Archer: Magic

Chapters

Zone 1
Zone 2
Zone 3

Zone 1

It was a scorching mid-afternoon in the arid desert of New Mexico. This particular location happened to be near the secret entrance to a top-secret CIA research facility, from which eight people and one malnourished infant had recently been kicked out for being inept and/or insane: the former members of the covert agency known as ISIS (no, not that ISIS), among them one Sterling Archer. He was currently wearing a pair of shades and staring triumphantly into the distance, much to the irritation of his associates.

“Ok, so is anybody gonna ask what his idea is, or are we just gonna stand here slowly cooking in our own juices all day?” quipped Pam.

“For once, I must agree with Pam,” said Malory. “Please, by all means, Sterling, tell us just how you are planning on getting us out of the wretched mess.”

“I bet it’s a carnival!” exclaimed Cheryl. “I’ve always wanted to be one of those bendy people.”

Cyril sighed and rolled his eyes. “This is Archer. I’m sure it’s far more dangerous than that, and even less likely to work.”

It was then that the man in question finally broke his pose, turning to face the others. “Actually, it involves almost no danger. And it will work, assuming Krieger pulls through for us.”

Krieger pointed to himself. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Or, rather, your wife.” Archer blinked. “Actually, no, just whatever your wife is made of.”

“A long range hologram projector coupled to advanced AI firmware?” Krieger asked.

“Sure, whatever.”

Lana narrowed her eyes, firmly cradling Abbiejean with her freakishly large hands. “And how exactly is Krieger’s Japanese virtual wife technology going to provide for our daughter?”

Archer slowly reached over and placed his hands on her shoulders. Then, he uttered a single word: “Bronies.”

Lana stared. “Bronies? What?”

“I concur. What the hell is a Brony?” Cyril asked.

Archer smiled mischievously. “Only a member of the most fanatic of subcultures, with devotion that supersedes reason and money to burn.”

Malory steepled her hands. “Continue.”

He cleared his throat. “So, there’s this show called My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, and—”

Pam immediately broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter. The only person not glaring at her after the first minute of such was Ray, and only because he was still lying unconscious from having his spine broken again.

Her chuckling finally petered off. “Sorry, it’s just… that sounds like something for little girls.”

“Obviously,” said Archer. “But weird man-boys also like it. To an unhealthy degree. So I was thinking we could, like, make a bunch of those projectors for the different characters and sell them at a premium.”

"That’s… actually not bad, Archer. It’s child-friendly and everything,” said Lana.

“I’m in!” added Cheryl. “I had ponies when I was a girl, they were great. It was fun to feed them to my pet crocodile as I watched.”

After quickly shooting a look of utter horror at her, Cyril nodded to Archer. “At this point, anything that isn’t illegal or liable to get me shot is fine.”

Krieger rubbed his chin. “Yeah, I can do that. Guess I’ll table my other projects. Cultivating an army of hybrid mantis shrimp men will have to wait.”

“Dang, that does sound like it would be awesome,” said Archer. “I immediately regret my decision.”

“Of course you do,” sighed Lana.

“Actually,” began Pam, “How the hell do you even know about this pony show in the first place?”

“Hey, yeah,” said Cyril. Then, a sly smile crossed his face. “Just why is the manly Sterling Archer familiar with something called My Little Pony – and its fans?”

Archer frowned at him. “I’ll have you know that I regularly need to temper my sheer badassery with some sort of outlet, lest I just start uncontrollably wrestling tigers with my bare hands 24/7. Also, Rainbow Dash is my spirit animal.”

Malory snickered. “Rainbow Dash? That sounds like something a gay stripper would put on their breakfast gruel!”

Archer’s frown was immediately redirected. “Dammit, mother, she’s a character from the show.”

“A poorly named one,” she replied.

“Heh, I bet the others all have even more stupid names,” said Pam.

Archer snorted. “One of them’s named Applejack.”

Pam’s eyes widened. “Never mind, she sounds delicious.”

Cheryl nodded sagely. “All ponies are. At least, they were to Mr. Throat Ripper.”

Ignoring Cheryl’s usual brand of psychosis, Lana abruptly changed the topic. “Is nobody going to bring up his sunglasses? Because when Archer put them on, I thought for sure that he was going to suggest we try opening some kind of 90’s throwback detective agency.”

“What? Where did you get that idea?” asked Archer. “Why would anyone need a reason to put on eye protection in the middle of a god-damn desert?”

“He’s got you there, Lana,” said Krieger. “They call it ultraviolet radiation for a reason, you know.”

Defeated, she merely sighed.

When nobody deigned to continue the conversation, Cyril groaned. “Well, I guess it’s back to praying for a passing car we can hitchhike, then.”

~ 2 Days Later ~

“Ta-dah!” exclaimed Krieger, framing the recently completed devices set out on the table next to him with a pair of jazz hands. They were each shaped like steel cubes with various lenses, lights, and other photonic equipment poking out of the casing. All seven were plugged into the same power strip.

Cheryl clapped rapidly and Archer grinned with pride while the rest of them just stared, standing nonplussed in the middle of the lab.

“Krieger, why are there only seven of them?” asked Malory. “That’s not nearly enough for a product launch.”

“Because the CIA confiscated 87% of the equipment in my lab before we got back here,” he replied.

“Cut him some slack, mother. It’s not like you were any help,” said Archer. Then, to Krieger: “Go on, man, explain how they work.”

“With pleasure,” he said, clearing his throat. “So, as you already know, these ‘Virtual Ponies’ use the same type of projector and fast-learning routines I developed for Mitsuko-chan. Except their base personalities were compiled from the TV episodes – thank you, Netflix – which was a lot faster than programming them from scratch.”

“We’ve got just enough for each of the main characters,” added Archer. “The plan is to test them out for a bit to make sure they’re legit, then show them around to raise money. The stickers are just for the prototypes.”

Upon closer inspection, they did indeed each have a small, glittery sticker of their respective character on the side, pulled off a sheet bought fifteen minutes ago at the drugstore across the road.

“Heh, nice job, tough guy,” said Pam, snickering.

“What are you waiting for? Turn them on already,” said Malory. “I have a pedicure appointment soon and I’m not missing it.”

“Based on prior experience, we’re waiting for something to backfire horribly,” said Cyril.

Lana nodded in agreement, arms crossed. “There’s a reason I left Abbiejean at the daycare today.”

“Pffft, they’re holograms, guys,” said Archer, taking a swig from the flask in his jacket. “They couldn’t hurt anything even if they wanted to. Which they don’t, because their mantra is literally ‘Friendship is Magic’.”

“I dunno…” Cyril said.

“Do it do it do it!” goaded Cheryl.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” said Krieger. Without any further ado, he reached over and switched them on.

The Virtual Ponies immediately appeared with a pop of static, their holographic bodies about three feet tall. Among them were Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Spike, who, let’s be honest, totally counted as a pony.

They all appeared groggy, as if they’d just been rudely awoken from a peaceful sleep.

“Owie, I must have partied harder than I thought last night,” said Pinkie as she rubbed her head.

“Aww, they’re so cute!” said Cyril.

Applejack was next, prying her eyes open. A few blinks, and she stood, able to comprehend her surroundings. Namely, the group of huge, unknown creatures staring at her. She reacted about as well as one could expect: by screaming “Waugh!” and backpedaling into the nearest wall.

“So far, so good,” said Malory sarcastically.

This started a chain reaction as her friends were startled to full alertness. “What’s going on?” exclaimed Twilight, leaping to her hooves. Her eyes widened as they darted back and forth between the people present.

Fluttershy squeaked in surprise and huddled next to Applejack.

“In hindsight, I probably should have expected this,” stated Archer.

Not having heard him, Spike waddled up next to Twilight, sharing her bafflement.

The first thing Rarity noticed was that something was very wrong with her hooves, tilting them from side-to-side. “What in Equestria?”

Dash’s reaction, meanwhile, involved punching. “Hey, back off, creeps!” she exclaimed, flying into Cheryl’s face hooves-first. However, the woman didn’t budge an inch, as if she had collided with a brick wall.

“Dash!” chided Twilight. “Don’t just attack them!”

“But they foalnapped us while we were sleeping!” Dash said, hovering.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all, hit away!” assured Cheryl. “Although it would be better if I could feel it,” she added under her breath.

“I thought you said these ponies were nonviolent, Archer,” said Lana.

