General Samby Papa KrellChaptersThe Cliche prologue Something indeedStranger in a strange landImpatience of a saintRed phantomShekelstein goes to marketThe Cliche prologue The Cliche prologue Discord laughed long and hard in the most maniacally cliche way he possibly could, really putting some effort into it. "Now it's time to have some fun with my dear pony friends," he says. "First I'll bring twilight here to see if she's busy with something important." Discord concludes, providing exposition to nobody in particular as he casts a teleportation spell with the snap of his scaly claw. An arduously slow minute passes, and nothing happens whatsoever. "That's odd, I'm sure that should've done it." The Puzzled Draconequis thinks aloud. "No matter, I'll just keep going until She appears like she's supposed to!" He decides, snapping his fingers rapidly. A short moment later, absolutely nothing happens for the second time. Discord folds his arms and frowns while floating upside down dressed as a clown wearing a crown. "Oh poo. This is quite the predicament," he taps his chin and a mirror appears in front of him. "Magic must be on the fritz again. I didn't even want to be an upside down frowning crown clown, I wanted to be an cold old bowl of moldy gold but my magic made me into an upside down frowning crown clown. I suppose I should lay off the chaos for just a bit while it calms down and returns everything to normal." The powerful being muses, thoroughly disappointed that his magic had basically done what it wanted rather than what it was actually supposed to do. Meanwhile in a reality completely contrary to the one equestria resides in, absolutely something happens. Something indeedSam sipped his ginger ale and munched on the last morsel of perfectly fried chicken remaining from his lunch. The chicken had actually been part of a chicken sandwich but fell out before he could take the first bite and landed in the sandwich's wrapper, but rather than return the little nugget of breaded goodness to its rightful home, he'd let it stay put until now. "Chick-Fil-a is Good shit, but I shouldn't be eating it all the time because my doctor says I need to start keeping my cholesterol in check before I have a lil' stroke." He explains into a moderately expensive microphone fastened firmly to his desk. "That and because they're like super homophobic or something. I dunno, I'd like to eat nothing but these dope ass sandwiches but it funds a bunch of dickheads that like to mess with people who don't really need to be messed with, and it might actually fuck me up later so I'll just be a horrible person every once in a while instead of all the time always like I usually do." Sam stops, finishing the thought as his character on the computer monitor in front of him fell to its death from the top floor of an underground dwarven ruin all the way to the rocky bottom of the cave. "Goddamnit, belrand fucking pushed me off the edge while I was talking and now I have to do all that spelunking over again. I fuckin hate these ruins, they're the big stinky buttholes of Skyrim and I don't fucking like em." He groans frustratedly into the microphone. "While we're waiting for this to load, lemme hit you with lil fact; did you guys know that argonians actually piss and shit outta the same damn hole, like pigeons? They're Fucking giant pigeons that's what they are, and I- Sam is cut off by the sound of his computer crashing with a loud screeching noise. "The fuck do you think your doing?" He asks the malfunctioning machine as the screech gets louder and louder. He scrambles to get up, but slips on an empty can of Canada Dry and panics as his monster gaming PC screams like a T-1000 getting buttfucked by a wrathful fax machine. "Oh man I'm not ready to die yet, please God this is some bullshit you've thrown my way and I'd appreciate it if you'd knock it off and cut me some slack for like, once ever my dude." Sam prays as sincerely he can, his prayers seemingly answered by sudden silence, then the sound of windows starting up normally. Surprised and thankful that he didn't actually get blown up, he stands up and warily sits back down in his chair and reaches out to the mouse and keyboard. "Well then, that was something indeed." He says matter of factly, a strong layer of displeasure and concern evident in the statement. With bated breath, Sam types his username and password (Username: GeneralSam123, Password: TassiveMesticles123) into their corresponding boxes and hits log in. "You scared me for a bit, I though I was about to eat shit in major way." He said to his computer as the screen changes and his desktop appeared on screen. "Guess I should get back to recording from today and be done with that for a hot minute so I can figure out what's what in the butt with you, you stupid garbage ass computer." He thought aloud to the computer that he'd built by hand the previous year. He scrolls the mouse cursor over the Skyrim icon and double-clicks. As soon as the screen loads he hits full screen and opens his recording overlay, looking at the files. He hadn't lost any footage and the game had auto saved right before it crashed, so he scrolls over to the little red button icon and clicks 'record'. "Theeeeere we go." Sam says, letting out a sigh of relief before clearing his throat to start talking fro the video again. "Hey guys it's General S— Literally as soon as the recording starts, the entire screen explodes in his face and knocks him out like an angry punch from Mike Tyson. Stranger in a strange land"U