London, England
“Mr. O’bama, sir, it’s a message!”
“From Equestria, is it?”
“Yes, sir. They’re under attack!”
Barry “Barrack” O’bama, the eighty-seventh Emperor-king-president-minister of the Known Universe marched to the console with broken reading glasses in hand. A dark-skinned Irishman on his fifth five-year term in office, he was starting to feel his age. After the recent victory over the Ones From Beyond, he had but one thing on his mind: avoid confrontation for one more month and retire to Hawaii.
The chain of blocky green text scrolled onto the black screen (just like the special effects in The Matrix). The lackey in the chair back away as the Emperor-king-president-minister approached, his hands waving hysterically above his head.
Changelings attacking Canterlot. Royal Guards under pressure, defences failing. Send help.
Throwing the glasses across the room, Barry jammed his fists against his eyelids before hammering out a reply on the keyboard.
Are my people safe?
For several tense minutes there was no reply, and then:
wqqonsafs sbgawneq12
The war room (Barry is in a war room, by the way) was completely silent, save for the humming of the Gateway. The bodyguards had their guns pointed at the slowly-churning wall of luminous blue plasma lest something would appear.
“Mr. Emperor-king-president-minister,” said one of the men. “You should leave.”
“No,” Barry said, putting up one hand. “Ms. O’tenson, switch the gate to one-way. Make sure nothing comes through. Larry, get me a line to him.”
A collective gasp went around the room.
“Y… You can’t be serious,” Larry said between puffs on an extra-large inhaler. “Not… him! He’s unpredictable! Dangerous!”
“And that’s exactly what we need,” Barry said.
Larry picked up the phone, his chubby hand shaking so much that he misdialed several times before one of the bodyguards stepped in. Relief washed over his red face.
“H… He’s not picking up,” he said. “He’s in India donating another kidney to an orphan.”
“Dammit!” Barry yelled, banging his fist on the console. “Get me a helicopter! We have people in Equestria! Time is ticking!”
Somewhere in India
The clinic was lit with candles; barely bright enough for a normal surgeon, but he was no normal surgeon.
A product of a millennium-long breeding program, Gary A. Stewart was the pinnacle of human evolution. Standing at ~~7~~ 8 feet he towered above all the common folk. His hair was lustrous black, dark as the night. ~~double~~ ~~triple~~ quadruple-muscled, he weighed in at more than five hundred pounds, and could lift ten times that. Artists flocked like hummingbirds to paint his perfect, unblemished face.
In the faculties of the mind he lacked nothing. By age eight he had mastered half of all known languages, and now he spoke them all. With ten PhD’s completed in five years, he was the most educated man in history. His Nobel Prize medals were abundant enough to be made into a belt for his sizable waist. In fact, such a belt was holding up his pants at this very moment.
His muscular back glistened with sweat. An intricate pattern of dark blotches spanned from the lower left side of his back to his right shoulder. Most people assumed it to be a tattoo upon first seeing it, and a reasonable person would not blame them.
Birthmarks were rarely that perfect.
He finished suturing his side. The wound had already stopped bleeding.
Third kidney this week, he thought. If only I had a better healing factor, I could help even more people.
The child would not wake up for a few more minutes. Seeing him sleeping so peacefully brought a single tear to Gary’s iridescent purple eye.
Go on. Be happy. Have the childhood I never got.
Having lost both parents and every living relative in a tragic fire caused by a plane crash in the alley where they were taking family portraits, Gary had been raised since the tender age of five by the Emperor-king-president-minister’s Secret Service. Over the years he rose in rank, until he became director of the Secret Service, the second most powerful man in the known universe.
Then it happened.
Gary wiped his eyes and looked at the palms of his perfect hands. He had everything: respect; fame; fortune; a kickass sword collection. Yet something felt off. He had lost something somewhere; a part of his soul. And now, nearly a year after leaving the Secret Service behind, he was no closer to finding it.
The distant sound of a helicopter caught his attention. His superhuman hearing allowed him to discern the make and model of the aircraft, and what he heard was not promising.
He gave the sleeping child one gentle pat on the shoulder before exiting the clinic.
“Get him to the recovery room,” he said to the nurses waiting outside. “Call me if there’s a problem.”
“Oh, thank you, Gary!” One of them said, giving him a peck on the cheek before hurrying into the operating room.
Gary spoke to no one as he marched out of the hospital. The helicopter was still a ways away, with a searchlight pointed at the ground. He buttoned up his shirt just as the light fell on him.
“Agent BlndDog! Get in!”
Most people could not discern a voice through the deafening noise of a helicopter blade, but Gary could.
