Yes, This Did Physically Hurt To Write
It was possible to see the invader coming from quite some distance off. It was even easier to hear him, as whatever was inside the armor had decided to go with what he felt was the only suitable look for the protection which in his (soon-to-be-proven-wrong) opinion, he didn't really need: spikes. The armor was covered in them. Every surface which could host a pointy cone of metal did, which included the spikes themselves. The results approached the fractal and meant that for every step the invader took, several thousand rough surfaces rubbed against each other. The grating squeals tended to echo, and did so with a dramatic overlay of bass.
The invader totally understood how armor worked. It subtracted damage from the enemy's swings and when you had truly good armor, that subtraction meant there was no damage at all. At least, that was how it worked in videogames and when that was happening, the code handled the subtraction. That was the really tricky part, and it left armor free to just look cool. Cool meant spikes. Spikes, like the invader, had edge. The invader believed that a sufficient amount of edge was an effective substitute for a total lack of actual personality, which was rather similar to his belief that a sufficient amount of body spray effectively substituted for a total lack of showering: in both cases, the resulting lack of sexual contact had been blamed on everyone else.
The invader could be heard coming from quite some distance away. The radius of scent-based detection had already emptied out a small part of the capital.
He could very nearly see ponies arranged in a thin mostly-pastel line against the horizon. Their first line of defense. Their last line. They would simply be the first ones to make friends with him. The invader totally understood how friendship worked or rather, how he had decided it should work and he was always right. He had guaranteed that.
He hadn't missed a single detail. He'd purchased from a list and hadn't even had to work against the restrictions of a points-based build, which had always been rather unfair because the games wouldn't let him quit to a calculator function and let someone else do the math which cruelly refused to just let him have everything when he first opened the menu. He was the ultimate force. He was unstoppable. He was a physical god. He was also the sort of person who started far too many sentences with 'he' without understanding how doing so tended to lose the reader, and would have responded to just about any criticism by telling people that if they didn't like that he was about to conquer their world, they didn't have to live there.
He marched forward, and spikes shredded the rays of what would soon be his sun. It was getting rather low in the sky now, because the only thing more dramatic than attacking in what he felt was the absolute darkness of a moonless night and a rather forgiving stealth system was doing so at sunset. Admittedly, this had him marching towards ponies in a way which normally would put those rays directly into his eyes, but the face spikes were giving him excellent protection and at least two tiny pinholes to peer through.
The ponies waited as he squealed, grated, and stunk his way towards them. Several of the mares had their ears flat back against their heads. The invader, who had studied equine behavior for exactly as long as he'd studied everything else, decided it was some sort of bow. He did so because he was both too stupid to understand what a curtsy was and had never, in any facet of his current or previous life, been capable of recognizing when someone really just wanted him to leave.
"Stop," the large white mare said, and did so when he was about ten yards away.
He stopped. He felt that created drama.
The ponies who formed that thin line were looking at him. He couldn't be bothered to recognize any of them, especially since it didn't matter. In the end they would be whatever he said they were. They would do whatever he wished.
He was invincible.
"State your purpose in crossing our border," the dark blue softly ordered. "Now."
He wondered if it would be best to make friends with her first.
"eye haz cum two conqueer youz! Everywun wil dew whuteverz eye wints! fourever! becourse --" and here he took a deep breath, because drama had its requirements "-- nun off ewe cin stanz aglanst mi Azsome Ass Hear!"
The little purple one twisted her ears. Rotated them a few times.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Believe me, I've never been sorrier to say what I'm about to in all of my life, but -- could you repeat that last part?"
The invader's voice boomed across the landscape or rather, didn't. He didn't really understand what a booming voice meant, as personally finding out would have meant turning off the porn feed for five seconds. It was perhaps more fair to say that he found a way of whining at a volume and pitch which managed to unite every feeling towards him as a single impulse, and not the one he'd been waiting for.
"meye Awsome Ass Hear!"
Silence briefly thought about closing in, then made the rather more sensible decision and ran for its life.
"...right," the purple one finally went on. "Ignoring the fact that I'm pretty sure you just screwed up the first word in two different ways -- what exactly does that mean?"
