You and Anon Duel the Dazzlings

by MyHobby

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random, Sonata Dusk, Human, Anon, Second Person, Comedy, Equestria Girls, Aria Blaze, Pinkie Pie, Adagio Dazzle
Length: 5069

The Dazzlings have returned and the only thing standing between them and the world is you and that guy with the vicarious face.

The Dazzlings have bounced back! The only thing that stands between them and total world domination is you, a gung-ho brony with a cool jacket, and Anon, a mysterious man with a well-pressed suit.

That and friendship lasers, if you wanna get technical.

Contains: Second Person, Anon, Present Tense, Equestria Girls, Parodied Song Lyrics, and a complete lack of respect for any of the above.

Published 2015-01-26 06:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-01-26 06:40:02 UTC

To the Death(?)

Your hands tremble as you hover your finger over the button. Your left hand grips your right wrist and forces the finger closer, closer, ever closer. Sweat drips from behind your bangs. Your eyes squint.

“Get on with it!” Anon yells in your ear. Rude. “They’re gonna find us any second.”

“But what if it’s not ‘all that and a bag of chips’?” you say. “What if somehow we’re wrong? What if this actually isn’t a portal to Equestria?”

“What?” Anon asks. “You think Hasbro of all companies has an actual particle accelerator in their office?”

You gaze up at the giant, tubular ring sitting before you. It looks very much like a miniature particle accelerator, what all with the sciency gizmos and gadgets lying around. The words “Easybake Particle Accelerator Prototype” are stamped on the side.

“The thought had crossed my mind,” you admit.

Anon slaps you on the back of your head. “Push the button and we can worry about being smashed into atoms later.”

The door rattles as Hasbro’s security tries to bust into the office you’re barricaded inside.

Anon’s green, featureless, vicarious face wrinkles in what you think might be a frown. Maybe. “It’s now or never, my friend. Equestria or bust.”

“Lefty chooses now!” you say. “But Righty chooses never!”

Anon leans harder against a couch preventing a particularly grumpy and underpaid security guard from grabbing him. “Tell Righty that ponies are on the other side!”

Your eyes widen. The Goal. The Mandate. The Reason for Breaking and Entering. Your mind flashes back to the moment you discovered Megan McCarthy’s secret journal, detailing her discovery of the parallel worlds, particularly the home of the pon—

“Snap out of it and pony!” Anon boots you in the butt, causing you to tumble headfirst into the button.

The machine whirrs and chugs. You scramble back as it shakes, rattles, and rolls. Before you can properly vocalize your mixed feelings of hope, fear, and ire at being booted, it flashes. The air warps within the ring, turning into a spiraling vortex of centrifugal terror.

“Time to go,” Anon says, pulling you upright. The odd question mark on his face curves up where his eyebrows should be. “Um. You first.”

You pout. You grab his shoulders and shove him right into the sparkly void. His impeccably-pressed suit and remarkably-thin body dissolves into impossibly-tiny motes that all carry towards the center of the swirl.

Your first thought is that maybe you’ve just accidently committed manslaughter. Your second is that the guard behind the door looks really ticked off. You take a deep breath, pinch your nose, and jump in feet-first.

The feeling that spreads through your body is akin to a limb falling asleep during the night. The kind where you wake up, try to stand up, and then fall completely on your face. It is soon followed up with a nasty charlie horse in every single limb and digit. The pain passes as quick as it came, leaving behind the sensation of dirt in your nose.

You lift your head and snort the dark soil free. You spy a bright-blue park bench. Behind it is a vivid, prospering tree. All around is green grass and bright flowers. Even the sky seems bluer. You inhale deeply of the gorgeous air.

“We made it!” you shout. “We’ve arrived in Equestria!”

You feel like dancing a jig. You would if you knew how to dance at all. You settle for hopping from foot to foot. The elation dies down, replaced by inquisitiveness. Just where in Equestria might you be? You’re in a park, so there’s a better-than-zero chance that you’ve made it to Ponyville.

