Out of nowhere, my pockets began to buzz, like I had a phone in there. I felt around in my jeans pocket for the culprit, and pulled out another transparent level screen, displayed on an iPhone. This time, Froot Loop's familiar pony face was closer than before. "Thanks for playing," the screen read in its familiar bluish hue. A manly tear reluctantly dripped down my cheek.

Donna saw the screen from where she was standing and came to my side. "Something wrong, bro?"

I wiped my tears and held out my hand for a handshake. "Good game."

FIN

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.

This tale's been through many a revision. I was finally prepared to "grow it up" and make it seem less like a brony fantasy and more like one of those nice tween novels I'm ashamed to love. And I may have succeeded. Or failed.

Thanks again for reading. I'd send this to the real Ben, but I doubt he's still interested. He's definitely grown up since the very beginning of the story.

-Rocket Slug