Spike was only minding his own business on a rare day off, strolling around Ponyville, not tripping over his own feet, stealing things from other ponies or with a mouth full of gem pudding for a change.
He was on his way to... you know what, who cares. Such non-pivotal information is peripheral to the story anyway, so if you want more of the same dirge but with a different outcome, copy and paste the first thirty-one words of this story as a template for you to construct your own witty tale of our scaly protagonist getting up to all manner of crazy hi-jinx. I give you my express permission, and you won't even have to pay me royalties. Go on... don't avoid looking a gift pony in the mouth!
Anyway, as it just so happened he was humming a lil ditty. Want to know how it goes? Of course you don't. But I'm going to tell you anyway! The lyrics are printed below in all their thematic glory. Read 'em and weep, boys (and girls).
"A dooby do-do-do. A dooby do-do-do. A dooby do-do..." WHAM! "O-ouchie".
What?! Who perforated my perfectly printed prose? Who vandalised my verbosely verbal verse? Who mangled my methodical melodic musings?! Speak up, or face the wrath of the righteous writer!
How dare you so shamefully interrupt little Spikey-Wikey's joyous humming with your diabolical attempts at poetry! Why, this is a grievous crime akin in seriousness to freeing Tirek from solitary confinement, or chopping up the town residents to make sweetened baked products. As soon as I uncover for myself the identity of this anonymous saboteur, I'll... I'll...
Wait just a skadoodling second there though! Is that... a lump the size of a dragoness's egg slowly forming atop Spike's noggin I see before me? And what's that strange red shiny cylinder thingie with a tube and a nozzle attached lying next to his dazed form, which has seemingly just fallen from the sky right onto the drake's bonce?
Might that be... the actual root cause behind the unfortunate truncation of my unparalleled musical genius? Could I be harshly blaming innocent readers for my severely sabotaged symphony?
E-Er, sorry folks, and all that jazz. Shall we just put it behind us, and carry on with the show? I bet anyone who didn't read the short synopsis on the story's main page is just achin' to discover what this mysterious object was that clobbered Spike and cause him to be a temporary astronomer for a few brief minutes! (Please, if you're going to sue me for defamation of character, no lawyers. I'm allergic to them).
Stretching the art of credibility to extreme new levels, Spike had now shaken off his potentially devastating cranial injuries and instead of having to be fed through a straw for the rest of his sorry existence, was now feverishly scrutinising said artefact very closely indeed.
Amazingly enough, even though there was dozens of equine lifeforms darting about to ween out their menial little existences passing by, not a single dicky bird spotted this arcane device topple from the stratosphere to leave an indelible imprint on the dragon's skull region.
Either they were so blinded by the dubious power of friendship to notice something right in front of their eyes, or they were so used to world-ending events shattering their formerly peaceful lickle hamlet with increasing regularity that the droppage of an unknown item from the wild blue yonder barely registered on the Whoa-o-meter.
A few more conspiratorial types might have had a passing interest in this hitherto unprecedented event, but the majority of those weirdoes were thankfully safely tucked up in their underground shelters, protected from the tyrant Celestia's mind-reading gamma rays by lieu of the groovy hats constructed with only the finest tin foil they wore at all hours of the day. The Pale Ones, they're known as. Steal well clear, unless you have a penchant for ludicrously conceived theories of armageddon or a wish to treat your social life to an early grave.
Anyway, as we were embarking on yet another completely irrelevant tangent which had nothing whatsoever to do with the story at large, Spike has already thoroughly checked out the aforementioned thingamajig. He's tried tapping it (no sign of life). He's attempted lifting it (getting it at least two inches off the ground, yay). He's even given it a good, solid bite (bad decision... now an unscheduled trip to see Sadist Dentist the tooth-puller must be arranged. Sheesh.)
None of these fruitless activities provided any insight into what this enigmatic artefact could possibly be though, and Spike plomped himself on the dirt in a huff, arms crossed and wearing the deepest of frowns. Really, I should contact Twilight about this. he pondered thoughtfully, taking on a rare moment of self-reflection. After all, she's the one who knows all about these sort of strange futuristic gizmos and I'm a more mop-and-bucket kinda reptile. But before I drag it all the way back home to the castle, lemme just try one more thing...