You tilt your head. You can hear voices on the breeze. Sounds of civilization. Hints of humanity… er… equinity, of course. That’s actually a word, you remember from your daily dictionary reading. It means just what it sounds like it should mean.

You run through the park, towards a distant treeline. The sound grows louder, clearer. You can hear voices, recognized from your time watching The Show. You grin from ear-to-ear and emit a piercing squeal from the back of your throat.

You break through the trees and see Anon. He stands at the edge of the road, his posture bent. His shoulders hunched. His head tilted at an angle. His chin slacked where there should have been a distinct mouth.

Before long, your posture grows to match his. You feel a deep, gnawing horror in the pit of your stomach. Disbelief flashes in your eyes, though nobody notices much. It’s all you can do to remain standing.

Cars drive by. Stoplights flicker from red to yellow to green. Humans of every color of the rainbow and then some walk around you and Anon like pastel pedestrians.

Anon screams. He lifts his hands skyward. Tears form at the corners of his question mark. “You fools! You blew it! You blew it all! You sent us to Equestria Girls!”

A pink-skinned, pink-haired girl stops beside him. She taps her lip before waving a hand in front of his face. “Um, dude, are you alright?”

Anon collapses to his knees. “A whole month of my life went into finding that stinking portal! Thirty whole days! I’m never getting those days back! Never ever never!”

“Dude, chill,” you say. “We totally made it. Kinda.”

You smile. You stick your hands on your hips and survey the scene. “Heck, this might even be better. It would be kinda awkward to appear in the Everfree Forest and get instantly eaten by a manticore or hydra or something dumb like that, right? No chance of that happening here.”

Across the street, a mugging is taking place. The potential victim viciously beats her potential attacker with her purse. Granny Smith knocks him to the ground and stands over him like a knight over a slain dragon. The mugger’s name, incidentally enough, is Garble.

“Yup. No dangers or peril at all.” You zip your coat up to your chin. “Kinda chilly, though.”

“It’s still not pony,” Anon grumbles.

The pink-on-pink girl’s eyes jump from Anon to you to Anon to you and finally settle back on Anon. “Pony?”

“No,” you say, “but we can still meet our favorite ponies in a familiar environment! They’ve got everypony and then some!” You rub your chin and survey the crowd. “Now the first question is, who’s your favorite pony?”

“Frtrrshrr,” Anon mumbles.

“And the second question,” you continue as if you hadn’t understood him, “is where we might find said Futter Sure.”

The pink girl taps the tips of her fingers together. “No offense intended, but you guys seem really, really, really lost. I could totally show you around if you need—”

Anon grabs you by your collar and shakes you. “I was promised ponies!” he shouts. “And all I got was stinking Monster High without the stinking monsters!”

The pink lady presses her pink lips together. “Oookay. I can tell that you two have a few issues to work out amongst yourselves, so maybe I’ll come back later with a cake. A big cake.”

She lifts one foot to leave, but is stopped by the terrifyingly pathetic sound of Anon weeping into your chest. She clasps her hands together and sighs. “Aw, I would hug you if it was socially acceptable to comfort complete strangers.”

You frown at the pink girl. “It’s not?”

“Well, I have a five-inch restraining order against everybody who comes into town. Mayor Merry Mare’s orders.” She scrunches up her nose. “Now that I think about it, she probably doesn’t have that magnitude of political power.”

You drop Anon and squint at the girl. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“You do now!” she says. She holds her hand out to shake, but pulls it back quickly to fulfill the restraining order requirements. “My name’s Pink—”

“My-hy life is ruined!” Anon bawls.

You glare at the green-skinned man. “Well, my name is—”

“This is your fault!” Anon howls at the sky. “I blame you, Megan McCarthy! I blame you Lauren Faust! You are evil! Evil!”

“Oh my gawsh, shut up!” you say. “Mister Question Mark here is named Anon E. Mouse. We go way back.” You turn to the pink one with a lidded glare. “Way, way, way, way, way, way, way, way, way, way back.”