At that, he rolled his eyes. “Comparatively. And Rainbow’s my favorite for a reason.”

Rainbow cocked her head to the side. “Wait, you’re a fan?”

“No shit,” replied Archer. “I wish I could break the sound barrier. Then I wouldn’t have to keep carpooling with these guys all the damn time.”

Twilight sighed in relief. “It’s ok, girls, they’re friendly. Even though their vocabulary seems to be… different.”

Now placated, everypony gathered up in front of the ISIS crew, no longer afraid, but still very much confused and curious.

“I have many questions,” began Twilight. “Where are we? Who are you? What are you? And why are our bodies translucent?”

Krieger turned to Archer. “Should we traumatize them all at once, or a bit at a time?”

“Dude!” exclaimed Pam.

“For once, I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Archer. “Take it easy on ‘em.”

“Twilight, what does ‘traumatized’ mean?” asked Spike.

The way her face now paled was all the answer he needed. Fluttershy was also back to hiding in the corner.

Sighing, Cyril decided to man up for once and answer Twilight. “Right now, you’re on another world, called Earth, where we humans live.”

“Also there’s no magic here, so everything sucks,” added Archer.

There was a collective gasp among the ponies.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” said Pam. “We have Trans Fats, which are almost as good.”

“No magic?” said Twilight. “How is that possible?”

“Yeah, how do you even have anything to eat, if’n that’s true?” said Applejack.

Krieger rubbed his chin. “Am I allowed to explain how photosynthesis works to Orange Horse here?”

“Do we suddenly have three years to spare?” asked Malory. “And I don’t think any of these ponies are supposed to be black people; we should address them by name.”

“Oh yeah, those are a thing,” said Cheryl.

Lana, meanwhile, glared at Malory.

“I guess introductions are in order,” said Cyril. “I’m Cyril, and that guy who has the pegasus running scared is Dr. Krieger.”

“Hey-o,” he said, waving.

“I’m Pam, the cool girl who’s great at parties and better in bed.” She then gestured to Cheryl. “This is Cheryl. We think.”

She gasped at that. “I’m not Cheryl Tunt? Am I actually a giant fungus or something? Because that would make sense.”

Archer took another pull from his flask. “I’m Archer, the world’s greatest secret agent of all time, and that’s my mother, Malory. She’s less cool.”

“And I’m Lana, the woman who still regrets pity-boning him.”

“Hey!” Archer exclaimed. Though it looked like he was about to break into an angry tirade, he swallowed his pride for the sake of the ponies. “Now it’s your turn. Krieger and I are the only ones who know who you are.”

Twilight, though still overwhelmed by the situation, slipped into friendship princess mode out of reflex. “Oh. Well, my name is Princess Twilight Sparkle. Just Twilight is fine.”

Malory nearly choked on her own tongue.

After a brief pause, the others followed her lead despite their various misgivings, starting with Rainbow Dash, as is the norm. “Rainbow Dash, fastest of the Wonderbolts,” she said, pointing to her face.

“Uh, I’m Spike the Dragon.”

“My name is Pinkie Pie and I’m SUPER excited to meet you!” She started pronking in place gleefully.

“Applejack,” the mare in question said, tipping her hat.

Rarity curtsied. “I am Rarity, a lady well versed in both fashion and generosity.” Then, when she failed to speak up, Rarity added. “And sweet Fluttershy still seems to be rather nervous.”

“We all are, Rares,” said Applejack, brow furrowed. “She’s just the worst at hidin’ it.”

“I’m not nervous! Just confused,” insisted Rainbow, hovering with her hooves crossed. “For once, I’m with Twilight here. You… humans haven’t told us what’s up yet, and I wanna know.”

“Exactly,” said Twilight. “Are you all spies? Why did you bring us here? And, most importantly, can you send us back once we’re finished?”

“Well, we were all intelligence agents, and we still would be if some of us hadn’t horribly botched our most recent job,” said Lana.

“That’s exactly right,” confirmed Malory with disdain. “And you seven are going to be our tickets to the high life.”

“Wait, really? You abducted us just to make some quick bits?” exclaimed Spike.

Cyril put up his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s not that bad! Technically we didn’t abduct you at all.”

“How does this not count as abduction?” asked Rarity. “One minute we were celebrating Starlight and her friends for saving us from Queen Chrysalis – who also foalnapped us - and the next we wake up here!”

“Yeah, funny story,” began Pam. “The thing is… none of you are actually real.”

“You’re cartoon characters that were created by a faceless corporation to sell toys!” added Cheryl.

The Equestrians just stared at them in disbelief.

“That’s the single stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And I’ve met Discord,” said Applejack.

“How can we not be real?” asked Fluttershy. “We can think, and feel, and everything else.”

“Well, as of today, I guess you are,” said Archer. “Truly this is a momentous stepping stone on the path to the inevitable singularity.”

The others blinked owlishly at Archer as he chugged the rest of his booze. There was a heavy, drawn-out silence until Pinkie Pie broke it.

“Wait, did you girls seriously not know we were all fictional?” she asked.

Her friends’ jaws all dropped. Archer started laughing hysterically.

“I mean, nopony ever bleeds, everything has a moral, half the villains we fight get redeemed in seconds, Celestia constantly messes up for the sake of the plot… I could go on,” Pinkie said, her head cocked to the side.

“Uh… you’re making even less sense than usual, Pinks,” said Dash, her brow furrowed.

“Should I just play them an episode?” asked Krieger.

Pinkie nodded. “Oh yeah, that’d be way easier than explaining! Can you do MMMystery on the Friendship Express? That one was fun!”

“Sure, why not?” said Krieger. He then pulled up the appropriate episode on his computer and hit play.

And so, it began. For most, the experience would have put a smile on their face in one way or another, but the ponies beheld that which would cast their beliefs asunder, to be replaced with naught but despair. As the events unfolded before their eyes, each character reacted differently to the fact that they were just that: a character.

Twilight was the first to realize the implications, and immediately collapsed, curling into the fetal position while mumbling to herself. “It all makes sense now. Free will was just an illusion. Everything I did was preordained. I’m the protagonist.”

Next was Fluttershy. “We’re… we’re all just moving drawings? My animal friends were all just made to be my friends? I can’t…” She then began shivering uncontrollably.

Applejack’s legs gave out from under her. “My whole life was a life. My whole family was a lie. I’m a lie!”

“All my designs,” began Rarity with glazed eyes, “weren’t even mine to begin with. My passion, my creativity, it was all the work of someone else: my own creator. Is that all I am? Somepony else’s puppet?”

“Every time I did something awesome, it wasn’t actually me?” lamented Rainbow Dash.

“Uh, where am I in this? Am I just a… side character?” questioned Spike, a forlorn expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, yeah. You kindof are,” confirmed Archer. “Especially now that Starlight exists.”

Spike moaned in reply.

“Archer! You can’t just call someone a side character to their face!” exclaimed Lana. “I think. There’s honestly no precedent, but I’m pretty sure it’s still rude.”

Cyril nodded. “Yeah, that’s definitely rude. Also, I’m so, so sorry you had learn the truth this way.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad, Cyril,” Pinkie said. She then pulled the girls into a group hug to the best of her ability, given that Twilight, Applejack, and Spike were sobbing on the floor. “We still have eachother, right? And friendship is magic! I’ll support you, and we’ll get through this together!”

“Well, however you do it, you need to get your shit together fast,” said Malory. “No one will buy copies of your souls if you’re just going to be wailing wrecks.”

Pam gasped. “Too soon!”

Now all seven of them were crying their eyes out.

“See, look what you did!” Pam added.

Malory shrugged. “What? It’s not like they actually have feelings.”

“They have more heart than you, mother,” quipped Archer.

“It’s true, I did hardcode that in. Where’s your heart algorithm, hmm?” asked Krieger, as he leaned in closer to Malory.

Malory harrumphed and turned away. The ponies continued to cry into eachother’s simulated coats.

“Come on, cheer up!” said Cheryl. “Who knows, maybe we’re all fictional, too!”

In a more well-planned effort to calm them down, Lana inched closer to the pony pile and knelt. “Shh, shh. Just let it out, everything’s going to be fine. We’ll show you all the neat stuff on Earth later, okay?”

“And if we can get enough money, we’ll bring all the other ponies here to keep you company,” added Cyril.

That got Twilight’s attention. “No! You can’t! Nopony else should ever be subjected to this waking nightmare!”

