The computer screen glows a fluorescent white as I tirelessly absorb the latest pony news. My eyes are practically eating the words on the screen, lapping up sentence after sentence like some dog licking from his water bowl. So many things happening... The latest updates from Bronycon, new fanfics being posted... I already have what feels like a million stories saved on my hard drive, a backlog that’ll take years to sort through.
I rub my eyes. Perhaps I’m not as tireless as I thought.
I glance at the clock mounted on my wall; one thirty A.M.
My parents are fast asleep. If they weren’t asleep, they’d probably be up and telling me, “Tom, get some rest. You have classes in the morning.” And they’re right, I should probably get to bed soon, but-
My stomach let’s out a loud growl.
“You say something, little buddy?” I jokingly ask it. I think about it, and realize I didn’t eat dinner. It growls again at this thought, as though it’s saying “FEED ME.” I can’t help but chuckle a bit at the imagined voice, and reply, “Well, a midnight snack won’t do any harm.”
But what to eat? My stomach is cruel, and doesn’t give me a even a moment to think. “FEED ME. FEEEED ME,” it keeps shouting.
“Fine! Uh...”
Cake.
I don’t know why I thought that, but just... Cake.
“But we don’t have any...”
“CAKE!” the stomach growls.
I groan. “Cake it is...”
I look back at my computer screen, thinking of ways to find a recipe. It’s too late to go out to the store to buy cake, so I suppose my only remaining option is to, well make it.
At one thirty A.M. in the morning.
Sure, why not?
“I know! I’ll use the most indispensable fountain of knowledge in the world... 4chan!”
With a quick click of the favorite button, I easily navigate to /b/- home of Plato, love and immense reflection. With a tap of Ctrl+F, and an easy search of “cake”, I find a thread about the calorie-wrought treat. I guess even 4chan users get hungry sometimes.
“Hey,” I type, “I’m hankering for some quick cake. Any suggestions?”
Almost immediately, and inevitably, about five posts with ‘this thread is now pone” pop up in response. I let out a sigh. As much as I enjoy cartoon equines, it can be a little annoying when people just type senseless gibberish.
“Okay,” I decide to humor them, “You have any super-fast cake recipes?” Then, as a joke, I add, “Oh, and if the cake can open a portal to Equestria, that’d also be pretty sweet.”
This time there’s a pause. No response.
Did I really think this was going to work? I mean, it’s 4chan. If there’s anything on there that involves cake, it’s when the cake in question is a lie. I should just go to bed. No one’s going to-
A message appears after I reload the page again. To my surprise, it’s a recipe. For cake.
I read it over.
I may not be a chef, by this recipe looks... questionable.
“Is that even... edible?” I type.
“You asked for something that gets you to Equestria, not something to eat.” The response reads.
I shrug. The cooking time is only fifteen minutes. I don’t recall any cake that can cook that quickly, but, hey, if something goes wrong, I know where the fire extinguisher is.
“Let’s see...” A pen and a piece of paper is all I need. The printer is way too loud for this time of night. I quickly scrawl down the instructions, using a very tasteful style of chicken-scratch. Sure, it may not be too legible, but it works.
I head out into the kitchen, careful not to make any loud noises. I’m not sure my parents would follow my line of thinking if I said that I’m making cake in the middle of the night. Actually, come to think of it, I don’t think I know the line of reasoning either...
“FEED ME!”
“Alright, alright, I’m working on it...” I start scrounging through cabinets, grabbing the appropriate ingredients as I go a long. “Some cinnamon... Flour... Eggs... Why are eggs in the cabinet? … Oregano... Lysol...” The recipe says the last part is for flavoring, but somehow I think the guy’s just messing with me. “Stir all together in a bowl for five minutes, then cook on 500 degrees fahrenheit for ten minutes.” This seems a little too easy. Perhaps I should-
“FEED ME!”
Alright, alright!
I begin to preheat the oven, then dump the ingredients haphazardly into the bowl. I have to scoop out some of the shell, but otherwise things seem to be going off without a hitch. Granted, it smells kind of funky, a little bit like Lysol...
