbook example of unrequited love. If only she could see how perfect they were for each other!...err...differences in species notwithstanding.

But it wouldn't matter in the long run...she'd see how great they'd be together! Yeah! She'd see him for who he was eventually and fall head over hooves for him! He just knew it! It was only a matter of time! (Just hang in there, buddy!) This newfound positivism had elevated Spike's mood a bit. Today wasn't turning out so bad. Maybe the gods had run out of sick pranks to play on him or something. He could almost taste those bear claws already!...but he suddenly heard something...something was rattling around in the woods next to the road. Spike stopped dead in his tracks. The crackling in the brush intensified. Something was coming towards him...something big! Spike was feeling pretty scared...hopefully it was just Fluttershy's bear snuffling around for berries or something. The big, furry lug was huge but completely harmless.

"H-hello? Is somepony there? Who's out there!?" The rustling in the brush was getting closer to the road. Spike was just a step away from panicking. He no longer felt even a smidgen of his former alpha male confidence. Had the gods discovered some new, more inventive way to ruin his day? Couldn't a dragon just catch a break?

"H-hello?! C-come on outta' there and stop messing with me!! Whoever you are!", he demanded weakly. The rustling partially obliged him, nearing even closer to where the little dragon was standing...a little dragon who was now shivering with terror. He could make out a figure in the darkness of the treeline...it looked...equine. But he couldn't be sure. The figure began to emerge from the dismal woods.

"S-stay back!! I-I know karate!!", he squeaked, as the figure in question stepped into the warm sunlight.

It was a pony. A skinny looking, grey coated Earth stallion to be precise. He had a pair of intense, blue eyes and a rather unusual manecut. The guy had shaved his head entirely...military-style. Weird. Spike could tell from the guy's short, cropped tail that his mane color was a ghostly shade of white when he grew it out. Most stallions weren't too keen on giving up their long, flowing locks like this guy had unless they were military or religious types. Spike couldn't tell which of either this guy was, if he was either at all. Spike scanned over the grey stallion's features. The guy was wearing a strangely warm smile on his face. It was almost...pleasant...placid. Peaceful. He waved Spike to come over to him...Spike wasn't so sure he should...but this dude looked harmless enough. Yeah, maybe the guy was a little weird sneaking around in the woods...but like...maybe he'd just gotten lost or something? (Then why does he look so cheery? It's kinda' creepy.) Spike ambled forward cautiously.

"Uhh...h-hello?"

"Hello, my little friend. How are you faring on this wonderful day provided to us by the Lord?", crooned the grey stallion in a pleasantly low, soothing baritone. Oh. That explained it. This guy was probably one of those Lunar/Solar cultists or something. Spike visibly relaxed. Those churchos were sometimes a little annoying and preachy, but they were staunchly pacifistic. This guy wasn't a threat.

"Uhh...I guess I'm doing alright. Thanks for asking. How're you?" He may as well be polite. There wasn't any reason he shouldn't be...right?

"Ah! It is good to hear this, my friend! I am also doing well today! Oh, the Great Staples be praised!" What? Did this guy just say something about..."staples?" Like..."office supply staples?" Whatever. He probably just misheard.

It was probably just some new name for whichever deity this guy worshiped. Something like "Stah-pells the Great" and shit. They all had funny names like that. Spike himself had ascribed to Twilight's personal brand of "hopeful agnosticism" in terms of spirituality. Honestly...even though he'd never seen evidence of there being deities and the like with his own eyes, it wouldn't be too hard to believe if one took the time to consider all the crazy shit that happened in Equestria on a daily basis. After some of the stuff he'd seen...well...magic sky people who controlled everything from the heavens wasn't all that hard a pill to swallow. But he didn't have much of a problem with ponies from either of the other two camps. He got along perfectly well with Rarity and Fluttershy who were an atheist and a theist respectively.

"Uhh...that's...nice. Um...so can I help you with something?" The skinny, grey stallion smiled warmly at him again. Hey, even if he turned out to be a religious nutbag, at least he'd be a relatively pleasant nutbag. Not at all like that one Lunar cultist Spike had come across once...some crazy, old yellow stallion in a filthy raincoat who only spoke in two volumes: loud and friggin' loud as shit.

"Oh? You are kind to ask, my little friend, but I've no need for help of any sort. The Lord is the only comfort and aid I need." At least he was nice. He didn't look like he had a single, mean bone in his body.

"Ooookaaayyy. Well...do you mind if I ask you a question, man?"

"Not at all, my dear dragon! To seek knowledge is to also seek salvation! Staples be praised!" Okay...that time...Spike was certain he'd heard this guy say "staples." But he couldn't be talking about office staples. That'd just be ridiculous!

"Um...yeah. Sure...uhh...so what were you doing in the woods there earlier?"

"Oh, I was merely reveling in the joyous bounty of Lord Staplor's creation! The trees, birds, and beasts are all blessed gifts from his divine providence!" Huh. "Staplor," eh? The guy pronounced it like "stayp-lore." Well, maybe Spike had misheard him. Regardless, this dude was probably just a harmless churcho and a tree-hugger or something who thought he was "communing with Mother Nature." Mystery solved. Case closed. Over and out. Under and in. Time to book it. He'd swung with the best of 'em, sister.

"Yeah. That's...cool. Well...I gotta' get going, man. Tell Lord Staplor I said thanks for all the divine providence and stuff." Spike started to go back on his way to town, but the grey stallion called after him.

"Just a moment, my little friend! I have a question for you now, if you wouldn't mind." Oh, great. He was probably about to ask him for church donations or try to give him a sermon or something. Oh, well...he could at least humor the guy. Then he'd head straight to the Corner for some bear claws.

"Okay. Fair enough. Shoot."

"Wonderful. My question is as follows: Have you seen the light of the Lord's salvation?" Yep. Sermon. He better just play along. There was no sense in antagonizing these types of ponies.

"Uhh...yeah. Totally. I saw it this morning actually. It was great, bro. Like you wouldn't even believe. Totally at peace with the Universe and stuff now."

"Oh, how joyous!! A fellow believer! Welcome to the flock, my brother!"

"Thanks. Yep. It's the friggin' best. Well, you have a good on-"

"As a fellow believer, would you mind if I troubled you for a mere tribute to our Lord, brother? I shan't take but a minute of your time." Eh. Whatever got this weirdo off his back and got him to Sugarcube Corner faster was fine by him.

"Okay. Sure. So what do we have to do? Say a prayer or something?"

"Oh, yes! But joining me in prayer is merely half the tribute! Now...close your eyes and take hold of my hoof. Repeat after me, brother." Spike obliged him and took hold of the grey stallion's right hoof. The guy began solemnly chanting.

"Oh, praise be to the Lord, for he is good. He guides us in the darkest of times and lights the way to salvation." Spike repeated the line. Hopefully, this wouldn't take too long.

"Lord Staplor is our shepard...our father...our mother...our sister...our cousin...our uncle...our family accountant..." Spike repeated the lines...but...wait...what the hell? Whatever. This was like a war zone. He didn't have time to question this shit.

"He is our dentist...our tax attorney...our proctologist...our cousin twice removed...our husband and wife..." Spike repeated the line of nonsensical gibberish. Whatever. He didn't have time to go back for any casualties. It was every pony for himself at this point.

"Lord Staplor is all. Lord Staplor is love. May he watch over us forever from atop his fortress of splendor..." Spike again repeated the gibberish.

"...his fortress of staples. The Great Staples be the foundation...for they are the biggest staples...smaller staples can't support that much weight..." Spike was becoming...concerned. It really sounded like this guy was talking about actual, literal staples.

"Oh, but these staples are plentiful in his holy Office Supply Closet! Such a bounty of little, malleable metal staples!! Mmmmm....SO MANY STAPLES!!! OH, YEAH!!" Spike was startled out of his "meditations" by that little outburst. Something was seriously wrong with this guy...the grey stallion's hoof began tightening it's grip on his claw. Yeah. It was about time for him to cheese it.