“That’s a bucking given!” exclaimed Rainbow Dash. “Can one of you guys punch him for me?”

Eager to oblige, Archer decked Cyril in the stomach, hard. He fell, wheezing in agony.

“Thank you,” said Dash, wiping the tears from her face with a wing. “Seeing that makes me feel a little better.”

“You’re welcome,” replied Archer. “I probably would have done that anyway.”

“Fuck you,” moaned Cyril from the ground.

“Lana’s idea actually sounds fun, though,” said Cheryl. “Once they’re done lamenting the cruel nature of their existence, we can go paint the town red! I call Pinkie Pie!”

“Actually, yeah. It would be less than ideal for all the bronies if they had to explain everything about our society to them,” noted Krieger.

“That probably would reduce sales,” said Malory.

Cheryl started clapping in excitement again. “Yay!”

“I guess it’s settled then,” said Lana. She stood, placing her hands on her hips with pride.

“Just let me pair everyone else off,” said Archer. “God knows what she would do if mother got stuck with Applejack.”

At that moment, both of them glared at him in unison and asked “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

Archer crossed his arms. “I rest my case.”

Pam sighed. “Whatever, can we just get to it, then? After all those meals I missed in the desert, I could still eat, like, four pizzas.”

“Alright, alright,” said Archer. “Just give them a few more minutes to calm down and Krieger and I’ll take care of it. Assuming Cyril is off his ass by then.”

The man in question could only groan as Pinkie slowly worked her magic.

This was going to be a long day.

Author's Note

Fittingly released on Spend-All-The-Money day. I may need to add in the Dark or Drama tags, but I can assure you that the rest won't be subjecting our favorite characters to any more existential woes.

Actually, now that I think about it, Shadow Play wasn't that bad. Writing over a dozen characters in one scene isn't that easy. Let me know if you think I made it work. Also let me know if you're liking this so far!

Zone 2

~ After more group therapy and pony buddy assignments ~

Cyril carefully parked his car outside the small shop, Spike bouncing with anticipation in the seat next to him. "Well, here we are. I've never been to a place like this before, so I have no idea what to expect. Hopefully nothing too weird."

Spike snorted, pointing to the sign over the door which simply read 'COMICS'. "It's a comic book shop. They tend to be weird, like, intentionally. That's half the fun!"

"If you say so."

Neither of them wanting to waste more time sitting around, Cyril picked up Spike's projector. It, and the others, had been hooked up to robust portable batteries. The pair of them then walked inside. The first thing they noticed were the shelves upon shelves of comic books. Also boxes and rotating racks. Then they noticed the chill-looking bearded man behind the counter, who shrugged upon seeing Spike.

"Hey, new faces!" he exclaimed. "Welcome!"

"Thanks! I'm just gonna look around for a bit," replied Spike.

Cyril set the projector down on the counter. "Do you mind if I leave this here? No? Good."

Much like a kid in a candy store, Spike zipped around, poring his eyes over the dozens upon dozens of comics on display. "Hey, this Flash guy looks kinda like Fili-second! And that other guy's head is on fire! Are those demons? Sweet!"

Spike's enthusiasm proved contagious, and Cyril smiled. "Let me know once you've made up your mind and I'll buy a few issues for you."

"That was to be expected, but thanks!" said Spike.

Reaching over, Cyril patted the spot in the air where Spike's head started. "It's my pleasure, you scamp. We little guys need to look out for eachother, you know?"

Spike nodded sagely. "Because no one else will. The life of an assistant is a difficult one."

"Tell me about it."

Spike's eyes gained a mischievous glint. "I would, but I was gonna go back to gushing at your world's comic books."

Cyril chuckled at that, not bothering to respond as Spike returned to browsing.

Cue the continued running draconic commentary. "Wow, this one looks terrible. Who drew it? Some guy named Frank Miller, apparently. This Samurai Jack series looks way cooler, very stylized. And it's based on a TV show, too! With all this talk of kindred spirits, now I have to get that one. What's over here? Let's see, Hawkman, Hawkeye, the Falcon, the Vulture, the Penguin, why are there so many characters named after birds? And that guy is just an actual duck! See, Star-Lord sounds way better..."

Eventually, Cyril tuned him out, and started eyeing the MSRPs of the books. Now visibly curious, he turned around to face the shop's proprietor. "Say, Mr...?"

"Everybody calls me Pete."

Cyril blinked. "Ok, uh, Pete, I was wondering, how profitable is this business?"

At that, he snorted. "Not."

Cyril cradled his chin with his hand in thought "Really? Huh, I figured, with the margins, the near-uniform pricing, and the small staff that even low revenue would be compensated for."

"Yeah, I can see why somebody'd think that. Though, I'm not a financial wizard like you, apparently. Heck, I can barely make it as an actual wizard."

"Former financial wizard. There's no glamour in that line of work. At all."

"Wait, you're a wizard?" interjected Spike as he walked back over. "I thought magic wasn't a thing here."

Pete blinked down at him. "It isn't. I was talking about D&D."

"D&D?" Spike asked.

"You know, Dungeons and Dragons? The tabletop fantasy role playing game with the dice?"

"Oh, that sounds like Ogres and Oubliettes!" Spike exclaimed. "I've played and GM'd plenty of O&O!"

"Well alright, then!" Pete pointed back at a door on the far wall. "Actually, today's game night, there are some guys setting up to play in the back right now."

"Really, that's awesome!" Spike then looked up at Cyril. "Come on, let's go check it out! I'm gonna need you to be my claws for a bit."

"Sure," replied Cyril. Then, under his breath, he added "Can't be close to as intense as getting into an actual fight."

So, the pair of them ventured forth into the back room. The creak of the door drew the gazes of four people sitting at a plastic table. Much to Cyril's surprise, they too reacted in a nonplussed manner to Spike. Quips, however, were another matter.

"Look, it's a holo-dude and his manservant," said a man with curly hair.

"Hey!" objected Cyril.

As Spike giggled, another guy wearing glasses joined him. He turned to the GM and said "Didn't we just fight a purple wyrm?"

The chubby guy sitting next to him sighed. "You and your puns. He's clearly a juvenile Lizardfolk."

"Sorry to intrude, but I was actually hoping to join you guys," said Spike, waving to get their attention. "And for the record, I'm actually a dragon."

Glasses-guy snorted. "If you're a dragon, then I'm King Kong."

"Now now, that's no way to treat a new player," said the GM. Then, he smiled at Spike. "We've been waiting for somebody to take over the NPC Rogue."

"Neat!" said Spike. "Hey, Cyril, pull up a chair for me so we can get started."

Cyril sighed, grabbing a chair from one of the other tables. "It's gonna be a long day."

Malory exhaled in contentment as she reclined in a plush leather chair, armrest in one hand and a glass of brandy on the rocks in the other. A Polynesian woman whose name she probably couldn't remember delicately rubbed essential oils into her aching feet. Truly, one could describe this as the perfectly relaxing experience she needed after the past few days. Or at least, it would have been perfect, if not for Rarity, who stood off to the side glaring angrily at her.

"What?" said Malory, turning her eyes toward the holographic mare. "Did you expect me to skip this for you?"

Rarity flicked her tail in annoyance. "Yes! It would have been much more courteous to put the needs of your guest first and foremost."

"I am being quite accommodating right now," said Malory. "I could have just turned you off until I was finished."

At that, Rarity's frown became a full-blown scowl. "So, I'm supposed to be happy just because you aren't actively trying to upset me?"

Malory paused to sip her drink and bask in the pleasing efforts of her silent pedicurist. "I was under the impression you enjoyed this sort of thing. What with that over-styled ribbon you call hair, you must spend half the day in the salon."

Rarity flinched away as if she had been physically struck by Malory's words. "Ah-pfft-what? Over-styled? Everypony else says my mane is fabulous!"

Malory rolled her eyes. "Sure they do."

"And yes," Rarity continued, "I do frequent the Ponyville Day Spa. However, I am in currently in no state to enjoy any spa, let alone this one."

"Hmm? Oh, right holograms. Sucks to be you." At that, Malory shut her eyes and waved her away. "If you're not in the mood to wait quietly, then go drag your aristocratic ass outside. Eat some holographic hay or something."

It took a moment for that to sink in, but when it did, Rarity gasped. "Unbelievable! The nerve of you to suggest such a thing!"

