Iron Wing and the Demolition Crew

Chapters

Rainbow - I Am the Rallying Cry
Maud - I Am the Siege Weapon
Pinkamena - I Am the Destroyer
Sequel Out Now!

Rainbow - I Am the Rallying Cry

We hear them before we see them.

There are no barbaric chants. There are no screams of pain, or lashes of whips. There is only the crunch of snow beneath their hooves and the swish of their armor, echoing a hundred thousand times until it's louder than drums. It seems like such a normal noise, but I see the shivers run through our troops. Right now, strength doesn't matter to them. Nopony is thinking about our training, nopony is looking at the princess standing on top of the hill, and none of them are telling themselves that the crystal ponies are barely more than mindless shells. All they know is that Sombra's army has come, and they are many.

I look around at the Wonderbolts. If they have any fear in them, they aren't showing it. There's barely so much as a tremble in our ranks, and these helmets hide our faces so much that only our eyes are left to show what we're feeling. I don't see fear in those eyes, nor do I see doubt or hatred. I see the same steely look of determination that I've practiced in front of the mirror, this time reflected in all of them. They are my brothers, and my sisters. They are my battalion.

I take a step forward, and spread my wings. The whirr and clank of the mechanism, though small in the face of the marching, still draws the attention of everypony in earshot. The grunts in golden armor look to me, and I see admiration and hope. Just looking at me is melting their fears away. But it's not enough. They need to be brave.

"Tell me who you are." I don't raise my voice. I've never had to. They're hanging on my words. The answer starts small, a tiny whisper, but it becomes a shout by the time I can make out the words.

"We are ponies! We are warriors! We are Equestria!" Every sentence, every word, every syllable, fills them with strength. The echo of our voices as one fills this valley, and I hope the crystal ponies can hear us.

"Tell me, Equestria, what does the earth pony hold in their hooves?"

"Stones and earthquakes!" The earth ponies stamp their hooves, and I feel the ground shiver. I wonder if it is afraid of us.

"And tell me, Equestria, what does the unicorn hold in their horn?"

"Fire and death!" Magic flickers between our ranks, and the crackle of the spells makes my feathers stand on end. Two down, one to go.

"Well then, Equestria, tell me! What does the pegasus hold in their wings?" I flap my wings for emphasis. I rise barely an inch off the ground, but there is a cheer anyways. I look around for a moment, and see that every Wonderbolt is following my example. Spitfire is giving me such a glare, though.

"Thunder and lightning!" If the first shout was loud, this shout is deafening. I see something new in the eyes of our soldiers now, something that the crystal ponies will learn to fear before this day is done. It is not fear, but at the same time it is not courage. Truth be told, I don't think there's a word for the look on the soldiers' faces. 'Madness' doesn't even come close.

Then I see that Celestia is moving. Her guards square their shoulders and march forward with her. Her wings are spread, and she raises a hoof. I turn to look at my Wonderbolts, and the time for chanting is over. I meet their eyes, and they know as well as I do.

I turn just in time to see Celestia give the signal. No more speeches. Now, we ride.

I barely have to think before I am up in the air. The formation is second nature as we accelerate, Spitfire and Soarin falling in beside me. We see the advancing horde, and somewhere behind those helmets, they see us too. There are no words, no orders as the three of us dip into a dive. We haven't needed words for a long time.

The crystal horde's march becomes a charge, their straight and narrow ranks falling apart as their mission changes. I see the green glow in the slits of their eyes, and remember when the princess told us about them. They aren't seeing the armies of Equestria advancing on them. They're seeing something far worse, an evil that fills them with so much fear and hatred that the only thing they can think of is to kill it.

Sometimes, I wonder if what they see is themselves.

Then we are in the fray, and there is no time for philosophy. I see those blank helmets, those pointless spikes, those big black plumes, and I unleash the rage. The first pony I see gets both hooves square in the side of the jaw, and a small, horrible part of me laughs when I hear something crack under that helmet. They are sent sprawling across the snow, limp and hopefully lifeless, and I am already across the plain. I spread my wings, spin, and buck. There is a brief curse of pain, then another has fallen. I accelerate back up into the air, and come crashing down like the wrath of the sun upon the back of yet another mindless slave. The sound of their shattering spine is a terrifying music ringing in my ears.