N C U T l P U S S Y." Sam awakes face down in the dirt like a paraplegic breakdancer, his ears ringing slightly. "Fuck was that about?" He asks no one, rolling onto his back and sitting up. "That piece of shit didn't kill me, did it?" Sam ponders as his armor and sheathed sword make sitting up from his current position a bit awkward. Then he realized he was wearing a full set of fucking armor, with a sword sheathed on his left side and a bow with quiver held in place on his back. "Ummmmmmmmmmmm what the fuck!?" Sam groans as he looks the weapons and armor over. "This is all my Skyguy stuff isn't it?" He says, drawing his bow and turning it over in his hands. "Scopey Dopey Doo, but do I got arrows?" Sam reaches to his back and he grabs at the first thing his hand comes into contact with; a scroll. "No arrows, what is this fucking amateur hour? Who gives a guy a swanky mcspanky bow but no arrows for the damn thing? All I got is this roll of musty ass paper labeled....." His eyes, though unaided by the prescription glasses he usually wears, have no trouble reading the label written on it in plain English. "Scroll of conjure arrows." ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ "Guess I should follow the scruffy dirt road and find a town so I can try and get the fuck home. Hey, kinda like a dumb version of the wizard of Oz. Awww, I hate that movie," Sam complains as he starts walking. "With the fuckin dog and that big gay lion. I swear if somebody starts singing or dancing I– A small orange horse with a hat trots past the biped without a thought, then realizing that what it saw doesn't make any sense, stops in its tracks and turns around slowly as Sam follows suite. When the two make eye contact, they double take. "What the hay?" "What the hell?" They both take a surprised step back and stare at the one another, an eyebrow raised at the absurdity of the situation. "Did that horse just fuckin talk?" "Did that thing just talk?" The orange horse rubs its chin with a hoof and stares at Sam who scratches his chin and stares right back. At last, the carrot colored quadruped breaks the silence consuming the moment. "My name's AppleJack, wh- "Like the cereal?" Sam interrupts immediately, followed by another question. "Or like that nasty shit homeless people and retards drink?" The horse laughs and points a hoof at the strange creature. "That's the one mister whatever you are." It answers, the feminine voice carrying in an unmistakable Texan accent. Eyes widening, Sam steps towards the bizarre talking animal. "You're from Texas?" "Texas?" His eyebrows hit maximum facial altitude as he continues questioning the citrus colored horse-yokel. "You know, bang mah sister cuz mah uncle-dad told me to..." Sam pauses, holding a finger in the air as he ponders something. "Wait, I'm sorry. I was thinking Utah, not Texas." He corrects himself. AppleJack bursts out laughing and smacks a hoof across the adjacent foreleg like a human redneck would slap their knee while howling at a particularly funny looking bit of roadkill. "You sure are funny mister— Now's my fucking chance! I have to tell it it my name is somethin fucking godlike, like Black Hitler or Doctor Jesus! C'mon, I gotta think of somethin good. Maybe something like.... "Sam." He interrupts her, his half smile of optimism leveling out into a flatline expression of regret, if only for a split second. "Well Sam, you from round' these parts?" AppleJack asks. Sam shrugs and laughs slightly. "I don't know, where is here exactly?" "We're right outsida PonyVille right now, and that's in Equestria." She explains, as if the information conveyed wasn't the biggest heap of bullshit nonsense ever uttered. Yawning, the armored man shrugs again. "Yeaaaaah, I'm fucking lost. There a hotel nearby?" AppleJack nods, but then jumps up with a wide grin. "Shoot, if you're lookin for a place to stay, why not just come stay at the farm? We got warm beds, clean water, and all sorts a' contrived apple products that nopony really buys!" She offers nicely. "Sounds pretty good to me," Sam agrees. "But when we get there, I'm going to need a stiff drink. And by a stiff drink, I mean about ten of them." Impatience of a saint"F A C K I N l S P A G H E T T I." Sam and Applejack walk along the surprisingly well maintained dirt road, but are stopped by the sight of a large brown bear. Sam draws his sword almost immediately and readies what he's pretty sure is a spell in his left hand, but without the assistance of his partner in crime Belrand, he questions his ability to beat the bear's ass. "So uh, you got any large-and-in-charge-horse magic you can bust out or are you useless for shit like this?" He asks, his eyes still locked on the bear. "I reckon I've got a good kickin hoof, but there ain't no magic here big guy." She offers. With an interruptive fury, the bear roars like a bipolar child and charges the two southern bells. "WEAAH!" Sam screams in manly terror as the large bear lunges forward and decks him in the noggin with a powerful swipe of its paw, rendering the world black and soundless as unconsciousness is thrust upon Sam instantly, like views on a thousand degree knife video. I just got knocked out by a bear. Fuck sake, where's Belrand when you need him? Dude's real good at goin ham egg and cheese on bears and shit while I watch and do fuck all. I mean, I wake up with all the skyguy stuff but I don't get Belrand? Fuck me that's some sort of tragic. _______________________S A M M Y I S U N C O N S C I O U S ______________ Suddenly, a very