You've popped into a strange new land filled with magical talking creatures that look like horses. Unfortunately, you've popped in at about the last place that you'd possibly want to, hanging from a weather-vane atop Sugarcube Corner with arms and legs dangling helplessly. Just a few minutes later, you find yourself in a clinic tended to by a smooth, sleek pony with the looks of a fashion model and the caring, tender personality of a saint. You don't know what to do about these weird new feelings.

Please note the mature rating. Thanks very much for reading.

=> Dear sweet merciful Celestia, I am so not prepared for finals that it makes me ill.