"Oh, and may we load the Great Staplor with this bounty of wonderful, sexy staples! SO SEXY!! AND WE SHALL STAPLE ALL THAT IS STACKED PAPER!!! OH, BABY!!" Spike began to panic. He frantically began trying to pull his claw out of the nutjob's iron grasp to no avail. He had to get away!! This guy was friggin' crazy!! He was even nuttier than AJ's creepy older brother!! He looked down at the grey nutjob's flank to check his Cutie Mark...it was...a stapler!!!! (Of course!! Of course, it is!! WHAT THE HELL ELSE WOULD IT BE?!!)

"What the hell?! Lemme' go, you weirdo!! I don't wanna' go to your freaky Staple Heaven!!" The grey stallion ignored his pleas and tightened his grasp even more...to a now painful degree. Spike winced with agony. The grey lunatic just kept his chanting his crazy bullshit with his eyes firmly shut. It was as though he'd forgotten Spike was even there.

"And then there will come a great reckoning for the non-believers!! It will be the Great Stapling!! All who are unstapled shall be stapled to something, be it to notebook paper, or cardboard, or tree, or squirrel, or coffee maker, or file cabinet, or movie projector, or house cat, or college thesis, or bottle of ADHD medication, or box of medical-grade enemas, or that 2000 BIT ENGAGEMENT RING I BOUGHT YOU THAT YOU PAWNED OFF AFTER YOU RAN OFF WITH YOUR TENNIS COACH, JANET!!!!" This guy was completely out of his mind!! The lunatic tightened his grip even further. Spike eye's began watering with tears of agony...it felt like the bones in his claw were going to break any second now. How could this skinny freak be so strong?!!

"And their suffering shall be great...for they are not of the faithful!! They've no love of staples!! They would rather defile their TPS reports and W-2 Forms with the accursed paper clips!! NAY!!! PAPER CLIPS BE THE SERVANTS OF THE GREAT GOATBAT DEMON, CHEDDARBUTT!! CHEDDARBUTT WILL CONSUME ALL THAT IS NOT STAPLED!! THE NON-BELIEVERS WILL DROWN IN A SHINY, METALLIC SEA OF UTTERLY USELESS PAPER CLIPS!!! YOU HEAR THAT, JANET?! YOU'RE GONNA' DROWN IN PAPER CLIPS, YOU LICENTIOUS WHORE!! STAPLOR CURSE YOUR NAME, YOU FOUL-SMELLING BUTTSLUT!!" The mad stallion was now screaming at the top of his lungs. It was deafening. Spike was completely terrified. But what could he do?! He couldn't get away from this crazy asshole!!

"BUT THEY ALL TOTALLY DESERVE IT FOR NOT USING STAPLES, AM I RIGHT, BROTHER?!! OH, YEAH!!! THAT REALLY GETS MY ENGINE GOIN'!!! MMMMM, BABY!! WHADDYA' THINK OF ME NOW, JANET?!! HUH?!! YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE TOO GOOOOOODDDD FOR MY RELIGION!!! YOU THOUGHT WORSHIPING A STAPLE GOD WAS CRAAAAAAZZZY!! YOU THOUGHT I WAS WEEEEIIIIRRRD WHEN I STAPLED YOUR ASSCHEEKS TOGETHER THAT ONE NIGHT YOU FELL ASLEEP DRUNK AFTER A FEW TOO MANY MAI TAIS!!! OH, YEAH?!! WEIRD, AM I?!! WELL, WHO'S GONNA' HAVE THE LAST LAUGH WHEN YOU'RE NECK-DEEP IN CRAPPY PAPER CLIPS DEEP IN THE BOWELS OF CHEDDARBUTT'S WRETCHED DESK DRAWER OF INFINITE RECTAL TORMENT?!! I'LL ANSWER THAT QUESTION FOR YA', YOU SLUTBAG!!! IT'S GONNA' BE ME!! AHAHAHAHAH!!!!" Spike was desperate now. Who knew what this psycho would do to him!? He had to do something!! Wait...he was a dragon, right? Yeah!! That was it!!

"...ALWAYS ON MY BACK ABOUT EVERY LITTLE, GODDAMN THING, TOO!! "Jeffrey...don't staple the cat to the sofa!"..."Jeffrey...don't huff gasoline in the garage!"..."Jeffrey...don't pole vault over fence into the neighbor's yard with a lawn rake!"..."Jeffrey...don't shoot the neighbors' dog with a flaming crossbow!"..."Jeffrey...don't smuggle staplers you stole from the office in your rectum!"..."Jeffrey...take your anti-psychotic meds!" WELL, YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO ANYMORE, YOU SCORPION MARE!! I DON'T NEED YOUR DAMNED MEDICATION!! FROM HERE ON OUT, I SHALL DECIDE WHAT IS AND ISN'T REALITY!!! YA' HERE ME?! AND THAT GODDAMN DOG DESERVED WHAT HE GOT FOR INSULTING MY NEW PAIR OF KHAKI DRESS SLACKS!! THEY WERE REALLY NICE SLACKS, TOO!! THEY HAD THAT PLASTIC WEAVE IN THEM THAT MADE THEM WATERPROOF!! IT WAS AWESOME!! YOU COULD SPILL AN ENTIRE CUP OF COFFEE ALL OVER THEM AND NOT GET A SINGLE STAIN!!! STAPLOR BE PRAISED!!!"

Well...apparently this guy's name was "Jeffrey"...Spike wasn't all that sure how useful that information would be. Maybe the police would want that kind of intel after they found pieces of his hacked up corpse scattered all over these woods. Now wasn't that a cheery thought? This guy had a pretty firm grip on Spike's claw, but he took advantage of his psychotic acquaintance's preoccupation with whom he presumed was the stallion's former fiancé...and...a pair of...waterproof slacks?...and breathed a hot gout of lime green fire onto the crazed stallion's hoof that was crushing his claw. And...the lunatic didn't even flinch!! And his entire foreleg was on fire!! What in the holy hell?!!!

"OOOOHHH, BAAAABBBY!!!! YEAH!! YA' FEEL THAT, BROTHER?!! IT'S THE PIOUS FLAMES OF LORD STAPLOR'S PROVIDENCE!!"

Spike twisted and flailed his little body in a desperate attempt to free himself from the crazed stallion's now burning grasp. The green flames licked all the way down the lunatics hoof, touching Spike's own claw...it was a good thing dragons were fireproof. But not this guy...no. Spike could smell the awful stench of the loony's burning coat wafting into his nostrils followed by the even more hideous stench of burning flesh. The little dragon fought to retain control of his queasy stomach. But the nasty smells and nausea were the least of his worries at this point.

"What the hell, man!!? Lemme' go!!" No good. This nutjob seemed to have near superequine strength or something. Spike may as well have been trying to wrestle himself free from a gorilla's bear hug. This lunatic was a hell of a lot more dangerous than those two idiots he'd dealt with twenty minutes ago. But thankfully...the crazed stallion's shouting suddenly quieted into a soft chant. His crushingly strong grip on Spike's claw relaxed...

"And...in the end...after the Great Stapling had passed...all had become stapled in Lord Staplor's image. All was well and good. All of equinity joined hooves and rejoiced. And so it shall be...forever and ever...amen." Was it over? Apparently, so as the grey stallion let go of Spike's aching claw entirely, dropping him to the ground with a dull Thud! Spike quickly began planning his escape while massaging his throbbing claw. He wasn't about to hang around here for this crazy a-hole's next sermon! Spike looked up to see that the lunatic's foreleg had stopped burning and was now emitting a foul-smelling smoke. The guy acted like he didn't even notice it. (Seriously...what...the...HELL!!??)

"Ah...oh, but how marvelous! Wasn't that ever so relaxing, brother? It always brings me peace to praise Lord Staplor and his creations.", exhaled the grey stallion in a relieved, satisfied tone that sounded like he'd just had a massive bowel movement after a solid week of constipation. And...no. Spike did not at all find any of that relaxing. The little dragon rose to his feet and slowly...cautiously...began backing away from "Jeffrey the Staple Freak."

"Y-yeah! S-ure!! Whatever! S-so what? Are we done here now?! Can I go?!" Spike turned away from the grey freak and surveyed his escape route down the dusty, old country road...how far was it to the outskirts of town? Could he get away in time? The little dragon turned back towards Jeffrey...to find him now wielding a big, red stapler in his charred forehoof with an utterly psychotic grin on his slate grey features. Where the hell did he even get that thing from?! He didn't have any saddlebags with him!!

