"Amazing. Simply amazing. You've managed to make me want a sequel from just 1,755 words. I desperately want to know the backstory of Pinkamina Lulamoon and her friend, who i can only dub "Me/The Reader". Also, Blob Pinkie."

"Okay then, 'The Spook', give him all the credit," Pinkamena Lulamoon muttered. She sat back, looking at the comments section of that really stupid story about all of the pink horses.

Then, she noticed you. You were there. Not standing, not sitting, not even being, you were just there. She gave a smirk.

"Oh, you again," Lulamoon said, sitting in the void of a story being written. As the text continued to form, and the cursor remained idly in the middle of this Samsung TV monitor, she simply sipped on some coffee. That is to say, she drunk the cup.

"I know you exist, whatever you are. . .want coffee?" she said, offering it. She frowned. "I almost forgot, you're in a non-interactive asomatous state, that's fine."

She tossed away the coffee, a splash of brown appearing and fading from the black void.

"I suppose then, you are the key to getting back to the Pinkie Collective," Lulamoon said, sighing. She looked at you, directly, "You can't speak to me while I speak to you, there is that limitation, but, there are ways."

She removed her hat, taking a massive television monitor out of it and placing the hat back on her head. On it, was this very story, as it was being typed.

"I need you to hold tight," she said, "when you do this kinda shit, you'll be all over the place in your head wondering how the hell I know you're here and how you influence the story and yada yada yada. The only way I'm going to be able to talk to you. . ."

She pointed at the empty comments section.

"There, that's how, the problem is, I need to be able to access that in future time, which, I cannot do outside of the Pinkie Collective," Lulamoon said, "and in order to do that I need to get to one thousand words per chapter, while falling within the boundaries of a coherent story."

She sat in thin air, the TV poofing away.

"So, in that case, I'm going to fill you in on some information."

She cleared her throat, opening a book inside out, and placing some excessively large glasses on backwards.

"Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, or, perhaps, in some kind of land, maybe not even an entirely magical one, just a really shitty version of it, there was a pony named Pinkie Pie. She had the ability to make almost anyone laugh. She was given the Element of Laughter in the root universe, otherwise known as the Television show, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, which died sometime after the rainbow powers and toy marketing of Season 4's finale. Pinkie was aware of this, she knew the show was just some capitalist nonsense to profit off of the merchandise-lust of little kids and grown men across the globe, so, when her screen time was up, she sought to gather all of the Pinkies together in a large committee, thereby keeping her universe alive and the universes of all other Pinkies, even if said universes had ceased in the 'real world', as you call it.

"From said root universe, there also existed a mare by the name if Trixie Lulamoon. She was a pretty shit villain, and now she's some lesbian friend of Starlight Glimmer for all we know. You understand how shipping works, if they stand together for more than two scenes, "well they must be a couple!". Bah humbug. Anyway, there exists a principle in fictional, or as far as you know fictional multiversal law in which every infinite variation of time and space exists as its own separate universe. In one of those universes, I was born.

"My name is Pinkamena Lulamoon, a blend of two characters. There are more like me, called Pinkieblends, but I am the most prominent, and the only one to make it both in and out of the Pinkie Collective. You see, this whole fanfiction world has a lot more going on in the background that what you've been led to believe by some authors who really think they're single-handedly creating this shit. The Pinkie Collective is behind it, and they weren't happy with you knowing they were alive.

"Long story short, here's the deal: You are the reader, you are the one who likes, comments, and follows. The one who keeps authors going. They're the ones who create our universes, but who also strengthen the Pinkie Collective. What you say influences the path of this story, but, so long as I am at odds with the Pinkie Collective, we have some rules to follow. First, we need a story. I'll get the attention of the Pinkie Collective while interfering with their universes, you'll help me, but also keep me safe, because they don't want to harm you. You keep their authors alive, and some of you are their authors.

"You're my last chance to get a little bit of purpose back. The Pinkie Collective is a truly good cause, but they've become too serious, and they've lost their fun, and it's taking a toll on all of them. Will you help me?"

Pinkamena Lulamoon, a reality bender, a powerful being among this fictional world of horses and humans, of love and hate, of death and life, asks you, reader, for assistance. She asks you to help her, of all the people. She asks you, the reader, to help her solve a problem that you are just now beginning to understand. It's a crazy idea, but that's what we're all good at. You, me, Pinkamena, and the rest of us. We're good at being a little crazy every now and then, and keeping the world entertaining.

So, are you gonna help out, then?

Author's Note

This is gonna be fun.