I only dare to pause for a moment to survey the battlefield. It is hardly different than the thousand other plains and valleys and crevices where we have fought this war, and once again we seem to be matched. For every slave that falls, a soldier falls. We Wonderbolts give an edge, sure, but from down here, neither side seems to be winning.

I'm almost thankful at the sudden weight on my shoulders. Nothing like a good melee to take the edge off of a melancholy. Well, I say good; all it takes is a twist of my neck and a buck of my head to send the attacker flying. He manages to take my helmet off with him, but that won't do him any favors.

The moment my mane is free, even I can see the tides turn. The tail is easy to miss, sure, and in the heat of battle not everypony can see the wing, but you can't miss this rainbow on top of my head. I snarl for effect, and oh, the look in the soldiers' eyes.

There is one stallion, pinned down by three slaves. I meet his gaze, and he gets that look as he throws them off without the slightest effort. It's not hope. It's not faith. The closest word is certainty. He doesn't think I'm unstoppable, he knows it, and none of the gashes and scratches on my body can tell him different. I'm not Rainbow Dash to that stallion. I haven't been Rainbow Dash to anypony for a very long time. To him, I am the Iron Wing.

As I dart over to the next slave whose face needs a few more bruises, the wing feels heavier. It's more than a replacement limb. These days, it's a symbol, a flag for ponies who can't believe in politics, only in other ponies. I'm some kind of war hero, a walking, talking legend. Not a pegasus, but a phoenix. The scar that should have claimed my eye gave me the magic power to see weakness, the ear that got torn can hear pins drop amidst a salvo of cannon fire, and my fake wing is so fast I can barely keep up.

Sometimes, I feel more like a fairy tale than a soldier. Still, can't deny it gets results.

As I push the latest slave away, I notice a growing shadow. It's split off from that of the cliff, and I look up. Time slows to a crawl as I see it. It's a massive boulder, headed straight for me, fast as the charging horde.

My hoof raises on instinct, and part of my brain shouts at me to get out of the way. I could be across the battlefield before that boulder can fall another inch. But rational thought isn't entering into it. Fear seizes every muscle, and I find myself looking down. If I can't see it, the youngest part of my brain says, it can't hurt me.

I wait for the crushing feeling. I wait to see if I'm as strong as the stories say, if I've somehow become the Iron Wing that they whisper about in the dead of night when they think I'm asleep. But it doesn't come. Something falls in the snow in front of me, and something falls to both sides of me, but the massive boulder is nowhere to be seen.

I lower my hoof and look up at the cliff. I see the two slaves who must have pushed it over, and am about to launch at them when I see something in my peripherals. The boulder lies shattered in a million pieces around me, and the ponies responsible are flanking me.

Maud and Pinkamena Pie. If I had to choose one word to describe these mares, it would be 'smash'. All of the paperwork says 'demolition experts', but they spend so much time in the infantry that you'd never guess their real mission. Everything the soldiers say about me is true of them. Stronger than diamonds, faster than the blink of an eye, and more fiercely patriotic than the Equestrian flag itself. That, and at least one of them has a massive crush on me. Can never tell which one, though. They're pretty much mirrors to each other.

But as always, there's no time for sappy talk or awkward questions. They fire off simultaneous salutes, and I'm just about able to keep a beaming smile of gratitude off my face as I nod to them. I don't know if Sombra can see through the eyes of his slaves, but if he can, I don't want to betray any weakness. Give a feather, they take a wing.

Learned that one the hard way.

Author's Note

Just a quick character study / POV of literally the most metal Rainbow Dash has ever been. Sorry if it's a little clumsy and inelegant, I'm kind of running on empty.

Expect at least two more chapters of this, this time from Maud and Pinkamena's perspectives.

Maud - I Am the Siege Weapon

Whatever else you want to say about the crystal ponies, you have to admit their armor is pretty good. The steel is strong, the joints are well-articulated, and the helmets look pretty roomy. I've seen magic bounce off this stuff like pebbles off a wall, so we know that Sombra at least cares enough to magic-proof his grunts.

Of course, magic-proofing won't protect them from me.

Right now, I'm not fighting. My orders are to bring up the rear and probe for weak points, and that's what I'm doing. I let the other soldiers throw themselves at the crystal slaves. I look past the horde at the cloud of smoke. I know Sombra's hiding back there, biding his time until somepony breaches his defenses. From this distance, I could probably take him down with one shot. But that's not my mission.