Malory gulped down some more brandy, kept her eyes shut, and shooed Rarity again.

"Ugh, fine! I've never met anyone as entitled and insufferable as you in my entire life, and I've been to Canterlot!" To properly punctuate this statement, she flipped her mane with a hoof. "I'll leave you be for now, but I shall expect an extensive tour of all this world's great couture when you're finished."

Malory sighed in resignation. "Fine. Just don't get your hopes up. Fashion these days is pathetic. Anything that isn't a bargain bin frock mostly involves taping random objects to malnourished immigrants. But if you insist."

Nodding with satisfaction at her affirmative and... descriptive response, Rarity quickly took leave of Malory, trotting back into the spa's lobby to converse with the confused customers.

Fluttershy stared at the creature before her, its grotesquely long limbs, patchy black hair, and beady soulless eyes evoking memories of many sleepless nights huddled under her bed in fear of possible monsters. But this beast was all too real, and seeing its unmoving form looming over her was unnerving in a way she had never before experienced.

Petrified where she stood, Fluttershy managed to squeak out a hello. "H-Hi there."

The horse neighed.

Fluttershy slowly spun around to face Lana. "I very much regret my decision," she said.

"I tried to warn you," Lana replied. "You were the one you wanted to see an animal that didn't exist in your world."

"I know," Fluttershy admitted, hiding her face behind her mane. "I'm not sure what I expected, but this wasn't it."

Lana shrugged. "Yeah, well, most animals here on Earth are pretty stupid. At least Abbiejean is enjoying herself."

Currently, Abbiejean was looking forwards from her seat in a stroller, eyes wide in wonderment and grasping at the air. She was actually trying to cuddle Fluttershy herself (as any sane person with a pulse would), and was completely disinterested in the horse, but neither Lana or Fluttershy knew that.

The infant's adorable antics cheered Fluttershy up a bit. This minor improvement ended shortly thereafter as the horse audibly defecated on the spot.

At that, she cradled her head in her wings. "Why oh why did I not pick the butterfly conservatory?"

"I am so sorry," said Lana. "Because I'm used to dealing with embarrassing situations caused by my insane coworkers almost constantly, I may have gotten desensitized to, like, the entire emotion."

"It's ok. You don't need to apologize," said Fluttershy with a smile. "You had my best interests at heart, and that's what really matters."

Lana nearly hitched at the sweetness. "Where have you been all my life?"

Fluttershy opened her mouth to respond, but couldn't find the words.

"Seriously, once all this is over, would you be open to staying with me and Abbiejean? Please?" asked Lana.

Fluttershy gasped. "I'd love to! Especially since you asked."

"Ooo, right, the whole endless replicated slavery thing. Sorry about that too, AI ethics wasn't something I was even aware of until today."

Fluttershy's muzzle hardened a bit at that. "It's fine, I've come to terms with it."

During the awkward pause that followed, the horse decided to poop some more.

"That, on the other hoof, I don't think I'll ever be able to come to terms with."

Lana groaned. "Back to my place?"

"Back to your place."

At the lab, Twilight waited patiently as Dr. Krieger finished rigging up some sort of addition to her projector.

"So, Dr. Krieger," began Twilight. "You never actually explained how whatever it is you're doing is going to help me read. Not that watching you work isn't fascinating it its own right, but still. I'm guessing it's something to do with the fact that, as a light-based projection, I can't directly interact with objects, right?"

Suddenly, Krieger raised a finger and walked off. "Hold that thought. Uno momento."

"What does that even mea— aaand he's in the other room now."

When Krieger returned, he was not alone, but rather accompanied by another man wearing a paper bag over his head. The bag-wearing man carried a large stack of textbooks in his arms, and Twilight began pronking in place when it was placed on the floor in front of her with a satisfying thud.

Krieger, humming to himself, took a remote control out of his pocket and plugged it into the projector. "They you go, all set! You should be able to move this fellow around now using your magic," he said, placing an arm on bag-head's shoulder. When Krieger saw the worry on Twilight's face that statement produced, he added "Oh, this is just a robot. No free will at all, totally fine!"

Twilight scanned the robot with as much scrutiny as she could muster. "It looks so anatomically accurate, though! And what's with the bag?"

"Oh, that's because I can't risk Archer and the others finding out I built robotic duplicates of them without their consent," replied Krieger. "Wait. Dammit. Look, just don't tell them, ok? It's a secret to everybody."

Not really knowing what to make of that, and too eager to dig into those books, Twilight replied "Sure?"

"Great! If you need me, I'll be right over there doing research," said Krieger as he pointed to his desk.

He hadn't even sat down before Twilight spoke up. "Uh, excuse me, but these are all books on science and engineering. Didn't I request history?"

Krieger spun around, crossing his arms. "Yes, but the history of the human race is one fraught with needless war, mass genocide, torture, famine, disease, and bad folk music. You're better off not knowing, trust me."

Twilight's brow rose.

"Also, I'm too lazy to go the library, and I already had those," he added.

Twilight sighed. "Ok, thanks."

It took Twilight a bit to get used to how different moving the robot felt from her usual telekinesis, but soon she was nose deep in the first book.

~ Many pages later ~

"Horsefeathers, the place is crazy in the best way."

Krieger blinked, turning in his chair. "Huh? What'd you say?"

Twilight didn't bother repeating herself, but rather continued voicing her thoughts. "I mean, I can easily see the weather running by itself. The lack of a schedule must be a nightmare, but given enough practice and pattern recognition, the farmers and architects can compensate. But the entire field of astrophysics? Mind. Blown. It makes so much more intuitive sense than Equestria's system! The whole point of changing it for the show was probably to make Celestia and Luna more important to the story, and wow I feel like a jerk for thinking that."

"If it helps, I have absolutely no idea what Celestia and Luna mean in this context," said Krieger. "Did you have any questions, or do you also like thinking out loud for no discernable reason?"

"Of course I have questions! Is it true almost all of your vehicles run on explosions? How can anybody be confident in their personal safety if that's the case? And why would human society even keep using petroleum fuel when they know its use irreparably damages the environment? You can't possibly be that nearsighted and power-starved!"

"Because money. And, yes, we totally are that nearsighted," confirmed Krieger. "I tried to get approval for a 4th-dimensional resonance battery, so we could screw over our ancestors instead of our descendants, but the government said it was 'too risky'."

Some of the color drained from Twilight's face. "Uh, they were probably right."

"Bah, what do you know," he said. "Still, I'm surprised you didn't bring up nuclear reactors before the combustion engine."

"Oh, that's because I'm already very familiar with quantum physics."

"You are?"

Twilight nodded. (She totally is. Rewatch the very end of The Hooffields and McColts if you don't believe me.) "The possibility of a fission reactor has been a known theory in our academic circles for a while now. But when you can start a cold fusion reaction with enough magic instead, then why bother?"

Krieger stared at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "Huh, neat."

"I'd love to see one in operation, though."

"Then you'll need someone else to chaperone, because I am probably now blacklisted for life by any organization with more technology in house than a potato clock," said Krieger. "But I'll show them! We can do plenty of other stuff off the record. Say, you wanna help me try and detect some Gravitons?"

Her ears perked up. "Do I!"

Pam narrowed her eyes in thought at Applejack as she picked up her sandwich. "Okay, so *nom* let me get this straight: you actually like being on a farm doing chores 'n stuff? Toiling in the dirt and shit from an ungodly hour in the morning?"

Applejack tried to defend herself, but her words remained unformed when she was unable to stop herself from retching in disgust at the sight of the woman across the table.

"What?" Pam asked, still chewing her food. "You don't like it when people talk with their mouths full? My folks would pull out the paddle for wasting time waiting to talk with it empty!"

Applejack shut her eyes and took a deep, blissfully scent-free breath to compose herself. "Not that, it's the *urp* horrendous thing you're eatin'."

Pam paused. Her eyes trailed over the uncontested dive that was the surrounding eatery, the poor décor only topped by the layer of unidentifiable grime that seemed to cling to every square inch of surface available. Pam begrudgingly nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Arby's is pretty terrible. Only reason we're in here is 'cause it was so close."

The sound that came out of Applejack's mouth was a mix of a growl and a groan. Her teeth clenched. "No! The... the corpse shavings."

Pam glanced down in surprise as if she hadn't realized what she'd been eating up until this point. "You know, I guess you could call it that." She then pointed a thumb to the side. "I should let their marketing department know, hehehe. Can't possibly make their reputation any worse."