He picked up the tube attached to the metallic apparatus and peered inside it intently, before speaking into the entrance as if it were some manner of newfangled microphone.
"Hello! H-E-L-L-O!! Can you hear me in there?!" came the sole echoey response from the other side of the pipeline, which confirmed Spike's growing suspicion that there was no tiny little individual residing inside gifted with the power of communication who could clear up this ongoing mystery.
The flummoxed reptile's odd behaviour however, did finally attract the attention of a small number of passing locals. They stopped to observe the dragon with mildly bemused interest, some thinking that maybe this was a kind of bizarro dragon ritual which they weren't privy to, whereas others simply had never seen anypony crack up in public before and wanted firsthoof experience of the drooling insanity which would no doubt follow.
Glowering at some of the unwanted pairs of eyes on him now, in comparison to when this thing fell thousands of feet from above to wallop him right on the head when he might've needed actual medical attention, Spike snarled in frustration, before deciding to issue a few words in defence of his own eccentric conduct.
"What's the deal with all of you... haven't you ever seen a guy talking to an inanimate object before?! Just because I almost suffered a fatal brain injury on account of this plummeting piece of scrap, it doesn't mean I've gone coo-coo! Why, for all you know, this could be an old relic from an ancient civilisation, which only responds to voice-activated commands! In discovering it, I could be the pioneer for a whole new generation of technology-enhanced creatures! I realise it kinda resembles a broken-down vacuum cleaner, but let me assure you, as someone who has one in his claw nearly all day long, it most assuredly is not. As soon as I take my prize to the princess, and she recognises that this curio could be the difference between preservation of the pony race or utter extinction, you just watch her give me a pay rise! O-Of course, I'd actually have to be paid first, but that's beside the point! Soon, I'll be as famous here as I am in the Crystal Empire, you just wait and see... hey, what's that whooshing soun...AARGH!!"
Unfortunately, in the midst of all his rabble-rousing, Spike-Wikey had instinctively been banging on the nozzle of his new favourite possession, and accidentally dislodged a pin that was kept there. You might not think that really mattered, but when further pressure was applied to the top of the device on account of more hearty bashing with the dragon's fist, it seemed to have a visible effect.
Namely: A loud WHOOSHING noise was heard to be suddenly coming from the depths of the item in question, which quickly revealed itself to be a foamy, frothy, bubbly concoction. It cascaded unhindered down the tube now, spurting out in great volume and intensity...
...And right into the mouth of one Spike, who still had his jaw a-flapping from the long 'inspiring' speech about his so-called promising future. It almost choked the poor little blighter, as the entire contents poured down his throat and ended up in his now heaving belly.
Unsure what to do or say upon witnessing this intriguing spectacle, none of the growing number of ponies who'd hung around to stare at the drake in earnest made any attempts to stop this odd episode from unfolding. After all, it sounded like whatever was happening to the dragon was destined to bring him great fame and fortune. He'd said all that himself, after all. Perhaps this was all just part of the plan. Best not to interfere, perhaps.
Eventually, just when it looked like the bloated reptile would explode due to the sheer amount of foul-tasting whitish liquid in his system, the constant stream finally came to an end, and he could finally stagger to his feet. The hefty dragon was now literally four times the size in girth that he had been that morning, and while it might be true that he hadn't learned to fly yet, he certainly felt he could float home if the notion seized him.
"W-What are you all gawking at?!" The scaly blimp scowled at the whispering crowd, as every hiccup drew a green bubble from the depths of his stomach. "I-I felt like a refreshing drink, anyway. Now, move aside. I have to get this doohickey to Twilight on the double, no triple! I don't feel so well..."
So with a wobbling gut, a nauseous constitution and a pronounced waddle, Spike parted the throngs of overseers to slink back home, hoping against hope that Twilight could inform him what the heck this now empty canister contained, why on Equestria did it make him so very sick...
...And to use the bathroom facilities, naturally.
........................................................................................................................................