There's a crunch of snow beside me. I look out the corner of my eye and see her. It's Pinkamena. She's scowling again, glaring at the enemy. She hasn't acted yet, though. She's sticking to orders, same as me. Her glare tightens at something, and I face front.

I see him. He's charging at us, his head lowered and eyes glowing green. I wonder what he's seeing. He's moving a little faster than I would like.

I reach back into my right saddlebag. I take a rock in my hoof, and throw it. It hits him right between the eyes, punching through the metal and burying itself in his head. He keeps charging for a few seconds, but he gets very slow very quickly. He stumbles up to us, and Pinkamena punches him square in the jaw. The helmet warps and bends beneath her hoof, and he falls to the ground like a crumbling pillar. I watch Pinkamena spit on the corpse, then she takes off.

I try to hang back a bit more. We aren't supposed to get involved unless we have to. Our mission is to scan for weakness and strike where the iron is hot, not rush blindly into the melee. But subtlety and my little sister aren't very good friends, and they haven't been on speaking terms for quite a while. I see her now, trying to hold back, less for the slaves' sake and more for me.

As if I care about appearances. All I want to do is keep them safe.

She doesn't see this one, coming at her from the side. I take a rock in my hoof, and throw it. The throat shatters, and the slave stumbles into a wild kick from Pinkamena. Now I charge; she's wound up now, and the mission has changed. Strategy be damned, nopony messes with my sister.

As my hoof sinks an inch into the snow and meets the earth, I see. I blink, and still I see the enemy in all of their sparkle and shine. This is my talent, the reason why I wear the brown cover-all while everypony else is decked out in gold-painted steel alloys. My cutie mark is a rock. I know everything about rocks. I know how to hold rocks, how to touch rocks, how to break rocks.

The crystal ponies are exactly what the name implies. They are living crystal, and even though Sombra's slaves have lost their luster, they're still the walking, talking jewels from my bedtime stories. Their facets, their cleavage points, everything that makes cut gems brittle, they have in abundance. And just as almost every earth pony can feel their deep connection with the soil, I can feel the crystal ponies.

I see one of them, headed straight for Pinkamena. He's hidden from normal eyes by all the other small fights, but I can feel the direction he's going, see the way that he's looking, sense almost everything except for his exact thoughts. I take a rock in my hoof, and throw it. I know where the rock has to go, and I know where the target will be. My missile shoots between the hooves of two ponies a mere second before they clash, and knocks the slave off balance. I take another rock in my hoof, and afford myself a second to see if he will get back up. I catch a glimpse with my eyes of a unicorn's magic closing around him, and I turn my attention elsewhere.

A hoof comes out of nowhere, headed right for my face. A small part of my mind curses Pinkamena for distracting me, but I don't listen to it. I can look after myself. I'm not sure if she's even aware that she can be hurt.

The hoof connects, but I do not yield. It is a desperate punch, the strike of a pony who knows they cannot win, but refuses to surrender. In that first instant, I feel the weakness in it, but more than that, I feel the opening. The tiny fissures and facets that make up a cut gemstone are all on display, and they have just made contact with my skin.

Break.

The thought is all I need. The wish becomes a command, and the hoof shatters against my jaw. The splintering shards fly past me, and the crystal pony falls to her knees, clutching the shattered remains of her leg. It is muffled by the helmet, but I hear a scream of pain. I feel a pang of sympathy. I will be merciful.

I smash her neck with my elbow. The green glow is gone from her eyes, and I am looking toward the next enemy.

A unicorn is overwhelmed. I take a rock in my hoof, and throw it. The unicorn is struggling back to their feet, shoving the corpse away.

I see three crystal ponies converging on two earth ponies. I take a rock in my hoof, and throw it. The odds are even.

Pinkamena is pushing forward. I follow, picking up the pace and letting the rocks rest in my saddlebags. Now, I use my hooves.

Two dueling ponies collide with me. I break the neck of the crystal one, and shove my ally away as gently as possible.

I suddenly stare into empty green eyes, and my hooves are not fast enough. Rather than waste time waiting for my punches to connect, I close my eyes and push my head through the helmet. I feel the brain scrape at my skin. I feel a small tear open on my cheek, but I pull back and ignore it.

A crystal pony lunges at me, their hooves raise to tackle. I look and see a weakness, and swipe with my foreleg. The head flies off. The shards that sparkle in the air between stump and head are pretty. I see a pony charging at me, and my other hoof lashes out. The head becomes another rock, smashing into my enemy.