disoriented and understandably frustrated Sam jolts awake and upon sitting up, realizes two things of moderate importance; all of his shit was gone, and he was sitting in a bed built to fit a ~~midget~~ ~~dwarf~~ little person "Well this is some shit." He says with a sigh, taking in his surroundings. "Wait. How the fuck did I get here? I got Jimmie jammed by that bear and woke up here." Sam ponders aloud habitually, oblivious to the entrance of a small, lemon-colored horse with wings. After a moment or two, the horse makes it's presence heard, it's voice effeminate and soft. "I...I told that bear to work his anger out elsewhere and to leave nice ponies alone. You weren't awake and I thought that you'd...." The small equine explains in what could be considered a whisper. Even though it may have been but a whisper, Sammy's lil ears still heard it and sent him into highly aggressive southern panic mode. It was in this, a moment of pure surprise and fear, that he did something pretty baddass, if completely overreactive. "Fus Ro Da!" With a word, the diminutive yellow horse is thrown into the air with a quickness thoroughly unfamiliar to her, and barely catches herself with a flap of her butter colored wings. Sam sat in silence for what felt like forever staring with eyes wide and wild, until the lightly shaking yellow Pegasus finally meets his eyes and speaks again. "S...Sorry.......I....I......sorry...." She apologizes sincerely, earning a double take from the human that now stood before her. Holy shit I can shout like a big boy. Almost made glue from that pony though, so I guess I shouldn't go around shouting at everything like a deaf evangelical. Sam shrugs and relaxes a bit as he looks over the harmless pegasus. "You okay....." The mare blinks filling in the blank with a barely audible "Fluttershy." Huh, that's a dumb name. Who the fuck names their kid Fluttershy? Stepping forward, Sam bends down to her level. "Nice to meet you Fluttershy, my name's Sam. Sorry I caused a ruckus in your house," He says casually. "I didn't mean to scare ya like that. I get a bit loud when I'm surprised." As if a switch was flicked, the shy pegasus turns to look him in the eye and speaks without the fear present a moment earlier. "Well it's nice to meet you Sam. I'm glad you're not really mad or hurt. Applejack told me what she knows about you and you seem okay but a bit rude." "Yeah that about sums me up," he pauses, looking around at the well kept cabin. "Place is pretty clean and sturdy for a house made by hooves. I was worried I might've destroyed the entire place when I ripped the nasty just then but we ain't knee deep in rubble so that's pretty cool." "Thank you, I try my best to keep it all tidy, but sometimes I have a little help from my animal friends or discord if he's up for it." But Sam had basically stopped listening by the time she had finished the sentence, for a small white rabbit had hopped its way over and started tugging on his pantleg incessantly, gesturing to the front door as if suggesting Sam leave immediately. If this rat doesn't fucking stop I think I'm gonna bust a fuckin lip. "Hey is this your adorable bunny?" He asks, grabbing the animal by the scruff of its neck and holding it in front of him for Fluttershy to see. The mare nods and smiles a bit. "Oh yes, that's Angel Bunny. He's my most special animal friend." At that, the bunny squirms about in Sam's grip and bites down on his index finger, drawing blood with surprisingly sharp and pointy teeth. "I'm leaving." Fuck. Sucking on his finger lightly, Sam locates his personal items and equipment, slides into his backpack and armor, and stomps out the door without another word. Fluttershy watches the foreign creature gather its strange belongings and depart in silence, her sympathetic gaze turning hard and disapproving as a certain little rabbit hopped back into the room with a little look of guilt on its cunty little rabbit face. Outside, Sam frowns and bandages his finger with a bit of cloth found in his backpack. "Wonder if they got some food in town." Red phantom"D O l Y A l L I K E l M E M E S?" A circle of blood and smokey red light writhes into existence; a horribly trill and unnatural sound piercing the forest air and its exotic brand of silence. From within the pitch black center of that dark and soulless void, a figure cloaked in white and grey rises. With a solid marbled mask of amber and yellow, the figure stands, and the circle evaporates into the air as if it had never been present at all. “Alright, got my falchion and my...where’s my chime?” The man asks aloud, turning around in place. “Could’ve sworn I had my chime on me when I started to invade.” After a moment of walking around searching for his missing belonging, the masked man shrugs and draws his sword. “Oh well. I guess I forgot to bring it.” He concludes, turning towards a faint but familiar sound. The growling of a beast. The masked man backsteps on well honed reflex as the creature launches itself at him like a mountain of orange and red death, its powerful jaws snapping shut where his throat had been a second previous. "Host must've seeded me like a bitch." “Oh ho ho miyazaki, fucking manticores now? What next, medusa?” He shouts in a playfully inquisitive tone as the beast begins to circle him. With the speed of lightning the manticore pounces once more, but the man simply rolls underneath it and backsteps once more, slipping his left hand into the gaurd of his trusty buckler shield. “Thats right motherfucker, I’m too fast for