The aircraft did not need to land. Gary easily sprang the ~~fifty~~ sixty feet, grabbing onto the landing gears with one hand. The other he twirled above his head, signalling the pilot to leave.
“I don’t go by that title anymore,” he said when he climbed into the cabin. “I’m retired!”
“Sorry sir,” said a pilot, an ordinary-looking Irishman. “It’s an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?” Gary asked as the coastline passed below.
“Don’t know sir,” he replied. “Mr. O’bama would not say.”
“He better have a damn good reason,” Gary said. “Where is he?”
“London,” said the pilot.
Gary’s heart sank.
Not this again.
War Room, London, England
“Why is he called ‘BlndDog’?” Angela O’tenson asked.
The tension in the war room had dissipated somewhat. Two bodyguards watched the stargate at all times. So far nothing had come through, and the message feed was equally unexciting. Most of the scientists had been evacuated, except for a handful of technicians to keep everything running.
“It’s unassuming,” Barry said, staring thoughtfully into the glowing blue portal. “He’s a very deep character, you know? He’s this huge guy, strongest and smartest man in the world and everything, but he’s also really sensitive. He doesn’t want to intimidate anyone.”
“That’s so sweet,” Angela said.
They barely heard the helicopter before the big glass ceiling came crashing down. The bodyguards turned their attention upwards. A few shots were fired. All of them missed.
The shirtless man landed in a crouching position, leaving a small crater in the concrete floor. Clinging on to his muscular back was a dazed-looking bikini-clad Swedish supermodel.
“You still know how to make an entrance, I see,” Barry said drily, crossing his arms. “And who is your friend here?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Gary said, looking at the woman as if for the first time. “I saw here over the ocean. She was about to get eaten by sharks, and I couldn’t just leave her.”
“Well, she has to go,” Barry said sternly.
Gary lowered the woman to the ground. She kissed him on the cheek before the bodyguards grabbed her and took her out of the room.
“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone,” Gary snapped, rounding on the Emperor-king-president-minister. “You wonder why I left? Well, this is part of it!”
The remaining bodyguards formed a formidable wall, which nevertheless did nothing to slow Gary’s advance.
“That thing is dangerous! I did my best to destroy everything in my lab before I left, and somehow you still managed to get this working. What have you been using it for?”
“Just to contact the aliens,” Barry said, wiping nervous sweat off his brow as he backed away.
“They’re not aliens!” Gary said. “They’re beings from another dimension! Don’t tell me you’ve sent people through this thing!”
“Well, yes,” Barry said. “Look, they were just some street kids. The other side seemed really nice, and there’s not enough money in the budget for…”
“How many ‘street kids’?” Gary interrupted, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“About a thousand,” Barry said slowly.
“You sent the entire orphanage to Equestria?” Gary screamed.
“I’m sorry!” Barry said. Backed against the wall, he sank to his knees and grabbed onto Gary’s glorious golden belt of Nobel Prize medals. “I had to balance the budget, and this portal gave me so many options! It was so tempting, and so easy!”
Gary took a deep calming breath and turned to the portal.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Equestria is under attack,” Barry said as he dusted himself off and joined Barry in front of the stargate. “Something called ‘changelings’. You see, I negotiated a deal with the other side; with ‘Canterlot’, whatever that means. Princess Celestia, their leader, agreed to take as many people as I can send, if we agreed to send help when she is in danger. Now they need help.”
“What do I get?” Gary asked.
“If Canterlot falls, who knows what will happen to the orphans?”
Gary looked long and hard at Barry.
“When I come back, I’m taking your job.”
“I’m counting on that, m’boy.” Barry had a sad look in his eyes. “You know, it didn’t have to go like this. These last few years. But this is not time to dwell on the past.”
The door flew open, and half a dozen balding men in lab coats and thick glasses entered the room pushing rattling trolleys.
“Your gear,” Barry said. “And a few new things.”
Gary went to the first trolley. The orderly trembled as he approached. Balanced precariously across a standard specimen tray was a giant ancient badass enchanted Japanese sword. Its hilt and scabbard were decorated with gold-leaf images of wild horses, and the metal of its blade glowed with a faint blue light.
His ornate black armor was spread out over five carts. Forged inside a volcano and fastened with leather from the last dragon, it was truly a masterpiece. The helmet alone weighed ~~100~~ 150 pounds, and most people could not move the chestplate.
“I have all I need,” Gary said as he tightened the straps around his chest and adjusted the sword on his back.
“One more thing,” Barry said, putting his hand on Gary’s.