The girl you know only as “Pink—” tries to smile. She tries really, really hard. “What’s the E stand for?”

“Eduardo.”

“You promised you’d never speak of that name again!” Anon says.

“Aw, but it’s such a cute name,” Pink— says. “It makes me think of my first imaginary friend.”

Anon wipes tears from his question mark. “Your what?”

“Of course, he was a big, purple bull-monster, but that’s beside the point.” Pink— crosses her arms. “You guys looking for anybody in particular or just looking to see the sights of Peopleburg? I overheard you talking about ponies, but we don’t see those much except for the pony rides during a carnival.” Her head dips down to accentuate her frown. “And that only comes once a year…”

She holds her hands behind her back and rocks on the balls of her feet. “But anyway, what’ll it be? I’m sorta the local official unofficial tour guide!”

You reach down to hoist Anon up by his collar. “Well, we are pretty new in town. Getting acquainted with the local landmarks might be the way to go.”

“Joyous celebration!” Pink— shouts. “Anyhow. That building right there is Sugarcube Corner, that one over there is the Flimflam Thrift Shop, and that third one is a mysterious abandoned warehouse that is probably twenty-four flavors of condemned. Oh, and the High School is just down the road.”

You wait for her to continue. You wait a long, long time. “Is that it?”

“Peopleburg is a small town. What did you expect?” Pink— shrugs. She snaps her fingers and strikes a heroic pose with one foot on an invisible rock. “What matters in Peopleburg are not the buildings, or the parks, or the cars, but the people. People with amazing abilities. People with stories to tell. People from every walk of life and background!”

The screech of feedback in a speaker system stabs the three of you in the ear. Or whatever Anon’s equivalent is. You turn in the direction of the offence to see three girls walking down the middle of the road, in the middle of the day, in the middle of traffic. They each have a hairdo as large again as their bodies, and rather a lot of spikes in their dress.

“And I do mean every walk of life and background,” Pink— says. “Including but not limited to diabolical villains from another world.”

The three girls sing into microphones, eliciting occasional squeals from both the speakers and the audience. They shrug it off and continue their song.

“Oh whoa, oh whoa
You’re gonna trip and then fall
Oh whoa, oh whoa
Because you’re all in our thrall!”

Pink— grabs her bottom lip with both hands and pulls. “Gasp! I thought the sirens couldn’t sing anymore after we broke their amulets!”

“Well, that’s how it happened in the movie.” You squint at the speakers, noting something oddly familiar about the wireless setup. “They really shouldn’t be able to sing even this we—”

“My gosh! It’s dastardly on every level!” Anon shrieks. “They’re using the songify app!”

“You heard it here first, folks!” the lead girl says. She puts her hand on her hip with an exaggerated wiggle. “The Dazzlings are back on tour!”

All around, the pastel pedestrians fall into a trance as the song continues.

“Come, we’ll give you a treat
Something that’s magical and neat
You’re gonna trip and then fall
Oh-oh, whoa-oh-oh
Because you are now in our thrall
Oh-oh, whoa-oh-oh-oh”

Pink— grabs your wrist and Anon’s, earning herself at least twenty hours of community service that she was probably going to do anyway. “Come on, we’ve gotta scoot! Our eardrums can’t repel autotune of that magnitude!”

You look at Anon with a quizzical look that looks quizzical. Quizzically. “What’s autotune?”

“It’s like a program that can take any sound and make it pitch-perfect music. Or something. I think it’s more complicated than that. Maybe.”

“That’ll do it for the purposes of this scene!” Pink— says as she drags you and Anon through the air towards the abandoned mysterious warehouse.

“You can’t confuse it
Stumble, bruise it
Watch as we all overuse it
Autotune makes baby’s cry
Sound as sweet as pumpkin pie!”

Just as they reach the catchiest part of the song, Pink— slams the heavy metal door of the warehouse shut, blocking out the seductive tones of the sirens. Seductive, in this case, being a relative term.