"Oh, not yet, my brother! As I said before, the prayer was only half of our tribute to the Lord!", said the grey freak as he stepped menacingly towards the little dragon on his two rear hooves, his stapler held out in front of him. Spike didn't like where this was going. Not one bit. And...he again pondered from whence this guy had procured said stapler...his thoughts turned back to this guy's crazy rant about his ex-fiancé...something about smuggling staplers out of his office...oh. Gross.

"C-c'mon! Quit hasslin' me, bro!!" And sure enough...Spike could see that the big, red stapler was coated in a slimey, white substance...it was...mayonnaise?!! (WHAT?!!) Why mayonnaise?! Had he run out of petroleum jelly or something?! And that was a pretty decent-sized stapler, too! How'd he even manage to fit that whole thing inside his as-

"NAY!! I'm afraid not, my brother!! Hassle you, I must...for...you see...I know what is best for you! For you and your salvation! Just like how that stupid SLUT JANET TRIED TO HAVE ME COMMITTED!!! SHE THOUGHT SHE KNEW WHAT WAS BEST FOR ME!!! WHAT LIES!!! SHE ONLY WANTED TO STEAL ALL MY STAPLERS FOR HERSELF WHILE I WAS AWAY!!! WELL, I SHOWED HER, RIGHT?!! I STAPLED HER BUTT SO GOOD, GURL!!!!" Apparently, he'd returned to the "screaming psychotically about his ex" portion of his sermon. Neat. He'd really missed that part. Spike was beginning to see two recurring elements with this guy: stapling things to other things...and butts. He even combined the two together sometimes...which was why Spike was feeling especially anxious to get away from this weirdo. He just continued slowly backing away from the grey lunatic with no sudden movements like he would with a bear or something.

"W-what...what are ya' gonna' do to me?", he squeaked in a voice riddled with terror.

"I think you know what must be done, brother." Oh, no. No.

"Y-you're not gonna'...staple my buttcheeks together, are you?!!" No! Anything but that! Spike liked his butt! It was a great butt! It'd served him faithfully for years! He could sit on it for hours and neither cheek would fall asleep or get numb or anything! You couldn't just go and defile the sanctity of a dude's butt like that! It was just...wrong! There should be a law or something against it!!...in fact...Spike was pretty sure there already was a law against it! Well...there should be two laws against it!

"What?! No! Of course not! Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to staple your butt. Sheesh.", replied the grey lunatic in a completely deadpan, uncharacteristically rational voice as though he'd just been asked a really stupid question or something. Spike relaxed. At least his butt was safe...but...

"Oh...then wh-"

"NO, IMMA' STAPLE YOUR FACE!!!" That was all Spike needed to hear. Jeffrey had made his intentions abundantly clear...and so, too, would Spike. He turned on his heels and took off running down the old, dirt trail as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him. Spike looked back over his shoulder to see if the nutjob was gaining on him...what? The skinny, grey fruitcake was still standing in the same spot, holding his stapler over his head! Was he not going to chase him? Maybe he wouldn-

"OOOOOOOGAHLOOOGAHLOOO!!!!! STAPLE TIME!!! STAPLES FOR THE LORD!!! STAPLES IN THE MORNIN', STAPLES IN THE EVENIN', STAPLES AT SUPPERTIME! WHEN A STAPLER IS YOUR SAVIOR, YOU CAN HAVE STAPLES ANYTIME!!! OOOOOOOGAHLOOOGAHLOOO!!!!!", shouted the mad stallion in a bizarre, whooping battle cry as he finally decided to give chase. This didn't look good. Spike had about half the length of stride as this freak, and he was more than a little bit out of shape. He was already huffing and puffing after only thirty seconds of running. He looked back over his shoulder...he wished he hadn't...

"STAPLE, STAPLE, STAPLE, STAPLE!!! YEAH!!! IMMA' STAPLE YOUR EYES AND YOUR NOSE AND YOUR MOUTH AND YOUR CHEEKS!!! IMMA' STAPLE YOU SO GOOD!! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW, GURL!!!!", screamed Jeffrey while rapidly clicking his stapler. This weirdo had almost caught up with Spike even after his generous head start! The mad, grey stallion was rapidly gaining on him, striding forward on his long hind legs in a dead sprint. The nutjob had adopted an even more psychotic glare in his wide, blue eyes and was biting his lower lip as though he really had to take a tinkle or something. This wasn't good.

"*huff*...*huff*...leave me...*huff*...alone, you freak!!! *huff*...*huff*...get bent, you weirdo!!" Hey, if he was going down, he was going down swinging!...or...screaming insults...from a distance. Whatever. Still counts.

Another quick survey of his pursuer's progress revealed that the psycho was only a few feet away from Spike and still gaining!! The grey stallion was spasmodically flailing both his forelegs around in the air over his head like one of those inflatable tube guys Spike sometimes saw outside used carriage dealerships. He was splattering white globules of mayonnaise all over the road with each flailing of the stapler in his charred left hoof. That was an additional incentive for Spike to book it. He hated mayonnaise. He didn't much relish the idea of coming in contact with some nasty-ass egg paste...let alone some nasty-ass egg paste that had just been inside some crazy guy's butt not five minutes ago!. But he couldn't keep this up for long...he looked behind his shoulder again...Jeffrey was only a foot away!! The mad stallion held out his free hoof, reaching to grab hold of Spike's mauve tail. The little dragon felt the weirdo's hoof graze the tip of one his tail's green spines...

"OOOOOOOGAHLOOOGAHLOOO!!!!! LET US JOIN IN JOYOUS STAPLEAGE, MY BROTHER!!! STAPLE, STAPLE, STAPLE, STAPLE!!!" Well...this was it. (Goodbye, cruel world!!!)

Spike knew he was boned. (But there was so much more I wanted to do in life!!) Well...at least he'd lived himself a pretty good life already, right? (But I'm only twelve years old!!) Hey, it was a "good" life. Not a "long" life. He couldn't believe it was going to end like this...after all the crazy ways he could have bitten the "Big One" helping Twilight and her friends save Equestria, this was how he was going to give up the ghost?! Being stapled to death on an deserted, old road...by some...spastic, staple-obsessed freak?! It was so unfair!! This wasn't even a cool way to die!! It would look completely retarded chiseled on his tombstone!! ("Here lies Spike the Dragon. His young life was cut tragically short by an escaped mental patient with a stapler. Yeah, he was pretty embarrassed about it, too.") And that was even only if somepony found his body out here in the middle of nowhere...a little corpse...riddled with hundreds of staples...(Dammit! It still sounds stupid!...Twilight...I'm sorry I was such a jerk...Fluttershy...I'm sorry I tried to sell Angel to that chef from Prance...Rarity...I wish...I wish I coulda' gotten the courage to ask you out...I always wanted to tell you...tell how much I loved...oh, God...I'm sorry, everypony...) Spike had made peace with himself and his demons. He was ready for the Void. But...the sudden sound of something heavy crashing and rolling on the ground behind him caught his attention...he turned around...

"Woah!!...*huff* *huff*...holy crap!!...*huff* *huff*...he just tripped and totally faceplanted on the friggin' road!!...*huff* *huff*...alright!!!" Luck was back on his side!! Finally!! He actually had a chance now! The nutjob was laying face down on the road...he wasn't moving...hey, maybe he wouldn-ah. Nope. He was getting back up.

"DO NOT RUN FROM YOUR SALVATION, BROTHER!! DON'T YOU KNOW THE VERY SEAMS OF THE HEAVENS THEMSELVES ARE HELD TOGETHER BY STAPLES?!!! IT'S TRUE!! I READ IT IN A TABLOID ONCE!!" (Yep. Here we go again.)

The crazed stallion had risen to his hooves and had resumed his pursuit...Spike looked at the guy's left rear leg...woah! The grey limb was grotesquely swollen and twisted at an unnatural angle! This guy had just twisted the hell out of his ankle! But he was still limping after Spike as though nothing had even happened...thankfully, he was now moving at only half his original pace. Spike could stay ahead of him now, which was good...seeing as he was about to pass out. Slowly but surely, the skinny, grey form of Jeffrey the Staple Freak was getting farther and farther away until it disappeared entirely from Spike's view. Yeah! He'd just left that sucker in the dust! Now all he needed to do was find his way into town and get help. After all, who was to say this psycho wouldn't keep coming after him? How far was he from the town's outskirts? He looked down the road as he jogged, huffing and puffing as he went. (Well...at least I'm getting some good cardio today.) There was something just down the trail...

