Keys. Phone. Wallet. Passport.

Luke gathered all four items, along with a hastily packed suitcase full of winter clothes. His flight was booked—six PM departure from Heathrow to Vienna.

The current task was a simple one—as long as he kept telling himself as much: repeat the fortunate blunder that led him to the Crystal Empire. If he got that far, the task would then change to dealing with the god-like immortal being that had managed not only to send him back to Earth, but back in fucking time as well.

Those first couple of weeks, in the royal castle? Luke would have thanked Discord for sending him home. He could’ve seen his family again, interacted with other people, not been a complete social outcast anymore. Now, though… Now, Luke just felt like he was dead. What the fuck was the point of living, when his true home felt like the one he had just left?

Every time he thought of Fleur… everything, all of it—just hurt. The notion that he might not see her smile again, might never hear her adorable accent, never again experience the strawberry scent of her mane—it made him want to crawl into a hole somewhere and just die. The thought of never again gazing into the endless depths of the siren's eyes, to witness the chaotic serenity within—it was just too much. The walls of his bedroom were full of holes. His fists were full of scabs and blood. The only thing that kept him from doing something really stupid, was the bastard’s words—let's see what she makes of Earth. She—the implication being that she was going to turn up.

It’s not like she hadn’t done it before. Fleur had a knack for finding him, even when he hadn’t told her where he was going to be. If she could teleport to the fucking moon, she could teleport to Earth.

In the event that didn’t pan out, though—Luke had a flight to catch.

Suitcase in one hand, car keys in the other, he took the elevator down to the ground floor of the apartment complex of his old life. That’s exactly what this was, ever since he met Fleur—his old life. There was no going back.

Yes, he could visit his family, his old drinking buddies, his old co-workers from the office, but did he want to do any of those things? How would such meetings even go? To them, a year had not passed. To them, Luke had not been anywhere. They knew nothing of the marvel that was Equador, or its ponies, its minotaurs, its literal fucking magic. They knew nothing of the mare he had fallen in love with. They’d call him a freak, a liar, or a mental case, or perhaps worse if they knew.

Fuck no.

Even if he wanted to stay here, doing so could potentially put the planet in danger. If Fleur could find him, so could the shard. What if it came looking for him first? If Memento Mori was to appear over London in all of the archaic and deadly glory of its true form… Luke gave a shudder. He hadn’t a clue what the artifact really looked like, but one thing was certain—Earth would be in serious trouble if it made an appearance. What if Discord was right? What if the shard caused Luke to become drunk on power, turning him into a crazed dictator the likes of which the world had never seen?

Fuck.

There was only one thing he could do now. He had to find Fleur.

Beep beep.

The boot lid of Luke’s car opened, and he was forcefully reminded of it turning Equity Rose into a stain on the carpet of one of the Crown Bank’s conference rooms. That shit hadn’t even happened at all, but Luna’s magic allowed him to remember the dream more vividly than any other he had ever had.

When he found his way back, he’d sit down with the Princess of the night and tell her all about the car, the internal combustion engine, all of its fancy electronics—literally anything she could possibly want to know.

Chucking the suitcase in the boot, Luke slammed the lid and hopped into the driver’s seat. With the push of a button, the engine roared to life.

To the airport.

Off we fuck.

The moon of Equador, after a brief vacancy of several years, once again played host to an immortal being.

Two of them, to be precise.

One, a draconequus, God of Chaos. The other, a siren, who may as well have been a Goddess of War, considering she had just hit the former with a colossal blast of magic so significant that several hundreds of acres of sand had been turned instantly into fiery shards of glass—glass that was stripped from the surface of a planetary body left ringing from the impact. The note was not at a frequency audible to pony or draconequus ears, but had that been the case, neither would have been able to hear it over the deafening, ethereal metallic whirring of a thousand glowing tridents born of deadly blue light, raining down mercilessly on the draconequus in a relentless barrage of heartbreak, hatred and spite.

Millions of metric tons of lunar rock and red hot glass were ejected miles and miles into space, much being liberated completely from the gravitational force attempting to draw it back down. Where Discord had previously stood, there was nothing but a dark crater several miles deep, and much larger in circumference than any other the moon of Equador had ever known.

Le faire souffrir!

Oh, we are just getting started, mon amie.