I reach out for Pinkamena. There is a path torn through the battlefield, littered with the extremely recently dead. She would seem to be alright. I take a guess at where she is, and look to see her all but walk through a pony. There is something behind me. I put my hind leg through their chest.

But then I feel something different. It is huge. It is moving. It is not crystal.

I feel, I look, I see. A boulder crests the top of a cliff. I know there are two ponies pushing it. It will go over the edge. It will fall. They mean to do this. They mean to kill somepony.

I look down. My heart drops like the boulder is sure to. There is a pegasus in the shadow of a cliff, but not just a pegasus. It is the Iron Wing.

"No."

She cannot die. I cannot let that happen. I bring my hoof down on the earth, sending a vibration that only Pinkamena can recognize: she is in trouble. There is no room for confusion; there's only one pony the message ever refers to.

My hooves meet the earth, and rather than crack it, I ride it. Each step has the kick of an earthquake behind it. I cease to walk and begin to run. Then I cease to run, and seem to fly.

My sister has seen, felt, and knows what to do. As I move, she moves. I fly, and she echoes it. We meet the boulder together.

My left hoof strikes the boulder. A thousand tiny shards fly away from the point of impact. Then my right hoof strikes the boulder. Another thousand shards take flight. I strike with my left. I strike with my right. Time ceases to be a factor.

For the first time this battle, I feel my leg braces. I feel them creak, I feel them strain. With each pull back, with each strike, I feel them shudder. I wonder if they will break. I wonder when they will break. I wonder what will happen without them. I wonder how much of my strength is my own, and how much of it lies in these braces.

Then there is not a boulder. There is a moment before I feel time pass, where I float. I cannot feel the earth, the crystals, even my sister seems a million miles away. I am blind and deaf, and there is a strange peace in it. I wonder if this is what the Iron Wing feels when she flies.

My hooves return to the earth, and my world comes rushing back. I feel the Iron Wing's hooves dig into the earth, and the slightest whisper of her metal lies on the edge of my senses. I blink, and see the wing. I see the delicate feathers, I see a hint of the tightly wound springs, I see the hard frame. So much of me wants to feel it, the way I feel the earth or the enemy, but I must remain steadfast.

She turns to look at me. I salute, and I see Pinkamena mirror the gesture. I see something warm in the Iron Wing's eyes, something that reminds me of a summer solstice that seems like a lifetime ago. Then I feel the enemy, and the beginnings of a pincer formation around the cliff. In a moment, it will be the end of them. I turn my back on the Iron Wing, and return to my duty.

I feel them. I charge at them. They are gemstones, living jewels, organic quartz. But I am corundum.

Author's Note

No matter what universe she's in, Maud Pie rocks. She's also laconic in all but one reality.

Up next, Pinkamena Diane Pie.

Pinkamena - I Am the Destroyer

Hate.

It feels so good to hate.

The battlefield is unimportant. The battle is secondary. All I see is the enemy.

I see the midnight black of their armor. I see the sickly green of their eyes. I see their dull, passionless bodies. I see them fight.

Why do these idiots fight? Their lives have been forfeit from the moment that Sombra came back. When Celestia declared war, their fate was sealed. And yet they fight.

Are they cowards? Are they so weak-minded that they cannot see the obvious? Sombra is only one pony. Ponies who stand alone are like rocks in a river; they are worn down to nothing by the overwhelming odds stacked against them. Even a unicorn cannot stop a flood alone. His own subjects could have toppled his empire in a day. But instead, they have bowed to the will of the heretic.

Yesterday, I heard somepony blaspheming. They were going on about how the crystal ponies are blameless, how they're all under some sort of evil mind control spell. They were saying that's how he took over in the first place. They said we should be trying to save the crystal ponies, that we should focus all of our efforts on Sombra. They said Celestia is cruel and heartless.

I still don't know why Maud stopped me from killing him. He believes in lies, and will probably betray us today. His delusions will get us all killed, because he is too cowardly to destroy our enemies. Or they would, if we were all so weak.

But I am not weak. I am an earth pony. I am a servant of Celestia, an agent of divine punishment in Equestria. I am called upon to shatter the bones of infidels, and bring an end to all who would defy the will of the princess.