“I gotta know how the song goes!” Anon says, drumming his fists against the locked door. “It’s so catchy! It’s so melodious!”

“No, you fool!” You take your turn slapping the back of his head. “You’re letting yourself get distracted by Adagio’s hips.”

Anon grimaces. Kind of. At the very least, his question mark curls down disapprovingly. “There is no love lost between me and her hips.”

You rotate your waist in a slow circle. “Oh really? You sure you weren’t paying especially close attention during all the siren songs?”

Pink—’s head swivels back and forth as the conversation bounces from you to Anon.

“If I was,” he says, “it was only because their songs have a special melody and beat that I find appealing in a very mild manner.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say. “Go ahead and try to convince me your internet search history doesn’t have ‘Sonata,’ ‘Aria,’ and ‘Adagio’ featured prominently.”

“Those are all types of music!” he says, holding up a finger. “You trying to tell me I can’t like music?”

“I just want to your admit you like Equestria Girls, weirdo.”

“Weirdo!? I’m not the one who belts out ‘Big Brother Best Friend Forever’ on the way to work!”

“The song touched my heart!”

“The song touched your head!”

“Guuuuuuyyyysssss!!!” Pink— shouts. “We’re kinda in a situation here. I hate being the voice of reason on any day of the week, but if you two can’t put aside your differences, we’re never getting out of here.”

She turns away from you, pulling a fake mustache out of her pocket and sticking it to her upper lip. “The issue is that three previously-defeated villains are parading around town hypnotizing the townsfolk. The solution is to hit them with concentrated beams of pure friendship and eliminate the evil influence. I have access to that particular weapon of mass reduction, but only if I can sneak out and contact my friends.”

Anon crosses his arms. “Don’t you have a cell phone?”

“Well, yeah, but I get like, zero bars in here.” She twirls her fake mustache. “It looks like our only hope is for me to sneak out and find some area with good reception. The problem is, the instant I show my pretty pink head, the sirens will activate their evil pony-fish powers and blow me away.”

You and Anon stare at Pink— with a blank expression.

Pink— blinks back at you. “That would be a bad thing.”

Your mouth drops open with an “Oh” of understanding.

“But how can you do that?” Anon asks. “Only the Elements of Harmony can defeat evil these days. At least if you wanna use friendship lasers instead of, say, a bubble of love.”

“That’s my secret, Anon,” Pink— says. “I’m always friendly.”

Anon’s question mark assumes its intended usage by indicating an interrogative.

She grips her mustache between her fingers. “And besides, the truth is, my real identity is…” She rips the fake facial hair away. “Pinkie Pie!”

You and Anon gasp at this completely unexpected, out-of-nowhere, inexplicable, unforeshadowed revelation.

Pinkie beams for a moment before her posture deflates. “Which, now that I think about it, probably means complete bupkis to you, doesn’t it?”

“No, no, we understand completely.” You wave your hands explanatorily. “We know all about you.”

“Yeah,” Anon says. “We watch you every day.”

Pinkie’s eyes widen. She takes three measured paces back. “Okaaayyy… Okay, I can work with this.”

You take a step forward. “What do you need us to do, Pinkie?”

“STAY BACK!” Pinkie Pie coughs into her fist. “I mean, please keep your distance while I formulate a plan. There, that’s a good stalker.”

Your shoulders droop. “But I’m not a stalker.”

“Yeah, just keep telling yourself that.” Pinkie scuffs her foot across the cement floor of the warehouse. “So anyway, my original plan was to throw a party as a distraction—”

A car crashes through the wall. You yelp and jump into Anon’s arms at the exact same moment he jumps into your arms. You collide in midair and flop to the floor.

“But now I think you two should just try to distract the Dazzlings while I track down the Rainbooms okay good luck goodbye!” Pinkie runs out the new hole as fast as her legs can carry her. “I would totally stay and help!” she screeches, “but only the Elements can save Peopleburg, now!”