Spike could see a small, dark shape in the middle of the road...it was...a dog? Huh? Was it wild or something? Well, it couldn't be any more dangerous than the freak he'd just left behind him. Maybe it was friendly. Maybe he could even sic it on that grey weirdo to buy himself some more time. As he got closer to the mutt, he could make out it's features a bit better. It looked like some mongrel breed of dark brown pitbull...and something else...maybe an English bulldog? The mutt was just sitting in the middle of the road, blankly watching Spike as he approached it. He got close enough to get a good look at it.

It was indeed some sort of mixed breed pitbull, as he'd initially guessed with a mangy-looking dark brown coat and a pair of creepy, yellow eyes...eyes that were...completely crossed! Seriously! This mangy thing had goofier-looking eyes than that little, grey mailmare who kept flying face first into the mailbox outside the library. The dog's fur was disgusting...Spike could patches of rough, yellowed scabs protruding randomly from all over the dog's body. He could see a set of nipples underneath the mangy cur's belly...it was female. Okay...neat. Well, clearly this nasty mutt didn't look too receptive to becoming Spike's new, best friend, so he'd better just be on his way...

"Uhh...nice doggy...good doggy...I'm just gonna' slide on past you and be on my way...ya' know. If that's cool with you..." But apparently, it wasn't cool with her. The mangy, cross-eyed bitch bared her teeth and growled viciously as Spike tried to pass her.

"Woah! Chill!! Nice doggy!! Good doggy!! I just wanna' get past you, and you can get back to...whatever the hell you were doing!" The wall-eyed bitch was having none of it. She bared her fangs again and began barking and snarling at the little dragon. Spike suddenly lamented the fact that he'd never been very good with animals. Regardless, this wasn't good. If he didn't find a way past this stupid mutt, that staple-obsessed weirdo was going to catch up to him!

"C'mon!! Get outta' my way, you stupid dog!! I'm in a hurry!!" The mangy pitbull merely snarled in response, baring her frighteningly sharp, nasty-looking fangs again. (Woah!! Those are...*gulp*...some pretty big teeth...) Spike had a pretty tough, leathery dragon hide, but he wasn't willing to test it's toughness against those choppers. Those fangs looked like they could chew through a goddamn refrigerator door! But he had get going. And fast. How long would it be before that grey fruitcake caught up with him?

"Please!! Just let me through!! I'll bring you back a dog bone from the pet store! I promise!"

And he would, too. Spike was by no means a saint, but he always kept his promises...no matter how much he was loath to do so. But the dumb bitch only continued snarling and snapping her jaws at him. Apparently, being a dog went hand-in-hand with being incapable of reason. Spike looked back over his shoulder...oh...crap. He could see the familiar, grey form of Jeffrey tirelessly hobbling down the road in spasmodic pursuit of the little dragon. Didn't this guy know when to quit?! Didn't he have anything else better to do than chase him around all day?! Couldn't he find a hobby or something?! Well...a...non-staple related hobby? He could hear Jeffrey's freaky, staple-themed battle cry getting louder as he drew nearer...

"STAPLE, STAPLE,STAPLE, STAPLE,STAPLE, STAPLE, STAPLE, STAPLE!!!" Seriously? Seriously? The friggin' laws of probability stated that his luck had to get better at some point! Apparently, those laws didn't apply to Spike! The little dragon was close to entering panic mode. He began frantically weighing his options...(Mauled to death?!...stapled to death?!...mauled to death?!...stapled to death?! Dammit! I don't which is worse!!)

"Awww, c'mon!!! You gotta' be kiddin' me!!!" The situation was looking a bit dire.

Spike realized he was now sandwiched between a vicious dog and a complete lunatic with little hope in sight of coming out of it all alive. Jeffrey was less than a few yards away now, and this damn mutt wasn't about to let him past her without taking a big chunk out of his ass. This really seemed liked some sort of tragic comedy now. He really hoped the gods were getting a good laugh out of all this. Honestly...they kind of deserved it at this point. This was a pretty creative scenario they'd contrived for his demise. In fact, you could color him impressed! They didn't just settle for a sudden rainstorm while he was out in the middle of an open field or a bloody band-aid in his sandwich! No, siree!! They really went all out with this one!!

"Oh, yeah! This is just great! Freakin' great! This is exactly how I always pictured going out!!" Really! Great! Maybe that meteorite was on it's way right now, too! That'd be the only way this farcical romp could become anymore doomed.

And it was made all the more brilliant by how the gods had even given him some false hope by making that staple freak trip like that!! Magnificent. Really. No, really! No, seriously! Bravo!! They deserved some kudos!! His hat was off to them! Oh, he didn't have a hat?! No freakin' problem!! He could just hop on down to the store and buy one to-oh, no, wait!!! He couldn't freakin' do that because he was about to freakin' die in the middle of nowhere getting gang-raped by a goddamn pitbull and an office supply-themed psychopath!!! And it was all because the the powers that be didn't seem to have anything more interesting or productive to do with their time THAN MAKE HIS LIFE A LIVING HELL!!!!!!

"NO, BROTHER!! NOOOOO!!! IT'S THE VILE DEMON, CHEDDARBUTT!!! HE'S TAKEN HIS CANINE FORM TO DECEIVE YOU!!! HE STALKS THIS ROAD TO HUNT DOWN AND URINATE ON THE FAITHFUL!!! I'LL SAVE YOU!!! BY STAPLING YOU INTO ETERNITY!!! YOU'LL THANK ME LATER, TRUST ME!!!" Spike doubted he would feel any form of gratitude towards this guy for stapling his mouth to his snout or something.

Great. Apparently, Jeffrey had somehow managed to squeeze the cross-eyed mutt into one of his many, many, many....many...many, many psychotic delusions. What else in the real world had he managed to make canonical with his batshit crazy fantasies? Spike kind of wondered what it'd be like to see the world through this lunatic's eyes. It'd probably be pretty terrifying at first, but hey...at least it'd be interesting. The grey freak seemed to make even the most mundane thing a part of his fantasies...like taking his irrational obsession with staplers and turning it into the basis for a new (but retarded) religion he just made up on the fly. He could probably make even the most dull, pedestrian bit of drudgery that most ponies despised doing (like...well...pretty much like just about anything Twilight loves doing...) look like it was full of wonder and mystery.

Spike had to admit...that took some legitimate creativity. He'd actually pay to read this guy's memoirs. Jeffrey would make a great short story author with that insane imagination of his. Maybe he could even become one of the new screenwriters for the next Batmare movie. He couldn't do a worse job than that last bunch of writers. A goddamn drunken chimpanzee could have put together a better script than the one those idiots crapped out. That god-awful script pretty much killed the entire movie. Spike had only been able to sit through twenty minutes of that train wreck. Honestly, he was surprised the projectionist hadn't found just a big, steaming turd in the film's reel case when he'd tried to roll it for the movie premiere. But wasn't he forgetting something? Oh, yeah. Right. Getting chased by a dog and a staple-themed weirdo. Yep. He was probably about to die horribly or something...probably by getting chewed to death while having his eyes stapled shut and the like. It really seemed like overkill for just one, baby dragon.

"LEAVE HIM BE, YOU VILE CREATURE!! CURSE YOU, CHEDDARBUTT!! DON'T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE, MAN!!! I'LL SMITE YOU WITH MY SMITIN' STICK!!" What "stick" was this lunatic talking about? He was holding a stapler...not a stick.

And now that grey fruitcake was closing in on him even further. He had to get past this nasty-ass dog...that smelled pretty awful now that Spike was close enough to unfortunately catch a whiff of her. She smelled like sour ass sweat that had been fermenting for a month in a fat guy's unwashed buttcrack. That alone was incentive enough for the little dragon to put some distance between himself and this nasty mongrel. Spike tried feigning left to throw the ugly mutt off and slip past her from the right, but she didn't fall for it. He tried pointing over into the forest and saying "Hey, look over there!!" to divert her attention to make an opening. Nope. No cigar. How did he somehow manage to encounter the world's most focused and dedicated guard dog at a time like this?!! A cross-eyed...ass-smelling...mangy as hell guard dog who was guarding nothing except for an empty dirt road for no discernible reason?!!!