Applejack's chin hit the table, her hat falling over her face.

"Anyway, where were we?" asked Pam. "Oh yeah, farming."

"Honestly? I don't think any of my usual hobbies are on the table," said Applejack with a sigh.

Pam grinned. "That's not just because they all ran for the hills when they saw what was for dinner, was it?"

Snorting at the bad joke, Applejack elaborated. "Working, helping out, rodeo, they're all physical."

"Oof. I get it now," said Pam. "I wouldn't like it if I couldn't punch a bitch when a bitch needed punchin'."

"I'm sorry, but, bitch punching?" asked Applejack, incredulous.

"Language!" Pam said, laughing. "Aren't you supposed to be a kids show character?"

"Actually, now that you mention it..." began Applejack, her eyes widening, "that's something to do. It would be nice to know if our show was doin' a good job of teaching you folks how to better themselves. Privately, I've always liked to think of myself as a pony whose example is worth following."

"Oh? Yeah, I can do that, but are you sure that's all you want to know?" asked Pam, mischief in her eyes. "Or do you also want to check how popular you are compared to your friends?"

If she hadn't been thinking along those lines before, AJ certainly was now, a small blush now tinting her cheeks. "Sure, might as well do that too."

Pam pulled out her phone, smiling. "Ok, let's see what the internet has to say. Probably something stupid."

Applejack waited patiently, facing to the side and pondering just what an 'internet' was. At the same time, Pam polished off her corned beef with one hand while surfing the web with the other. Eventually, Pam finished, and called out Applejack's name to get her attention.

"I've got good news and bad news," said Pam.

"Alright, let's get the bad news out of the way," said Applejack.

"So, uh," Pam reluctantly began, "basically, neither the little girls or the Bronies like you."

"Aww, horseapples." Applejack's expression soured. "Does it at least say why?"

"Well, the kids prefer your friends because they're more cute than you, and the Bronies can't form an emotional connection to your character as easily 'cause you're less crazy than your friends."

AJ's jaw dropped. "Seriously? How is being sane a bad thing?"

Pam shrugged. "Just calling it how I'm seeing it."

"Fine. What's the good news?"

"The good news is that your show actually has inspired plenty of people to better themselves, mostly through charity work."

A small smile graced her face. "I suppose I can overlook bein' third-string if it means I'm helping make this world a better place."

Pam fidgeted a bit. "Sorry girl, but that might not be the case. You've also inspired like just as many perverts."

Unable to find an adequate response, Applejack began stuttering incoherently.

"I mean, shitsnacks, I don't think I've ever seen this much fanmade porn in one place before! There's like over 9,000 pieces of erotica alone! Not to mention any of the actual pedophiles that have been arrested."

The stuttering increased in intensity. Then Applejack fell off her seat.

"Still, you're lucky. I wish I had this many people jacking and/or jilling off to me on a regular basis!"

Applejack was now twitching on the floor, her eyes glazed over from shock and revulsion.

Now noticing Applejack was no longer visible, Pam peeked under the table to check on her. "Uh, are you ok?"

"Hey, so, Pinkie, what's it like being a cartoon character?" asked Cheryl as she sipped her coffee. "Probably super nuts, right?"

Pinkie giggled at that, bouncing along next to her as they leisurely toured the city. "Oh, yeah, it's great! At least, it is for me, since I knew about it from the start. As long as I'm being my usual fun-eriffic self, the writers will let me get away with basically anything. Breaking physics, breaking the fourth wall, you name it!"

Cheryl's face fell. "Must be nice. I have, like, oodles of money, and I still get bored sometimes."

"Oh, well that's no good. You should spend more time with your friends, then!"

"Eh, I dunno," Cheryl said, Pinkie's exuberance having little effect. "I've stuck around with them so long because they were entertaining. But now the novelty is starting to wear off a bit."

Pinkie gasped, her jaw widening an impossible amount. "That's no way to talk about your friends! I'm sure if you let them know how you're feeling they'll support you!"

Cheryl just shrugged. "Well, what about you? I doubt all of the people watching your show on TV would go out of their way to change unless you bribed them with hedge funds or something, even if you did consider them 'friends'." She encapsulated that last word in air quotes.

Now visibly perplexed, Pinkie started intently up at Cheryl. "Uh, I'm not sure where you got that idea. Just because I can see the screen doesn't mean I can see through it. And even if I could, I don't think the Hasbro executives would let me just talk to the audience for a whole episode." Perking back up, she added "still, most of my fans would probably at least try to clean up their act if I asked!"

"If you say so."

"I do say so!" confirmed Pinkie. "And in the meantime, I'll cheer you up in their place!"

Pinkie then proceeded to zip in front of Cheryl, pull her party cannon out of her mane, and blast holographic confetti (basically sparkles [of the non-Twilight variety]) into the woman's face.

Though not surprised, Cheryl smiled as she halted in place. "See, you're interesting. Interacting with someone who's happy all the time usually makes me gag."

"Wait, really? But... you were so excited earlier! That only happens with perpetually cranky people!"

"I'm rich," Cheryl plainly said, as if that explained everything about her eccentricities. It only explained most of them. "My birthright is to only laugh when I feel like it. Or when a peasant needs to be haughtily demeaned or something."

After a brief silence, Pinkie spun her tail like a propeller to bring herself up to Cheryl's eye level. "Challenge accepted! By my honor as a party pony, I will not rest until I have make you chuckle, guffaw, laugh, giggle, or chortle!"

Cheryl blinked. "Sure, ok."

And so began an onslaught of Pinkie's best material. Cheryl was beset by puns, horse puns, sight gags, general goofiness, and more as she just resumed walking, nonplussed. But Pinkie was unrelenting in her pursuit of a smile, and kept the jokes coming mercilessly. Random bystanders aplenty cracked up when they passed, but not Cheryl.

At least, not until her wandering eye settled on something across the road. Then she laughed uproariously.

Pinkie noticed this, immediately deflating. "Really, sister? What could possibly be funnier than a bald sheep replacing its wool with whipped cream?" To see what the fuss was about, Pinkie then turned her gaze in the same direction as Cheryl's. There, she beheld a miserable looking man wearing three equally ratty hoodies layered over eachother and holding a cardboard sign which read 'please help'. For once, Pinkie was speechless.

Cheryl, however, was not. "It's a hobo! Hobos are hilarious!"

Pinkie looked at the beggar in dismay as Cheryl kept laughing. "But... he's probably starving!" Pinkie exclaimed. "Who knows when he last had a nice bubble bath?"

"Exactly!" Cheryl managed, as she nearly doubled over from amusement. "Plus, everyone else in his family probably either hates him, is also broke, or are all dead!"

"How could you say that?" asked Pinkie after another dramatic gasp, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "Poverty isn't funny at all! It's the opposite of funny!"

Cheryl finally started to calm back down. "It is to me! I - whew - think there's a word for it in Krieger-speak. Scha-something."

Pinkie's ear twitched. Her opinion of Cheryl had rapidly undergone a 180. "Please answer the question," she said.

Cheryl quizzically tilted her head to the side. "Hmm? Because my family also hates me just as much as I hate their asses, and you can joke about your own circumstances? Because I'm rich and get to laugh at the poor, as I said already? Because I am - and I quote Malory on this - 'a terrible person and literally worth less than a dung beetle's shit'? Take your pick."

Pinkie stared at her for a good twenty seconds. "You need therapy. And not the frosting-covered kind."

Cheryl nodded. "I get that a lot."

Archer knelt next to a wall in an alleyway, keeping to the shadows as he surveyed his surroundings. Once the coast was clear, he quickly dashed through an intersection, precious electronic cargo in tow, and crouched down behind another building.

"Uh, why are you doing that?" asked Rainbow Dash as she hovered over his shoulder.

Archer twisted his head back around to address her. "Doing what?"

"Sneaking."

Archer rolled his eyes. "Because I don't want to be seen, obviously."

"Well, yeah, I figured," said Dash. "It's just that, well, I'm here too. And I'm not exactly the most inconspicuous mare, ya know."

"I am aware," said Archer. "It's better than nothing, though. Also, this is a nice area, so the streets are all clean. There's literally no downside."

Dash chuckled a bit. "That, and watching you do spy stuff is pretty awesome."

"Obviously."

After that, Archer kept traversing the streets in Stealth Modetm for a little while. At least until Rainbow spoke up again. "Say, where are you taking me, anyway? Some sort of stunt course?"