your jumping attacks.” He taunts, moving towards the mythical predator until there is but a mere foot between them. “Swing baby, swing!” He yells in the beast’s face demandingly. The manticore’s deadliest weapon, its insanely powerful scorpion tail, flexes and strikes downwards at the challenge with its curved tip poised to kill. The masked man stands his ground, and just as the tip of the tail moves over the head of the beast, he swings the small metal shield gripped in his hand to the left and bats the stinger away with ease. “Get fucking parried idiot!” He laughs as the creature falls back, stunned by the maneuver. Still laughing, the masked man walks up to the prone manticore and plunges his sword straight into the monster’s abdomen, putting a well armored boot against the slain beast to aid in the withdrawal of it. “Ha, Oroboro for parry king 2017!” He declares, sheathing his weapon and turning towards a small ray of light stabbing through the dense forest. “I’ll bet that’s where the host will be hiding. Better get going if I’m gonna beat his ass too.” Shekelstein goes to market”M E l M E l W A N T l H O L E.” Stopping in the middle of town, Sam scratches his disgusting hillbilly goatee absent-mindedly and reaches for his sword. “Now this shit ain’t right,” he cautiously says to himself. “The Texas horse said it was the busiest place in town but I think this is something else.” Injured and dying ponies run to and fro in utter chaos; screaming and crying in their flight from some great and terrible danger that remain shrouded in the obnoxious clouds of dust they had kicked up. “What the super fuck is going on!?” Sam shouts, scrambling to the side of a gruesomely slashed and carved grey stallion. The poor butchered quadruped could only vainly gasp for air as its eyes’ gaze fell upon the horizon and froze there. Still partially cradling the dying creature, the hard crunch of gravely dirt under metal boots draws his attention to the now dissipating cloud of panic dust. Sword drawn, Sam takes a step back and readies a lightning bolt spell. “Come on motherfucker I’m ready to do the ol’ hucklebuck,” he taunts the mysterious figure. “So come get some sweet Tallahassee lovin.” As the last of the dust settles, a white robed figure with a marbled orange face mask steps forward and waves at him cheekily. “Hello mister host,” The robed murderer says in a playful yet patronizing tone before starting to slowly circle and strafe Sam. “Where are your phantom friends mister host?” Taking the initiative, Sam throws a lightning bolt at the robed man and prepares to get a quick swing of his sword in while he recovers only for the enemy to roll right under it and stand up just in time to block the swing and mock the Floridan further. “Greedy greedy never gets!” Sam slides his sword down slightly and headbutts’ the other man in his mask, staggering him back slightly. “Shut up, you Ser Winter wannabe.” He replies, reaching into a pouch for a small vile of frostbite spider venom. “Let’s see how you like being poisoned you big fuckin nerd!” The stranger shrugs and produces a small cloth wrapped medallion, sweeping it over his falchion’s blade in one smooth motion. As he does so, the blade is imbued with a powerful looking purple and black aura. “DARKMOON BLADE OP!” He shouts, jumping towards Sam and swiping the wide blade of his curved sword at him as he lands, just barely missing his mark. “Shit!” Sam moves to the left to dodge a jumping attack from the stranger, kicks dirt in his face, and reaches into a pouch on his hip for a potion of invisibility. Let’s see you fight me now fucker. The second the last of the liquid slides down his throat, Sam vanishes before the stranger’s eyes. Making the most of his temporary invisibility, Sam carefully positions himself behind the white robed man and grips his sword in two hands. All I have to do is get a sneaky lil stab and this dumbo is donezo mc spunzo. Just as the razor sharp tip of his sword comes within a foot of his would-be victim’s back, the masked stranger quickly swipes his left hand in an arc around him and Sam’s backstab is foiled entirely. THAT’S FUCKING HORSE SHIT! His attack parried, Sam falls to the ground; momentarily stunned by the seemingly impossible maneuver the man had just pulled off. The stranger wags his finger and shakes his head at the sight. “Nonono,” he practically coos. “No backstaberino.” The stranger points down at the ground and chuckles slightly. Swinging again from a half standing up position, the masked man knocks Sam down once more, and then begins bullying him like an out of control frat boy. Fuck. What do I do? I can’t sweep his legs because he’s faster and I can’t stab him because he just blocks it and knocks my fat ass to the ground. How am I supposed to........oh shit I forgot I could just– “FUS RO DAH!” With a mighty shout the stranger is flung through the fucking air like George Clooney in a car accident, sending him head over heels into the really fucking hard front doors of a massive crystal tree. “Ha got you good fucker!” Sam cheers, walking over to the unconscious assailant to search him for loot like any good adventurer would. Before he can get the stranger’s mask off, the door said stranger was propped up on opens and the unconscious warrior’s body flops backwards onto the recently added doormat like a flaccid dick. “Sweet Celestia!” a slightly drowsy sounding mare exclaims in confusion and panic. “What is going on here?!” Sam looks up From his interrupted looting session to look the pony right in its eyes. “What kind of fucking doormat says "Tree Sweet Tree"?”