"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" the cyan one smugly cut in. (He had no idea what 'cyan' was and if asked, would have thought it had something to do with cat people. Ones who possessed something which, so far, the equines were disappointingly lacking. He was starting to wonder if he should have done something with cats.) "His hearing is totally awesome! But --" and she raised a forehoof to partially block her mouth, something which hid none of the smirk "-- he can only hear out of his ass."
That pony snickered.
"Do you want to turn around?" she asked. "We wouldn't want you to miss any of this."
He stared at her, or what little was visible past the spikes.
"ewe dont wonderstandz!"
The purple one shook her ears again. Looked up and down the line.
"Did we bring any sheep?"
Everypony shook their heads.
The invader was starting to feel oddly... disrespected.
"ewe iz stoopid!" he decided, because anyone who didn't know exactly what he meant at all times couldn't be anything else. "eye haz alreedy beeten ewe! Nun off ewe cin staap mi dont evenz tri bcaus eye haz Awsome Ass Hear an nuthin kin staap mi noooooo mattr whatz ewe duz eye cant bee --"
A pink mare stepped forward from the line. A thin piece of arcing metal was gently clamped in her jaw, and the container attached below slowly swayed back and forth as she trotted up to him.
(The container hadn't been there a minute ago. He hadn't bothered to pay enough attention for noticing that. It wasn't as if describing things was important.)
The first to approach. Sure, she was a little overweight (something which his ideal not-reading material had taught him began with a waist which didn't allow you to spot the spine), but he could make friends with her...
She stopped, right in front of him or rather, right in front of the spikes, which put her out of arm's reach. Her head dipped, the container's base was pressed against the ground, and then her left forehoof tilted it forward, spilling out its contents.
"Use as many as you need," she politely said. "I can always get you some more." And then she turned and trotted away, with the curly pink tail majestically swaying. He would have watched that for a while, but something else had occupied his rather minimal attention span.
The invader stared down at the heap of commas and apostrophes.
"whut r thes stoopid thingz fir?"
The purple mare deeply sighed. It was the sort of sigh which generally emerged when the party involved realized nothing was ever going to get any better than this and under more normal circumstances, it was typically produced by the invader's smell.
"...right," she dismally repeated. "So anyway --"
"-- or maybe," the cyan mare interrupted, "he can know when a truly awesome ass is approaching, just on sound." Another smirk. "Hey, biped! How close did you get before you heard me? Two gallops out? Three?"
"Rainbow," the orange dryly said, "he's gonna have t' get a lot closer than that before he hears you. Ah reckon 'bout half a hoofwidth. Or maybe the thickness of a tail hair --"
Tone and volume both dropped into the basement, which was where the danger was kept. "Are you saying my ass isn't awesome?"
"Y'barely got one," the orange pointed out. "You're all sleek an' streamlined! Can't carry a spare ounce on you, an' that includes your ass, Rainbow, an ass which mostly exists due t', how should Ah put this, a technicality --"
"-- beauty contest," the cyan hissed. "Tomorrow. You and me, in front of the whole town --"
"...um," the soft yellow quietly said, and even the invader (whose perspective had been caught in the middle of some gluteal resorting) paused to listen. "...I'm sorry for cutting in, but I sort of... noticed something. Twilight, does it sound to you like he's having some... problems? With words?"
"iff ewe cant understaaands mi," the invader shouted, "its YOURE falt!"
"Yes," the purple one sighed. "Definitely."
The yellow nodded.
"...funny how we can hear it," she softly noted. "Why is that?"
Another sigh. "If he has typical biped anatomy under there, then I'm still trying to figure out how he gets out of that thing to urinate without impaling himself. The audio issues may be the least of our problems."
The invader was briefly confused. Armor was worn at all times unless you were having sex. No one in a game ever went to the bathroom.
...it didn't matter. He had something for that. He had something for everything.
"...well," the yellow continued, "I was thinking that maybe... it's Awesome Ass Heal. If anypony gets hurt, he can make them better. But it doesn't work unless he sits on the wound."
