Radman Awesomecool looked down at the cheering crowd and spat in their fucking faces to emphasize just how cool he was compared to them. He then focused on the half-pipe (or whatever it's called, I don't really skateboard, I'm just fulfilling a fantasy) in front of him. This is it, no cooler skateboard trick had ever been attempted, and if he succeeded, a trick of more radicoolness would be impossible. Nervously, Radman positioned his board at the end of the ramp and leaned forward.
"Might as well do the easy part first," thought Radman to himself. Sighing, he opened a Schwarzchilds Wormhole, and then held it open with an object of negative mass, creating a two-ended Kip Thorne wormhole. With the easy part out of the way, Radman moved onto the most difficult part of the trick, an Ollie, in MID-AIR!
The second he launched off the ground and started hurtling towards the wormhole, he kicked away from the skateboard, yet somehow managed to keep it connected with his feet. He then popped the tail, moving his foot to the rear nose and pulling the board up with him as he entered the wormhole. The nature of the wormhole itself caused him to do flips, making his Ollie like, fifty times cooler. As he rocketed through the wormhole, he also rocketed through space and time until he was deposited from the other end of the wormhole which was unfortunately a few miles up in the air.
"If I must die, I will die COOL," Radman cried as he pulled out two Capri Suns and sipped both at the same time as he did various flips, spins and tricks. Moments before he collided with the ground, Radman spotted a guardrail with his Skater Vision™. He smirked and placed his board under his feet, shifting his way to the guardrail, and landing on it with his skateboard which didn't break cuz it's made of Vibranium, and skidded across it, leaping off the edge and coming to a complete stop.
Once he'd recovered from doing such a tubular trick, Radman became very aware of his surroundings, and was utterly mortified. He was completely surrounded by tiny horses of varying colors, all with disgustingly disproportionate horse limbs, and big, stupid horse heads, each adorned with equally horrifying horse faces. It was a nightmare world, wrapped in a deceptively well-decorated plethora of pink things. Each house looked like something out of Hansel and Grettyl, sans the cannibal witch and neglectful parents.
Radman barfed all over the nearest horse-thing, and decided to sit down, lest he faint. A million thoughts were swirling through his head.
"This isn't cool," he thought to himself, "this isn't radical, and it certainly isn't tubular." Finally Radman lost his cool, and let out a shrill banshee cry that rattled the bones of the eldritch abominations that surrounded him. He was trapped in the uncanny valley, as though this was some sick freak's combination of real life, and a cartoon show for little girls. But that would be stupid.
Radman rose to his feet, apparently fed up with no longer bearing any form of "cool," and so he reached into his backpack (which he had this whole time) and pulled out some Ghostbusters Ecto-Cooler, with the "ecto" portion of the word scribbled out , and the words "makes me" written above "cooler." Also Slimer's face was covered by a picture of Tony Hawk. Radman took a large swig of the ecto-cooler, and instantly replaced the ghastly frown on his face with a smug smirk that positively oozed coolness. Radman loved ecto-cooler, it was the spinach to his Popeye, the lasagna to his Garfield, the abject misery to his Charlie Brown; what I mean to say is, it makes him stronger, or in the case of Charlie Brown it swells his massive, disgusting, pulsating progeria head to an even more revoltingly large state than it had already been in. Anyway, Radman, now totally cool again, was about to prepare to begin facing his new fate, when he heard a sound from behind.
"Hello brony, I hope you're new here, because you should very well know that being without your master is a federal offense." Radman turned, only to immediately regret that decision, as one of the disgusting horse creatures from before was now a mere three feet away from him. This one was a sickly green color, with a spiraling bony protrusion jutting out from its forehead, and had what appeared to be a mutilated harp printed on the side of its ass.
"Who the heck are you, dude?" inquired Radman.
The green creature sighed and pulled out a clipboard, from where Radman dared not ask, but given how moist it was he only had a few guesses to go on.