The Cliche prologue The Cliche prologue Discord laughed long and hard in the most maniacally cliche way he possibly could, really putting some effort into it. "Now it's time to have some fun with my dear pony friends," he says. "First I'll bring twilight here to see if she's busy with something important." Discord concludes, providing exposition to nobody in particular as he casts a teleportation spell with the snap of his scaly claw. An arduously slow minute passes, and nothing happens whatsoever. "That's odd, I'm sure that should've done it." The Puzzled Draconequis thinks aloud. "No matter, I'll just keep going until She appears like she's supposed to!" He decides, snapping his fingers rapidly. A short moment later, absolutely nothing happens for the second time. Discord folds his arms and frowns while floating upside down dressed as a clown wearing a crown. "Oh poo. This is quite the predicament," he taps his chin and a mirror appears in front of him. "Magic must be on the fritz again. I didn't even want to be an upside down frowning crown clown, I wanted to be an cold old bowl of moldy gold but my magic made me into an upside down frowning crown clown. I suppose I should lay off the chaos for just a bit while it calms down and returns everything to normal." The powerful being muses, thoroughly disappointed that his magic had basically done what it wanted rather than what it was actually supposed to do. Meanwhile in a reality completely contrary to the one equestria resides in, absolutely something happens.
Something indeedSam sipped his ginger ale and munched on the last morsel of perfectly fried chicken remaining from his lunch. The chicken had actually been part of a chicken sandwich but fell out before he could take the first bite and landed in the sandwich's wrapper, but rather than return the little nugget of breaded goodness to its rightful home, he'd let it stay put until now. "Chick-Fil-a is Good shit, but I shouldn't be eating it all the time because my doctor says I need to start keeping my cholesterol in check before I have a lil' stroke." He explains into a moderately expensive microphone fastened firmly to his desk. "That and because they're like super homophobic or something. I dunno, I'd like to eat nothing but these dope ass sandwiches but it funds a bunch of dickheads that like to mess with people who don't really need to be messed with, and it might actually fuck me up later so I'll just be a horrible person every once in a while instead of all the time always like I usually do." Sam stops, finishing the thought as his character on the computer monitor in front of him fell to its death from the top floor of an underground dwarven ruin all the way to the rocky bottom of the cave. "Goddamnit, belrand fucking pushed me off the edge while I was talking and now I have to do all that spelunking over again. I fuckin hate these ruins, they're the big stinky buttholes of Skyrim and I don't fucking like em." He groans frustratedly into the microphone. "While we're waiting for this to load, lemme hit you with lil fact; did you guys know that argonians actually piss and shit outta the same damn hole, like pigeons? They're Fucking giant pigeons that's what they are, and I- Sam is cut off by the sound of his computer crashing with a loud screeching noise. "The fuck do you think your doing?" He asks the malfunctioning machine as the screech gets louder and louder. He scrambles to get up, but slips on an empty can of Canada Dry and panics as his monster gaming PC screams like a T-1000 getting buttfucked by a wrathful fax machine. "Oh man I'm not ready to die yet, please God this is some bullshit you've thrown my way and I'd appreciate it if you'd knock it off and cut me some slack for like, once ever my dude." Sam prays as sincerely he can, his prayers seemingly answered by sudden silence, then the sound of windows starting up normally. Surprised and thankful that he didn't actually get blown up, he stands up and warily sits back down in his chair and reaches out to the mouse and keyboard. "Well then, that was something indeed." He says matter of factly, a strong layer of displeasure and concern evident in the statement. With bated breath, Sam types his username and password (Username: GeneralSam123, Password: TassiveMesticles123) into their corresponding boxes and hits log in. "You scared me for a bit, I though I was about to eat shit in major way." He said to his computer as the screen changes and his desktop appeared on screen. "Guess I should get back to recording from today and be done with that for a hot minute so I can figure out what's what in the butt with you, you stupid garbage ass computer." He thought aloud to the computer that he'd built by hand the previous year. He scrolls the mouse cursor over the Skyrim icon and double-clicks. As soon as the screen loads he hits full screen and opens his recording overlay, looking at the files. He hadn't lost any footage and the game had auto saved right before it crashed, so he scrolls over to the little red button icon and clicks 'record'. "Theeeeere we go." Sam says, letting out a sigh of relief before clearing his throat to start talking fro the video again. "Hey guys it's General S— Literally as soon as the recording starts, the entire screen explodes in his face and knocks him out like an angry punch from Mike Tyson.