"Awww, c'mon! Can't a dragon catch a break?!! Just one freakin' break?!! This is bullcrap!!" On a side note, "Cheddarbutt" was as fitting a name as any for the mangy bitch, seeing as to how she smelled like an old garbage bag full of dog turds and moldy cheese. In short...not pleasant.

He had to think of something...anything!! Jeffrey was only a stone's throw away now! Spike frantically assessed his situation...hey! Why not try getting off the road and go try his luck in the woods? He'd have a better chance finding a place to hide in there, as dark as it was. Maybe he could climb a tree or something? That lunatic probably couldn't climb up after him with that busted leg of his and neither could that stupid dog. Yeah! At least he'd have a chance then! And if the dynamic duo decided to hang around at the base of the tree all night or something, Spike could just wait it out. Eventually, somepony would come looking for him. Hopefully, it'd be Constable Steelheart. Jeffrey and Cheddarbutt wouldn't stand a chance against that guy! He'd wipe the floor with 'em! But...he needed to distract this stupid dog to buy enough time to get some distance between them in case she decided to chase him...wait. How in the hell did he keep forgetting he was a dragon?! Honestly, it was starting to concern him. Was he having another identity crisis? Maybe it had something to do with living with ponies his entire life.

"This is your last chance, you stupid mutt!! Get outta' my way or else!!"

Cheddarbutt opted for the "else" provision of Spike's ultimatum and continued snarling viciously at the little dragon. Oh, well. She asked for it. He took a deep breath blew a big lungful of green fire at the ground in front of the nasty mongrel. She yelped and darted away from the flames' intense heat, giving Spike the opening he needed to dart past her. He pushed himself to the very edge of his limits, running seemingly faster than he ever had in his young life. He felt as though his heart would explode any second from sheer exertion, as he left Cheddarbutt and Jeffrey behind him...but not for long. The mangy, cross-eyed pitbull decided to give chase. And she was moving a lot faster than that limping psychopath! Before long, Cheddarbutt was practically nipping at his hills. Spike thought about how antelopes got away from cheetahs in the Zebrican savannah. Didn't they do some sort of fancy, evasive maneuver or something? It couldn't hurt to try it now. He was about to get his ass bitten off one way or another anyway.

"Serpentine!! *huff* *huff* Serpentine!!", he yelled while running in erratic zigzags. Aaaannndd...it didn't work.

Spike's fancy footwork didn't seem to have even remotely thrown off the mangy mutt. In fact, it'd just shortened the distance between the two of them even more! Those friggin' antelopes were all retarded! They deserved to get eaten! How come they weren't all extinct already?! What was he going to do now? He looked to his left and to his right, surveying the deep woods running parallel to both sides of the road. The brush was too thick for Spike to try busting through. He needed to find an opening or something, if he wanted to have even a snowball's chance in hell of shaking his pursuers. Ah! He could see a small branching path coming up down the road! It had a small white sign that was labeled..."Sweet Apple Acres!!" Perfect! He was saved! He'd completely forgotten that this old road connected to the main drag towards the farm! If he got treed overnight, AJ or somepony would probably find him in the morning on their way into town. His luck was turning for the better! (Wait! No! Don't jinx it!!)

Spike pushed himself even harder. It was only just a bit further...he was close now. Cheddarbutt was hot on his heels, but he thought he could make it. He could even see a massive, old pine tree just on the inside of the branching path that'd be a perfect place to hide from Jeffrey! He just had to get there before this stupid dog chewed his legs off. But he could make it. As long as he stayed just a few feet ahead her, he'd probably have time enough to scale the tree. That nutjob down the road was now a secondary concern. What was he gonna' do, huh? Staple the tree trunk and scream at him all day? Maybe there were even some pine cones up the old evergreen that he could use as missiles to brain his pursuers. Spike had been hit in the head with a pine cone once. He didn't want to repeat the experience.

Well...that still probably wouldn't do much to ward off Jeffrey, but that stupid dog clearly responded to pain. She could consider it payback for giving him so much hell today. Well, he was about to see if he'd even have a chance for revenge, as his turn was coming up on his right. Spike pivoted sharply on his heels and cut the rounded edge of the trail's corner, turning right and sprinting down the branching path. The big pine tree in question was right in front of him...Spike could see a large, grey boulder sitting up against the side of the tree. The boulder was slanting upwards toward the tree trunk, almost forming a makeshift stepping stool of sorts. Well...wasn't that just grand? Hopefully, this wasn't just another feigned bit luck from his dark overlords meant to set him up for another cruel joke. Regardless, he'd take it.

Spike rocketed up the tree faster than he thought himself ever capable, using his claws to scale it like a cat. He didn't stop climbing to look down until he'd reached about 3/4 of the way to the top of the tree. His heart was pounding, and he was sucking wind like crazy...but at least he'd have a chance to catch his breath now. He picked out a sturdy-looking tree limb to sit on, as he pulled back the needled, evergreen foliage to get a look at his surroundings. He could see...the farm far off in the distance...and Ponyville even farther. Damn. Well...at least he was safe up here. He looked down at the base of the tree at his canine tormentor. Cheddarbutt was standing on the slope of the boulder and barking up the tree like an idiot. At this rate, she'd tip that psychopath off as to where Spike was hiding. It was almost as though the duo were unwittingly playing the roles of "hound" and "hunter." Whether they liked each other or not, those two were made for one another.

Spike now knew how raccoons felt getting hunted like this. It was too bad that there weren't any good-sized pine cones in this tree to chuck down at that mangy furball to shut her up. But...whatever. Chillaxing up in this tree was still a hell of a lot better than being chased for...how far had he run to get here? It had to be at least four to five miles! Wow. Spike was impressed with himself. He'd never run that far before...but it'd probably only been made possible by all that adrenaline he had pumping in his veins. He patted his belly. Huh. Maybe he'd burned an inch or two off his waistline with this whole ordeal. That'd be a nice consolation, albeit it'd only be a modest one. Spike wondered where that crazy buttwad had gone off to...he couldn't see the staple-obsessed weirdo on the road anymore. But he could hear a voice...yep. It was Jeffrey alright. The mad stallion's stapley cries were getting closer...

"Staple, staple, staple, staple, staple, staple, staple, staple, STAPLE, STAPLE, STAPLE, STAPLE, staple, staple, staple, staple, staple, staple!!!!!....", he screamed, his voice performing a textbook example of the "Doppler Effect."

The idiot had just lumbered right past Spike's hiding place!! Didn't he notice the friggin' dog barking at the top of it's lungs?! Well, that was a relief. Now he just had to play the "waiting game." He doubted he could wait long enough for Cheddarbutt to bored and leave...seeing as to how she'd probably been guarding that one stretch of road for hours...but he could wait long enough for Twilight or somepony else to get worried and come looking for him. He sighed in relief. It was all going to turn out okay after all. The little dragon took the opportunity to catch his breath now that he wasn't running for his life anymore. It was a good thing he was a dragon. Dragons were reptilian, ergo they had no sweat glands. They didn't need them anyway. Reptiles didn't overheat and had slow metabolisms...unlike mammals. They were cold-blooded and completely immune to high temperatures. Which was kind of neat in the summer...but not nearly so much in the winter. If Spike didn't have fire breath, he probably would have frozen to death a long time ago. The little dragon looked back down at his unwanted, canine compatriot...

Cheddarbutt was still there and still barking her stupid head off. Let her. He hoped she barked so loud that her throat would be as sore as Dumb-Bell's mom's crotch after coming home from "work" the next day. (Oh!! Zing!! You just got burned!!) Spike was no longer worried about the pitbull alerting that staple guy and revealing his hiding spot now that the lunatic was a long way down the road. So let the smelly mutt bark her freakin' head off. He didn't care. He could stay up here all day, if he had to! Not that he really wanted to do that. This branch he was sitting on was really uncomfortable. The pine bark on this branch was almost as rough and flaky as Dumb-Bell's mom's crotch and work ethic respectively. (Zing again!! This burn's going on tour today, son!! Where's the tour bus gonna' stop next?!) Spike squirmed and repositioned his posterior on the branch to get comfortable. No good. He groaned in exasperation. (Why does absolutely everything have to suck today?!!) Hey, it wasn't his posterior's fault! It was a great posterior! He'd been happily sitting on it for years now. In fact, it was one of Spike's most beloved past times. He loved nothing more tha-uh oh. The little dragon had just noticed a familiar shape coming back this way. It looked like Jeffrey had decided to retrace his steps to find him. He could even hear the insane stallion's psychotic cries in the distance getting louder as he lumbered closer...