"Are you per’aps growing tired of existence, Discord?" Fleur’s magnified, crazed, demonic growl tore through the thin atmosphere. She self-levitated through the hail of deadly projectiles, mane and tail whipping wildly around her in a violent cloud of pink, eyes shining so bright they lit up a sizable portion of the scorched ground. "Is zat the real reason you sought an audience with me? You knew you could obtain the leverage to get me to make a serious attempt on your life?"

Discord emerged from the haze of flying debris, blackened and burned, but still grinning that overly smug grin of his. "Well, I suppose I could take another nap, but where would be the fun in that?"

The bastard clicked his claws, and a deafening roar that nearly ripped every strand of fur from Fleur’s form blasted from directly behind her. By the time she whirled around in the air, the Ursa Major’s jaws closed, and huge teeth as thick as tree trunks slammed together, narrowly missing her body. The disgusting stench of star-bear breath filled her world, a slick, hot bed of flesh encompassing her in a revolting massage. Fleur scrambled, but before she could even so much as charge her horn, Fleur found herself being swallowed by the beast.

Discord laughed through the transparent fleshy gullet she was sliding down. "Why, Fleur! I never knew you had a vore fetish! How salaciously scandalous for a Canterlot noblemare," came his muffled voice.

Like a ticking time bomb, the siren clawing at Fleur’s mind had had enough.

The tip of Fleur’s horn exploded. Violently.

So did the Ursa Major.

Most of its upper body was instantly vaporised. Tonnes upon tonnes of cosmic flesh scattered into the black, but a lot of the larger chunks rained down on the flaming glass covering the moon’s surface. The stench of burning meat filled the air, and Fleur wrinkled her muzzle in disgust. "Wherever you ‘ave sent ‘im—I shall find ‘im. You cannot keep ‘im from me!"

Discord conjured a carton of popcorn, flicking a few kernels into his mouth. He crunched and crunched and swallowed, smacking his lips with obnoxious volume. "Oh, I have no doubts about that, my moping little murdercorn. I merely want him to get to know the real you, before you inevitably snatch him back into your fishy fins and keep the poor man in the dark," he said, snapping his claw for a second time.

Fleur defiantly stared him down. "‘Ee does know the real me. ‘Ee knows me better zan anypony!"

Discord cackled, bits of half-chewed popcorn flying from his maw. The cruel, hateful sound made Fleur’s coat stand on end. "Anypony, you say? How about-" he pointed with his manticore paw "-that pony?"

Fleur scowled. She tried not to look, but she couldn’t help herself.

Non!

The still, lifeless form of her sweet Somnambula lay upon the jagged, flaming shards of the moon below. Both of her wings were broken, her feathers in disarray. Blood poured from her open eyes, like stale tears left for a thousand years.

Fleur's eyes went wide. It felt like somepony had just run a barbed spear through her chest, twisting and turning, cutting deeper and more painfully than anything had ever cut her before. The siren let out a wail, laboured by a grief so overwhelmingly heavy she felt like her heart was going to explode in her chest. Zis vision—it eez not real, mon amie! The grief quickly turned regardless, the pain in her heart fueling a white hot rage that far outstripped Fleur’s own.

Memento Mori! Occide! Occide! Occide!

Fleur drew a gasp so violently she ended up inhaling a cloud of the glass shards still present in the air. Thankfully, those words had not been spoken aloud.

Her darker half had not given up yet.

Discord’s grin widened, he opened his mouth, but Fleur screamed, her horn conjuring and launching a flaming trident straight through the back of his throat before he managed to utter another word.

The drive to Heathrow airport was odd, to say the least. For starters—the font on the road signs of the M25 had apparently been changed to comic sans in Luke’s absence. Which idiot at the Department for Transport had gone and approved that? Had they perhaps had a stroke? The road itself was unnaturally quiet for four PM on a Friday. Luke had spent half of his previous life stuck in traffic on London’s notoriously inadequate ring road, yet he was able to barrel along at one hundred and forty miles an hour for most of the way to the airport.

Speaking of which—the airport appeared to be riddled with inconsistencies and erroneous details as well. The parking meters were missing, the road layout was different. The people were smiling.

This was London. What the fuck did people have to smile about?