Why would anyone want to heal? Healing wasn't cool. Healing was what you screamed at uncool people about, especially if they were healing someone else. And what was the point of charging up invincibility which was only going to last for eight seconds? He was going to be invincible forever --
Dubiously, "With those spikes, Fluttershy? He'd just make things worse."
"...he could always take the armor off..."
"And what if it's a facial injury?" The purple now looked nauseous. "With that smell..."
"...oh," the yellow whispered. "It's a guaranteed infection. Right. Sorry..."
She took two steps back, blushing features rapidly vanishing behind her own mane.
"None of you have reached the clearly correct conclusion," the dark blue calmly stated. "I have determined his ability."
"Do tell, Luna," sighed the huge white mare. "Please."
Smugly, "In any situation where anypony has smelt it, he and he alone can determine exactly who dealt it."
The entire line was now staring at her.
"Simple logic," the dark blue smirked. "Now, returning to our earlier issue --"
"SHUTZ UPP!!!1!" the invader abruptly screamed, and spikes ground against each other as the mouth grill failed to move. "YOUR AL TAKIN TOOOO MUC! ITS MEYE STORIES!1!1!"
And in response to his scream, a scream which was supposed to shake the cosmos -- the dark blue silently stared at him.
They were all staring at him.
"Is it?" she darkly stated.
"Capitals," the purple exhaled with relief. "That was a capital at the start of a sentence, I'm sure of it..."
"Twilight Sparkle," the dark blue cautioned.
With a surge of mingled concern and offense, "But where did the numerals come from? Digits aren't meant to be punctuation!"
"eye haz Awsome Ass Hear!" shouted the invader, who didn't understand what was going on. This was supposed to be all about him! "eyem spezial! eye waz grate befour eye gots hears!"
A smaller white mare stepped slightly forward, one with a purple mane and penetrating blue gaze.
"Do tell," she requested, and the other ponies stared at her. She held her ground. "No, really. Do tell. I believe I have some sense of our -- visitor -- now. But before we act, we should gather somewhat more in the way of... details." Which was followed by a small head tilt to the right, accompanied by a flutter of eyelashes. "Do tell us about your early life. You will find us a captive audience."
And he hadn't even gotten to that part of making friends yet! He was winning!
Of course he was winning. He was invincible.
"eyem wretch."
She took a moment to work that out.
"Rich," she tried.
With some offense, "sayd dat."
"Ah. And how did you acquire your wealth?"
"Drooped outz off schul," the invader proudly declared. "An plazed duh sticks."
"Abandoned your formal education," the mare unnecessarily repeated, "in favor of gaining income through stock trading. Interesting. Is there anything else you feel we should know?"
"eye wunz duh irony mans trialthong." Proudly, "wurld recording!"
"Really!" the small white mare brightly said. "To manage such a spectacular feat at the mere age of --" another head tilt. "My apologies. How old were you?"
"sevuntenz."
The blue eyes blinked.
"And how old are you now?"
"suventonz."
She rather visibly thought about that.
"Yes," she finally said. "So you created your wealth and set your world record through believing that nopony would be aware that in your nation of origin, the minimum age for being legally permitted to both play the stock market and enter the Iron Man Triathlon is eighteen. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Fraud."
He was trying to stare at her with a rage which could set the heavens afire. The spikes were getting in the way.
"ewe cant knews dat!"
"Oh, really," was the dry response. "You show up dressed as a inbred hedgehog with the verbal capacity of concussed tree bark, and my knowing two basic facts which took rather less than a minute to research is the part you are somehow having trouble with?"
There was only one way to answer that.
"eye haz Awsome Ass Hear!" he screamed.
"Oh, sure," the purple muttered. "There's one word he can always get right, and it just so happens to be ass."
"Practice," decided the cyan with a shrug. "He's just good with the one he's used the most." And went right back to glaring at the orange mare. "So. Swimsuit's gonna be the first round --"
"-- we're ponies. What's the point of a post-dip shake when you're half-dry?" the orange protested. "Next, you'll be tellin' me y'want an evenin' gown round."
