Once upon a time, there was a normal human walking to his home from his boring job. This human, it must be noted, can (and often does) even lift. Unfortunately, the power of his favorite wrestler was not with him on this fateful evening…
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“Jee, I sure hope I don’t get hit by a car!” exclaimed the human, who shall henceforth be known as Bob. As Bob’s shoes touched the pedestrian crossing that would take him to his home, a truck came careening down the street, heading directly for Bob! Oh dear!
Bob’s head whipped around, his eyes sent information to his brain, and he saw the truck. Unfortunately (or fortunately, if you are a member of the National Bob Haters Club), these sensory signals came too late to save poor young Bob.
His eyes widened in realization.
There was a terrible ghastly something.
Splat.
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Twilight Sparkle, archlibrarian of Equestria, had a problem. She fixed it by ordering Spike to get more coffee from her latest invention: the Coffee Percolator™.
She took a sip.
“Aaaahhhh, that’s better. Coffee always makes me feel like a mare again.” she said, as the coffee pleasurably replaced her blood (including in a certain special place). As she flipped another page of the book she was levitating (Romping with Rompo, by Goldenrod Clopheart), her magical aura shifted from purple and pink to the brown of coffee beans.
Spike, being vigilant as always, noticed this.
“Hey, Twilight, don’t you think you’re drinking too much coffee?” he asked.
“Hmm? What makes you say that?” she responded, with a generic expression and tone of irritation.
“Well, your magic is brown now.” he explained, pointing a chubby finger at her horn.
Twilight Sparkle’s face gained a look of curiousity.
“What do you mean? Magic doesn’t have colors.”
Before Spike had a chance to explain, the roof exploded, knocking over both of them.
Or, at least, it seemed to explode. There was dust in the air and a splintery hole in the treeish roof. Spike and Twilight both started coughing immediately, and as the crap cloud cleared (and their bronchitis stopped bothering them), they both gasped.
“Gasp!” said Spike.
“Gasp! Holy shit!” said Twilight.
Before them, right under the hole and on the cracked floor, lay what was obviously (and still is obviously) a hairless monkey. As Spike and Twilight gaped in awe and stuff, the monkey groaned and grasped the top of its head as its upper body departed from the ground. This is also known as sitting up after being knocked the fuck down.