The old woman working the check desk, for instance, had given him a particularly creepy grin along with his boarding pass. Luke had almost dropped his phone at the sight of it. Now, he was sitting in the departure lounge, staring idly at the various aircraft through the wall of windows facing out onto the terminals.

Buzzt, buzzt.

Luke unlocked his phone with his thumbprint out of muscle memory. He blinked. It was weird to be doing that after so long. Well over a year, in fact. The best damn well over a year of his life. The notification was just some dumb promotion from the booking app. He swiped it away, but his eye caught a glimpse of the service bar. What the...

Where the service provider’s name—Vodafone—should have been, was a different word.

‘Vodapone.’

Luke stared at his phone, but no matter how many times he blinked, the word didn't change. "Huh…"

He selected apps. There were a few options. Facepone. Flutter. ClipClop. Fucking ClipClop? One—that just sounded filthy. Two—Luke was not gen-Z. An app such as ClipClop, shitty pun or not, had absolutely no business being on his phone.

There was one app, however, that appeared to lack any silly horse pun:

Discord.

It even had the bastard’s smiling face on it. Little fang sticking out of his mouth and everything.

"Bonjour, sexy monkey!" came a slightly muffled voice.

Luke idly glanced up from his phone, before involuntarily launching it halfway across the departure lounge when he yeeted himself out of his seat in a blind panic, falling over the back and landing in a crumpled heap.

There was a thirty foot tall, albino sea dragon with hooves grinning down at him from the other side of the glass. Fangs that must have been about four feet long protruded from its mouth. It had a white, scaly body, glowing cerulean eyes, a huge, gleaming, frosted sapphire embedded into its neck and a large pink fin running the length of its back, two smaller ones on either side of its face.

It was… pretty.

Pretty fucking terrifying.

A forked tongue, six feet long at the very least, shot out of its mouth and slapped against the departure lounge window with a loud clatter. "I could just eat you up," it purred through the glass.

Luke stared up at the creature, his mouth hanging open. "F-Fleur?"

The beast grinned a wide grin, wider in fact, than any grin Luke had ever seen before. "Wee, mon amore?"

Luke grimaced. The colour drained from his face, and his knuckles gripped the back of the seats so hard they were beginning to turn white as well. His heart beat like a drum in his chest. Why the fuck did he find this utterly terrifying creature attractive? Sure, it kinda looked like Fleur, but it was a fucking seahorse.

Wait… the fleeting memory of one particular poster hanging over the military style cot of one particular minotaur came back to him like a speeding bullet. “Holy shit…” Luke got to his feet, just about managing to force a grin.

"You’re a siren." He pointed at her. "You’re what a siren is supposed to look like."

The siren gave a wry smile. "Well, well, hyoo-man, colour me impressed. I must say—you caught on faster than I thought you would."

Luke kept up the act, feigning a feeling of content he didn't actually feel at all. "I know it's you, Discord. I hope you choke on a cock, you slithering cunt."

CRASH!

Without a lick of warning, the Discord-siren headbutted the glass, which promptly shattered, raining deadly shards down on the fake passengers waiting in the departure lounge. They finally seemed to notice the monster in their midst, as they all jumped up and ran screaming in a blind panic. Luke followed suit, at least with the running part. He wasn’t about to give Discord the satisfaction of knowing this little fucked up pseudo-Earth was getting to him.

The God of Chaos lay on a bed of flaming, blackened glass, his battered, flayed and burned draconequus form limp, covered from mismatched horns to cloven hoof in deep, trident-induced punctures. The seemingly endless well of regenerative magic usually at his disposal had run inself down to nought but a trickle, and his body, still defiantly clinging to life, was paying the price.

He groaned incohesively, much of the structure of his jaw having long since been smashed into pieces so utterly broken and disjointed that he no longer had the power of speech. It was quite the improvement, Fleur thought. Quite the improvement indeed.

"Eeewul end oossall..." the bastard managed to croak.

Fleur turned her muzzle away in disgust. Discord did not have the decency in him to just die. She knew it was a futile effort. It was impossible to rid existence of chaos, for without chaos, there could be no balancing of order. Though, she would be a liar if she claimed it was not satisfying to vent her ire at his expense. Her horn, so blisteringly hot it would have fried the brain of a lesser unicorn, tightened its telekinetic grip, the sobbing siren wailing in her mind.