"Nah," the cyan dismissively stated. "We both shop at the same place."
"Your pardon."
"I mean it's a tie of awesome, Rarity! If we're just judging the gowns. The ass filling out the gowns, now that's a victory for me! But anyway, I was really thinking a talent portion." With what the cyan clearly thought was cleverness, "We can start with air stunts. Basic foal stuff --"
They were talking.
They were talking about themselves. Things they cared about and wanted to do. They weren't focused on him. They weren't believing everything he was saying. They were questioning him.
He had come here to stop being questioned. To make friends.
"SHUTZ UPP!"
"Boldface on speech generally excludes quotation marks," the purple wearily declared. "When was the last time you read a book?"
He ignored the part which had never applied to him. "eye haz Awsome Ass Hear! eye rent two ha conventional anz funds dah Merechant! eye payz fir stuf dat haz Kool Powerz! an den eye cums hear!"
The very large white mare slowly brought a huge forehoof up and pressed it against her right temple.
"You do realize that makes absolutely no sense?"
"Sister..." the dark blue tried.
"How many times have we heard this?" the huge mare groaned. "You'd think I'd get used to it. But it still makes absolutely no sense." And winced. "There's the headache. It's the headache again. The same headache I get every time..."
"It shall be over soon," the dark blue attempted comfort. "The ending always makes you feel better. Let us proceed towards it."
The white nodded. There was a significant number of years weighing down that nod, and none of them belonged to the invader. He had something less than seventeen real ones behind him, because he had only constructed his backstory as something to justify why he was special. Why he (and he had strongly felt this: he alone) deserved to have the Kool Powerz. Why he could make friends.
He held up his right fist. There was something which looked vaguely golden covering it, although only if you disregarded the low-res texture of his imagination and factored out the poor CGI. There were also a number of nearly-gleaming items embedded into it, and that number was six.
The smaller white mare immediately noticed them. A blue gaze of pure evaluation roamed across the gauntlet.
"Not even as a prank," she decided.
"dish iz ULTIMATS POWERZ!" the invader shouted.
"They are terminally flawed and unsuitable for anything other than powder," the bored mare declared. "You paid money for that? Of your own free will?"
He only knew one means of reply, and it was starting to make his jaw ache.
"BEEHOLD!" he screamed. "DUH POWERZ OFF MI INFINITEEEEE HEM!"
The gems flashed. And behind the line of ponies, in the city which he'd only just now noticed because descriptions still weren't important, there was the sound of a thousand mares screaming.
"Canterlot!" the dark blue gasped, already starting to turn back towards the structures. "We must --"
The smaller white mare raised a forehoof.
"That," she said, "is a rather familiar sound, Luna, and I am perhaps the only pony here who is capable of recognizing exactly what it means. It is the sound of a thousand well-dressed mares screaming as all of their social hopes for the evening turn into nothing more than dust, for their chosen outfits have just been hemmed."
Everypony thought about that.
"Hemmed," the dark blue slowly said.
"Infinitely." Which was followed by a thoughtful pause, and then "Or more likely by about a hoof-height. I would need to get a direct look in order to gauge the quality of the stitching, or more likely the lack thereof. Also, I am somewhat concerned about our visitor's range. Should that effect reach Manehattan..."
"Noted," the dark blue grimly said, and faced the invader again. "Is there anything else you can do?"
He didn't understand what was happening. He had paid for his Kool Powerz. He had been told he would get exactly what he had taken so much pain to describe...
"REALTY GYM!" he screamed, and something just slightly separated from plastic (and, oddly, much cheaper) did its best to flash in the rays of the setting sun.
Something happened. The huge white mare jumped back, just barely getting out of the way. He liked that. He'd just shown them he could attack.
"What?" the largest of the mares gasped. "What did he just --"
And then she saw it. The sign of his power. They all did.
The only one who wasn't a mare walked up to it, moving easily on his claws. (The invader hated that, because the dragon wasn't a mare. He had been promised mares to make friends with. Making friends with the dragon would be totally gay.)
The dragon leaned forward and looked at the Sign Of Power.
"For Sale," he read aloud. "One Planet. Cheap." And groaned. "Oh, I get it. He's using the realty gem. How cheap a joke is that?"
"What's that part at the bottom?" The larger of the white mares was squinting. "I can't quite make it out."
"You don't want to know," the dragon quickly insisted. "You don't."
"Spike..."
The dragon sighed. "Sun And Moon Slightly Defective. Previous Owners Failed To Maintain."
"...right," the suddenly-very-large-indeed white mare softly said as an aura of pure vengeance began to build around her horn. "About reaching that ending..."
The invader didn't know what 'realty' was. And that was after he'd gone to the convention --
"-- NUT FARE!" he screamed again. "EYE WUZ PRESSED AZ PONY SPARK!"
Somewhere behind him, hidden by the spikes which blocked just about every sight line, an awkward cough reluctantly entered the universe.
Everypony stared. The invader would have done the same, but Kool Powerz added to that many spikes didn't leave much for basic rotation.
"Um," the cough followed up. "I'm actually very sorry about this..."
"And you are?" the dark blue steadily inquired.
The stallion carefully trotted around the far-too-much edge of the armor. He was a pleasant blend of gold and red hues, with a truly amazing goatee. The goatee was so amazing as to look completely embarrassed about the whole thing all by itself.
"I'm pretty sure my name is Spark," the earth pony said. "Also that I'm apparently an electrical engineer. Do you have any of those?"
"We have ponies who engineer the creation of electricity," the dark blue dryly replied. "They tend to have wings. And why are you here?"
"I think," the earth pony sighed, "there were originally supposed to be a couple of Ts involved. So I just sort of -- appeared. When he did. And I've been following him because I didn't know where else to go." The goatee wrinkled. "The smell's actually much worse from the back. Anyway, since there seems to be more of you... more of me..." Pleading now, "Since there's ponies, and I think that's what I am...?"
The dark blue compassionately nodded.
"Take the street directly behind my tail," she said. "Three blocks, then turn left. Eight blocks more, and another left. The building will have the words Immigration Department embedded in the doors. Tell them that Princess Luna sent you. Welcome to Equestria, Mister Spark. It will be... interesting, having an earth pony working with lightning -- but perhaps that is an innovation from which we might benefit."
He managed a smile.
"How long does it take to process the paperwork?" the stallion asked.
"A few hours."
"Will the bars still be open?"
"Without a doubt."
"Which one can I find you in?"
The dark mare paused.
"Very interesting," she decided. "Good luck, Mister Spark. But your first night will not uncover anywhere near that much luck."
The stallion tossed off a can't-blame-a-pony-for-trying shrug, passed through a quickly-made gap in the line, and headed off to his destiny.
The invader didn't care. Things were going wrong. Nothing was supposed to go wrong ever again. But he had a way to fix that...
"eye taught off everythin!" he shouted, somewhere within the armor. "inn cash their wuz plentytin eye messed!"
He reached into his pocket. Or rather, he fumbled as finger spikes met hip spikes and rent whatever lay between. The result was that several tiny white objects fell into brown grass. (It had been green when he'd arrived, but he'd been standing there for a while.) One of them managed to stick on a point.
"meye PILLZ!"
He thrust the object towards his mouth grill. Stabbing occurred and after the screams died down, he washed the little thing down with blood.
Magic happened. Incredible magic. Magic nopony had ever seen before. Because he was invincible, and so he had known that in the middle of his listing every Kool Powerz ever for his purchasing, he might overlook something he'd need later. When it came to completely derailing any chance at true dramatic tension and whatever had falsely been meant as a plot, the truly invincible planned ahead. And so he had his Wish --
-- there were dark clouds overhead, and the cyan started to take off, heading straight up. (She had wings. He almost wondered how long that had been true for.)
There was a sound of thunder.
And then it happened.
"OW!"
"Rainbow, come down!" the purple yelped. "I can fit you under the shield if you just get low enough to be under the dome --"
"-- there's a fish in my mane!"
"...salmon," the yellow quietly said as three more landed at her forehooves. "Would somepony please save me some? I have carnivores. Salmon's really expensive."
