Hi. I’m a background pony. My name? That’s not necessarily important. I’m here with a mission, though, so listen up.
Stop. Writing. Fanfictions.
Please?
That might sound absurd, or a nigh impossible for such a big… (what was it called?) oh… “T.V. show.” And you… humans, (at least, that’s what I think you’re called) have a big imagination. And I suppose we ponies do too. But our stories don’t affect other beings’ lives, specifically mine! By now, you’re probably thinking I’m crazy! But it’s true! And because you don’t know anything about me, I don’t change with your stories! I have to live with them, and I see every single one of them. How do you think that feels?! I just want a normal life, but I have to be some sort of secret agent instead! Don’t believe me? Well, let me show you a day in my life.
“Erggggah! What a nice day! The sun is shining… the birds are chirping… ponies are walking… and… *sigh* Pinkie Pie is running around with a giant butcher knife.”
I rub my eyes with my hooves to make sure, and I look out the window to see that I was in fact correct.
“It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”
Trotting out of my room to freshen up, I listened to the background noise of dying ponies screaming in fear and agony. Then I went to eat my breakfast. As I sat there and ate my jelly toast and drank my coffee to that wonderful symphony, I thought. I have no name. Because of this, no writers can use me as a character. I’m only scenery. I guess, thinking harder, that I am some sort of… evolution in nameless ponies. Most of the others with no name haven’t realized it yet, and they all believe they might be harmed too. They come back, from death, with no memory, yet I remember everything. I know the only way I could be harmed is if an author used the dreaded “all” or “some” of Ponyville. Sometimes it happens, but I usually come back from death to be useless scenery in another story. Then I live again. It’s tricky business, but if you’ve seen some of the stories I have, then it’s a walk in the park to figure out.
I only know of a few others who can see that we are in stories, one of them being Pinkie Pie. Her “4th wall” breaking abilities are known though, so she has lost all control of them. I feel bad for her.
Others who can see their real lives are Lyra and Carrot Top, so watch out writers. They know. But they, like most ponies, can’t see from life to life.
After my long and reflective meal, I went outside and smelt the fresh air. The crazy Pinkie (seriously, how could you think of something like that?!) story was still going, so I sat around for around ten minutes for it to go away.
When “authors” write for our world, it acts like a script. What they write, will happen to those who can’t control themselves. Those who can control themselves however, like me, go around and basically… try to make the script as bad as possible. When the script is open and we can see it, we go and… well not alter it, but force things to be different. This process however, can’t be seen, as the writer feels they’re writing it that way. It might be easier to see in action.
I checked my watch quickly, and saw that the story should be gone by now. I looked outside and of course, I was correct. Everything looked normal, so this story was at least a little bit canon.
Good enough for me, I thought. The group can meet together now.
Ah, the group. The group of… misfits and no namers. We go around and wreak havoc together because pretty much we alone are aware of our places in stories. I feel rather sorry for one of our members, though. Lyra. She has been picked up in more and more stories as of the late, so it has been harder and harder for her to be aware of her outside life. Carrot Top as well, but not nearly so much.
I picked up my specially made walkie-talkie to speak with the others. There are no bounds to what can be made when you’re in story limbo. Because the stories range so highly in technological ways, we can have… anything if we can find them in the stories that have them.
“One coming in. Over.” Yes, One is my codename.
“This is agent Two. I’m at the bridge. Over.”
“Agent Lyra here. I’m waiting as well. Over.”
“Carrot Top speaking. I’m coming as soon as I can One.”
“That’s fine Carrot Top. Over”
“Two speaking. I heard Three couldn’t make it today, and Four was hiding in his house for some reason. Perhaps he’s hiding from this story? I’m not sure. Over.”
“One speaking. That’s interesting… I’ll be there soon. Over.”
I put my walkie-talkie away in my trench coat pocket.
Soon enough I reach our meeting spot. A bridge on the exact edge of town. It separates Ponyville from the open fields of nowhere. It is an apt place to have meetings because nopony is ever there and because we could escape Ponyville easily if we had to.
“Is Carrot Top here yet?” I asked to the two ponies in front of me.
“Not yet One.” Two replies.
“We’ll have to wait in the meantime, I suppose.”
The bridge has a purpose through. Underneath flows a lazy brook that only sometimes is there in spring from the mountains’ snow and ice melting. Today it was flowing quite quickly.
“Something the matter One?” Lyra asked as she trotted up behind me.
“Yeah. It’s you. I’m not sure how much longer you can be in the group, with all the stories popping up.”