She had no intentions of killing him, despite her darker half kicking and screaming at the inside of her mind for her to snuff out the life from his broken body. No. It was simply not possible. Chaos… Chaos was inevitable. It could not be destroyed.

The only way to beat Discord was to play him at his own game, but play it better.

Fleur’s hooves crunched through the burning glass until she towered over his broken form, staring down at him with eyes full of hatred. She thought very carefully about what she was going to say, for it could determine if her future was going to be one of blissful rapture, or endless despair. She needed to convince him. For Luke.

For Luc, her darker half echoed.

"If you dare interfere with my consort ever again, I promise you now, Discord—I will command Memento Mori to regress into the beacon of death it was in the days of the Old Kingdom," she lied.

That got his attention. Large yellow eyes regarded Fleur with just as much hatred. He gave a grunt, but half of his jaw was practically missing.

"If you dare to make an attempt on 'is life, or try and take 'im away from me, you will be guaranteeing zat history repeats itself, but I shall not stop zis time. I shall not stop until every last hoof of Equador 'as been burned to ash, and voided of life, and it will be your doing," she lied again, her eyes piercing into Discord’s soul.

The brows of Chaos furrowed. He made a sound, trying to speak, but it just emerged from his broken husk as unintelligible garbage.

Fleur pressed her fanged snout to his broken nose, blasting the siren’s gaze deep into his wavering yellow globes and praying to whatever higher power that may have been listening for him to take the bait. "I will leave only one pony alive. You know which one. Ask yourself, Discord—just what will she think of you when I explain to 'er why I burned the world and everything in it?"

Discord groaned, and for the first time in his endless life, the bastard’s eyes were wide, and he was all out of sarcasm.

Steeling herself, Fleur went in for the kill. "She will have 'er say to you, zen when she is done, I shall tear every last beautiful feather from 'er wings, and you will lie in your broken body… you will watch me snuff out her life, thus, making good on my promise to you."

Discord’s groans turned into wails of despair, and he shook his head despite his neck being broken in several places. Even the siren in Fleur’s mind backed away into the shadows, wanting no part in such a despicable act. Fleur fought to maintain her facade. She could not do what she claimed if she tried. That mare… that mare was just too precious.

"You 'ave the power to choose my conquest, Discord. If you take Luc from me, you know what will happen, and I shall spend the rest of eternity beguiling you with all of the gory details. But, if you choose to leave 'im be, zen I shall do everything in my power to keep Memento Mori from poisoning 'is mind. I shall train 'im to block out her influence, as I trained myself all zose years ago."

Stepping back, Fleur sat on her haunches, letting the siren magic fade away. Pink replaced blue, and with a wave of her horn, a shower of sparks rained upon Discord's broken body.

After several minutes, the god of Chaos slowly sat up. His fang was missing. Snapped off. His scales and skin were horrendously burned and scarred, but he could finally support his own weight, and his jaw was no longer hanging from his face.

"Make your choice, Chaos."

Discord closed his eyes, his grin long gone. "I choose her."

Fleur gave a solemn nod. "Zen leave. I don't ever want to see your face again."

POP.

Fleur let out a ragged breath, what felt like the weight of the world lifting from her shoulders. Her ears fell, eyes filling with tears almost instantly. In a single heartbeat, she and her siren both called upon l'eternal enchantment, and she teleported with an almighty boom that rattled Equador's moon for a second time in less than an hour.

Luke practically wrenched his car door open, flinging himself into the driver’s seat.

The pseudo-siren had become… unhinged, its eyes taking on a deep red glow that bore no resemblance to Fleur’s at all. That wasn’t just because of the colour, either. It had damn near smashed up half of the terminal building through the sheer effort of keeping pace with him, but its movements were sloppy, hindered, even. Twice, it had come close enough that its forked tongue had actually made contact with the back of Luke’s jacket, but it had withdrawn with a screech of pain on both occasions. Only when it had gotten itself stuck in a skybridge had Luke built up enough of a lead to make it back to his hastily abandoned Audi.

The engine growled to life, and Luke put pedal to the metal, his heart thundering in his chest. The beast was out of the building, having smashed straight through one of the revolving doors like it was made of toothpicks and aluminium foil, but it was no match in speed to the S5.

The car quickly left the flailing, screeching, disorientated faux-siren in the dust. Why the fuck Discord hadn’t just teleported, or even re-drew the world as he saw fit, was beyond Luke. He was practically a God, right? He had God-like powers, at least.