Anon’s question mark becomes an exclamation point for exactly one second before reverting. “So that sinks it.”

You brush your jacket off and get to your feet. “That sinks what?”

“My battleship,” Anon says. He rolls up the sleeves to his suit. “It happened quicker than I imagined, but all the same… We arrived in Equestria—”

“Girls,” you add.

Anon sneers, his question mark becoming an ‘@.’ “—Equestria Girls, and we’re the only thing that stands between the people of this fair town and total annihilation.”

“Or at least total overuse of autotune,” you say. “Besides, we’re only supposed to hold out until the Elements arrive.”

“Don’t take my moment of destiny away from me.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bandana. He wraps it around his head. “There’s only one thing that can save Ponyville—”

“Peopleburg,” you hiss.

“—only one thing can save Ponyville now,” Anon says. He points out the hole at the growing crowd of hypnotized city folk. “A rap battle!”

He charges out the hole and over the car, shouting a battle cry that only he can comprehend. You stare after your friend, your eyebrow raised, your mouth ajar.

Outside, Adagio, Sonata, and Aria continue their song.

“Now here this, my musical slaves
Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh
Subservience is all the rage
Oh-oh, whoa-oh-oh
Songify my every demand
Whoa-oh, oh-oh-oh
Bow unto the sirens’ command
Whoa, oh, oh”

“Adagio!” Anon Eduardo Mouse shouts at the top of his lungs. He stands atop a parked minivan, a finger thrust in her direction. “I challenge you and your minions for the fate of the Kingdom of Equestria!”

Sonata sucks on her lips. She whispers to Aria, “Should we tell him we’re not in Equestria anymore? I know I was really, really disappointed when I found that out.”

“It totally stank.” Aria grins. “We should break it to him as hard as possible.”

“Why are we paying the looser with a minivan any attention?” Adagio asks. “I mean, seriously. We have a friendship to destroy.”

“You’re not destroying any friendships today, Adagio!” You push your way through the dazed, entranced victims of the sirens’ attack. “He’s an idiot, but he kinda maybe has a point!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sonata says. She scratches her head at the base of her ponytail. “How come they’re not under our spell?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Pinkie says.

All eyes fall on Pinkie Pie. She looks from you to the Dazzlings, her hair a pink blur. She lifts her arms in the air, runs into a nearby ally and screams “I’m not actually here!”

“Aha!” Anon yelps. “You can’t hold us because we’re not of this world… or Equestria!”

Aria rubs her chin. “Well that’s dumb.”

“It’s awful,” Sonata agrees.

“And yet, an interesting theory.” Adagio’s face contorts into a smirk of epic proportions. “Perhaps it deserves a test?”

She snaps her fingers three times, starting a beat. The speakers squeal once more before laying down a wicked sick bass line.

“Feel the awesome bass
Put you in your place
Bravado ain’t worth beans
Don’t fight beyond your means

“Drama makes us bored
We cannot stand your whining
You’re gonna be floored
Walk up and shut the door

“You’re too easy
Dumb and cheesy
You couldn’t last a stanza!”

Anon stands ramrod straight, his arms limp. Drool escapes from around his question mark’s dot.

You’ve had enough. You unzip your jacket and toss it to the ground. Your raise your fist. “I challenge you to a rap battle!”

Adagio, Sonata, and Aria gasp. Sonata points at your chest. “You’re a girl!?”

You frown. You look down at your Rarity t-shirt to find two modest yet attractive lumps. You tilt your head with one eyebrow raised. “Um. Yeah? It’s not exactly a secret, guys.”

The Dazzlings simultaneously blink. It’s a little creepy. Sonata cups a hand to her mouth. “Evil huddle!”

The three link their arms over their shoulders. Despite the closeness of the conversation, they are speaking loud enough for you to hear.

“She challenged us according to ancient siren law!” Sonata says. “We have to accept on her terms or be deemed forever tone-deaf!”