Archer didn't stop moving to answer immediately, instead dive rolling over to the next corner and pointing around it first. "Here."

Taking his cue, Dash flew over to poke her head around the wall. Visible a short distance away was a decently-sized wharf. Tied to the docks were a variety of privately owned boats, ranging from dingy, two-person recreational fishing dinghies to small party yachts with three decks and everything in between.

Rainbow raised a skeptical eyebrow at Archer. "We're here for a boat?"

"Not just any boat: a speedboat," Archer elaborated. "I know you have a major boner for speed. But an airplane would be massively underwhelming, and you've already driven a derby cart - what were those things powered by, anyway? - so then I thought: 'hey, she probably hasn't gone fast on water before'. And now we're gonna do that."

Rainbow's mouth slowly broke into a grin. "Ok, now I'm actually getting excited."

"Glad you're on board, because now you need to help me steal one."

It took Dash a second to register that statement. "Huh?"

"Even I know that owning a boat is a stupid idea." Archer suddenly stepped forwards and started walking towards the docks, eyes scanning into the distance. "Just watch my back and make sure nobody calls the cops while I'm hotwiring the thing."

Dash hovered there, blinking, before noticing Archer had left and shooting after him. "Wonderbolts don't steal! We're supposed to, like, embody valor or whatever!"

"Well, you're not in Equestria anymore, and I won't tell if you won't," said Archer. "What's a little grand larceny between friends?" It was about that time when Archer spied their seafaring chariot for the day: a sleek, tapered vessel with two engines and flames painted on the side. "Jackpot," he added.

Dash followed along on autopilot as Archer jumped into the boat and started tinkering with the controls. She was still conflicted about the whole thing, but after some thought, realized she couldn't stop Archer anyway, and might as well enjoy the result.

"What the, it's a flying— hey that's my boat!"

Spinning to face the source of the shout, Rainbow's eyes met those of a very peeved man with tanned, wrinkly skin and sunglasses. When she glanced back at Archer, he clenched his lips and silently flicked his head towards to boat's owner, then went back to work.

Rainbow gulped, then flew up to the man. "Hi, so, nice to finally meet you, I'm your guardian alicorn!"

The man blinked in confusion. "Is that like a guardian angel?"

"Yes?" said Dash. When his expression softened into one of skepticism, she continued. "And I'm here to tell you that you should ignore him and go home!"

He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. "Why?"

At this point, Rainbow had broken out into a cold sweat. "Well, uhh... because he's dangerous. Very dangerous. That's my job: helping you avoid danger."

"Yeah, I'd totally kill you," chimed in Archer.

After processing this new information, the man's eyes widened, and he slowly began walking backwards with his hands up until he was off the wharf. Then he drew a cross over his chest and booked it.

Dash let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Then, she crossed her legs and huffed at Archer.

"What?" he said. "That was great; you'd make a better field agent than Cyril."

She almost asked if he was being serious about killing the guy, or if he was just acting, but figured that for once she'd keep her thoughts to herself. Con Mane had no qualms regarding murder, at least on missions. Besides, now she would get to ride the boat!

With an abrupt jolt, the speedboat's motors roared to life, Archer beaming in excitement as he took his seat behind the wheel. "Woo! Listen to that!"

Rainbow's ears swiveled, almost pulling her head to face the rumbling rotors. As Archer tied down her projector, Dash plopped into the seat next to him, the events before now already water under the bridge.

Archer unceremoniously undid the rope and tossed it overboard before revving the throttle. "Ready to see what this girl can do, RD?"

"Heck yeah!"

"Then let's go!"

The boat accelerated rapidly, pulling out of the docks and into the open ocean. Archer laughed as their speed built, watching the smile on Rainbow's face grow as the vessel started to angle backwards. As the boat's wake grew frothier, and the pacific waves grew bigger, her smile began to rival one of Pinkie's.

"The bumpiness is intense! It's like flying in a vortex!" Dash exclaimed.

"This is nothing," said Archer. "We aren't even at this thing's max speed yet!"

"Really? What are you waiting for?"

Taking that as his cue, Archer pushed the speedboat to the limit, the pair of them hollering in delight as its angle with the water doubled in degree. The G forces sent a thrill through the both of them. Once he'd determined they'd gone out far enough, Archer moved to reverse course in the flashiest, least advisable, and most badass manner possible: cutting the gas and pulling hard on the rudder to drift to the side. There was a tremendous splash as they spun, whitewater sailing overhead.

And then Rainbow Dash's body flickered a few times before sputtering out of existence.

For one blissful moment, Archer remained ignorant of what had just happened. When that moment passed, he looked at where Rainbow had been, then at the sparking, shorted-out projector, then back at the seat. "Oh. Shit."

Zone 3

One by one, as everyone returned from their excursions, the ponies were dropped back off at the lab for safekeeping. The stated reasoning for this was so they could keep eachother company, but in actuality the humans all had either had more important things to do - such as business planning - or simply couldn't be bothered. Those who had expected otherwise were supremely disappointed by this behavior.

Krieger was the last to leave. After they all watched him go, the colorful friends were unceremoniously left alone to catch up in the cold, grey room.

Rarity immediately turned back towards the group and huffed in annoyance. "I can't believe these people. Honestly, I'd rather go back to the Diamond Dogs! At least they knew how to treat a lady properly."

"Oh, they're not so bad," said Fluttershy as she gingerly wrapped a reassuring wing around Rarity. "At least, Lana seems nice. I'm alright with staying with her for a while."

"Good for you!" cheered Pinkie. She even clapped her hooves.

Twilight hummed in thought, facing Fluttershy. "Well, this current instance of you will get to, at least. We are being, erm, 'mass produced'. Who knows what all these Bronies are going to be like?"

At this, Applejack flinched. "Trust me, you don't wanna know."

Spike blinked at her in confusion. "If they're anything like those guys I met at the comic book store, we have nothing to worry about, though. They were great once I got to know them a bit!"

"Glad to hear someone had fun," groused Rarity.

"Was Malory really such awful company?" asked Twilight. "I know I'm one to talk, but as far as scientists go, Krieger was surprisingly agreeable. He was only slightly mad."

"Yes. She was," replied Rarity. "And judging from Applejack's unusually pale complexion, Pam's conduct was less than amicable as well."

Applejack opened her mouth to reply, but closed it before she could accidentally get her friends curious.

"So? All that means is that at least half of these guys are nice!" said Pinkie. "I like those odds!" She then turned to the last remaining pony in the room. "How about you?"

Rainbow Dash grinned. "Well, apart from the whole 'stealing from a terrified man' thing, I had a blast!"

"Seriously?" asked Spike, who was now eyeing Dash incredulously. "But Archer basically killed you!"

"It was worth it, though," she confirmed. "What's life without a little adventure? Plus, Twi's new egghead buddy fixed me right up, good as new." Rainbow then did a little flip in the air to emphasize the point. "It didn't even hurt."

"Still!" exclaimed Spike.

Pinkie nodded in confirmation after hearing from Dash. "See, nice!"

"Stealing is the opposite of nice!" said Applejack. "Rainbow, you should be ashamed of yourself!"

Dash just shrugged. "New world, new rules."

"Exactly," said Twilight. "Even if all of Archer's cohorts were vile, it's in our best interests to go along with what they want. The alternative is nonexistence."

"Or possibly creative forms of torture," added Rarity, staring grimly at nothing.

"They wouldn't do that!" said Twilight. "Er, would they?"

"I hate to admit it, but it's not like we could challenge this even if we wanted to," said Applejack as she turned away. "And the only thing stopping them from doing the same to everypony else is their word."

"Applejack! Rarity! Twilight!" exclaimed Fluttershy, quietly. "That's no way to think! Whatever happened to trust and kindness?"

"They're just being realistic, Fluttershy," said Pinkie. "And although that's not something I usually appreciate, I totally understand. Except, this time, you girls are super-duper wrong!"

"Uh, how so?" asked Rainbow. The others all nodded in agreement and looked expectantly at Pinkie.

"Because this is still a business, duh! Archer and the others are just marketing our usual, cheerful selves. So all we have to do is not act like that if they start being big ol' meanies, and then they'll have to hear us out or risk losing all their sales!"

As she processed this, Rarity slowly broke into a grin one might call a bit sadistic. "Ok, I feel better now."