Maud tells me that I am meant to use my talent to probe for weakness in their defenses, to see the places where their formations are flawed. But I see so much that I am blind. The crystal ponies embody weakness, just as Nightmare Moon embodied treason. There is no room for intellect or strategy in this war. There is no need for war. All that is needed is for all to see as I see, to understand that what we need is not war, but slaughter.

The enemy approaches. How dare they? I see his gender, and my bile doubles. How many times have I heard the males protest that they are the strongest? How many legs have I been forced to break to show them the error of their ways? How many times did my father....

No. No, mustn't think of that. This is not the time to cry.

His helmet folds and opens up, and a rock seems to appear out of nowhere, sticking out of his head. I check my hoof; no, I haven't thrown without thinking again. I look out the corner of my eye, and I see Maud lower her hoof back to the ground. Ah. That explains it.

I turn back to look and gloat, but the heretic has refused to fall. Still he charges for us. How dare he? Is his cowardice so great that he refuses even the ruling of the Pale Horse? Will he run from every creature that seeks to champion him?

He is so close now. I could reach out and touch him if I wanted. Instead, I wait another moment and show him what Equestria is to its enemies.

I feel the metal fold before its rightful master, accepting the touch of a real pony for the first and final time in its existence. I can hear the delicious crunch of justice within the confines of his stupid helmet. The colorful glow is gone from his treacherous eyes, and at last he falls. I spit with disdain upon his bloodless corpse.

I turn and look across the battlefield. I see the enemy. I see the ineffective strikes of my fellows, and I take pity. They are not to blame for this weakness, after all; in truth, there is nothing of weakness in those who fight for Equestria. I only see them as weak because I am so strong. I should not hoard this talent. I must lift the burden from this country's shoulders.

I barely even realize that I am moving. I see the crystal ponies advancing, a small posse that exists only to grant them the illusion of safety. I will not let them hide beneath the shelter of these lies. I will free their minds. From their heads.

Ha. Good joke, Diane.

Shut up, Gummy. You don't live here.

Wait, what was I doing?

You're doing your Templar thing.

Oh, right.

I cut myself on the internal walls of a crystal pony's stomach. I don't give them the satisfaction of hearing me cry out in pain. Pain is for the weak, and I am strong. I pull out, then turn and bury myself in another. They are kind enough to scream in agony on my behalf.

I wonder about Maud. I don't think she likes it when I do this. To her, there's a difference between defending the country and being no better than Sombra. I've always thought that it takes monsters to kill monsters, but Maud is a lot smarter than me, so she's probably right. She's also a lot more efficient, maybe because she just wants to get it over with. I've been trying to be more efficient lately.

Diane, there's a pony behind you!

Shut up, Gummy!

I kick, and that dumb alligator bursts out laughing when I actually hit something. Why won't he stop laughing? It's such an annoying noise, so distracting.

See. Hate. Kill. Three simple steps, and yet he's constantly interrupting with these dumb jokes. I have to ignore him. Focus on the steps. Focus on the enemy.

I see them. I hate them. And oh, how I kill them.

I see one pony charging at me from afar. How many of her friends have I already killed? What does she honestly think she can do to me? I'm not about to waste time waiting for her to get in range of my hooves. I put a rock through her throat, and get the angle just right. It'll be a good three seconds before her lungs implode. I only wish I was close enough to hear the ragged gasping for breath.

Off to my right is another heretic, one that I managed to ignore just long enough for this delicious moment to happen. He goes to punch me, and I turn to face it head on. I never get tired of when these crystal ponies think they can hurt me.

Just die already, you miserable coward.

His hoof explodes, and I feel nothing. His punch keeps travelling, though, and as more and more of his leg meets my face, so the explosion spreads. It actually makes me smile when my nose meets the inside of his shoulder. All too soon, he's run out of momentum, and he falls down on the ground.

"Please..." I almost don't hear him through that dumb helmet. When I realize what he's said, my smile is gone.

"Hold your tongue. The dead don't speak." Before he can fire back with some dumb quip about how he isn't dead, I grind his neck down to nothing under my hoof. Nopony sasses a Pie. Not even Auntie Sarsaparilla Pie.

I look up from my thoughts and see a crystal pony about to throw off an earth pony. I smash their hopes and dreams at twenty paces. Then I see another, running full tilt towards a five-unicorn firing squad. I save her the embarrassment of such monumentally bad strategy.