Stranger in a strange land"U N C U T l P U S S Y." Sam awakes face down in the dirt like a paraplegic breakdancer, his ears ringing slightly. "Fuck was that about?" He asks no one, rolling onto his back and sitting up. "That piece of shit didn't kill me, did it?" Sam ponders as his armor and sheathed sword make sitting up from his current position a bit awkward. Then he realized he was wearing a full set of fucking armor, with a sword sheathed on his left side and a bow with quiver held in place on his back. "Ummmmmmmmmmmm what the fuck!?" Sam groans as he looks the weapons and armor over. "This is all my Skyguy stuff isn't it?" He says, drawing his bow and turning it over in his hands. "Scopey Dopey Doo, but do I got arrows?" Sam reaches to his back and he grabs at the first thing his hand comes into contact with; a scroll. "No arrows, what is this fucking amateur hour? Who gives a guy a swanky mcspanky bow but no arrows for the damn thing? All I got is this roll of musty ass paper labeled....." His eyes, though unaided by the prescription glasses he usually wears, have no trouble reading the label written on it in plain English. "Scroll of conjure arrows." ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ "Guess I should follow the scruffy dirt road and find a town so I can try and get the fuck home. Hey, kinda like a dumb version of the wizard of Oz. Awww, I hate that movie," Sam complains as he starts walking. "With the fuckin dog and that big gay lion. I swear if somebody starts singing or dancing I– A small orange horse with a hat trots past the biped without a thought, then realizing that what it saw doesn't make any sense, stops in its tracks and turns around slowly as Sam follows suite. When the two make eye contact, they double take. "What the hay?" "What the hell?" They both take a surprised step back and stare at the one another, an eyebrow raised at the absurdity of the situation. "Did that horse just fuckin talk?" "Did that thing just talk?" The orange horse rubs its chin with a hoof and stares at Sam who scratches his chin and stares right back. At last, the carrot colored quadruped breaks the silence consuming the moment. "My name's AppleJack, wh- "Like the cereal?" Sam interrupts immediately, followed by another question. "Or like that nasty shit homeless people and retards drink?" The horse laughs and points a hoof at the strange creature. "That's the one mister whatever you are." It answers, the feminine voice carrying in an unmistakable Texan accent. Eyes widening, Sam steps towards the bizarre talking animal. "You're from Texas?" "Texas?" His eyebrows hit maximum facial altitude as he continues questioning the citrus colored horse-yokel. "You know, bang mah sister cuz mah uncle-dad told me to..." Sam pauses, holding a finger in the air as he ponders something. "Wait, I'm sorry. I was thinking Utah, not Texas." He corrects himself. AppleJack bursts out laughing and smacks a hoof across the adjacent foreleg like a human redneck would slap their knee while howling at a particularly funny looking bit of roadkill. "You sure are funny mister— Now's my fucking chance! I have to tell it it my name is somethin fucking godlike, like Black Hitler or Doctor Jesus! C'mon, I gotta think of somethin good. Maybe something like.... "Sam." He interrupts her, his half smile of optimism leveling out into a flatline expression of regret, if only for a split second. "Well Sam, you from round' these parts?" AppleJack asks. Sam shrugs and laughs slightly. "I don't know, where is here exactly?" "We're right outsida PonyVille right now, and that's in Equestria." She explains, as if the information conveyed wasn't the biggest heap of bullshit nonsense ever uttered. Yawning, the armored man shrugs again. "Yeaaaaah, I'm fucking lost. There a hotel nearby?" AppleJack nods, but then jumps up with a wide grin. "Shoot, if you're lookin for a place to stay, why not just come stay at the farm? We got warm beds, clean water, and all sorts a' contrived apple products that nopony really buys!" She offers nicely. "Sounds pretty good to me," Sam agrees. "But when we get there, I'm going to need a stiff drink. And by a stiff drink, I mean about ten of them."
Impatience of a saint"F A C K I N l S P A G H E T T I." Sam and Applejack walk along the surprisingly well maintained dirt road, but are stopped by the sight of a large brown bear. Sam draws his sword almost immediately and readies what he's pretty sure is a spell in his left hand, but without the assistance of his partner in crime Belrand, he questions his ability to beat the bear's ass. "So uh, you got any large-and-in-charge-horse magic you can bust out or are you useless for shit like this?" He asks, his eyes still locked on the bear. "I reckon I've got a good kickin hoof, but there ain't no magic here big guy." She offers. With an interruptive fury, the bear roars like a bipolar child and charges the two southern bells. "WEAAH!" Sam screams in manly terror as the large bear lunges forward and decks him in the noggin with a powerful swipe of its paw, rendering the world black and soundless as unconsciousness is thrust upon Sam instantly, like views on a thousand degree knife video. I just got knocked out by a bear. Fuck sake, where's Belrand when you need him? Dude's real good at goin ham egg and cheese on bears and shit while I watch and do fuck all. I mean, I wake up with all the skyguy stuff but I don't get Belrand? Fuck me that's some sort of tragic. _______________________S A M M Y I S U N C O N S C I O U S ______________ Suddenly, a very disoriented and understandably frustrated Sam jolts awake and upon sitting