"OOOOOOOGAHLOOOGAHLOOO!!!!!staple, staple, staple,staple, staple, staple,STAPLE, STAPLE, STAPLE,STAPLE, STAPLE, STAPLE!!!!!" The crazy a-hole had heard the barking and managed to find where Spike was hiding. He was almost to the tree now, shouting his ephemerally decipherable gibberish as he approached. Great. As though Cheddarbutt's noisy ass wasn't already giving Spike a big enough headache. The cross-eyed pitbull diverted her attention from barking up the pine tree to snarling at the approaching lunatic.

"BROTHER!! BROTHER, ARE YOU THERE!!? CURSE YOU, VILE CREATURE!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HIM!!!? ANSWER ME, YOU FILTHY BEAST!!! OH!!! W-WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!! YOU...YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW!! OH, YEAH?!! WELL, I'M RUBBER, YOU'RE GLUE! YOUR WORDS BOUNCE OFF ME AND STICK BACK TO YOU!!!" Apparently, ole' Jeffy and Cheddarbutt were having a contest of "Let's see who can make the most ear-splitting noise for the longest...or at least until Spike's brain melts." And the grey stallion was definitely winning...and...also arguing with a snarling pitbull as though it were talking to him...Spike suddenly felt rather depressed that this was one of the least bizarre things he'd seen today.

"CURSE YOUR NAME, CHEDDARBUTT!! AND CURSE YOUR LEGS! AND MOUTH! AND EARS! AND EYES! AND ALL THE REST A' YA', YA' DUMB SKANK!!!" Well, ole Jeffy didn't seem too intimidated by the mangy furball, though that certainly didn't stop her from continuously trying to frighten him off. Spike was actually looking forward to this confrontation. From what he'd seen of their interactions up to this point, he could tell that the dog and stallion were arch enemies or something. It ought to be a pretty good show. He might as well watch. It wasn't as though he had anything else better to do up here in this tree than watch these two idiots duke it out...well...that and keep trying to find a comfortable spot to sit on this branch...in what was quickly becoming an exercise in futility.

"WHERE HAVE YOU IMPRISONED MY BROTHER, DEMON?!!! WHERE?!! WON'T TALK, EH?!! VERY WELL THEN, CHEDDARBUTT!!! SO BE IT!!! THEN LET THIS BE OUR FINAL BATTLE!!! C'MERE!!! IMMA' BOP YOU ONE, GURL!!!" Spike quietly guessed who'd be the victor. (Jeffrey. Claws down.)

Spike really had his money on the staple guy. Even though that dog had some gnarly-ass teeth, you really couldn't do much against a crazy guy with freakish super strength and a complete immunity to pain. That didn't stop the dog from charging him anyway, though. Much to Spike's surprise, the stapley freak headbutted the dog in mid-air!...knocking her back down to the ground with a yelp. Before she could fully rise to her feet, Jeff had already closed in on her. He popped her one in the face with his free hoof, knocking her back down on her ass. Spike was surprised he hadn't tried to staple her right then and there or something. The mad stallion then grabbed the mutt by the furry nape of her mange-covered neck and lifted her into the air. She began whining in fear. Was he going to staple her now? Spike had a feeling he'd never look at staplers/staples the same way again. He'd probably develop some sort of rare, staple-related form of PTSD after this was all over. He probably wouldn't be able to so much as look at a stapler without having flashbacks and hearing this lunatic's crazy whooping call in his head. ("OOOOOOOGAHLOOOGAHLOOO!!!!!" Oh...God...it's horrible...it's already happening!!)

"HAHA!!!! EXCELSIOR!! I AM VICTORIOUS!!! STAPLES BE PRAISED!!! AND NOW, FOUL DEMON,...NOW...I SHALL BANISH YOU BACK TO YOUR INFERNAL DESK DRAWER!! TELL JANET I SAID "HI" FOR ME WHEN YA' GET THERE!!...AND THAT I FAKED EVERY ORGASM!!!!" Spike really didn't need to hear that last part. He already had enough subject material for his inevitable future night terrors.

"SAYONARA!!!", screamed Jeffrey the Staple Freak as he tossed Cheddarbutt into the air and...and...literally punted her like a football!!! Like a field goal!!!

The mangy mutt went sailing off into the distance with a howl, completely clearing the treeline!! She must have flown the length of a football field at the very least!!! Spike hadn't even been able to see where she landed!!! The little dragon was at a complete loss for words...a turn of phrase that was rapidly losing it's meaning today. He just sat there in his hiding spot with his mouth agape. Could anypony really blame him, though?! Spike wasn't all that sure what he'd been expecting from a complete psychopath like this guy...well...in the granted exception of maybe stapling something...but it sure as hell hadn't been anything like that!!! He almost felt sorry for the stupid mutt...almost. Were it any other dog getting punted into the stratosphere like that, he would have felt pretty bad...but not her. The staple freak began manically hopping around and calling out for his "brother," flailing his forehooves about while crashing around in the brush near Spike's pine tree. The little dragon covered his mouth to quiet his breathing. He wasn't completely sure that this guy couldn't climb up after him. No sense in taking a chance on something like that.

"WHERE ARE YOU, MY LITTLE, DRAGON BROTHER?!! YOU CAN COME OUT NOW!!! I HAVE VANQUISHED THE FOUL DEMON!! YOU ARE SAFE NOW!! NOW WE CAN STAPLE OURSELVES INTO SALVATION!!" Spike crossed his fingers, praying the freak wouldn't start shaking the pine tree or something. But no...Jeffrey didn't even check the pine tree...he went straight for the boulder leaning up against the tree trunk.

"BROTHER!!! ARE YOU UNDER THERE?!! YOU NEEDN'T HIDE BENEATH THIS ROCK ANY LONGER!!! ALL IS WELL!!!", shouted the crazy bastard...as he effortlessly flipped the easily 2,000 lbs. boulder upside down with his one, free hoof!!!!

How?!!! What the hell was this guy!!? The only other pony who could do something like that was AJ's nutso older brother...who now really...kind of seemed...well-adjusted in comparison to this particular nutso. Seriously, though!! What was this guy?!! Was he a freakin' cyborg?! A cyborg created in the future and sent back in time to stop some sort of staple-related catastrophe from happening in his time!? And programmed to be nuttier than squirrel poop? And utterly obsessed with stapling things to other things?!! And there was something else, too...why in God's name did this weirdo check for Spike underneath the giant...massively heavy...impossible-to-move-and-he-would-likely-be-completely-squashed-flat-anyway-were-he-even-able-to-manage-such-a-feat boulder? Once again...Spike suddenly felt rather depressed that this was just another example of one of the least bizarre things he'd seen today. Honestly, he was getting pretty hardened to this guy's weirdness. After today, the little dragon wouldn't know what the hell to believe was possible/impossible anymore. Didn't matter much, though. After all this, nothing could surprise him anymore. If Spike found out that this skinny, grey psycho's farts sounded like country music and smelled like pine cleaner, he wouldn't be even remotely shocked.

