Never sleep in an improvised locker room that used to be a storage for cleaning supplies. Twilight should’ve learned this valuable lesson before she had the bright idea to lay her head on a pile of unsold WWE branded shirts and found herself waking up the next morning hugging a mop. A recently used mop. Of course, it’s not all that bad. She didn’t know it was the next morning after all, given that the room had no windows and there was constantly light pouring over the place from incandescent bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

Still, at least she had some sort of plan already in place to get back home. She already spent some several hours pouring over each of the walls and other architecture of the room to try and find out if there was some portal there, but it turns out there was no luck in this regard, only a bunch of holes that were dripping with some substance that quickly dried and left a distinct green stain against the wall. So her best bet was to try and go back home the same way she did last time.

And what luck it was that Chris Benoit appeared in the room with a rather discouraging look on his face. “Twilight” He said. “I got some pretty bad news.”

“What is it, Benoit?”

“I had my wife look this stuff up on the internet, on account she’s better with all this new tech they got, and it turns out none of these places exist. I mean, there’s a bunch of Equestrian centers.”

“Well that’s great! I can just go to there and probably find my way home.”

“It gets worse. As it turns out I don't think those are the kind of Equestrian places you’re talking about. Those are places where horses race and junk.”

“And I take it none of the horses there know the way back home either?”

“None of the horses there speak English, Twilight.”

Twilight rested her head against a wall. “So I guess I’m stuck?”

“Seems like it. And you should probably avoid the ring, maybe hide out in some abandoned place like a cave or a forest or Detroit. Because wrestling isn’t a game, you can get hurt.”

Twilight’s eyes flung opened and it seemed as though a light popped off in her head. “That’s it!” She said as she ran up to benoit and placed a hoof on his chest to emphasize her enthusiastic point. “Wrestling is a game! And if I’m going to have to go back home then I’m going to have to win it!”

“Twilight, I don’t follow any of this.”

“Look, if I can get to the top or whatever it is for wrestling, then I can probably go home!”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Chris Benoit took two seconds of his life to realize what he just said this to and then accompanied his statement with “Let’s do this.”

Author's Note

I once heard of a talking horse in real life who spoke perfect English but I couldn't schedule an interview with Mister Ed so he's never going to be featured unless by popular demand.