Fluttershy brushed her mane with a hoof. "I still think the trust and kindness angle sounds much better to me, but I suppose threatening to bankrupt them also works."

Spike snorted. "That's the spirit."

"Well, it's better than nothing," said Applejack.

"Leave it to Pinks to get us all thinking positive again," added Dash. She playfully shoved the mare in question.

An audible squeak could be heard as Pinkie smiled ecstatically.

"So, cautious optimism it is," said Twilight, looking to each of her companions. "Let's wait and see how this convention about us goes and go from there."

She was met with a bevy of affirmative gestures.

After weeks of preparation, the day of reckoning was at hand. The much anticipated Ponycon was nigh. For one three-day weekend a year (at this particular location), Bronies the world over would gather to share in the love and friendship only a television show for children could bring.

Pam raised a hand high, rallying her longtime comrades. "Ok, team, let's milk these suckers for all they've got!"

Lana, who was busy setting up their booth, stopped to level a glare at her which seemed to ask 'really?'

"What?" Pam said. "We're all thinking it."

Cyril, after handing a folded banner to Lana, sighed at her. "Not that moral support isn't a good idea, but maybe you should have said that earlier?" He then gestured to the surrounding room.

The vendor hall was just short of massive. Dozens of people were busy setting up their wares, from handcrafted plushies and beautiful artwork to wood carvings and rows of hanging dakimakura. (If you don't know what those are, avoid googling them for your continued sanity.) Some had already finished setting up their stalls, and were trading idle chit chat among themselves. But a few nearby had turned to stare upon hearing Pam's cry.

Pam did not have the decency to blush sheepishly. Instead, she gave them the stink-eye and went back outside to carry in the next couple of projectors from the van.

Malory shook her head at the display. "Yes, that's it, back to work. Chop chop."

"Yeah, okay, just stand there and do nothing, mother," said Archer. He and Krieger were in the process of assembling a tall metal shelf. "It's not like it would be nice if you actually did something remotely helpful for once in your stupid life. Everybody else is."

Malory's left eyebrow shot up. "Really? Because Cheryl got distracted by something with glitter on it and vanished over an hour ago. Didn't you notice?"

Archer paused. He counted the heads of his cohorts one by one and came up short. "God damn it."

"Maybe," interjected Lana, "you could go look for her?"

Malory scoffed. "Have you seen this place? The festivities haven't even begun and the hotel is already filthy. Plus, I already checked the bar, and no Cheryl. My guess is that she's already been inducted into the ranks of this Brony cult."

"If this was a cult, it would be a terrible one," said Krieger, who had apparently been paying attention despite appearances. "These people have clearly retained their freedom of thought."

Everybody just ignored him and his tangent. Cyril in particular sighed at Malory, then said "Eh, she'll turn up eventually. Probably screaming and chasing around some poor bastard."

Archer snorted. "I can totally see that happening."

With that, Malory's idleness was forgotten completely as they each imagined the devastation Cheryl might be wreaking this very moment. In turn, they each threw themselves back into their labors in a futile effort to purge those images from their respective heads. However, they did soon manage to get their booth finished as a result.

The seven currently inactive hologram projectors sat atop a high shelf, away from wandering hands. Directly below hung a banner that read 'HOLOPONIES' in an overdramatic, neon pink font. Underneath the banner was a long table, covered by a cheap, white tablecloth, and another table was placed next to that one. The second table had a laptop, cash box, and credit card reader sitting on top of it. Both came with the appropriate number of chairs.

Eventually, the time came for the vendor hall to officially open. Archer wanted to do the honors, but Krieger beat him to the switch and punctuated the activation with a "Shi-pow!"

In an instant, the Mane Six and Spike materialized in front of them, somewhat disoriented.

"Oh, wow," said Twilight, blinking. "It's like no time passed at all!"

"Yep," Dash agreed. "Obviously not as much fun as flying, but you can't complain about waiting!"

Pinkie was already taking in the sights, zipping to and fro. "Ooo, look at all the neat stuff!"

Once she had straightened her hat, which had been jostled in her surprise, Applejack called out to Pinkie. "Hey, focus, sugarcube."

"Booze Horse is right, we've got a job to do," said Archer, his usual, smarmy tone replaced with a commanding one. "Our future depends on you."

"Archer is right. Let's get ready, girls," said Twilight, as she teleported into one of the chairs with a violet flash.

One by one, the others followed, AJ, Spike, and Dash like usual. Fluttershy, meanwhile, had visibly steeled her resolve, Archer's words a reminder that she wasn't just doing this for herself. Rarity was still a bit reluctant, but not as much so as Pinkie.

"But everything looks so fuuun," she whined, her pink hooves crossed in indignation. "Can't you give me an eensy-teensy bit of time to party with my fans?"

"Judging by the looks of things, I'd say the party's gonna be coming to us anyway," pointed out Pam.

Every last person in the room, merchants and con-goers alike, had stopped whatever they were doing to stare at the see-through ponies who had appeared, completely dumbstruck. It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Or, at least, you would have been able to if the floor wasn't carpeted. The ponies weren't quite sure what to do, and just kept chancing sidelong glances at eachother.

One man in a hoodie whispered "I really should have taken it easy on the pot."

Malory rolled her eyes. "Quit reciprocating their gawking and hustle! Places!" Then, she unceremoniously plopped herself behind the cash box.

"Uh, oh yeah," said Cyril, taking the seat next to her and opening the laptop.

Then, everyone was moving. Archer stood stoically with his arms crossed, guarding the merchandise. Krieger sat next to him, pulling out an electronic stopwatch. Pam and Lana started walking into the center of the room, beckoning to the onlookers.

"If anybody wants to talk to Fluttershy or any of the other Holoponies, please form a line!" shouted Lana.

"And if you wanna take 'em home, we've got preorders too!" added Pam.

This was enough to convince the onlookers that, no, they weren't hallucinating. They immediately dashed over to form a line as instructed, their wildest dreams now made real. Some of the other vendors even abandoned their own wares. More an more people filed in as word spread, and the line rapidly grew, snaking back and forth. Some of those present chatted amongst themselves, sharing joy and disbelief. Others just acted like groupies, screaming their love for their chosen Best Pony for said pony (and everybody else) to hear.

Applejack's jaw dropped. "Whoa, nelly. What an enthusiastic bunch."

"Yeeesss..." agreed Malory as she rubbed her palms together. You could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes.

Archer smirked down at the centers of attention. "You ready to get started?"

Before anypony else could reply to the contrary, Rainbow waved the first young man in line forward.

There were about ten full seconds of high pitched squee-ing before he actually managed to speak. "Hi everypony! I just wanted to say how much you all mean to me, especially Twilight. Watching you come out of your shell, make friends, and grow into a princess help me get over my own anxieties."

Twilight was taken aback, at a loss for words upon hearing his heartfelt admission. Spike, however, was not. "It's good to hear I didn't suffer through all those panic attacks for nothing," he said.

At this, Twilight's ears folded in embarrassment as all her friends and the teenage Brony giggled. After that, he had nothing else to add beyond a 'see you later', and graciously moved along to place his preorder.

The next person in line was wearing a girl wearing a Sunset Shimmer cosplay, complete with wig. She wasted no time on pleasantries. "So, I and many others have debated this question for years. Now I actually have the chance to ask: what are your sexual orientations?"

"Ha!" said Archer. "We've got a blunt one here."

"I'll say!" exclaimed a blushing Rarity. "How forward!"

Fluttershy, too, had turned red as an apple, and was hiding in her mane while making squeaky noises.

"Guess I'll go first," said Applejack as she made eye contact with the cosplayer. "I'm straight as an arrow."

"Her family's huge for a reason," quipped Rainbow. "And I'm gay, obviously."

A chorus of "Called it!" and "I knew it!" emanated from the rest of the line.

Spike rolled his eyes. "For the record, I have no idea. Beyond Rarity, anyway. I won't hit dragon puberty for another hundred years." He then twisted to look at Twilight.

The alicorn fidgeted in her seat. "I, uh, haven't really had the time to explore that, myself."

"And I don't discriminate!" chimed in Pinkie. "My first crush was a helicopter!"

Before she could elaborate on that, or Rarity and Fluttershy could answer, Krieger's timer beeped. "Ok, sorry, your turn's over," said Archer. "Next!"