"BROTHER?! Huh. I guess he's not here. Hmm. Wonder where he went...ah! I know! He must have evaded that vile demon and fled down that other road! Wonderful! Well, I suppose I'll just be on my way then. Shouldn't be too difficult to catch up with him. Well, then...now that all that mess is settled, I guess IT'S TIME TO TUNE IN TO THE MOTHERSHIP!!! EXCELSIOR!!! WELCOME TO STATION CHANNEL 99.9, "THE STAPLER!!" ALL STAPLE MUSIC, ALL STAPLE TIME!" I'M YOUR HOST, DJ JAZZY JEFF McSTAPLETITS, AND THIS HERE'S MY MAIN MAN, CHARLIE LA GRRRRRRRAPADORA!! ¡A HUEVO! VAMOS A HACER ESTO!! YOU GOT IT, MAN!! START US OFF WITH A TRACK, CHARLIE!! WE BUILT THIS CITY!! WE BUILT THIS CITY ON STAAAAAAPPPLES! YEAH, BUILT THIS CITY! WE BUILT THIS CITY ON STAAAAPPPLES!! ALRIGHTY, THEN! LET'S GET THIS PLACE REALLY JUMPIN'! HIT US WITH ANOTHER TUNE, CHARLIE, MY MAN!! PLAY US SOMETHIN' A LITTLE FUNKY!! NO HAY PROBLEMA, MI AMIGO!! SHE'S A VERY STAPLEY GIIIIIRRRRLL!!! THE KIND YOU DON'TTAKE TO THE OFFICE!! SHE WILL NEVER LET YOUR STAPLERS DOOOOWWWWWN!! ONCE YOU GET HER OUT THE SUPPLY CLOSET, OW GIRL!! SHE'S A STAPLE FREAK!! STAPLE FREAK!!! SHE'S SUPER FREAKY, YOW!!!" The mad stallion's final cry of gibberish echoed throughout the woods, fading in volume the farther away he got from Spike's hiding spot. But finally...there was silence. Jeffrey the Staple Freak was gone, having limped off down the road...the same way from whence he'd come originally...uuuuhhh....

"Wha-....what?...uhhh....my...brain...where..." Well, then! Time for ole' Spike the Dragon to short circuit!

Nope. Nope. Nope, nope, nope...nope...eenope...no way, no how...nope. Ain't happenin', sister. Nuh uh. Nein. Nyet. We ain't gonna' make it, Cletus ole' buddy...we're hangin' it up. Well, I ain't too happy 'bout that, Bandit. Hell no. Nopeity, nopeity, nope...soooooo much nope.....................and also "no." Spike had been wrong. He had indeed been surprised again. There really wasn't any language...in any context...in any dialect that could even remotely begin to elucidate what Spike had just witnessed...well...except maybe for a certain timeless classic: "WHAT THE F**K?!!!" The little dragon wasn't going to press his luck now, after the madness he had just witnessed. In fact, he made a solemn promise to himself not to ever press his luck again. He decided to play it safe and wait a bit. He wanted to be absolutely certain that his former, staple-obsessed comrade was actually gone for good. Too bad this tree branch wasn't more comfortable. Spike sighed...safe up here or not...his ass was really starting to chafe.

"Man...can't a dragon just catch a break?" Apparently not. Or at least not today. Maybe he was hexed or something. He was most definitely going to check the library for hex bags and occult symbols now.

After waiting for a good thirty minutes up in his "Pine Tree of Concealment and Solitude," Spike decided to start heading towards town...finally. He started climbing down the tree, taking great care to not fall and break his neck or something...that'd be pretty embarrassing after all that he'd just been through. But the little dragon had only made it down to one of the lower bottom branches before he froze. Spike could see a familiar shape through a small gap in the pine needles...it was coming down the road from the path that led to Sweet Apple Acres...it looked equine...he knew it couldn't possibly be that skinny, grey freak again...but...for some reason...seeing it filled him with dread anyway. Spike slowly positioned himself on a new tree limb and made sure he was completely concealed from sight. He wasn't taking any chances anymore. He'd promised himself he wouldn't. As the approaching figure came closer, it's owner's identity became evident. There was only one pony Spike knew that as big as this approaching figure...and who also had a red coat.

"Applejack's brother? What's he...ohhh...", he pondered to himself in a barely audible whisper. Spike had again forgotten that the Apples were some of the few ponies in town who habitually used these old back roads.

Spike had never liked having to cross paths with the giant, red mute in public...but out here? In the middle of nowhere? With no pony else around? And no way to defend himself? With no pony else around?!! Where no pony could possibly hear his final, agonized screams?! While being potentially murdered by this overgrown nutjob were he to flip out randomly in a fit of psychotic rage?!!! Spike quieted his breathing in case the big mook had superequine hearing and held his little body as still as possible. The little dragon didn't actually know whether or not the guy was...well...actually dangerous, but he wasn't taking any more goddamn chances today. The guy could actually be completely harmless and relatively nice for all he knew. The only thing Spike did know about the big stallion was that he was very likely batshit crazy. Maybe not as crazy as that last lunatic he'd met, but he had to have some pretty heavy-duty problems at the very least...and that was not...not the kind of pony you'd want to meet alone out here on the intersection of two deserted, old paths that might as well be named "Buttf***k Road and Murderslash Trail" respectively.

Big Mac drew closer and closer until Spike could fully distinguish his features. Huh. He looked a bit different than he normally did. Spike could tell, seeing as the last time he'd seen the guy was over two weeks ago. The contrast was apparent. The big mook wasn't wearing that old plow harness he usually did around his neck, and he had on a dark brown cowboy hat that was pulled low over his eyes. Also, he was toting his signature, leather saddlebag he always had with him by a strap across his shoulder that looked like one of those college professor-style bookbags. As the stallion came to within throwing distance of the pine tree, Spike could see that the guy had a lit cigarette in his mouth. The little dragon didn't know he smoked...he'd never seen him smoke before now...maybe Mac was trying to hide his habit from his family or something. The stallion had reached the pine tree and had started to pass by it. It looked like Mac had started growing himself a beard, too. Huh. Spike had to admit...it looked pretty good on him. He felt a sudden pang of jealousy. It wasn't fair that he couldn't grow facial hair like that! Granted...that...dragons didn't have hair follicles to grow facial hair...but dammit! He really wanted to grow himself a nice 'stache for his lady.

He just knew Rarity would simply melt like butter once she got a gander at Spike's big, bushy, macho-as-all-hell handlebar 'stache!! Yeah. She'd total-oops. Crap. Spike had nearly slipped off the tree branch he was sitting on, causing a few branches of lower portion of the tree to shake a little. Spike gulped and said a silent prayer, hoping that the big psycho hadn't heard the quiet rustling in th-ah. Nope. He'd heard it. Clearly, this guy had traded ears with a dog or something. Aaaaaannnnd now he'd stopped dead in his tracks and was looking directly at Spike's pine tree...and he had grabbed something out of his saddlebag...oh, joy. Spike couldn't tell exactly what Mac was now holding in his right hoof but knowing his luck, it was probably a big-ass butcher knife...that was coated in acid...and an exceptionally virulent strain of "Dragon AIDS"...and was also on fire. Honestly...should he have expected any differently? It was pretty clear to him that the dark gods who watched him wouldn't cut him even a little bit of friggin' slack today. Nope. It was abundantly obvious to him that the "Dark Ones" fully intended to ruin his every attempt to escape a grisly death...because that was clearly the only thing that brought the "Dark One's" any joy in life...and they probably got RAGING hard-on's at the mere thought of Spike being skinned alive and made into a lampshade or a pair of purple, size ten, dragon leather cowboy boots.

Spike kept his eyes on the big stallion who was now staring intently into the treeline, his ears swiveling around like antennae to try and figure out what had made all that rustling. The giant mute took a few steps towards the pine tree and stopped again to listen. The little dragon could see he had an angry, intense snarl on his face. That didn't look at all reassuring. Spike held his breath. He was veritably trembling with terror. Even if this guy turned out to be pretty decent and non-violent (Yeah. Right.), you simply had to admit that he was goddamn terrifying. Spike couldn't see Mac's eyes from under the dark brim of his hat, so he couldn't tell exactly where the stallion was looking right now. What would this nutbag do to him, if he found him? And how'd the guy even manage to hear such a subtle, barely discernible noise from over there? Was he a cyborg or something? Or a former park ranger? Wait...Spike suddenly remembered that AJ had said her brother had been in the army or something since he was eighteen years old. Was he some sort of elite, special forces shitbird who could tell the species of a unseen animal by the sound of it's fart?!! Could he...could he freakin' hear...like...Spike's heartbeat or something right now?!! The big mute was only about five feet away from where Spike was hiding right now, so he wouldn't put it past the guy.