The road opened up a little, and Luke dropped a gear and put his foot down. There had to be a way out of this place, wherever the fuck it was. One thing was for certain—this was certainly not Earth.

A deafening screech blasted from directly behind the car, the rearview mirror suddenly filled with nothing but a ring of teeth surrounding a flicking, forked tongue. Fuck! The bastard had teleported.

The car accelerated, the engine screaming up to the redline with every shift. The Discord-siren dropped behind a little, but it was going a hell of a lot quicker than it had been in the airport.

Ninety. One-ten. One-thirty. One-fifty. Just as the car reached one hundred and sixty miles an hour, the trees, lampposts and other cars whizzing by in a haze of colour, a second sun lit up the sky. Luke was damn near blinded, but he just about glimpsed a streak of blue light descend and slam into the road ahead.

BOOM!

The shockwave finally caught up, so powerful it actually managed to slow the car considerably. “Fuck!” Luke yelled, stepping on the brake. The tires screeched, the car lurching violently.

“Oh shit.” Luke’s heart dropped. Fleur—unicorn Fleur, was standing in the road like a deer in the headlights. He had no time to swerve, and the car was still barrelling along at well over a hundred. Illusion or not, he did not want to have the experience of running down the love of his life. “GET OUT OF THE WAY!”

Fleur’s eyes grew to the size of dustbin lids, and she just barely managed to launch herself from the path of the speeding Audi, which screeched to a juddering halt a little ways down the road.

“Connard!” Fleur growled.

Luke craned his neck out of the window, his heart beating a mile a minute. He hadn’t a clue if this was just another one of Discord’s mind games or not. “I’m sorry, but you are standing in the middle of a motorway.”

“Not you, Luc. Discord!” Fleur hissed. She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were glued to something off in the distance.

“Discord?” Luke squinted, following her gaze. Oh…

The pseudo-siren was gaining on them. Fast. “What are you waiting for! Get in!”

Fleur galloped toward the car, skidding to a halt at the passenger side with a look of confusion. “What is zis machine? Can it buy us some time? I do not want to destabilise zis realm any further if I can avoid it.”

Luke leaned over, opening the door. “Yes, come on!” he said, hurriedly waving her in, glancing at the approaching beast in the rearview mirror. It gave another long, wailing screech as it snaked its way through the sky, this one a lot louder than the last.

Fleur scrambled awkwardly into the passenger seat. There was absolutely no place for her horn to go, so she ended up half-laying in Luke’s lap, the long, magical appendage sticking out of the driver’s side window. “I need to focus. Interdimensional teleportation was never a strong suit of mine,” she muttered, her cheeks reddening. One of her ears flicked against Luke’s chin.

Luke snaked an arm over her back to the gear stick, selecting first. The car lurched, screaming into motion with a growl almost as loud as the monstrous sea horse chasing it. Fleur’s face was all but pressed into his chest. He snaked his other arm around her front, holding her close. “Holy shit, I fucking missed you.”

Fleur blushed again, though this one was a lot more pronounced. “L-Luc, I ‘ave a lot of explaining to do-”

“You can explain all you want when you get us back to Equador. Please, just get us the fuck out of here—I am so done with this place,” Luke muttered, the car’s engine screaming through the gears.

Fleur nodded, closing her eyes. Her muzzle scrunched adorably. "Twilight Sparkle mentioned the spell to me at the Gala a few years ago. I am 'aving trouble remembering the details."

"You got here in one piece, didn't you? Just do the same thing in reverse? But for the love of God, take me with you," Luke said, yanking the wheel to swerve around an articulated lorry.

The truck blasted its horn, and Luke felt Fleur jump slightly in his lap. "I 'ad help getting 'ere. L'eternel enchantment guided me to you. Getting back is going to be a little trickier," she said, squinting through still-closed eyes at things Luke couldn’t see. "Zere!" She cried. "Take zat road, over zere, zen head North!" She pointed a hoof to an exit ramp that led to the M23.

Luke grimaced, recognising the exit. "Ehh, are you sure? Rolling through Croydon in an S5 is pretty much asking to be stabbed and carjacked."

Fleur didn't appear to be listening, however. "Wait. The height, it is all wrong. 'Ere, let me-" she scrunched her muzzle again, her horn lighting up in its pink aura.