up, realizes two things of moderate importance; all of his shit was gone, and he was sitting in a bed built to fit a ~~midget~~ ~~dwarf~~ little person "Well this is some shit." He says with a sigh, taking in his surroundings. "Wait. How the fuck did I get here? I got Jimmie jammed by that bear and woke up here." Sam ponders aloud habitually, oblivious to the entrance of a small, lemon-colored horse with wings. After a moment or two, the horse makes it's presence heard, it's voice effeminate and soft. "I...I told that bear to work his anger out elsewhere and to leave nice ponies alone. You weren't awake and I thought that you'd...." The small equine explains in what could be considered a whisper. Even though it may have been but a whisper, Sammy's lil ears still heard it and sent him into highly aggressive southern panic mode. It was in this, a moment of pure surprise and fear, that he did something pretty baddass, if completely overreactive. "Fus Ro Da!" With a word, the diminutive yellow horse is thrown into the air with a quickness thoroughly unfamiliar to her, and barely catches herself with a flap of her butter colored wings. Sam sat in silence for what felt like forever staring with eyes wide and wild, until the lightly shaking yellow Pegasus finally meets his eyes and speaks again. "S...Sorry.......I....I......sorry...." She apologizes sincerely, earning a double take from the human that now stood before her. Holy shit I can shout like a big boy. Almost made glue from that pony though, so I guess I shouldn't go around shouting at everything like a deaf evangelical. Sam shrugs and relaxes a bit as he looks over the harmless pegasus. "You okay....." The mare blinks filling in the blank with a barely audible "Fluttershy." Huh, that's a dumb name. Who the fuck names their kid Fluttershy? Stepping forward, Sam bends down to her level. "Nice to meet you Fluttershy, my name's Sam. Sorry I caused a ruckus in your house," He says casually. "I didn't mean to scare ya like that. I get a bit loud when I'm surprised." As if a switch was flicked, the shy pegasus turns to look him in the eye and speaks without the fear present a moment earlier. "Well it's nice to meet you Sam. I'm glad you're not really mad or hurt. Applejack told me what she knows about you and you seem okay but a bit rude." "Yeah that about sums me up," he pauses, looking around at the well kept cabin. "Place is pretty clean and sturdy for a house made by hooves. I was worried I might've destroyed the entire place when I ripped the nasty just then but we ain't knee deep in rubble so that's pretty cool." "Thank you, I try my best to keep it all tidy, but sometimes I have a little help from my animal friends or discord if he's up for it." But Sam had basically stopped listening by the time she had finished the sentence, for a small white rabbit had hopped its way over and started tugging on his pantleg incessantly, gesturing to the front door as if suggesting Sam leave immediately. If this rat doesn't fucking stop I think I'm gonna bust a fuckin lip. "Hey is this your adorable bunny?" He asks, grabbing the animal by the scruff of its neck and holding it in front of him for Fluttershy to see. The mare nods and smiles a bit. "Oh yes, that's Angel Bunny. He's my most special animal friend." At that, the bunny squirms about in Sam's grip and bites down on his index finger, drawing blood with surprisingly sharp and pointy teeth. "I'm leaving." Fuck. Sucking on his finger lightly, Sam locates his personal items and equipment, slides into his backpack and armor, and stomps out the door without another word. Fluttershy watches the foreign creature gather its strange belongings and depart in silence, her sympathetic gaze turning hard and disapproving as a certain little rabbit hopped back into the room with a little look of guilt on its cunty little rabbit face. Outside, Sam frowns and bandages his finger with a bit of cloth found in his backpack. "Wonder if they got some food in town."
Red phantom"D O l Y A l L I K E l M E M E S?" A circle of blood and smokey red light writhes into existence; a horribly trill and unnatural sound piercing the forest air and its exotic brand of silence. From within the pitch black center of that dark and soulless void, a figure cloaked in white and grey rises. With a solid marbled mask of amber and yellow, the figure stands, and the circle evaporates into the air as if it had never been present at all. “Alright, got my falchion and my...where’s my chime?” The man asks aloud, turning around in place. “Could’ve sworn I had my chime on me when I started to invade.” After a moment of walking around searching for his missing belonging, the masked man shrugs and draws his sword. “Oh well. I guess I forgot to bring it.” He concludes, turning towards a faint but familiar sound. The growling of a beast. The masked man backsteps on well honed reflex as the creature launches itself at him like a mountain of orange and red death, its powerful jaws snapping shut where his throat had been a second previous. "Host must've seeded me like a bitch." “Oh ho ho miyazaki, fucking manticores now? What next, medusa?” He shouts in a playfully inquisitive tone as the beast begins to circle him. With the speed of lightning the manticore pounces once more, but the man simply rolls underneath it and backsteps once more, slipping his left hand into the gaurd of his trusty buckler shield. “Thats right motherfucker, I’m too fast for your jumping attacks.” He taunts, moving towards the mythical predator until