The PRS

It was another day in Ponyville. I walked down the street, oblivious to what was about to happen. Then the ground started to tremble. everypony started galloping around frantically, screaming.

"What's going on?" I asked the stallion next to me, who didn't seem to be fazed at all.

"An attack. Happens once in a while," he replied in a thick accent. "If I were a successful business-stallion like you, Mr. L, I'd run and hide."

"Wait, who exactly is attacking?!"

"I have no idea."

The ground stopped shaking, and the whole town was filled with a tense silence, like everypony was holding their breath. I guess they were, considering the circumstances. Then I saw them. Standing at the top of the hill was a small band of stallions and mares, dressed in battle armor. I also noticed that a small group of ponies had joined the stallion and I. They were all equipped with weapons and at least an iron helmet each. The ponies at the top of the hill yelled,

"Charge!!" and the battle was on. The stallion standing next to me suddenly rushed forward and began fighting like there was no tomorrow. The battle wasn't bloody or anything, but I felt myself getting very light-headed. I adjusted my tie with my magic and slowly made my way to the park for a drink of water. When I came back, the battle was over, Ponyville emerging victorious. The attack force had retreated, except for one mare. I trotted over in time to hear her say, in a flat voice,

"The PRS is responsible." Then she collapsed on the ground.