CRACK.

The road disappeared. Everything else disappeared as well, bar the sky, which the car was now plummeting through. Luke felt his heart leap to the back of his throat. The ground was thousands of feet below them. "Fleur! This is a car, not a plane! It can't fucking fly!"

Fleur blinked. "It cannot?"

"No!"

She closed her eyes again. "No matter, I almost have it… Oui," she muttered, her forehooves fumbling over the steering wheel. She twisted, withdrawing her horn from the howling open window and pointing it through the windshield at the rapidly approaching field below. "I will just need to account for the height directly, and adjust the angle… hmm. Luc, straighten zis wheel," she added, her eyes still closed.

"What?"

"Just do eet, mon amour."

Luke flicked the wheel straight, just as Fleur shot a torrent of magic at the field below that melted a hole cleanly through the windshield.

A bright orange splodge spread over the field like a flaming pit of lava. It wasn't until around the last one hundred, thoroughly terrifying feet or so that Luke realised he could see blue sky through it, along with a hauntingly familiar skyline.

"No fucking way!"

The car crossed the threshold, its tyres slamming into the anti-slip enchanted marble street leading up to Fleur's estate. Luke's right foot fumbled for the brake pedal. There was no tyre screech at all, only rapid deceleration that would have made him headbutt the half-melted windshield if he hadn’t been wearing his seat belt.

Fleur looked as though she had been expecting such a scenario, as she steadied herself with the aid of her magic.

The audi lurched to a violent stop just shy of a small gathering of nobles standing outside the gate of one of Fleur’s neighbours. It's engine growled menacingly. Nearly all of them cried out in fright at the sight and sound of the car. One of them was wearing a top hat, which promptly fell off his rather pompous-looking mane do.

Fleur collapsed back onto Luke's lap, panting as though she'd just run several laps around the city. "Welcome 'ome, Luc," she beamed, rubbing her soft, warm cheek against his jaw.

“Fuck… It’s good to be back in Canterlot,” Luke gasped, both hands tightly gripping the wheel. Of his car. Which was sitting smack bang in the middle of the Equinox district.

“Wait… Why is the car still here?”

Fleur seemed to notice the very same thing, her eyebrows raising.

“What is the meaning of this?” cried an imperious voice.

Luke blinked. The stallion had now retrieved his fallen top hat. His name… was Top Hat. Top Hat Tootington the Third, to be precise. “You just nearly killed us with this… this machine! What in Celestia’s Equestria is this infernal alien contraption? You, alien wretch—I see you in there! You think you can just galavant around the Equinox district in an alien carriage?”

Fleur growled, death-eyes glowing. She scrambled out of the open window before Luke had a chance to tighten his hold on her. “Fleur, no!” Luke kicked the car door open, hauling himself out after her and catching her, dropping to his knees and hugging her to his chest. “Let me deal with him,” he whispered in her ear.

The blue slowly receded from her eyes, and she nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Luke got to his feet, smoothing the creases from his jacket. Top Hat continued his tirade.

“What even is this machine? Why is it so loud? Are you even listening to me, creature?”

Luke ignored the stallion, instead popping the car’s boot open and lifting the carpet. He grabbed a certain red cylinder, grinning widely and pulling the safety pin like he was priming a foamy grenade.

“Do you even have the intellect to understand just why you should keep your alien self and your alien machine out of the Equin-”

Luke pointed the hose, pulling the trigger.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!

Author's Note

You: A car? In Equestria? Are you for real?

Biker: I know, I know. Just chill, okay? Can't be any more ridiculous than the last chapter, right?

You: You need to give your head a wobble!

Biker: Okay, fine. I'll nerf the damn car. First thing next chapter. I promise. It'll be some bullshit where it disappears or something, like those fake galleons from the Quidditch World Cup.

You: You'd better. We want fluff, not convoluted bullshit.

Biker: Just calm your crotchtits, 'aight? I said I'll nerf it, so I'll nerf it. There's plenty of romance and fluff incoming. You got nothin' to worry about. Trust me...

You: Why'd you even put it in, then?

Biker: Because I'm Bear, and Bear always puts it in.

You: That doesn't make any sense.

Discord: What fun is there in making sense?

You: You’re weird. You know that?

Biker: