A Princess and Princess Show

Patrick flipped through his wallet, pushing out a few five dollar bills. “Alright, twenty.” He placed the money onto the artist’s table, then picked up the magnet. “Thanks, man. Are you new? Haven’t seen you online.”

“Yes, new,” the older gentleman laughed. “Only started a few months ago.”

Patrick laughed, holding out a fist, “Right on, Wizard.”

As Patrick turned to leave, the merchant stood up. “Sorry, but before you go, do you have any interest in--”

“Sorry no,” Patrick said, holding up his hands. “I’ve read enough Japanese comics to know what’s coming. Besides, I’m on a budget.”

“No, seriously,” Wizard said. “Its on me.”

Patrick blinked at him owlishly. “The heck?”

The merchant slapped Patrick’s twenty back onto the table. “I’ll even give your money back!”

“What are you even on man?” Patrick asked. “What is up with you?”

“Forty!”

Patrick dropped the magnet back onto the table. “... You know what, keep it. I’m pretty sure you need the money.”

The merchant’s eyes bulged, mouth gaping in astonishment. “I-- you-- the nerve!” He stood up, slamming his hands onto the table. “How dare you!”

A small crowd started to gather, leaving Patrick flailing his arms in wide eyed confusion. “Do you need a doctor?”

The vendor raised his hands, sparks coming off his fingers. “Skidaddle skadoodle, your dick is now a noodle!”

“Oh shi--” Patrick’s hands went shooting over his crotch. Then there was a pop, and nothing was left besides a bit of smoke. A shocked silence shot across the vendor hall, surrounded by gaping mouths and frozen muscles.

The moment was broken by a guy in a Berry Punch cosplay sliding into the crowd on his knees and slamming a fistful of dollars onto the table. “Take me.”

The vendor hall exploded in flying dollar bills.

Patrick woke up to a mouthful of grass, which he disgustedly spit out. He rolled onto his back, groaning. “Oh no, I’m in an isekai plot.” He stuck his hands over his face. “What is my life.”

He sat up and looked around. Where was he anyways? The trees still looked like trees, though the colors didn’t look right for some reason. He stuck his hand into a beam of sunlight and frowned as the shadow he casted shaded differently.

Patrick shook his head and started to walk before freezing at the sound of crunching wood. A timberwolf slunk out from the forest shadows, walking towards him. “Oh shit,” he blurted, then slapped his hands over his mouth, cursing his mouth.

He squeezed his eyes shut, holding still as hard as he could and tensing in anticipating.

Nothing happened.

He slowly opened his eyes, and saw the wolf walk through him. On closer inspection, Patrick found out that his entire body, clothes and all, was flickering, like someone moving an opacity filter. He hopped gently, and was surprised to see himself almost float.

What he saw suddenly caught up to him. “..This isn’t isekai. I’m in a fucking Displaced fic.” He ‘solidified’ and crashed into the grass. He winced, but the timberwolf kept walking away. It was as if he didn’t exist.

Oh well, might as well look for ponies. This was probably the Everfree, what else was he gonna do besides look at trees?

He tensed, pulling inwards, and grinned as he started fading again. He jumped, shooting through branches and way into the sky. He spun slowly, smiling when he saw the tips of a windmill. Then he almost sank through the ground before his shock caused whatever strange magic stuck on him ejected him back up.

He took a few minutes wincing and catching his breath before fading slightly to sprint through the trees.

It took almost an hour to reach Ponyville at a full sprint, but Patrick was surprised that he didn’t feel tired at all. Then again, he was kinda a ghost thing, and he couldn’t remember many ghosts that got tired.

And finally, he could see the thatch houses of the town. Sweet. He half hopped, and floated over into the town streets, bouncing through oblivious ponies. “Hmm. Where to go?” He bobbed in the middle of the street, tapping his chin. He didn’t exactly want to be here, but outside of moping or sinking into the planet, there wasn’t much else. Might as well try to find some enjoyment out of it.

He turned on his feet, moving towards Twilight’s castle, then paused. Did he even need food?

He spun again and wandered over to Sugarcube Corner.

Patrick stepped up to the front door and pushed it open reflexively. To his surprise, his hand seemed to briefly solidify enough to actually contact the door. He poked his head inside, glancing at the bell, and called out, “Sorry!”

Naturally, nobody responded. When Patrick looked at the counter though, he saw the pony at the counter, Carrot Cake, glance up at the door, then apparently dismissed the half-open door.

“Huh.” Patrick stepped up to the register, looking around. He found a plate, a quill, and a notepad. He scribbled: ‘When paper face up, place one muffin on plate, then flip over.’

He replaced the quill, then placed the plate on the side of the display case. A few minutes later, Carrot Cake saw the note, made a quiet humming noise, then grabbed a random muffin and placed it on the plate, with the note face down.

Patrick grabbed the muffin cautiously, and with no response from Carrot regarding the muffin that probably just disappeared to him, bit down into it with gusto. Patrick sat onto a table and grinned. “Sweet. Free food.”

He raised his head when he saw Pinkie Pie pronk out of a kitchen, a tray balanced perfectly on her back. “How the hell does that stick there?” he wondered. His eyes slowly slid behind her, at her bouncing tail. “Um.”

Strangely, his libido didn’t respond, despite clearly remembering his own Derpibooru browsing history. Patrick reached into his pants and--”Oh you have got to be shitting me,” --pulled out a noodle dildo. “Now what am I gonna do?”

He stared blankly off into the distance, slowly chewing. He probably didn’t even need food anymore, but it was a momentary distraction.

“Might as well play with toys or something.”