there is but a mere foot between them. “Swing baby, swing!” He yells in the beast’s face demandingly. The manticore’s deadliest weapon, its insanely powerful scorpion tail, flexes and strikes downwards at the challenge with its curved tip poised to kill. The masked man stands his ground, and just as the tip of the tail moves over the head of the beast, he swings the small metal shield gripped in his hand to the left and bats the stinger away with ease. “Get fucking parried idiot!” He laughs as the creature falls back, stunned by the maneuver. Still laughing, the masked man walks up to the prone manticore and plunges his sword straight into the monster’s abdomen, putting a well armored boot against the slain beast to aid in the withdrawal of it. “Ha, Oroboro for parry king 2017!” He declares, sheathing his weapon and turning towards a small ray of light stabbing through the dense forest. “I’ll bet that’s where the host will be hiding. Better get going if I’m gonna beat his ass too.”
Shekelstein goes to market”M E l M E l W A N T l H O L E.” Stopping in the middle of town, Sam scratches his disgusting hillbilly goatee absent-mindedly and reaches for his sword. “Now this shit ain’t right,” he cautiously says to himself. “The Texas horse said it was the busiest place in town but I think this is something else.” Injured and dying ponies run to and fro in utter chaos; screaming and crying in their flight from some great and terrible danger that remain shrouded in the obnoxious clouds of dust they had kicked up. “What the super fuck is going on!?” Sam shouts, scrambling to the side of a gruesomely slashed and carved grey stallion. The poor butchered quadruped could only vainly gasp for air as its eyes’ gaze fell upon the horizon and froze there. Still partially cradling the dying creature, the hard crunch of gravely dirt under metal boots draws his attention to the now dissipating cloud of panic dust. Sword drawn, Sam takes a step back and readies a lightning bolt spell. “Come on motherfucker I’m ready to do the ol’ hucklebuck,” he taunts the mysterious figure. “So come get some sweet Tallahassee lovin.” As the last of the dust settles, a white robed figure with a marbled orange face mask steps forward and waves at him cheekily. “Hello mister host,” The robed murderer says in a playful yet patronizing tone before starting to slowly circle and strafe Sam. “Where are your phantom friends mister host?” Taking the initiative, Sam throws a lightning bolt at the robed man and prepares to get a quick swing of his sword in while he recovers only for the enemy to roll right under it and stand up just in time to block the swing and mock the Floridan further. “Greedy greedy never gets!” Sam slides his sword down slightly and headbutts’ the other man in his mask, staggering him back slightly. “Shut up, you Ser Winter wannabe.” He replies, reaching into a pouch for a small vile of frostbite spider venom. “Let’s see how you like being poisoned you big fuckin nerd!” The stranger shrugs and produces a small cloth wrapped medallion, sweeping it over his falchion’s blade in one smooth motion. As he does so, the blade is imbued with a powerful looking purple and black aura. “DARKMOON BLADE OP!” He shouts, jumping towards Sam and swiping the wide blade of his curved sword at him as he lands, just barely missing his mark. “Shit!” Sam moves to the left to dodge a jumping attack from the stranger, kicks dirt in his face, and reaches into a pouch on his hip for a potion of invisibility. Let’s see you fight me now fucker. The second the last of the liquid slides down his throat, Sam vanishes before the stranger’s eyes. Making the most of his temporary invisibility, Sam carefully positions himself behind the white robed man and grips his sword in two hands. All I have to do is get a sneaky lil stab and this dumbo is donezo mc spunzo. Just as the razor sharp tip of his sword comes within a foot of his would-be victim’s back, the masked stranger quickly swipes his left hand in an arc around him and Sam’s backstab is foiled entirely. THAT’S FUCKING HORSE SHIT! His attack parried, Sam falls to the ground; momentarily stunned by the seemingly impossible maneuver the man had just pulled off. The stranger wags his finger and shakes his head at the sight. “Nonono,” he practically coos. “No backstaberino.” The stranger points down at the ground and chuckles slightly. Swinging again from a half standing up position, the masked man knocks Sam down once more, and then begins bullying him like an out of control frat boy. Fuck. What do I do? I can’t sweep his legs because he’s faster and I can’t stab him because he just blocks it and knocks my fat ass to the ground. How am I supposed to........oh shit I forgot I could just– “FUS RO DAH!” With a mighty shout the stranger is flung through the fucking air like George Clooney in a car accident, sending him head over heels into the really fucking hard front doors of a massive crystal tree. “Ha got you good fucker!” Sam cheers, walking over to the unconscious assailant to search him for loot like any good adventurer would. Before he can get the stranger’s mask off, the door said stranger was propped up on opens and the unconscious warrior’s body flops backwards onto the recently added doormat like a flaccid dick. “Sweet Celestia!” a slightly drowsy sounding mare exclaims in confusion and panic. “What is going on here?!” Sam looks up From his interrupted looting session to look the pony right in its eyes. “What kind of fucking doormat says "Tree Sweet Tree"?”