The oven dings, indicating its hit five-hundred degrees. I grab some of my dad’s lobster claw oven-mitts and slide the bowl in. The recipe said you can just use the mixing bowl, which I’m not sure is normal. What I know isn’t normal is the bubbling, as well as the blue glow coming from the bowl.
I’m not sure what to do. I look at the recipe again, which reads; “The concoction should remain in the oven for about ten minutes. Don’t take it out of the oven, however, but wait till it’s done. You’ll know when.” Know when? What’s that supposed to mean?
I take a seat, and watch as the bowl starts to rattle, some of the mixture actually splashing out of the bowl. At the ten minute mark, I can’t wait any longer and move towards the oven. I knew this was a bad idea. I just hope I didn’t ruin the ove-
Suddenly, the oven’s door flies open, and a burst of flames rushes out of the open door.
So... this is what it means by done? Maybe it should have said; “When done, the cake will RANDOMLY BURST INTO FLAMES.”
I’m about to rush for the fire extinguisher when I notice something odd; the flames aren’t spreading. They actually seem to be relatively calm, despite, you know, practically incinerating the entire kitchen. On closer inspection, the flames are a light blue, and there’s no heat emanating from them. Actually, the air seems cooler around the fire.
Maybe that’s the Lysol kicking in?
I approach cautiously, ready to bolt at any second. But... What’s that? I squint my eyes, trying to see a little image in the fire. The image is small, and I have to struggle to look past the flicker of the flames.
What I see blows my mind.
There’s clear blue skies, rolling fields of green, and... Yes, ponies! Ponies with wings and horns, all different hues.
That anon on 4chan was right! This cake isn’t for eating, it’s for transporting! I can actually go to Equestria! Well... That’s how it appears, anyway. I could be crazy. Or insane. Maybe in-crazy? Perhaps I should think about this...
A shrill noise breaks the silence. The fire alarm is going off! It seems lack of heat doesn’t mean lack of smoke. Granted, since the smoke is cool instead of hot it should be falling instead of rising, but apparently no one told the smoke detector that. I hear my parents scrambling out of their beds. It’s now or never...
I leap into the flames.
The cold. What I feel first is the cold. Actually, why the hell is it so cold? It looks like summer...
Actually, it looks like a perfectly normal evening. The sky is bright, lots of tinted pink clouds streaking across the sunset sky. At least, I think it’s sunset. There’s also a few rows of hedges and such, but that isn’t so important. What is important is the incredibly vibrant colors that flood my vision. Such cartoony colors are nearly impossible in real life. That fact assures me that I am in Equestria. My dreams have come true. Just think, I can bake with Pinkie, read with Twilight, fly with Rainbow- er, maybe not-, care for animals with Fluttershy, buck apples with Applejack, and Rarity, I’d...
Oh, Rarity. If I was to pick only one fictional character to be with for the remainder of my existence, it would be you! Your marshmallow complexion... Those baby blue eyes... I could get easily get lost in them. If I was to do nothing else, it would be to spend time with thee!
My only remaining question is; what mighty creature have I become? Am I a pony? A griffin? Maybe a diamond dog? A dragon? Oh, it would kick so much ass if I’m a dragon...
Giddy with excitement, I leap forward-
Wait, why can’t I move? It seems like I’m held in place. I try to move my body... but then I realize I don’t have muscles. Or bones. Or skin. Or any other sensories. I can only see and hear (okay, so those are pretty major sensories). Most of my vision is blocked by those damn hedges, but I can spot the spires of Celestia’s castle towering in the distance.
I struggle a bit more, but to no avail. It seems I’m stuck, and, after a minute or so, I’ve finally realized what it is I’ve become. I’m...
A rock.
Great.
Don’t get me wrong, rocks aren’t that bad. I mean, looking on the bright side, rocks can... Rocks are able to... Rocks are particularly good at... Well... you can sometimes cook an egg on a rock...
… Crap.
I need some time to think.
I’m a rock. Perhaps I should just roll with what’s going on. Maybe call myself Rocky. Or Tom. Oh, wait...
I let out a sigh. At least, I try to. Not much luck sighing when you’re a rock. Actually, how am I even able to hear? Or see? Or anything?! How am I even thinking?! I’m a rock! A rock, damnit! My life’s going to be spent forever in this cold, unmoving body!