The proceedings went by in a blur from there. Bronies of all shapes and sizes would approach, said what they wanted to the Holoponies, and then moved on to preorder one or more for themselves. If anyone questioned the ethics of the situation, they were far too thrilled by the alternative to complain. Some well-to-do folks even penciled themselves down for the whole set. Everything was going swimmingly.

At least, until the first furry showed up.

This particular individual was dressed as Bon Bon, covered from head to toe in cream colored, synthetic fur. The large headpiece's expression was set in a permanent, slightly unsettling smile. "Boy, was I sure surprised to see you here," he said.

Archer narrowed his eyes. Something was familiar to him about the man's voice, but he couldn't quite place it.

"Trust me, we were surprised, too," said Fluttershy.

'Bon Bon' waved a hand-turned-hoof in dismissal. "Not you and your friends. I always suspected somebody would pull this off eventually. I was talking about the people with you."

"Really? Why's that?" asked Pinkie, leaning over the table.

Before he could answer, Archer abruptly gasped, then furrowed his brow in rage. "Oh, shit! Everybody, get down!"

Then he whipped a pistol out of his coat and straight up unloaded half the clip into the guy in the fursuit, the sound of the gunshots echoing loudly throughout the hotel.

"Jesus Christ, Archer!" exclaimed Lana.

Cue mass panic. Everyone not familiar with Archer (namely the Bronies) started scrambling away in every direction, most while screaming. This included the convention staff and hotel security, both groups woefully unprepared for an actual, armed assailant, and they instead opted to call the police once out of harm's way. The noise tapered off as the last few tripped up stragglers fled the premises. Twilight and the other twice-animated characters were quite shocked, but didn't follow the throng out, some because they had never seen a gun before, others because of how familiar they were with crisis situations.

'Bon Bon' stood unharmed, save for the bullet holes in his outfit. He crossed his fuzzy arms. "Oh, come on. You can't be stupid enough to think that was going to work."

Archer kept his weapon leveled at him. "Why are you here, Barry!?" he exclaimed.

Now all the other former ISIS operatives collectively gasped. "Barry?"

"Oh, shit, that is him," said Cyril as he crouched into a defensive position.

Rainbow glanced back in confusion. "Wait, who is this guy, exactly?"

"And did you just try to kill him?" added a flabbergasted Twilight.

"It wouldn't be the first time, Twilight." confirmed Archer though gritted teeth.

Before Twilight could exposit on how generally terrible murder is, Applejack beat her to it. "Killing someone in cold blood is downright reprehensible!"

"He was a KGB agent!" protested Archer. "They're like the human equivalent of changelings! Er, before their extremely recent reformation. He's tried to kill me, too! Like, all the time."

"Oh, that in no way justifies all the shit you've put me through!" Barry exclaimed. "Since we've met, you've shot me, shattered both my femurs, stolen both my fiancés, got me turned into a robot, left me to die in outer freaking space, and also blew me up in a grain elevator! I mean, most of that was in the job description, but the adultery was completely uncalled for, hence my repeated attempts at vengeance!"

"Oh, boo hoo, I've been through worse in one day," said Malory, nonplussed.

Meanwhile, Dash was now staring wistfully at Barry and Archer. "That all sounds wild. I wish I coulda been there to see it."

"Yeah, the sex was pretty great," Archer admitted with a smirk. Barry's face was still covered, but you could tell he was now scowling just from his posture.

"Wait, and I'm sorry to interrupt this... fateful showdown, I suppose, but did Barry just say he's a robot?" asked Rarity.

"Oh, that's why he's dressed like that!" suddenly realized Pam. "He's gotta hide that evil, Terminator-ripoff body of his. And yes, he is a robot," she added on Rarity's behalf.

"A small price to pay for being literally bulletproof," said the now clearly annoyed Archer. "Nice choice of costume, by the way. Very clever. A spy disguised as a spy. What I don't get is how you're even familiar with MLP in the first place."

"Thank you. And actually, the show has a surprisingly active fanbase in Russia," said Barry. "The same guys who built my body got me into it. They've been working on a Sweetie Bot in their spare time for a while."

"And it's not done yet?" asked Krieger. "You'd think a full cyborg would be harder to construct, but what do I know?"

"In any case, Barry, are you going to try and kill us again, or what?" said Lana, hands on her hips. "Because I have an infant daughter now, and I do not particularly like the thought of her living without her only responsible parent."

"Funny you should mention that, because that's exactly why I'm here," said Barry. "Here as in talking to you assholes, not here as in Ponycon. When I saw you were making AIs of these not-assholes, it got me thinking. See, I never knew my parents."

"Oh my, how awful!" exclaimed Fluttershy.

Barry nodded. "Exactly. I'd been meaning to try and get in touch with my mother for a while now, but the first chance I get is after I was turned into a tin man that can't go to a detective without the feds being called."

"So instead, you're buying a copy of one," finished Spike with wide eyes.

"That was the idea," Barry said.

Upon hearing this, Rarity sighed. "Oh, if only I had my Shadow Spade outfit. Or any outfit with a coat, really."

"I'll be more than happy to help!" said Pinkie, who was now inexplicably wearing her old-timey investigation hat. "A mother's smile is sure to make anybody feel better. We just have to track her down!"

"Honestly, I'm not even sure the Elements could fix him, but it's worth a try," said Archer, finally putting his gun away.

After leveling an unseen glare at Archer, Barry twisted to address the ponies. "To be frank, this is going to mostly involve combing through an obnoxiously large pile of records. I was actually thinking Miss Sparkle would be more helpful."

Twilight's ears twitched in surprise. "Me? Well, I suppose I can do that." She narrowed her eyes. "But you have to promise you'll table your revenge schemes indefinitely."

Barry raised his right arm. "Sure. Scout's honor."

"Oh, like you were ever a boy scout," said Malory. "Cut the bullshit."

Barry sighed. "Ok, you got me there. I'll at least promise to stick to non-violent methods. Like, posting unfairly negative reviews of your product online, or something."

Lana facepalmed. "I suppose we can live with that."

"Also I want all seven of them. For free," he added, gesturing to the ponies.

"What! Come on, man, do you have any idea how expensive these are going to be to mass-produce?" exclaimed Krieger.

Barry stared at him, the menacing red glow of his eyes brightening enough to be visible through his mask. Fluttershy paled at the display as Spike's jaw dropped.

Cyril leaned over to stage whisper to Krieger "It's not worth your life, is it?"

"No..." he admitted.

"Great!" said Pam. "Let's get your written up." She then waved Barry over to the table.

As he walked over, humming in satisfaction to himself, Applejack threw up her hooves. "Don't we get a say in this?"

"Not really, no," Rarity helpfully pointed out.

"Cooperation, remember?" added Pinkie as she dragged the pair of them together into a hug.

Archer cracked a smile at the display. "All of us have been through worse. Trust me, everything will work out."

It seemed like Archer had been right. For about three minutes. Because after that the cops showed up.

Naturally, they were all taken in for questioning, except for Barry, who had escaped with superhuman agility the moment he hear the sirens, and Cheryl, who had already left the building entirely courtesy of poor impulse control. The detective in charge quickly determined that Archer had been the culprit, because everyone told him as much. Including Archer himself. He was then placed in prison, awaiting trial, but was later released in under a week once the police dug into his background. Putting a 'clandestine' government operative such as Archer under oath was a terrible idea.

The next two days of the convention went on as before, sans Archer, obviously. Monkey business may be universally frowned upon, but the pony business was booming. One could even take their roaring success as evidence that MLP was addictive. The last time the ISIS crew had seen this much cash was when they had been literally selling cocaine, so that was a reasonable hypothesis to make.

As it wound to a close, the ponies talked amongst themselves, still processing how much love and support they'd gotten without knowing until now. Malory, Pam, Krieger, and Cyril counted their earnings, bouncing plans for their future endeavors back and forth. Lana, however, stared off into space. She couldn't help but feel like they were forgetting something important...

~ Meanwhile, many miles away ~

Outside a hospital, a man sat in a wheelchair, glaring angrily into the distance. The overcast sky and loitering elderly people perfectly captured his current mood.

"Dammit, where the hell is everyone?" exclaimed Ray.

Author's Note

I probably could have stretched this out longer, but I didn't think I had it in me to write anything humorous enough to be worth the effort (at least, not compared to this final chapter). Especially since I can now move on to a different crossover I've been dying to write in some form for ages now. Fans of a certain popular anime villain should be most pleased by this next one.