"Well, I'm surprised you don't know who I am, all members of your species seem to have an unsettling understanding of many Equestrian things. They're also complete spergs. Either way, my name is Lyra, and I need you to come with me."
Radman placed his hand on his chin, "this expression means i am thinking," he thought to himself before then moving on to think, "well gosh, I don't like camp, but I would hate to anger these freaks."
After some consideration, Radman elected to follow the only creature who had bothered to approach, let alone speak to him, and so off they went. Radman only half paid attention to Lyra along the way, opting to let his eyes wander across the bustling metroplis that lay before him, as well as the castle that appeared to be crudely nailed to the side of a cliff.
"I hope I never have to go there," he thought to himself, "that castle could pretty much collapse at any second."
"Get in," chimed Lyra's voice, penetrating Radman's ears much like a meaty fist penetrates the soft spot on a newborn's head. Radman looked at her and saw that she was pointing to a rickety cart, which was both pulled and surrounded by disturbingly muscular horses, all of whom had rippling muscles, covered with veins. Radman threw up in his mouth a little bit, and decided to use his amazing brain to gather information.
"Where exactly are we going anyway?"
Lyra rolled her eyes and pointed to the previously mentioned castle, at which point Radman decided he was officially completely done with this shit, and hopped on his skateboard in a daring escape attempt.
Tragically, our hero only made it about five feet before he was ensared by some sort of net-like device, which was comprised of a netted rope. Radman's experience and wisdom allowed him to come to the conclusion that this was a device specifically designed to capture living things in a shroud of netted material, but he couldn't quite think of the proper word for it.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" cried Lyra.
"I don't want to go there, it's so rickety looking, I swear it'll collapse at any second, it's like that house from " A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket," and we all know how that turned out!"
Lyra facehooved, "ugh, you really are clueless, you're nothing like the other bronies."
"What the hell is a brony?"
"You don't even know the name of your own species? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"My species is definitely not "brony" you freak-horse, I'm Radman and I'm a fucking human!"
"Whatever, the castle is held up by magic, and the camp is behind the castle in a cave, now come on, not that you have a choice," said Lyra as she dragged Radman into the cart.
The ride to the castle was both obscenely long and awkward, and since Radman was aware that nothing is as cool as interpersonal communication, he opted to break the silence.
"Sooo, Lyra, I'm new to this whole "horrifying horse" situation, so tell me, are you a boy or a girl?" He asked, mockingly imitating Professor Oak.
"First off, we are ponies, not horses, and second, we are not horrifying, in Equestria body shaming is a thing of the past you ugly piece of garbage."
"Wow, you claimed body shaming to be a thing of the past, then body shamed me."
"And?"
"Well you have to appreciate the irony."
"First, that's not how you use the term "irony," second, I'm a social justice warrior, I don't appreciate anything," Lyra replied.
"Whatever, you never answered my question."
"Ugh I'm a girl okay?"
Radman scooted away from her as best he could.
"What now?"
"Girls are gross and have cooties."
"We're here," said one of the cart pullers.
Radman was hefted out of the cart by Lyra, seeing as he was still a little tied up at the moment, and he noticed that the same guards were surrounding the cart, except that they were much sweatier. He put two and two together and surmised that they had been running alongside the cart the whole time, which explained why they were so buff.
"Well, here we are," said Lyra, snapping Radman out of another one of his mental tangents, "welcome Radman, to Ravensbuck."
Radman looked over Lyra's pony-shoulder only to be faced with a gigantic wooden gate.
"Well, I'd normally comment on a stupid pun," said Radman, "but as an American I don't know any Nazi internment camps besides Auschwitz."
he gates opened slowly, too slowly in Radman's opinion. He was a man of speed, which is why he skateboarded so much, it's the fastest mode of transportation. Radman briefly considered escaping.
"I'm briefly considering escaping," said Radman as he considered escaping for a brief amount of time. Of course he forgot to think it instead of say it, so one of the guards overheard.
"Hi, I'm one of the guards, and I overheard you," said one of the guards who overheard him, "I gotta say, that's a bad idea, not only are we built into the side of a cliff, bu-"
"I can skateboard on any angle you fool," said Radman as he rudely interrupted the guard like a rude, interrupting jerk, "I'm so coo-"
"But," said the guard, interrupting fight back, expertly giving Radman a taste of his own medicine, "we'd have to hunt you down and gut you like a fish in the event that you actually managed to escape."
After heavy (yet brief) consideration, Radman decided not to escape, and instead slowly walked through the open doorway before him. The doorway itself lead go a room which funneled to another door, which, in Radman's opinion, made the initial door completely pointless. As he shook his head woefully at the subpar planning that went into the parts of the facility he'd seen thus far, he also opened the considerably smaller door and stepped through yet another doorway.
"Oh goody, a new brony," said a stocky male unicorn who was standing next to several cardboard boxes at the other side of the room, "it's been days since I've made contact with a sentient lifeform."
"Well Hi," said Radman awkwardly, "uhh, one guy in a room? Security seems pretty loose around here."
"Yeah, at first we had more, but bronies seem to be pretty stationary creatures, besides, we're literally right behind the most secure building in Equestria," he said with a wave of his hoof, "plus nobody has tried to escape since the tower guards started wearing the entrails of the eviscerated escapees."
Radman gulped at that last comment. He's a simple man, one who enjoys keeping his intestines from turning into outestines.
"Anyway, I need to get you processed, tell me how you got to Equestria so I can give you your wristband."
"Wristband?"
"Yeah, when we first started putting your species in camps, well...camp, we had to come up with a way to categorize them all before we set you up for adoption, and since the bronies kept giving us the same few stories we categorized them based on that."
Radman looked at the boxes and noticed that they had labels on them, all of which were written in helvetica font, clearly Equestria was big on graphic designers. Disregarding the obscure occupation-based joke that nobody in their right mind would laugh at.
"C'mon," said the guard snapping Radman out of yet another space-outspace-out session.
"Maybe I have a disability," thought Radman.
" Stop spacing out and please tell me how you got here, c'mon was it another flubbed spell by Twilight, did Celestia open a portal? Oh, I know, you were hit by a car and just woke up here instead of dying," said the unicorn excitedly.
"All of those reasons are stupid, I skateboarded through a wormhole."
The unicorn gave Radman a shocked look before walking over to a box of gray wristbands labeled "other." He lifted one with his magical horn, which Radman decided to ask about later, and put it on Radman's wrist.
"I never get to use these, welp, out the door you go, it was nice meeting you," said the unicorn as he shoved Radman into the main camp.
Radman looked out at the Nazi-esque internment camp that lay before him, soaking in the smell of feces and rotting carcasses. Aside from the odor and dead people smell however, it just seemed like a miniature town, albeit with armed tower guards. He noted that is seemed much more like Manzanar than Auschwitz, even with the utter lack of any depressed Asians. The town itself was certainly shoddy, moldy, rickety houses littered the lot, all surrounding a massive bronze vagina. Beyond that was a smattering of cafeterias, and various other run-down buildings. At the far end was a stage, with a hanging station, complete with an ominous noose.
"Hey skinny man!" Came a shrill voice smothered in neckfat, "get over here."
Radman complied, hopping on his skateboard and cruising to the source of the sound. He arrived in seconds, aided by his skateboard technology, and came to a stylish halt in front of this new human.
"Dude, I don't know who you are, but you need to hide!"
"What for my rotund friend?"
"IT'S A MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!" came the shrillest, most annoying and neck-fat-smothered voice yet.
Radman turned to see a majestic humpback whale lumbering toward him. He stared in awe, he'd never seen one before, especially not this far away from the ocean. He opened his arms in an inviting gesture, wishing to greet the gentle giant with a hug. At least, he would have, had he not seen the Tumblr logo on the beasts shirt, and the " this is what a feminist looks like" cardboard sign in its right hand.
"That's ableist!" shrieked the beast in a dialect almost recognizable as human speech, reading his thoughts thanks to the endless predictability of men, "some people don't have hands! Fucking bigot!"
"What's your problem bro?" inquired Radman.
The creature's eyes went blank, and Radman was almost certainly positive that it had just suffered from a heart attack.
This was not to be however, as the fat feminist's face began to turn an even darker shade of red. Steam billowed from it's nose and ears, as the sweat on its skin evaporated from the heat.
"DON'T YOU MISGENDER ME YOU CRETIN, I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE A BA IN WOMEN'S STUDIES AND I WON'T STAND FOR TRANSPHOBIC FOOLS LIKE YOU! AS AN AGENDER DEMISEXUAL NECROQUEER I AM TO BE CALLED IT/THEY/SKREEP." It screamed, blasting diabetes, childhood obesity, and a litany of other fat-people diseases at poor Radman, who felt a bit slippery after being covered in the butter particles that laced skreep's every breath.
"My apologies skreep," replied Radman, who still kept his cool, "I didn't mean to trigger your obviously real PTSD, I was just expressing my otherkin nature."
Skreep visibly calmed down, taking on a much more pleasant stance.
"Hey now, why didn't you just say so earlier? What kind of kin are you? What are your pronouns?"
"Well skreep, they are skater/skateboard/skateself."
"Simply fascinating," the skreep replied, "come with us to our support group and introduce yourself."
Skreep lead Radman through the shoddily constructed culdesac, idly making conversation with Radman as they walked.
"You'll love it here, we have tons of food, lots of pointless protests, and a legion of chemically castrated bronies who do whatever we say because they understand that as powerful, oppressive, privileged beings they are subservient to us," she said as she walked along the backs of preteen bronies to keep her feet from touching the filthy ground, "what's your name anyway?"
"Radm- uhhh, Radfem Awesomecool," lied Radman through his pearly chompers.
Skreep tilted her uppermost mass of sweaty chins back and chortled.
"You'll fit in here."
When they arrived at the only well constructed building, Radfem stepped in without knocking. He was a cool guy who needn't adhere to the rules like some loser.
What he saw when he focused his viewing orbs on the room was so repulsive that Radfem had to literally choke himself in order to not puke.
It was a gargantuan creature, twice as massive as Skreep, who now looked like Farrah Fawcet in her prime.
"Mowakka hoopa tweepie Solo, hohoho." Shrieked the beast.
"The feminist queen says she is delighted to have a new woman on the crew," explained Anita Sarkeesian, who was chained up in a bikini.
"Hey I've seen you," said Radfem to Anita, "aren't you a feminist icon? Why are you chained up?"
"I-"
Upon her first syllable Anita was struck with a bat and dragged into another room.
"Anita has committed the heinous crime of being reasonable to look at, see, in order to promote body positivity we've outlawed hotness."
"So only ugly people are allowed to feel good about themselves?"
"Han ma boo-kee, keelee ka-lya dooka. Wadja da boolya ra Moy." Replied the Feminist Queen.
"The Feminist Queen says 'not necessarily," explained a newly bound Zoe Quinn, "basically if someone is white, thin, hot, a man, cis, straight, or able-bodied then you're a bigot by default and must check your privilege."
"So like, a homeless man is more privileged than Oprah?"
"Yes, wealth, social status and occupation are irrelevant, the only things that matter are gender, orientation, and skin color."
"Isn't that classist, racist, sexist, etc?"
"Not if you hate white men."
"But that makes no sense."
"TRIGGERED!!!" Cried ~~Jabba~~Feminist Queen. Instantly the various fat women in the group melded into one, combining with the Feminist Queen to form a gigantic amorphous blob of pure anger and retardation. The hideous blob rushed towards Radfem, who in turn bolted out the door and skateboarded away as fast as he could. He traveled about a hundred feet before turning back to see that the beast had died of a heart attack.
"Well that was easy."