“But she’s not a siren!” Aria snaps. “How could she possibly know the rules of our order? It’s a trick!”

“Trick or no,” Adagio growls, “our honor, dubious though it may be, is at stake here. We have to take her up on it.”

Sonata pops her head out of the huddle and waves at you with a big grin. You wave back, mystified.

“Well, do any of you know how to rap?” Aria says.

“I thought you were going do the rapping,” Adagio groans. “You’re the grumpy one, or something.”

“Excuse me for not being the light of your life.” Aria wrinkles her forehead. “What about you? You’re always talking about what idiots Sonata and I are. You deal with the chick.”

“Um,” Sonata says, “actually—”

“I’m an operatic singer, classically trained by mother Hydia!” Adagio raises her head over Aria’s. “If I was going to learn to rap, it would have been from MC Tireked a thousand years ago!”

“You had plenty of opportunities to learn it when it appeared here!” Aria yanks Adagio down. “Now we’re stuck with a challenge we can’t meet and a team of seven harpies who can whoop our butts by thinking happy thoughts!”

You sigh in relief. Come to think of it, you aren’t the best rapper in the world. You don’t even rap casually, truth be told. You’re cool with the occasional Epic Rap Battle on Youtube, but you can’t be said to be a regular fan of—

“I’ll do it!” Sonata says.

“Oh gosh darn it,” you say.

Adagio raises both eyebrows. “You can rap?”

“I can rap battle,” Sonata proudly proclaims. She rests her hands on her hips. “You basically put each other down with rhymes, right?”

“At this point I’ll take anything.” Aria claps Sonata on the back. “Knock yourself out.”

“Aw. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” Sonata steps towards you, her face a cheerful mask of determination. “I’ll try not to make you cry too hard, okay? What are we fighting to?”

“Um… to the pain?” You crack your knuckles and roll your shoulders. “Bring it, Barbie doll.”

Sonata smiles wide enough to make Pinkie blush.

“You wanna rap with
The sirens
I can’t help but notice
You are just a big nerd

“Yes it’s true that you’re just a nerd
And your music cannot be heard
Write your thoughts in Microsoft Word
Post ’em on your blog you nerd turd

“You wanna sing with
The Dazzlings
But you can’t keep up
You’re such a rank amateur

“You’re an amateur next to me
Don’t know the difference between
A minor, B flat, C
You voice is high and squeaky!”

You reel back from the force of the attitude. Stick and stone will break your bones, but words will scar you forever. You put your best foot forward, throw your shoulders back, and say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Gosh you’re annoying
I cannot stand it
You voice is like
Swiper the Bandit
You say singing
Is your mandate
If it was a plane
You couldn’t land it

“Your little pop group
Is out to lunch
It’s like a boxer
Without a punch
Lemme tell yah
You’re in a time crunch
It’s only moments
Before you’re expunged!”

Sonata nearly falls on her bum before she is caught by Aria and Adagio. They prop her up, fear in their eyes, as you lay in with another verse.

“I came to this place
For colorful ponies
To be the envy
Of all bronies
But all I got was
Pop star cronies
I’m really ticked off
At you phonies

“If there’s ever a time
To give up the ghost
Ladies you’re closer
To it than most
Now please excuse
My need to boast
But this battle’s gonna be
My next forum post!”

Sonata jumps forward, her eyes glowing, backed by the other two Dazzlings. The three of them grin wide, evil, predatory grins. Their voices come out simultaneously as they beat you back.

“It’s a killer song
We’re gonna sing
Like a little bird
We’ll clip your wings
‘Cuz those funeral bells
Are gonna ring
You ain’t gotta clue
About anything”

You collapse into a heap as the enchanted crowd gathers around you. They grab at you and drag you closer to the rapping Dazzlings.

“We’re sorry that
We crushed you, truly
But we can’t have
Subjects unruly
If you ask us
Autotune’s groovy
It brought us our powers
After that movie!”

