The Perilous Quest to Save Vinyl From Certain Demise

Plotting your course of action, you feel yourself grin in anticipation of the epic battle yet to come. Your breathing grows quicker, and you feel like the energy of a thousand ponies courses through your legs.

Determined, you stand your ground as a gigantic clawed limb slashes through the air towards you.

With a quick motion, you leap into the air, moving from your spot just as it is slammed by the manticore, it's claws just barely managing to cut through the last inch of your expertly styled mane.

With a quick jab of your forehoof, you send a quick jab at the monster's face, making a highly satisfying slap sound as you punch its cheek, eliciting a grunt of pain from the beast.

Laughing like a filly, you grab onto a patch of neck fur, and pull yourself up and around, towards the manticore's back, where you would have him at an advantage. You can't believe this is working! It's just like those dramatic fights from the old adventure novels! Steeling yourself to swing gracefully around your prey, you swoop up and around the gaping, toothy maw that you were so frightened of just moments before.

Suddenly, you feel a painful tightening sensation around your neck.

Your body suddenly stops in midair, as your body tried to push onward, only to be pulled back. An indescribably pain jolts to your brain as you turn your head, wondering just what had gone wrong in your perfect maneuver.

As you look down, you realize that your bow-tie had gotten caught on one of the manticore's long fangs.

You curse to yourself as you dangle from the manticore's jaw, now helplessly vulnerable, and all because you were so overconfident. You probably shouldn't have just rushed into battle, considering your inexperience and ineptitude.

You also realize now too late, that it was probably also bad judgement that lead you to provoke a powerful manticore into attacking. Perhaps there could have been a better, more diplomatic solution, but now, it was too late.

Stupid bow-tie.

You shoot the manticore a sheepish, blushing smile as you hang from it's jaw.

Unamused, it roars at you once again, grabbing you by the neck, and forcing your body against a stone wall, now trapped and at it's mercy.

You're defeated.

You're screwed.

You're dead.