"It's raining fish! Why is it raining --"
"-- fish pills," the dragon groaned. "Seriously?"
It was the dark blue's turn to sigh. "Sister? As your horn is already lit?"
The huge white mare nodded. Sunlight flared against the increasing darkness, leaving the ponies standing under a dome, completely protected from the storm of fish.
"...it could have been worse," the yellow decided as the purple began to nudge fish into a pile in front of her. "It could have been stonefish. And then we'd all have to be really careful about where we stepped."
"Congratulations," the dark blue stated, returning her attention to the invader. "You have made your impact upon our soil. Multiple impacts, some of which shed scales against the impacted parties, and all of which will have to be cleaned up. You have proven that you are capable of being -- annoying. And so I strongly recommend that if there is a single positive thing about your person, you should tell us. NOW."
He tried to think. Most of that concerned why this couldn't possibly be his fault, and that was a familiar path indeed. The rest was attempting actual creativity. However, this was reaching for something he'd never done before. He could assemble the remnants of a hundred games and movies into what he would forever insist had been original. But he couldn't imagine anything on his own, and so he quickly gave up.
As far as he was concerned, something positive only meant whatever was good for him. That was how friendship worked.
"eye canz alsew knew duh COUP SIZ off any1 jest bye lookings atat dem!"
The equines thought about that for a moment.
"Ah use mugs mahself," the orange one finally said. "'bout fourteen ounces, if that matters t' you."
"Oh, he's a bartender!" the cyan one snickered. "I get it now! He doesn't balance anything on his back! He just spikes it! He spikes the spiked drink with his spikes --"
"-- Rainbow, why are you bringing me into this?" the dragon softly protested. "What did I ever do to you?"
"TIDDIES!" the invader screamed.
The purple mare frowned. "This isn't that laundry pod thing again, is it? I hated that."
"I stopped burping bubbles after three weeks," declared the pink. "I wouldn't mind having them back."
"YOURE ALLZ SUPPOSITORY TWO HALF HYUGE TIDDIES!" And with that, the gauntlet was thrust towards the sky. "EYE ORDURE EWE TWO GETZ GYANT RESTS!"
The non-gems tried to flash.
"Oh," the very large white mare quickly said as her eyes went wide with delight over the change. "All right. I'm calling dibs. I am keeping all of this. Forever." Happily, "It'll be nice to have a properly-sized couch for once. I can scatter the rest around our embassies."
"TIDDIES!" the frustrated invader screamed. "EWE SHOULDZ AL BEE TAT LEASE AH D!"
Everypony looked confused.
"A what now?" the orange asked.
"D IZ HYUGE!" And then the invader thought it over. "eggcept fur F anz G. Does r beggar. Beggest."
The dark blue blinked.
"Is he talking about breasts?"
"I think so," the very large white mare decided.
"And he believes that G is the largest size there is?"
"Apparently."
The dark blue rolled her eyes. Sarcastically, "I assume he is unaware that we actually happen to know someone with virginal breast hypertrophy? Perhaps I should summon her to provide an education..."
The largest mare's tones quickly dropped. "Luna, that's a completely different continuity." Glancing at the other ponies, "One they don't know about. And this isn't the time. That particular mainline hasn't even caught up to the bed yet. And that's still ignoring the centaur..."
Indeed, the purple was frowning.
"It's rude to link," she said.
"Sorry, Twilight," the huge mare said. "It won't happen again."
"But she might perform her duty," the dark blue protested, tail lashing with annoyance. "Something I am currently seeing as a benefit."
"No," stated the eldest. (The dark blue openly sulked.) "Let me have this much. Please."
That huge mare was looking at the invader again. The energy dancing around her horn was growing brighter. There were sunspots in it, along with a number of solar flares.
"One last time," she said. "One last chance. Why are you here?"
And he knew what he had to say.
"Two mak fiendz."
The ponies collectively paused. Ran the translation.
"To make friends," the dragon carefully said.
"That's... nice to hear," the purple mare decided. "It really is. I think we just need one more detail."