The contents of the last cart was unexpected. The most prominent item was a mint green plush toy with big eyes; a cartoon pony. ~~She~~ it had a gold lyre as its quarter mark. Beside the toy was a black metal rod.
“Something new we developed while you were gone,” Barry explained, lifting the second object off the tray. It was slightly too big to hold comfortably. “Mark 15 Laser Pen.”
Aiming it at the metal wall, Barry flicked the switch. A blinding green beam burst from the business end, accompanied by a whirring noise. Sparks exploded from the target, and a second later there was a smouldering red circle where the beam had hit.
“I don’t like laser pens,” Gary said. “The Mark 14 burned out my eye, remember? That’s why I’m technically a cyborg now.”
“That was a mere engineering oversight,” Barry said rather defensively. “The Mark 15 is designed especially for you. Just take it with you, okay?”
“And what is the toy for?” Gary asked.
“For hiding the laser,” Barry said.
Quickly he stuffed the laser into the toy, and handed the entire package to Gary. The entire process made Gary rather uncomfortable.
“Take care,” Barry said, patting Gary’s chestplate and looking solemnly into his eyes.
Gary sighed and turned back to the portal. It was tall, but he had to duck a little in order to pass through.
It felt like falling, but a lot faster. Gary closed his eyes. A powerful wind howled all around him, and through his eyelids he saw flashing lights and incredible images. He clung to the plush toy with one hand, keeping the other on the hilt of his sword.
And then it was over. Gary barely managed to land on his feet. The force of impact made him release the toy. The armor rattled on his back.
“Pah!”
Gary jumped in surprise.
Standing on the pavement beside him was a mint green pony with a picture of a golden lyre on her flank. Her mane was a complete mess, and she was spitting and coughing. On the ground in front of her was a saliva-soaked metal rod.
“What was that for?” She said, kicking the thing away.
“Where did you come from?” Gary gasped, reaching out to pat down her mane with one gigantic but gentle hand.
“I’m Lyra,” the pony replied. “I... Gah!”
A glistening black and blue creature tackled Lyra to the ground. The black fangs in its griming mouth were dripping with green slime.
“Lyra!”
The poor changeling did not even get to react before it disappeared. Its hard carapace whistled as it sailed through the air, higher, higher, higher, finally disappearing with a glint and a chime.
“Are you okay?” Gary asked, helping her up.
“Yeah, fine,” Lyra said. “I can take care of myself.”
“You should stay with me,” he said, effortlessly picking the pony up and placing her on his right shoulder. He paused at the laser pen in the puddle of drool.
“Take this,” he said, handing it to Lyra. “Careful where you aim it.”
Standing tall, Gary turned in a slow circle. The city around him was full of huge white buildings. To the north was a steep mountain side with a magnificent white castle clinging on for dear life. The red dusk sky was filled with swarming black shapes. Terrified screams and rustling chitinous wings filled the streets, and dust and smoke rose from gaily-painted rooftops.
“Alright Lyra,” Gary said under his breath. “Let’s do this.”
The nearest pair of changelings barely had time to look up before Gary’s fist collided with their faces. They sailed through the air, vanishing into the higher atmosphere with a sonic rainboom that surprised even Gary.
For a split second Canterlot was silent. And then sound of a ~~thousand~~ million beating wings filled the air. The sky grew dark as the entire changeling invasion force rose into the air.
Gary stood there stoically. Lyra clutched the laser pen close to her chest, with a determined look on her face.
“Come and get me you filthy changelings!” Gary cried.
Gary was no killing changelings as much as punting, punching and hurling them into orbit.
The laser in Lyra's hooves burned red hot as she hit one changeling after another, making them explode like gooey water balloons. It was hard to aim with Gary moving around so much, but the changelings were swarming so thick it was hard to miss.
Lyra was still a little groggy. The last thing she remembered was following a tall bipedal figure towards a blue portal. Everything after was like a hazy dream.
Changelings again? she thought. I thought that thing at the wedding would keep them away for a few months at least.
After half a day of fighting Gary did not looked tired. But then, the changeling horde did not dwindle either. It seemed they were doomed to fight forever.
Suddenly a new sound cut through the commotion; a low hum at first, suddenly exploding into a rapid chain of deep tones. The changeling squeaked as they were shot FULL OF HOT LEAD! YEAH!
Sorry
Noticing the sudden change, the remaining drones scattered, but not without a few angry hisses at the giant armored man covered in changeling slime.
Lyra and Gary turned together towards the source of the noise.
"Great Odin's Ravens!" Gary gasped. "Is that..."