Big Mac squinted intensely into the brush. Spike shivered. That stare of his could freeze vodka. This a-hole could put Clint Easthoof to shame, and that was saying a LOT. The aging actor had been hired solely because of that withering, intense stare of his. Spike squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath again in the somewhat misguided belief that doing so would make him a bit stealthier. But the little guy was about to catch a break finally. The sudden sound of some birds squawking and rustling in one of the trees near Spike's hiding spot had caught the crimson lunatic's attention. Mac snapped his head towards all the commotion, his bulging, veined neck's musculature being accentuated by the sudden contortion. Spike still couldn't believe how damn jacked this guy was...it had to be genetic or something. The big fruitcake's red coat was a lot thicker and fluffier than most, and the little guy could still see how musclebound he was. He'd probably be even more terrifying shaved bald...like one of those bears with eczema at the zoo. But...maybe now Spike could get a good look at what the guy was holding in the crook of his hoof. From this perspective, he could see it better...hopefully, it wasn't a knife like he'd initially thou-(Oh, goddammit!!)

It was indeed a knife...a very long...double-edged...serrated on one side...carbon black knife. Well...calling this thing a "knife" was like calling a 600 lbs. tiger a "kitty cat." It was more a long dagger or short sword than a knife, due to it's sheer machete-like length and construction. The carbon black finish on the blade, pommel, and hilt reflected no glint of light whatsoever. Both sides of the blade, serrated and straight, were wickedly sharp, and the very front tip portion looked tapered down to a reinforced, stabbing point. This thing looked like it could cut and stab it's way through an inch-thick steel door...no problem. This wasn't a friendly blade. It wasn't intended for any sort of non-violent utility. It was made for killing people...any species of people, really...ponies...griffons...minotaurs...whoever.........and dragons. Spike shivered. It was a tool of death. If this knife could say anything about it's owner's intentions, it wouldn't have anything pleasant to say like a utility knife might:

Simple utility knife: "Hey, there, Spike!! How ya' doin', buddy?! Great, great...glad to hear it! Say...would you like to whittle down some pieces of wood to make cute, little birdhouses with me? What's that? Oh, don't worry about that! I'll teach ya'! Here! You can borrow my pocket knife to get started! It'll be fun! Oh...and the ladies love a guy who's good with his hooves...err...claws. Great way to impress Rarity!"

Big Mac's knife: "Hey, there, Spike. What's up? Guess what I'm about to do with this big-ass knife? No, no...I'm not going to make birdhouses with you. That's gay as hell, man. No. I'm going to skin you and tan your hide into leather. Then I'm going make myself a purple, dragonhide rucksack to carry the dismembered remains of all my other victims to various dump sites around these woods to make it harder for the police to identify the bodies. But...since you're friends with my little sister and all...I'll go easy on ya' and make it quick. Now hold still for sec...you do not want me miss with this thing."

Spike quivered in terror, watching as big stallion stared intensely into the brush from whence the new noise had manifested. He finally seemed to it was merely a pair of birds that had made all the racket. Mac relaxed. He grinned and shook his head, snorting with amusement at his own frightening display of hyper-aroused paranoia. For a brief moment...and for reasons Spike didn't quite understand...he felt a twinge of pity for the big, red galoot. But the feeling was brief and had passed quickly. Why should he feel sorry for this crazy buttwad? Spike would kill to look like this guy, albeit he was especially loath to admit it. Crazy or not, the guy was built like a goddamn brick shithouse! Practically every mare in town blushed, giggled, and swooned when they saw him! If anything, he should feel sorry for Spike!...wait...no...that sounded lame. The big mute opened his saddlebag and sheathed his lethal-looking blade in a concealed black scabbard sewn to the inside of the bag...it was a pretty clever way to carry what Spike knew to be an exceptionally ILLEGAL weapon in public without arousing too much suspicion. That knife was easily eighteen inches long...the legal limit for a knife in Equestria was four to six inches, depending upon local government restrictions. And he kept this weapon in the saddlebag he always had with him when he left the farm?

So...basically...this big, red psycho always had this highly efficient tool of murder with him whenever he was out and about? Neat. This guy just had...he just had to be some kind of serial killer. The giant, red mute finished his cigarette and tossed it on the ground. He stamped the lit cherry out with his left forehoof and continued on his way, turning right at the intersection of the two paths. Before long...Mac had completely disappeared from view heading the opposite way that Jeffrey the Staple Freak had gone about thirty or so minutes ago. Honestly...Spike was kind of disappointed. He'd really been hoping Mac would meet up with that grey lunatic and duel him to the death or something. Now that would be a fight. Cheddarbutt's performance earlier had been a bit disappointing albeit entertaining. But...at least he wasn't going to be stapled, mauled, or stabbed/slashed to death....then again...it was still a bit early in the day to tell. That meteor could still very well be on it's way right now to squash Spike's scaly, little head down and out through his rectum. There was no point in jinxing it.

Spike exhaled a sigh of relief. Man...he'd somehow managed to encounter not one...but two psychos in one day! And he was still alive...for now. Spike wasn't sure if he was incredibly lucky or horribly cursed at this point. The little dragon waited in his hiding spot for ten more minutes just to be sure Mac was far down the road and not coming back anytime soon before climbing down to the ground. He wiped himself clean of pine needles and tree sap and started down the path to Sweet Apple Acres. It was a good deal farther to town going this way than the way Mac had just taken...but...there was no...NO way in hell Spike was about to potentially cross paths with that big, red psycho again. Even if "Big McSlash'nToss came back this way on his way home, at least Spike would have the potential benefit of being in the presence of other ponies. (I.e. Mac's family...I don't think he'd want to hurt them.) Spike briefly considered just calling everything quits and heading back to the library to beg Twilight to put him back to work...but...no. NO!!

"No way!! I'm doin' this!!"

He'd been through too much now to just pack up and leave!! After all he'd just been through, he couldn't just give up on his day off!! If anyone deserved a goddamn bear claw right now, it was ole' Spike the Goddamned Motherf***king Cursed-As-F***K Dragon!!! A lesser mind would've snapped at this point...but not his!! Oooohhhh, no!! NO, SIREE, BOB!! Not Spike!! He was made of stronger stuff than that!! He was going to have fun!! He was going to enjoy his day!!! (Hahahahahehehe....right?! Yeah! RIGHT!! YEAAAHHH!!!) Nothing was going to make him go off the deep-end and roll up in a fetal position, weeping hysterically like a little girl who'd just had a mental breakdown!! Nope!! He was determined to have a great day no matter the freakin' cost!! And it was going to be delightful!! FUN WAS TO BE HAD, THE LIKES OF WHICH THE WORLD HAD YET TO F***KING SEE!!!

"HEHEHAHAHAHAHA!!!! OH, YEAH!! HERE WE GO!! I'M GONNA' HAVE A BEAR CLAW AND SEE RARITY, EVEN IF IT KILLS ME!!!!!!"

And if his luck continued like this...it was very possible that it would.

XXXXXXXXXX [END OF CHAPTER EXPOSITION SEQUENCE INITIALIZED] XXXXXXXXXX

*cue Dukes of Hazzard-style episode summary with narrator and banjo music*

"Whooooooeeeeeee!! Now that sure was a big ole' mess a' trouble! Well, it sure do look like lil', ole' Spike the Dragon's done had hisself a purdy rough day, huh? Who knows what's gon' happen to the little feller next? Will he ever get to see Rarity today? Will he ever get hisself a goddang bear claw? Will Twilight Sparkle ever finish readin' that big ole' book o' hers? Will Rainbow Dash ever come to grips with her abandonment issues? Will Hoops ever finish his doctoral thesis on the "monoamine theory of depression?" Will Dumb-Bell ever accept his mother's occupation as a private dancer?...dancer fer money?...do whatcha' want her to do? Will Big Mac ever finish distillin' his current batch of "The Apple Family's World Famous Crystal Methshine?" Well, tune in to Chapter Three to find out!...just as soon as that lazy shitfuck of an author stops snortin' lines a' Comet Cleanser long enough to actually write it."

Hey, screw you, man!...I got...like...a prescription and stuff.

Author's Note

The first person to point out this chapter's hidden reference to a certain commercial aired in the early to mid-nineties will get written into this story in some way over which he/she will have zero creative control...for whatever that's worth...not a whole lot apparently...

But you'll still be goddamn grateful to have even that, won't you?! Huh?! HUH!!?? Yeah, I thought so.

On a side note, I sincerely apologize for creating Jeffrey the Staple Freak. Surprisingly enough, I wasn't high when I thought him up.