Lyra looked down, and acted strangely calm.
“Well, I suppose it’s fate. If I’m meant to be another puppet in the writers’ show, then I guess that’s how it’ll be. I don’t want it to be that way, but if it has to, it has to.”
“You’re being surprisingly mature about this Lyra.” I said, thinking about her normal personality. She didn’t usually act reflective and calm. She was energetic and fun, bouncing around and generally having a good time. I guess she was thinking about how we lost Trixie. She… got too caught up in stories and lost all her awareness. It was momentously sad, but we got past it. As a group.
“Anyway, let’s have fun making this story bad!” Lyra said as she perked up and bounced over to Two.
What a trooper…
“I’m here!”
All eyes turned to the newly arrived Carrot Top.
“So, what are we doing and how?”
Everyone looked at me for the game plan.
“Well, after using my inside sources…”
The Ponyville market square, usually, was abundant with activity. Today, though, was a special circumstance. Some sort of show was going on in the plaza of the town, so most of Ponyville’s activity was directed there. However, not all of it was.
“One, coming in. I’m lined up and ready.”
“Carrot Top coming in. I’m ready as well.
“Agent Lyra is in position.”
“Two here. I’m also ready.”
“Alright. Plan A is a go. Move, Two.”
A lonely pony walks across the square to a vendor who, for some reason, wasn’t at the show.
Almost at the same time, two other ponies walk across the market. They, unlike the first, have a name.
“Hey Fluttershy, why don’t we go get something to eat?” One of the two asked.
“Oh, sure John.” Fluttershy said, albeit hesitantly. The pony used to be a human after all, and she didn’t want him getting any ideas.
“Two, remember; calm, and don’t look back.”
“Hey, this conveniently empty vendor looks promising enough.” John said, walking towards the stand.
However, as he did so, Two pulled out a small knife. He nonchalantly turned around and faced John and Fluttershy, and walked passed them while making a small incision on John’s foreleg.
“Agh! What the?!”
Two didn’t look back.
“Oh, you poor thing! I’ll take you home right away and fix you up!”
Fluttershy and John walked back to Fluttershy’s cottage.
“Carrot Top, did you remove the medical gear from Fluttershy’s house?”
“Just did so One.”
“Good. Phase one of the plan is complete. Lyra, are you at the show?”
“…”
“Lyra? Come in, Lyra.”
“…”
“Lyra, answer me!”
“…”
“One, I think something might have happened to her.”
“I can tell. I’m going to the show.”
I ran out of my small hiding place towards the town plaza. When I got there, though, I was severely shocked.
Trixie was the show, with Lyra as musical accompaniment.
“Damnit, we lost Lyra!”
I looked around, and realized the plan as going to go wrong. Crowds and crowds of ponies stood in awe of the magic show, but I was far less pleased.
“Alright. I’m going to do something desperate.”
I started galloping full speed towards Fluttershy’s house.
“Are you okay now John?”
“For better or for worse. Hey, why don’t we go to that magic show everyon- everypony was talking about?”
“…okay.”
The pair walked out of the house, and towards the town plaza. I hid in a corner, a large knife in my grasp. Killing the main character is a desperate attempt, but it usually works in making the story worse. It’s below my normal morals, though, but this situation called for it.
Clop clop.
The clopping of the pair’s hooves was driving me nuts.
Clop clop.
Clop clop.
Clop clop.
Clop clop
I slowly walked up behind Fluttershy and put a muzzle on her.
“MHMMM!”
John looked over at me, and that was the last thing he was ever going to see. Granted, the writer doesn’t bring him back to life.
I walked away casually, blood in my tracks.
“Mission success. However, I had to resort to killing of the main character.”
“Better than nothing.”
“I suppose so Carrot Top. I suppose so.”
“What are we going to do about Lyra?”
Two asked as we all sat down in a restaurant.
“Nothing. She’s stuck in the story for now.”
“Ugh. That sucks. Why can’t authors just… stop writing?! They’re taking all of our friends…”
“I know Carrot. I know. I wish so too. Life would be so much better…”
See? You guys make our lives suck! Stop writing! It’s going to keep happening over and over, and there’s nothing we can do! We want normal lives like everypony else! But because we’ve never been seen before, we’re subject to awful things! At least mine is. I’m going to have to live with your sucky stories forever…
Unless somehow somepony finds out about me. That couldn’t happen, right? I have no name. But if I were in a story, then I guess it could happen…
Wait…