Their last word comes out as a tuneless shriek. They look at each other, their eyes dimming. They take a breath and try again.

“YoU don’t rEally think
You hAve a chance—”

Their jaws drop. They check their microphones and hum a note or two. They look over to the speakers to see what could be wrong.

Sunset Shimmer leans against the sound board, a smartphone in her hand and a small smile on her face. Pinkie shrugs from beside her. “She’s the only one I could find on short notice.”

“Really, you guys?” Sunset says. “You couldn’t think to unplug the Songify app?”

You look down at your shoes as the Dazzlings hightail it out of there. “Oh,” you say.

***

Anon hasn’t stopped squeeing since you met the main six of Equestria Girls. It’s a constant high-pitched whine that burrows into your ear like a tick into flesh.

“Oh my gosh, shut up,” you say for the eleventh time. He ignores you, his question mark reduced to ellipses.

The objects of his outpouring of glee smile at him, but maintain an extended perimeter. Fluttershy hides in the branches of a nearby tree, shaking like the leaves that surround her.

“It was a brave thing you did, rushing at the Dazzlings like that,” Sunset Shimmer says.

“Thanks,” you say, careful not to mention the unspoken agreement that it was also downright stupid. “I couldn’t have done it if the Question here hadn’t rushed in.”

“I had reasonable assurance that my plan would work.” Anon gives you a swift nod. “And it did. Indirectly.”

Applejack clears her throat and pushes you and Anon towards the horse statue just outside the high school. “Well, ah’m sure you two’ve got a real hankerin’ tah get back to where you belong.”

“Yes!” Anon says. “Back where we belong! In Equestria! Because that’s where we came from originally! Totally!”

Applejack sighs. “Ah don’t even care that yer lyin’ through yer teeth.” She wrinkles her nose. “Does he have teeth? Ah can’t rightly… even.”

Pinkie gives you one last wave goodbye as you slip through Twilight Sparkle’s open portal. “Bye, you guys! Have fun in Ponyland!”

You frown as the last bits of your arm are swallowed up by magic. “It’s called Ponyville.”

She gives you a condescending, yet understanding, smile. “I’m sure. Run along now! You were the best creepy stalkers ever!”

“I’m not a stalker!” you try to say, but Anon yanks you into the portal by your collar.

You tumble through a twirling array of kaleidoscopic colors. Your body stretches and reshapes itself as the magic changes you into a form suitable for the new world. You almost shriek as your fingers vanish one by one, but you hold onto the hope that soon, you will be in the company of PONY.

You fall flat on your muzzle. You lift your head and shake it to correct your crossed eyes. Anon is already standing mere feet away on four hooves, staring at the Ponyville castle’s library.

Spike the Dragon toddles in. “Hay, Twilight. I thought you were done in the library for—” He stops when he sees Anon. His eyes grow wide. He spins around on his clawed feet and scrambles for the hallway. “Stranger danger! Stranger danger!”

Anon does not notice this. He stares up at the high-vaulted ceiling and takes in a deep breath. “It’s beautiful!”

He promptly faints dead away.

You get to your feet to help him out. One step is all it takes to get your legs completely tangled up. Your cell phone falls out of its pocket and spirals across the floor. You reach for it, only to bat it further away with your blunt hoof.

You crawl closer to it and try to grasp it between two hooves. It slips from your clutches and clatters to the ground. You stand up, stumble, and crush the phone with an errant misstep.

A scowl slowly, achingly, inexorably spreads across your pony muzzle. “Wow. Hooves suck.”

Author's Note

That was weird. I'm usually one who writes third person, past tense. Still, it had to be done. It begged to be done. It was something that should never have been done, but I didn't pay much attention to that niggling feeling of doubt.

I hope you enjoyed this parody, this satire, this pastiche, this joke taken too far and not far enough. At the very least, you ought to have smiled. Hopefully.

I refuse to apologize for linking those songs or parodying their lyrics. That's right, I'm a delinquent!