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Prerequisite Self-Insertion Fanfic

“We’re losing him!”

You know, sometimes, I’m not sure if the surgeon was making my condition better or worse by cutting me open. Am I dead yet? I sure hope not, I have a girlfriend to get back to.

Rapid beeps. Flatlines. Most definitely not a good sign. Wait for it… yeah, those defibrillators aren’t working so well either. It just hit me that I am probably going to die. Man, this sucks.

    Aaaaand there’s the light. Yeah, I’m pretty dead.

    So what happens when you die? Here, I’ll tell you. People totally freak out and crowd around your hospital bed poking sharp stuff inside of you trying to save your dying self but instead they end up letting you bleed out on the operating table. What happens next is they take you and dump you where all the other dead people go and your loved ones go to town on what little personal belongings you possessed. Finally, a bunch of people who barely cared about you while you were alive dress in black and crowd around to watch your slowly rotting corpse get chucked into a hole in the ground, totally crying their butts off between the deeply moving speeches and the fact that somebody they barely got around to caring about had up and died before they got the chance to get to know them better.

    And when all is said and done, all that’s left is a dead guy in a hole in a ground that people cover up and put a fancy little tombstone on, and everyone you knew and loved eventually shrugs it off and goes on with their lives and learns to cope with living without you.

    Yeah, thanks for that. I want a refund for the crappy life I’ve had to suffer through, and I try to ask him, but death just looks at me with a glazed-over expression like some carnival ride operator that has been working too long of a shift. He glares at me with a glare that seems to say:

    “Kid, stop whining. The ride’s over. Just get off and do something else with your life.”

    So, after you die, what else is there to do?

    ***

    I’m sitting in a desk on a perfectly white chair, in front of a perfectly white table, in the middle of a perfectly white room. I don’t know where the light is coming from; It kind of seems to just… exist. But it still hurts my eyes because it’s so bright and white and stuff.

    I look down and I am in my hospital robes. I look around and wonder if I am dead. Seemingly in response, a speakerphone lowers from the ceiling.

“Welcome, recently deceased,” begins a robotic voice. Weird, those are always female. Yeah, I am pretty sure I am dead now.

“Please fill out the aforementioned paperwork, and then you may exit the building.”

Wait, but I didn’t..

“Failure to do so will result in the expiration of your contract.”

What contract, wait.

    “Please hold.”

    Hold onto what, my seat?

    “Please hold.”

    Okay, what the heck is going on.

    “Please hold.”

    I get it, okay? Now tell me what the hold up is already.

    “Why, hello.”

    …?

    The wall adjacent to me parts ways to reveal a glaring white light. Why is everything white in the afterlife? It’s starting to get on my nerves. This angel dude walks in, all holy and saintlike and such. He is holding a folder, which was white. He was wearing a toga, which was also white. He’s got those pristine, white angel wings that are stereotypical and big and all, trailing right behind him.

    He sits down in a chair in front of me that was mauve. Just kidding, it was white.

    Well, at least his halo was yellow. Or was it white? I couldn’t tell, because of the lighting.

    With a smile on his face, he leafs through the folder. I lean forward a little bit, to try and steal a look, but he closes the folder before I can see anything.

    “Am I dead?” I blurt out without thinking.

    “Yes, very much so.”

    Way to sugarcoat it, bub. He leans in, all suave and smooth-like.

    “But you see, we have a little something to say about that.”

    ...Wait. What?

    “You’re probably wondering who the heck we are, and what exactly we have to say about it, “ he says, chuckling. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. Here, call me Alex,” he says as he extends a hand. I look up at him, and hesitantly shake it. “And don’t worry too much. You’re not in trouble; at least, not to go… down there, if ya know what I mean.” He winks.

    Deep down inside, I  breathe a big giant sigh of relief.

    “In fact, your case is very much the opposite, I think.”

    “Um… thank you. I’m Foxy, by the way.”

    “Oh yes, I can tell.”

    “No, uh… my name is Foxy.”

    Awkward silence ensues.

    “Yeah, I knew that,” Said Alex, laughing awkwardly. “It says so in your file,” he said, waving the folder.”

    Suuure it did.    I mean, it probably does, but that’s not the point. He clears his throat.

    “Anyway, Foxy. Down to business.” He sits back down. “Yes, you died. But that’s where we have a problem. You see, before they can admit you past those pearly gates up there, you’ve got a lot of paperwork to wade through.”

    “Paperwork?”

    “Yes, even Angels have paperwork.”

    “Huh.”

    “And in your case, there’s a little problem with that. I mean, not that you’ve done anything wrong…”

    “So, what’s the problem?”

    “The thing is, you died.”

    “Um, we went over this already, I think.”

    “No, I mean, you died before you actually got anything done with your life.”

    “...What?”

    “You just got out of college, you know. Didn’t even finish that book you started in Sophomore year.”

    “...”

    “Basically, what I mean to say is, your existence had no lasting impact.”

    Deep down inside, I tried to not get impossibly pissed off.

    “What!?” I said, trying not to sound impossibly pissed off.

    “Well, don’t get all your panties up in a bunch about it, it’s not my fault you spent all that time doing useless things.”

    I get up to say something, probably something incredibly spiteful and incredibly stupid, but with a wave of his hand he motions for me to calm thyself and sit back down. “Of course, Foxy, that’s where we come in. There’s some spaces left to fill on your resume, and let me tell you, I’ve got just the thing for it.”

    I sit there for a second, making a grumpy face. Alex grabs the collar of my shirt (Wait a second… I just realized… it’s white), and he’s got this mischievous little twinkle in his eye that makes me question his sanity. With a cheshire cat grin , he whispers into my ear…

“...Equestria.”

***

    Before I have the time to ask what the heck Equestria even is, Alex drags me out of my chair and out the door into a long, white hallway.

    “Where are we going?”

    The cheshire cat grin is now a mad scientist smile. He comes to an abrupt halt, and we are standing in front of a mirror.

    “Basically, what we’re going to have you do is go in there, and have you do your best to do something useful for once.”

    “But what-”

    “All in good time, friend! Have a safe journey!”

    He pushes me through the stupid mirror and I start falling through this weird vortex that’s all colorful and rainbowy and stuff. I’m gasping for air but this isn’t full of air and there’s colors everywhere, sights and sounds filling my ears and my head and my brain, thoughts and emotions swirling around in this blender that I try to hold onto…

    “Oh, and one more thing: just make sure you  never eat the cookies!” I hear Alex yell from lord knows where.

***

    The world slowly stops spinning around me, and I take that brief moment to vomit all over the floor. I lie there for a bit,  dazed. Is this what a  hangover is like? Because if it is, then I am never drinking anything ever.

    It takes a few minutes (Though from my perspective, it seems a lot longer than that) to come to my senses. I immediately notice three things:

    1) It’s daytime

    2) I’m in the middle of nowhere

    3) And I’m butt naked.

    ...Thanks a lot, Alex.

    I sit up, dust myself off, fall over, and notice some more things:

    There’s a town off in the horizon, a little village like from Lord of the Rings or something like that. Everything’s all pastel colored and cartoony. To top it all off, I got this funny poky thing sticking out of my head, and if I didn’t know any better, my feet look like hooves.

Equestria.

***

Alex watched from above, clipboard in hand. The experiment would begin shortly.

***

    I stand up, only to trip around on  digitigrade. Ooookay, so I have four legs. Four legs with hooves on them. Equestria, Equestrian, Equine…

    I’m a horse, aren’t I.