Today a batshit crazy salespony started yelling that she had a "mangina" and was "Beyonce".
I don't even know what to do anymore. Fort Temmie Village is under seige, and the only haven is here inside the laboratory basement. Lots of Amalgamates. Way too many. There's even a Temmie/Rabbit one down here.
Terry left me hours ago because the salespony convinced him that I wanted to fuck him. I shot that salespony. I shot her good and she fell like a stone. Yay, carcass for dinner...
Ponyville is in shreds, the Princesses are in Tartarus, Canterlot has been painted yellow, The Crystal Empire (now Fort Temmie Village ) is under seige, Manhattan is a shipper base, Baltimare got nuked, and Appleoosa is in shreds.
Prance, and its capital Mareis, are also destroyed.
The Lab is underground in the Griffonstone/Dragon shared territory area. It's underground because, as I said, the surface is in shreds.
Tomorrow I shall venture onward into the wastelands and find Terry. He'll be fine, I'm sure. But if I have to rescue him from a shipper base, he's gonna get a good yelling at in the deepest part of the basement, where nopony can hear him whine.
My name is Toxic. I am a Pegasus from the small town of Appleoosa-one of the very few ponies living there. Since the Gayngsters rose to power, I've been siding with my trusty friend, Terrain, or as we call him, Terry.
Now the main problem here is that the Gayngsters ship Terry and I. Guh, even though I might have the smallest crush on him, that does not mean the Gayngsters have a right to do this... At least not all the bi/gay ponies around here have been taken over by those crazy bitches. I'm a bi myself, and yet I still don't give in to the little asshats.
Here's a bit of an explanation. I told Chea, the idiot that leads the lesbian society that currently rules the planet, about my smol crush.
The bitch went batshit insane over it and is now an alicorn... As if her having her damn telekinesis wasn't enough.
I'm on the wanted list, number one, putting Terry at number two. They want us alive. They want to force us into something.
Even though my mane, tail, coat, and right eye are badly battered, I've still evaded the cops so far. Two weeks into the war already and I'm this fucked up? Yeah, I'm screwed.
You probably notice I'm not talking most of the time. Yes, this is because this is a fucking log book. A FUCKING LOG BOOK.
It's lonely with only Terry to talk to. Sometimes, I question my sanity.
Well, hey, fuck the police I guess!