Celestia sighed audibly as she gazed from her balcony with great sadness what now remained of her proud queendom past Canterlot. Nothing more than charred remains, scattered debris and a few crumbs of upside-down cake was left. It wasn't even one of her favourite cakes, which made the senseless tragedy of what had occurred even more difficult to accept.
The resurgent Changeling army had originated from the south first, just adjacent to Ponyville. That naive hippy Thorax was a fool to think that he'd manage to placate the endless appetite of all his citizens with lame portrait-painting and square-dancing, and a secretly plotting Chrysalis had spent the last few months convincing the numerous dissidents under his reign to usurp their new leader and take back control of their species, just like the good old days.
Now Thorax was dead, along with his dwindling merrie band of happy-clappy peace-loving beatniks. Her decision to make Pharynx her new lieutenant was a stroke of unbridled genius, as not only was his flare for battle legendary even amongst his own kin, she knew that his peaceful brother would never fight against his own flesh. That, and the illegitimate king was nothing more than a class A pansy.
The tepid white flags and peaceful negotiation tactics of Thorax's tree huggers were no match for Chysalis's brilliant battle strategy of 'kill everything you see', and now that the previous incumbent was back in charge of things, the next minor item on the agenda was to Take Over The World yet again. Although, she still had a pressing score to settle with a certain Ms Glimmer... oh well, might as well start there.
The hoards of once more blackened and holey monsters rampaged on Ponyville that beautiful summer's day, taking each equine young and old by complete surprise. Starved of love for so long and more fierce than ever, even Twilight's potent magic and the cheesy rainbow powers of her crew were no match for the hungered and vengeful Changeling pack.
After subjugating every colt, filly, mare, stallion and mule around, the despot Chrysalis then set an example of what was to follow by brutally slaughtering her arch nemesis Starlight Glimmer in a macabre fashion in front of everypony, which is way too graphic to describe here without having to resort to the ubiquitous 'M' rating.
Just kidding, but Chrysalis did tear off the screaming unicorn's horn to the horror of the assembled masses to display just what would happen if anypony was brave (or stupid) enough to oppose her. Some might even say that was a fate worst than death, actually. But I'm not here to decide that, you make your own mind up.
Needless to say, it had the desired effect, and soon Chrysalis and her troops had more than enough four-legged slave friends to do all their dirty work for them... as well as act as an eternal conduit for midnight snacks. YUMMY.
Quickly, Chrysalis's elite forces spread liked wildfire. Fillydelphia, Manehattan... even, bless my soul, Yakyakistan, soon fell to the unstoppable multitudes of the Queen's finest. The Crystal Empire put up the best defence, but even they eventually capitulated, with poor old Shining Armour out for the count and Flurry Heart coercively taken away from a distraught Cadence to be raised as the cackling Queen's own progeny and successor. The foal was still young: she'd soon adapt to the new ways.
Now, it had all come down to this. One final struggle to see who would rule this green and pleasant land forever: Light Or Darkness, Good Or Evil, Pony Or Changeling. The soldiers were ready, the ramparts were fully weaponised, all necessary arrangements for the upcoming battle had been made.
Nodding to Luna that she was ready to begin, Celestia couldn't help but wonder why Twilight hadn't sent her a letter via Spike upon seeing the Changeling threat when it had first emerged. She could have quite easily sent some of her soldiers down to protect Ponyville in a flash, as well as the other locations that were about to be invaded and subsequently conquered.
All of this could have easily been avoided... Celestia thought sadly, while carefully applying her war paint, if only I'd received advance notification. I wonder what could've happened, for the message not to get through? Oh well, too late to worry about that now... I have a bunch of bug-eyed freaks to utterly crucify. I can launch a detailed investigation afterwards. "Alright, everypony... charge!!"
And as the intense skirmish commenced, whichever side might win later, one couldn't help but ponder on the fact that Spike's little encounter with the fire extinguisher did change the course of history as regards the fate of ponykind, as he predicted...
...Just not exactly in the way he envisaged or wanted it.
Oh, Spike!!
Author's Note
The basic idea for the story was 'Spike finds a fire extinguisher', and everything else just escalated from there. 
It turned a bit darker than the initially humorous introduction would suggest... but heigh-ho, I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoyed reading it too. 
