A friendly pony community where the sun is hot, the moon is a prison to an ancient princess, and mysterious stars blink overhead while we all sleep. Welcome to Ponyville.
Hello listeners. To start things off I’ve been asked to read this brief notice: Mayor Mare announces the opening of a new carrot farm at the corner of Mule and Troff st. near Sweet Apple Acres. They would like to remind everyone that carrots are not allowed in the carrot farm. Ponies are not allowed in the carrot farm. It is possible you will see an orange and sometimes green maned pony going in the carrot farm. Do not approach her. Do not approach the carrot farm. The fence is electrified and highly dangerous. Try not to look at the carrot farm, and especially do not look for any period of time at the orange mare. The carrot farm will not harm you.
And now the news.
Old Granny Smith out near Sweet Apple Acers says the humans revealed themselves to her; said they were ten feet tall, long legs, and one of them had a guitar; said they helped her with various household chores. One of them fixed a broken floorboard on the porch. She’s offering to sell the old floorboard, which has been touched by a human. It was the one with the guitar, if that sweetens the pot for anypony. If you’re interested, contact Old Granny Smith. She’s out near Sweet Apple Acres.
A new mare came into town today. Who is she? What does she want from us? Why her perfect and beautiful manecut? Why her perfect and beautiful coat? She says she is Celestia's prized pupil. Well, we have all been Celestia's prized pupil at one point or another in our lives. But why now? Why here? And just what does she plan to do with all those breakers and humming electrical instruments in that tree she is renting—the one next to Sugar Cube Corner? No one does a cake like Sugar Cube Corner.
No one.
Just a reminder to all the parents out there. Let’s talk about safety when taking your fillies and colts out to play. You need to give them plenty of water, make sure there’s a shade tree in the area, and keep an eye on the hot air balloon colors. Are the unmarked hot air balloons circling the area black? Probably Celestia’s Spies. Not a good area for play that day. Are they blue? That’s the Mayor’s Royal Guard. They’ll keep a good eye on your kids, and hardly ever take one. Are they painted with complex murals depicting birds of prey diving? No one knows what those hot air balloons are, or what they want. Do not play in the area. Return to your home, and lock the doors until a Mayor’s Royal Guard leaves a carnation on your porch to indicate that the danger has passed. Cover your ears to blot out the screams. Also, remember: fruit punch is basically soda, so give your kids plain old water, and maybe some orange slices when they play.
A commercial flying chariot flying through local airspace disappeared today, only to reappear in the Ponyville’s Elementary gymnasium during hoofball practice, disrupting practice quite badly. The jet roared through the small gym for only a fraction of a second, and before it could strike any players or structure, it vanished again, this time apparently for good. There is no word yet on if or how this will affect Ponyville Hydra's game schedule, and also, if this could perhaps be the work of their bitter rivals the Canterlot's Wonderbolts. Canterlot is always trying to show us up through fancier uniforms, better pregame snacks, and possibly, by transporting a flying chariot into our gymnasium, delaying practice for several minutes at least. For shame, Canterlot. For shame.
That new scientist, we now know is named Twilight Sparkle, called a town meeting. She has a square jaw and hair like a ruler. Her mane is perfect, and we all hate and despair and love that perfect mane in equal measure. Old Granny Smith brought apple pie, which were decent, but lacked salt. She said the humans had taken her salt for a human mission, and she hadn’t yet gotten around to buying more. Twilight told us that we are, by far, the most scientifically interesting community in Equestria and she had come to study just what is going around here. She grinned, and everything about her was perfect, and I fell in love instantly. Royal guards from a Celestia’s agency were in the back watching. I fear for Twilight. I fear for Ponyville. I fear for anypony caught between what they know and what they don’t yet know that they don’t know.
We received a press release this morning. The Ponyville Business Association is proud to announce the opening of the brand new Ponyville Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area. I have been to these facilities myself recently on their invitation, and I can tell you that it is absolutely top of the line and beautiful. Sturdy docking areas made from eco-friendly post-consumer material, a boardwalk for pedestrians, and plenty of stands ready for local food vendors and merchants to turn into a bustling public marketplace. Now, there is some concern about the fact that, given we are in the middle of plains, there is no actual water at the waterfront—and that is a definite drawback, I agree. For instance, the boardwalk is currently overlooking a rather large meadow. The Business Association did not provide an specific remedies for this problem, but they assured me that the new harbor would be a big boost to Ponyville nonetheless. Maybe wait until a flash flood and head down there for the full waterfront experience.
The local chapter of the NUA is stickers as part of their fundraising week. They sent the station one to get some publicity, and we’re here to serve the community so I’m happy to let you all know about it. The stickers are made from good, sturdy vinyl, and they read, ‘Unicorn horns Don’t Kill People; It’s Impossible To Be Killed By magic; We Are All Invincible To Magic And It’s A Miracle.’ Stand outside of your front door and shout, “NUA,” to order one.
Twilight and her dragon warn that one of the houses in the new development area of Ponyville, doesn’t actually exist. It seems like it exists, explained Twilight and her perfect hair, like it’s just right there when you look at it. And it’s between two identical houses, so it would make more sense for it to be there then not. But, she says, they have done experiments, and the house is definitely not there. At news time, the two are standing together in front of the nonexistent house, daring each other to go knock on the door.
A great howling was heard from the Ponyville Post Office yesterday. Postal workers claim no knowledge, although passersby described the sound as being a little like a filly’s soul being destroyed through black magic. Derpy Hooves—now, I don’t know if you’ve seen this mare around; she’s the one who appears a normal pegasus, yet has messed up cross eyes, and claims to muffin powers—she appeared on the scene, and swore that she would discover the truth. No one responded because it’s really hard to take her seriously with her eyes like the way they are.
Lights, seen in the sky near the moon. Not the stars; something higher and beyond that. We know the difference. We’ve caught onto their game. We understand the lights-above-the-star's game. Luna’s stars from another world. Fillies and Gentlecolts, the future is here, and it’s about a hundred feet away from the moon.
Twilight and her dragon at the library near Sugar Cube Corner say their seismic monitors have been indicating wild seismic shifts, meaning to say that the ground should be going up all over the place. Twilight says that they’ve double-checked the monitors and they are in perfect working order. To put it plainly, there appears to be catastrophic earthquakes happening right here in Ponyville that absolutely no one can feel. Well, submit an insurance claim anyway, see what you can get, right?
The sun didn’t set at the correct time today, Twilight and her dragon reports. They are quite certain about it. They checked multiple clocks, and the sun definitely set ten minutes later than it was supposed to. I asked them if they had any explanations, but they had no idea why Celestia was late today. Still, we must be grateful to have the sun at all. It’s easy to forget in this hot climate, but things would actually be slightly harder for us without the sun. The next time the sun rises, whatever time that turns out to be.
The Princess would like to remind you about the Humans, and the dimension of the humans. The reminder is that you should not know anything about this. The structure of their world and the crazy organizational chart are privileged information known only to the princesses on a need-to-know basis. Please, do not speak to or acknowledge any humans that you might come across while shopping at the Sweet Apple Acres or at the Crystal Mountains and Sugar Cube Corner. They only tell lies, and do not exist. Report all human sightings to the mayor for treatment.
And now for a brief public service announcement. Timberwolves. Can they kill your fillies? Yes.
Along those lines, to get personal for a moment, I think the best way to die would be swallowed by a giant hydra. Going hooves first and whole into a slimy maw would give your life perfect symmetry.
Speaking of the Sugar Cube Corner, its owner, Mr. Cake, reports that he has found the entrance to a vast underground city in behind of the ovens. He said he has not yet ventured into it, merely peered down at its strange spires and broad avenues. He also reports voices of a distant crowd in the depths of that subterranean metropolis. Apparently, the entrance was discovered when it broke, and he had to get it fixed—so, you know, whatever population that city has, they know about us now, and we might be hearing from them very soon.
Twilight, perfect and beautiful, came into our studios during the break earlier, but declined to stay for an interview. She had some sort of blinking box in her hooves covered with wires and tubes. Said she was testing the place for materials. I don’t know what materials she meant, but that box sure whistled and beeped a lot. When she put it close to the microphone it sounded like, well, like a bunch of baby birds had just woken up, really went crazy. Twilight looked nervous. She left in a hurry. Told us to evacuate the building. But then, who would be hear to talk sweetly to all of you out there? Settling in to be another clear night and pretty evening here in Ponyville. I hope all of you out there have someone to sleep through it with, or, at least, good memories of when you did.
Good night, listeners. Good night.