A magnificent purple alicorn stood at the edge of the square, her horn and eyes glowing with a powerful aura. Her golden horseshoes and gem-encrusted breastplate were dulled from use, and the tip of her crown was crumpled. Floating beside her were a pair of smoldering Gatling guns, both still connected to obscenely long bullet chains. Her teeth were exposed up to the gums in an angry scowl.
Slowly the guns rotated to face Gary.
"Twilight?" Gary said slowly, reaching out with an open hand. "Twilight, it's me! Anon! Well, technically that's my middle name... I'm married to Fluttershy! Don't you remember?"
The guns began to cycle, slowly at first.
Suddenly Lyra felt Gary's strong hand on her back. She was thrown not too gently behind the gigantic man, who stood his ground.
"Twilight, what happened?" Gary asked as the noise of the guns grew louder and louder. "Why are you so big? Where are the rest of your friends? I just got here a few hours ago!"
Tears welled up in Twilight's glowing eyes. The guns dropped to the ground, and she looked down at her hooves.
Gary approached slowly, with both hands held open in front of him. When he was within reach he put one hand on Twilight's mane. Lyra came up behind him, with the laser floating in her own levitation spell in case the drones returned.
"What kept you?" Twilight said quietly, shaking off Gary's hand.
"What do you mean?" Gary asked. "I went back to Earth no more than..."
"Five hundred years!" Twilight screamed, pushing Gary back with a blast of her magic. "Fluttershy waited for you! To her last day she waited for you! They're all dead, Anon! Every one of them! And now you're back, with your muscles and brains and sick martial arts moves! Why are you here?"
The laser dropped to the ground. Lyra fell on her side, her mouth slack and her eyes wide open.
No. No! Nononono! That can't be right! I...
A single tear rolled down her cheek, falling onto the slimy ground and disappearing instantly. She began to tremble. Twilight was still talking; screaming, in fact, but Lyra could not understand a single word.
Gary walked over to her. He took off his vambrace and gloves and gently picked up the distraught unicorn. He petted her mane gently as he spoke. His eyes were glistening with sadness, and his powerful heart pounded, but he refused to succumb.
"Twilight," he said, putting his left hand on the alicorn's folded wing. "I know you. I know you have a plan. You always have a plan. So what is it?"
"It'll never work," Twilight said.
"You're telling me that with your planning and my brute strength we can't do anything about this?" Gary deadpanned. "The Twilight I knew would never give up. Not when Equestria hangs in the balance. Now, what do you want me to do?"
Twilight took a few deep breaths and looked to the horizon with a new fire in her eyes.
"The Elements of Harmony are gone," Twilight said. "Long story, maybe I can tell you later. The Royal Guards are captured or scattered, and I don't think any civilians escaped from Canterlot. We need to act fast. The Changelings have a new Queen: Chrysalis II. She's bigger, tougher, and craftier than the first. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are imprisoned in the throne room, and so is Flash Sentry."
"Your personal guard?" Gary said, his perfect brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to recall details from his pervious visit.
"My husband," Twilight said flatly.
"Oh," Gary said. "Okay, so I go up to that castle there and open up a big can of whup ass! Easy!"
"Oh Anon," Twilight said with a knowing, almost motherly smile.
"Call me Gary, okay?" Gary interrupted. "Anon's my middle name. My friends don't call me that, and you're my friend. Please, just call me Gary."
"Okay Gary," Twilight said. "I was like you once, you know. So intelligent, yet just a hair short of the mark. There's an logical and much easier solution to our conundrum."
Putting one hoof to her lips, Twilight blew a mighty whistle.
A roar answered her, loud enough to snap Lyra out of her torpor. Gigantic membranous wings blocked out the sky. Iridescent purple scales shone in the light of dusk, and long green crests flared across the dragon's back. In each hand he held a changeling. Reaching the peak of his flight, he threw them at the ground. They struck the hard street in fiery fireballs.
"Is that..." Gary's eyes reflected the green flames that exploded from the dragon's mouth.
"Spike, at your service," said the drake as he landed. His voice had become a mellow baritone with age. Hos eyes were as big as serving plates.
"Spike, I need your help," Twilight said, flying up to the dragon's shoulder.
"Wait a minute," Spike interrupted, lowering his head to street level to look closely at Gary.
Lyra turned her face into Gary's chest and began shaking.
"Yes, it's Anon," Twilight said. "Now, as I was saying..."
She lifted Spike's ear flap and whispered her plan. Spike's crests flared in excitement, and a mischievous smile curled his lips.
"Ah, I see," he said. "Gary, is it? Good to have you back. Now come on."
He lowered his head and gestured toward his long neck. After a moment Gary realized the dragon's intention.