… I could really go for some cake right now.
On the brightside, at least I’m not some other sucky inanimate object. Like a can of Lysol. It would suck to be Lysol.
… Yep.
Time seems to slow down when you’re stuck in a body of stone. If I had a foot, I’d tap it impatiently. I wonder if Discord feels this way? Frozen in place, unable to move a muscle. I think it would be. Alas, I feel like a TV dinner, still stuck in the freezer! So much potential, wanting to escape from this frozen stasis, but no hero is going to come. No individual is going to remove me from freezer of eternity and place me in the microwave of salvation. And inside this freezer, I’m forced to dwell in utter silence, sharing the space with only my thoughts. I’m stuck pondering the sins of my past, which sit next to me, near the ice cubes of... um... added insult?
And here I sit. Many a time I’ve wished for the time to just sit and think. No interruptions. Well, I suppose nows an apt opportunity. I take the time to reflect upon my life and it’s been... okay. I’ve never done anything to impact the world, nor help anyone else. I remember I wanted to become President at one point. Who knows, maybe I still have a chance. After all, what about BaROCK Obama?
… I must be getting desperate as a boulder. I’m starting to make jokes, even when there’s no one to make them to. Who am I telling this story to, anyway? Have I begun to develop a thought process transcending my previous existence? Am I becoming aware of a higher power? Is that who I’m talking to?! Are my lack of senses slowly turning me into a GOD?!
… No, probably not.
Man, I could use some cake. But wait. I know from my vast experiences as a person that cake is a lie. Perhaps my life is also a lie. Maybe I’m not a rock, but a being trapped in one place? No, I am a rock. I can just... tell.
Do rocks get tired? Because I think I desperately need sleep if I’m evaluating life based on internet memes.
Let’s see, where was I? Ah yes. Reflecting on my previous existence.
All I’ve been is a friend (great thing about being a rock; you can be as random as you want and it doesn’t matter). Though I suppose that isn’t half bad. Many people don’t even have that. Like the water bottle you use on a hot summer’s day to cool yourself down, but you forget about it, and then the janitor just throws it in the trash, not even to be recycled. I wonder if the people I’ve known will have actually been impacted enough to miss me... and open that freezer door.
It’s the weirdest thing... All my senses have forsaken me. Well, okay, I can see. That’s kind of a big one. Yes, I can also hear. That’s also pretty huge. But all sense of smell and touch is just gone. I’ve had many a stuffy nose before, but this takes the... sigh... cake. And not being able to feel anything feels... Odd. Actually, it doesn’t feel like anything. Because I can’t feel things. But I can feel things? Emotionally, yeah.
Did I just hear laughing?
...
Of course, the absolute worst thing that I’ve lost is, without a doubt, my sense of taste.
Never again will the sweet, sweet taste of chocolate settle upon my tongue, blessing me like a drop of nature’s honey (not that crap honey from that weird container shaped like a bear). Never again will the newest confectionary delight grace my presence, passing through mine lips and sliding down my throat, before finally depositing its deliciousness into my tummy, where the digestive juices will break it down into separate chemicals and be absorbed through the stomach lining, and then further absorbed by the small and large intest-
… I think I’m hungry. Can rocks become hungry? Damn, there’s so many philosophical questions that need answering. I guess I have all the time in the world to address these questions, because I doubt any individual is going to come across me out here in the middle of the-
Suddenly, a white unicorn rounds the corner of one of the hedges, muttering, “I was expecting an audience with the Princess, not outdoor sports. Agh!” Not looking where she’s going, the white unicorn smashes right into me, though I can’t feel it, given the fact that I’m, you know, a rock. The pony backs away, rubbing her face in pain, before opening her eyes. Those eyes light up almost instantly. I don’t know why. How could anything as hideous as me attract the attention of... Wait... Is that RARITY?!
“Oh my...”
I suddenly feel this really weird feeling inside me. You ever try microwaving something that was never meant to be microwaved, then ate it? It’s kind of like that.
I feel a voice emanating from me. It’s not my own voice, but something far more... Sinister. And camp.
