Leucanthemum vulgare
I am a car and I am in Equestria! There are lots of bright, colorful things, like, everywhere! What’s more, I’m a Ford GT 500! I’m iridescent dark red so that depending on the light, I’m black one moment and blood red the next! And my tires are bigger than normal so that I can drive on all the offroads! They have ice chains on them too so that I can go superfast on snow and metal claws so that I can literally climb up at all of the perpendicular angles imaginable and maybe even challenge the “This-Side-Up” limitation! My mega-named thrusters are all up on my rear like, ‘Hey, we gonna do the crazies!’
I’m not sure if I want white racing stripes, so I’m gonna go with whatever you think is cooler. Also, I’m whatever car you think is best painted your favorite car color with all your favorite features because I crave your acceptance, but I don’t really care. I’m too awesome to care. I forge my own way.
I saw some four-legged freaks start moseying my way asking all of the questions like, ‘What is this come to be?’ and I just put on my hoodie and lowered the hood over my hood to hide my face made of hood and bumper and headlights and hood. It hided my face in blackness and they could only see my glowing, yellow headlight eyes. I do this because my headlight eyes are super cool and say dangerous things, but are gentle and get all the ladies. I don’t want none of these ladies because, on one tire, they’re all covered in fluffy and non-metal. On the other tire... I stopped there because I can only count to one.
“Sup? I’m Ford GT500, but you can just call me FGT.” I say in a overly-of-the-top deep voice filled with all the gruff.
“Oh, hello…” all of them did the blush.
I say to them, “How be the names?!”
They saids in unison, “We’re the Mane 6!” and I feared the Hive-Mind.
They all try to poke at my muscly, firm metal body, not being able to resist their bodily urges. I throw my 700R4 4L60 transmission into reverse and spin out in a donut in the grass.
“Wow! He’s going backwards in a circle so fast!” all of they swooned.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet!” I pop open my gull-wing doors and blast my thrusters with an awesome reference blaring from my 21 Ultimate Mass UL12 subwoofer speakers, “To infinity and FUS RO DAH!” I go into the stratosphere. The blue, rainbow one try to keep up, but I’m just too fast. Then there was a butterfly.
The crystalline air breathed effortlessly under the gentle caress of the small insect’s disproportioned wings. It’s long, svelte, black body glided through the air on its thin, translucent means of flight. Paradisiacal incense lovingly kissed the little one’s antennae, promising saccharine delectation. Its minuscular tongue licked at the fragrance in the prospect of such delicious sustenance and approached the origin of the luscious scent. An alabaster leucanthemum vulgare with a slight fuchsia temperance reached out for it, inveigling it with its salacity.
By now, I was in space with my space-gas that can burn without oxy-airyness. The stillness of space reminded me of that fateful starry night. I was an old, brown, rusty beetle and my driver was drunk. We swerved this way and that way and I was scared. So scared. I wanted to stop. I wanted to save us both, but I couldn’t control myself. My driver had complete control over me. I cried, with all the memories of my manufactured childhood. I’m sorry, Mother Robot Arm, Father Robot Arm, forgive me. Out of nowhere, a tree lurched from the tree line and killed us both. That’s how everychassis ends up in this happy-meal place. They die. I had been longing for so long to find out who I really was and why I was here. Now, now I knew… I was piece of doo-doo, but now I’m fender-bending fantastic!
I says to the blue, bird-horse, “I can have the flames around my face,” but she couldn’t see my face because of my hoodie. My eagle-like headlights perceived a lone watermelon on a stick a bamillion miles below me. I aimed down and concentrated all of my orange juice. Then, I shout, “NOW!!” and my megalodon rocket-thrusters bursts into awesome and throwed me at the Earth at alarming rate. I turn into car-comet-meteor with fire being all around me. Thankfully, my hoodie was fire-proof to keep my radical. Not that I needed it, because I was already flames-proofed. But I didn’t need to be flamed-proofs because the fire dared not to mar my unblemished paint. Weaker cars would’ve took the fall like an employee, but I took it like a bawz.
I screeched at the ground. I summoned katanas in all of my tires and raised all four of my M-40 SAW heavy machine guns with unlimited ammo out of my hood. The red-filled green menace never stood a chance. I opened fire, each bullet perfectly hitting their mark. Then, for the grand finale, I spin like a frisbee with my katanas slashing wildly. I landed a few feet away from the doomed fruit, facing away. The camera pans to see my opponent frozen there before volcanoing in explosion everywhere. I didn’t get any on me. Then, I taked off my hood and reveals my face. “6 females, I will do the talk to you.”
I telled them that they are from cartoon and that I am from other world and I show them all of the technologies and they took like, 7 freakingly slow whole seconds to process and accept the information. Then they loved me forever. Except for Baby Spike, so I put him in my trunk with my stash of rocket launcher. Then, I ate cake and ice cream three meals a day. Then, I got a stomach ached because I needed a conflict with my story so we stopped the presses and I went to the hospital.
With the only conflict ever to be in this story out of the way, I went to Statue Discord and rocket launched him and he dyed in a shower of crumbs. Then, I kills Nightmare, cockatrice, manticore, hydra and all things that would ever pose a threat in land of ponies. I was loved and cherished and had little car-pony families with the mane 6 and others and they builded a monument in my favor for all generations. But it wasn’t needed because I could live forever and everychassis else lived forever too and we all enjoyed forever together forever.
They accept me and I accept them. I crave their acceptance, but I don't really care. I'm too awesome to care. Even now, as I sit surrounded by piles of countless similarly mangled cars, there's nochassis controlling me. I forge my own way.
The End