"You can't be serious," he said.
"You're the one that asked," Twilight said, settling down between two of Spike's back spines. "Come on, Spike knows what he's doing."
Gary held tight to Lyra as the dragon took off. The wind rustled his hair as the ruins of Canterlot slowly receded below him. Gary kept his face set, but deep down he was giddy as a schoolboy on Christmas Morning.
In less than a minute the party passed the castle gate. The royal garden was black with changelings. Spike breathed a giant burst of fire to make them disperse.
"Okay, just let us down in the garden," Twilight said.
"Hey, Twilight," Spike said, looking upwards at the ivory towers. "You remember that thing I always wanted to do, but you never let me?"
"What?" Twilight's eyes widened in horror. "Spike, no! Not right now!"
Suddenly the dragon angled upwards. Gary held onto Spike's slippery scales for dear life, while Twilight took off from the dragon's back and took Lyra in a levitating spell.
Spike landed on the peak of the tower, kicking off roughly half of the shingles.
"I am the Uberdragon!" He hollered, flaring out his wings and raising his fists above his head.
Looking down, Gary saw the glass ceiling of the throne room beneath him.
Well, it's not the first time.
He let go of the dragon and fell. As the surface came closer, he drew his sword and gritted his teeth. There were changelings inside, and ponies glued to the floor with sickly green mounds of changeling slime.
"I'm coming for you, Chrysalis," Gary said under his breath.
Twilight was still hovering overhead, looking down with a horrified expression. Lyra kicked in midair, as if she wanted to join Gary in his majestic fall.
Looking up, Gary smiled and gave the ponies a thumb up.
”and then Bam! Boom! Kasplooy!”
The green mare leapt onto the big oaken desk, sending up an explosion of paperwork.
The donkey behind the desk stared at her with a thoroughly unamused expression as a few sheets of densely-printed paper landed in his foot-tall hairpiece.
“…And then he goes into the castle to see Chrysalis disguised as Princess Celestia. And she tries to seduce him, but at the last moment he sees through her disguise, and then he…”
Quick Buck dug his hoof into his eyelid.
“Miss Heartstrings…”
“… And then we have a post-credit scene that starts with a close up of Gary’s old ID card…”
“Miss Heartstrings…”
“… We can have Michael Hay direct the second film, where Barry’s son…”
“Miss Heartstrings!”
Lyra stopped midsentence, her face still frozen in an absurdly wide smile that would haunt Quick Buck’s nightmares for many years to come.
“Miss Heartstrings,” he said again, breathing slowly and deeply. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I must remind you that AssCo Playthings Ltd. has a long history of producing quality toys. The core of the My Little Human: Commandos toy line is the serious, realistic, gritty tone.”
“That’s exactly what you have!” Lyra said, putting her face much too close to Buck’s. “You have helicopters, swords, lasers… LASERS! The laser pen can be an accessory!”
“Oh for the…” Buck wiped his forehead on his tie and slammed his hoof onto the big red button in front of him. “Security! Send somepony up to escort Miss Heartstrings out of the building.”
The colour drained from Lyra’s face.
“No, wait!” She said. “There’s more. You haven’t even heard about the long-term plan! The films are just the beginning! Imagine…”
The doors flew open, and two gigantic donkeys in dark sunglasses and security t-shirts walked in.
“Your ideas are greatly appreciated.” Buck signed heavily. It was only a formality, but saying those word made him sick. “Please feel free to peruse our gift shop on the second floor, and direct any questions to the main floor receptionist. Have a nice day.”
Even insulated doors could not completely block out the mare’s desperate screaming and blubbering.
Quick Buck groaned and slammed his face onto the desk. The selection process for the toy reboots had dragged on for weeks, and the ideas seemed to get worse and worse.
Okay, you can do this.
Emptying his entire flask of fine apple whiskey, he reached for the clipboard with the list of his appointments and obliterated “Lyra Heartstrings” with half a bottle of ink. He picked up the papers without much organizing and checked his hair in the mirror behind his desk.
After a few moments the door to his office swung open. He swallowed a lump as the shadow grew longer.
Celestia have mercy!
A rather unassuming mare entered the room, carrying a thick and well-used sketch book. Her long red mane was combed neatly, and her coat was well-groomed. She was wearing a clean white collar fastened with a red ribbon.
Buck sighed inwardly and forced himself to smile.
“Hello,” he said. “My name is Quick Buck, and I am the CEO of AssCo Playthings. Tell me a bit about yourself.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Quick Buck,” the mare said with a genuine smile. “My name is Laurel Fire…”
Author's Note
April Fools!