It laughs and says, “Welcome to your lucky day, Rarity. You've found the one thing in Equestria that could rival my face for sheer beauty.” An unnatural glow suddenly shines from me. Such a bright light... Perhaps I wasn’t brought to Equestria as a rock... Perhaps I’m really a beautiful diamond! “What do you think? You like?” I might as well be a gigantic magnet the way the unicorn’s eyes are drawn to me. I guess... this is romantic? And that voice, was that... Discord?
“Yes, I like very much...” Rarity’s voice is filled with awe as she moves closer, but she stops herself shaking her head as though to rid her head of some horrible thought. “No! No, I shan't succumb to such fabulousness!” She called me fabulous! Where’s my couch so that I may swoon!?
She attempts to walk away, struggling to take even a single step. “Must... get to the center... to meet... the others.” But apparently I’m just way too awesome of a gem. She suddenly turns and, with a shout of “MINE!”, begins to dig me out with a mad fervor. It’s disconcerting to see her beautiful white coat turn into a miserable grey.
Wait a second... am I... in an episode? No... it can’t be...
I’M TOM?! (Christ, that coincidence is incredibly corny...)
That’s... that’s impossible... this episode already happened! And... that means I’ll be cast away like garbage at the end! I’m no diamond... Just a stupid boulder...
“Well, Rarity. It took forever, but it was worth it,” she pants heavily. I hadn’t realized I was so deep in the dirt wall. It must have taken a lot of work to get me out. Perhaps... Perhaps Rarity will be the one to get me out of that freezer and into that microwave? Perhaps she’ll be the one to warm the cockles of my stone cold heart? Perhaps the T.V. show does not mean my fate is set in stone? Maybe this time it’ll be different? I sure hope so...
“Who knew three little gemstones would turn out to be this handsome hunk of a diamond? Now to get you home!” If I wasn’t a rock, my cheeks would be redder than Rudolph’s nose on Christmas Eve. Slowly, she hefts me onto her back, legs shaking as she tries to lift my weight.
The rocky alcove I had been nestled in suddenly collapses, and, to my surprise, three ponies stand behind it.
You’d think I wouldn’t be surprised by anything that happens, since I’ve seen the episode.
Well... shut up!
A purple unicorn, obviously Twilight, says, “Rarity! Are we glad to see...” But she stops mid-sentence, a confused look on her face. “Why are you carrying a humongous boulder?” I react in shock. How dare she call me a bolder! I’m a rock! A big, beautiful, ol’ rock! Perhaps I’m even more... Perhaps I’m really... A diamond! Maybe in this dimension of reality it turns out I really am a diamond! And no, I’m most certainly not kidding myself! … I hope.
Rarity looks bewildered at such a proposition. “What do you mean, ‘boulder’? This big beautiful bedazzling rock is a DIAMOND! And it's all mine! Keep your envious little eyes off it! I found it and it's mine fair and square!” I feel a small glow inside me. What a compliment! I wouldn’t get that if I was back in my old world. Or if I was a can of Lysol.
Twilight gives me and Rarity a look, but remains silent as I’m carried by Rarity.
And then the most astounding series of events occur; step by step, I’m carried through the events of episodes one and two of season two. I marvel at the soap laden loads, feel the pitter-patter of chocolate rain falling upon my rocky exterior, and all the while, that wonderful unicorn Rarity holds me close, prizing me even more than her friends!
“But Tom,” a little voice in the back of my head kept saying, “You know how it’s all going to end.”
Perhaps things will change... Perhaps me and Rarity will spend the rest of our lives together!
“Tom, it’s hardly likely that-”
Yep, nothing can possibly come between me and my dearest!
“... Are you even listening to me?”
I wonder if they make tuxes in boulder size...
“... Ugh. No one listens to Jiminy Cricket.”
It wasn’t long till Rarity had ditched her friends and it was just her and I, alone in her boutique. I remember a story I read once that was Rarity x Tom... who was it by again? Hmm... I guess it isn’t important. What is important is that I now have some alone time with-
Suddenly, there’s some banging at the door!
Shoot, that can’t be Twilight already?! I mean, granted, it did take Rarity an hour or so to lug me across town, but seriously?
“Rarity? Let me in! I have a present for you!”
Hah! My sweet Rarity is far too clever to fall for such-
“Ooh! A present! Come in~!”
FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-
I fall into a state of shock so deep that I can only see a fleeting images of Rarity being tied down, screaming and struggling, and then to be forced against her will to remember things long forgotten. She turns to me, gives me a look of disdain and betrayal, and, with nary a hint of remorse, pushes me out of the Carousel Boutique. I roll mercilessly away into a small ditch, and I can hear a line. A line that will forever be burned into my living consciousness.
“Let us never speak of this again.”
And so, there I lie.
Alone.
Betrayed.
Hungry.
Sad.
But mostly hungry. I still wish I had some of that damn cake. I mean, even if there was Lysol in it. You’d think the Lysol would have been a dead give away something was off, but... Hunger can do things to an (ir)rational, sleep-deprived mind.
… Great, now I’m using parentheses to modify my thoughts.
At least I can get some sleep now. All the sleep I want. I’ll just close my eyes with my...
Sigh...
My non-existent eyelids.
How am I even seeing anything, anyway? Is this just some cruel joke being played by the gods? I bet it’s Loki. Whenever something goes wrong, it’s always Loki’s fault. Or maybe Trollestia? If it’s Trollestia, then I’m not sure if I gusta.
“Although I’m a fan of both of their works, I’m afraid you’ll just have to settle with my brand of hijinks today.” I know that voice... I can recognize the sound of John De Lancie anywhere. Or should I say...
Discord.
“Discord’s my name, chaos is my game. But from the sound of it, you’re already familiar with me.”
Can he read my thoughts?
“Yes.”
Oh.
“Just to let you know, that one thought in the back of your head concerning you and Rarity is most distasteful. How would a rock even do that?”
Hey, it could-
“Also, that story you’re thinking of writing is not going to make the featured bar. Who would ever read an underdeveloped FlutterMac? That’s hardly original, and just plain stupid.”
It's only a rough draft, and- Wait, you read fanfiction?
I feel a heavy weight settle down on top of me. It seems Discord’s taken a fancy to me as a chair.
“You have to understand, I’ve spent many thousands of years trapped inside that blasted rock. I have time. A lot of time. Of course, it seems you know how I feel, do you not?”
That’s something I can’t deny.
“I have plenty of time for my mind to wander. Explore. You know, cross-dimensionally and all that. Your ‘internet’ is a fascinating place, you know.”
Wait, wouldn’t that mean you know you’re going to lose?
“I haven’t lost yet, have I?”
Err... sure.
“Come on, they’re just small, colorful ponies. I’ll just blast them with a bit of magic before little Twilight Sparkle can get her shield up. But enough about me, let’s talk about you...” A grey head moves into view. “Allow me to ask, have you been posting in any forums lately?”
Well, yes...
“And have you received any cake recipes lately?”
Now that you mention it... Yes.
“Let’s just say that it doesn’t take much power for a god to make posts using his brain.”
… Oh, why you son of a-
“Ah, ah, ah! Watch that language!” I see his finger wagging at me. “It’s not my fault you can’t figure out that cleaning supplies aren’t meant for cooking!“
So what now?
“Well, the recipe was mostly a little joke of mine. But now that it’s run its course, there’s no reason to just leave a big hunk of rock like you lying in a ditch.”
Wait, are you going to send me home? Or let me live in Equestria, with Rarity?!
“Believe me, Rock-boy, you wouldn’t want to live in Equestria with these ponies. No, I’m going to send you back home to your basement dwelling life. However, there is one condition.”
...and that is?
“Oh, nothing much... I just want add my special... “flair” of chaos to the mix.”
Fine, just send me home. I’d rather be with the ponies, but... home is better than being a rock.
“Heh. Heheheheh. Have fun!”
I feel a falling sensation, and then I black out.
Ugh... where am I? My god! I’m home! Home sweet home! In my wonderful... bathroom? And... why... why can’t I move?! Oh, there’s dad over there on the... Wait... WHY IS MY DAD PICKING ME UP?! WHY IS HE SPRAYING ME EVERYWHERE?! HOW IS HE SPRAYING ME EVERYWHERE?!
And then it hits me...
FUCK! I’M A CAN OF LYSOL! THAT TROOOOOOOOLL!