The bulk of the battle is so close now, there is no point in keeping out of it. I dive into the fray, rise to my hind legs, twirl, and break a neck. As I fall back onto all fours, I sink my skull into the skull of the enemy. The crunching sound does not come from me.

The corpse of my enemy is taking too long to fall limp. I jump over it and roll as I hit the ground, swiping upward with my hind leg as it meets head height. For a moment, I balance a coward's head on my leg, then right myself so quickly that it becomes a missile. It just barely misses one of the crystal ponies, who turns and stares at me with those vomit-green eyes.

He probably thinks he's scary. I don't even break my stride. The inside of his brain tickles as I pass through it, and I catch a piece between my teeth. I bite down. I taste lemon.

Another rock flies from my saddlebag to nestle in a bosom. Another hoof swings round to try and end me, but only ushers the Pale Horse closer for itself. Another body is in my way. Then the ground ripples beneath me.

For the briefest of moments, I think it's a tiny bit of backup from Maud. Then I feel something, a message in the earth that is different from the sermon of weakness that the crystal ponies are preaching in my hooves.

She is in trouble.

No. No, please, no. Cannot be, must not be. I turn, I look, I see. There is the Iron Wing. There is a cliff just beyond her. And at the top, a boulder.

"How dare you?" How dare they? Do they think they are gods, to so easily take away the mightiest of Celestia's soldiers? Do they think earth has dominion over sky, to challenge a Wonderbolt so brazenly? Do they think that the Iron Wing, of all ponies, has only one set of eyes?

I am away upon a chariot of stone. The snow is nothing, the earth rises to meet me. I accelerate each step, faster and faster, closer and closer. My hatred boils, bursts into flame, propels me onward. The boulder falls, and I fly.

Maud will never forgive me if I screw this up.

I pour my hatred into the stone. I command it to kneel before true power, to abandon its heretical mission and swear fealty to the Unconquered Sun. I feed it my hatred and rage, a thousand times in a single moment and then again. Still it falls, but still I strike. Still, I hate.

Finally, there is naught but gravel 'twixt mine hooves, and at last I return to the earth. As I land, I feel the creak of my leg braces as they adjust to the sudden stop. I forget why the blacksmiths told me to wear these things.

The Iron Wing looks at me. For a moment, my hatred abandons me, and I am filled with something else. Pride. Pride in a job well done, pride in my country, pride in my teammates.

I salute. I always salute. There's never time to tell her. Never time to ask her. Never a time to cry, never a time to laugh. There's time enough for her to look at us, time enough to hope that she has more she wishes she could say. Then I see Maud turn to leave, and I mirror the movement.

I reach out for something, anything. I see crystal ponies massing to charge round the cliff. I will take them over heartache any day.

As I charge, I leave it behind. Leave behind home, leave behind family, leave behind the Iron Wing. All that I am, all that I can be, all that I must be, is hatred.

Author's Note

It was depressingly easy to be able to channel so much hatred into this chapter.

And with that, I stamp a tentative 'Complete' on this story! I have accomplished all that I set out to do when I first got the idea, and I hope everyone gets what they want to out of this lovely little jaunt through the Crystal War.

Sequel Out Now!

Source

For everyone who's been itching for more of Iron Wing and the Demolition Crew, do not despair. It has not been abandoned, nor forgotten. Yes, some of the more astute of you may have noticed that it's been more than a week since I put up a blog promising more of this story within the week, but it's the Christmas season, okay? Cut me some slack!

But seriously, the new chapters have gone through several extensive rewrites. I decided to try and explore the events that made this trio of heroines into the legendary soldiers you all seem to love, but that decision instigated a billion tiny changes. In the end, those changes added up to something that, while hopefully great on its own, is just different enough from the original story that I feel it should be its own.

That's why, as of this moment, I am announcing the sequel to Iron Wing and the Demolition Crew, Rainbow Dash and the Pie Sisters! Now, unlike Iron Wing, you guys won't be able to pressure me into making more of this. Four chapters. That's all I have planned, that's all you're going to get. I don't care if I look back on my life and discover that this was my biggest success, supplies are limited!

...

I'm sorry, that probably came across super-mean.

What are you still doing here? Head over to the sequel! I'm eager to see how spectacularly it fails to live up to your expectations!

...

Are they gone? Okay, they're gone.

*chugs aspirin*