The invader waited.
"What," the purple mare inquired, "do you think making friends means?"
And somewhere behind the spikes of the mouth grill, he smiled.
"eye duz whateverz eye wantz. ewe cant staap mi. eye rakes oveer everythinz. den ewe iz meye fiends."
They were staring at him.
"ewe dont haf ah choiys," the invader declared. "an wen were fiends, wee al haz zex! az muc az eye went!" And with open delight, "fourever."
They weren't stopping.
"You're..." the pink faltered. "You're... your limbs aren't -- and you're not -- and you smell..."
"He said," the smaller of the white mares slowly stated as the skin under her fur began to flush with green, "that he was seventeen. That he still is. Would anypony care to know what the age of --"
"Stop, Rarity," the purple asked. "Please. Let me say the next word. After all that, I think I need to say it."
The other mare nodded, took a small step back. The purple mustered her strength.
"And what do we get to say about this?" that mare (with horn and wings) asked, her ears twitching again. "Do we get to say anything? Is there a single moment where we give consent?"
There was only one answer for that.
"Wuts cumsent?" And before they could react, "its meye story. sew ewe half two dew wut eye sez. an dats fiendship." More quikcly, "beclaws eye half KOOL POWERS an dat meanz ewe half two luv mi. iff ewe dont, ewe shouldnt bee inn mi storee. an ewe cant staap mi!"
"Why not?"
The question had been soft. Almost casual. And had he been the least bit in tune with anything about the emotions of someone who wasn't himself, he would have started running right there.
Instead, he made his triumphant declaration.
"eye meat dah Merechant! eye pays fir stuf dat haz Kool Powerz! an eye toll hymn two mak mi VINCIBLE!"
The purple mare took a slow breath, and everypony waited.
"I think I know something about you now," she finally said. "For starters, I know you're too stupid to understand that 'invincible' has a root word. Or that said root word is the antonym of what you were actually looking for. I'm also completely sure that 'root word' and 'antonym' went right past you..."
"sew wuts ewe goneh dew?" shouted the invader, because he was someone who understood criticism to be something he was forever above, and so he could not stand to hear more of it.
He laughed. He made the spikes vibrate, because he was still sure that somehow, this would all work out for him. It was his story. It was just going to have a little more initial gore than he had originally planned.
He made his challenge and in doing so, he used 'he' for what was almost the last very boring time.
The dark blue solemnly nodded.
"I believe," she said, "that is our cue to proceed."
The ponies moved.
The container which had been carried by the pink mare was full again. In fact, it was overflowing. The ponies had done their best, but there had simply been too much to deal with, and so they were all giving the results some space.
"Well, that's it," the huge white pony sighed as the sun finally slipped below the horizon, with a white orb quickly rising to replace it. "Again."
"Maybe it'll stop soon?" the purple hopefully suggested. "It has to eventually, right?"
"Theoretically," the largest mare wearily said, "the universe has to end eventually. I suppose that might take this out."
Everypony's eyes briefly closed. Every head wearily shook.
"We've still got fish t' clean up," the orange noted. "Wanna get on that t'night?"
"If we must," the smaller white mare sighed. "Oh, the smell..."
"I suppose we should," the dark blue declared. Paused. "He said 'Merechant,' correct? As the responsible party?"
"...yes," the yellow softly said. "...and if it's not too much trouble, you can just send the first ten bale-weights of fish to the cottage..."
"'Merechant'," the dark blue thoughtfully repeated. "Remind me to have it killed. Shall we gather the fish?"
"And then we talk about the beauty contest," the cyan smugly declared.
"Which you're gonna lose," grinned the orange.
"Which I am not judging," the dragon valiantly insisted.
"What about that?" the purple asked, glancing towards the container. "What happens to that?"
"I am leaving that for the doctors," the dark blue stated. "I believe they will benefit from studying the contents."
The huge white mare nodded. "Agreed. It's an anatomical mystery. He shouldn't have even been alive."
"No longer a problem," the dark blue smiled as the group began to trot away.
The largest of the group shrugged.
"Well," she placidly said, "he did dare us to just try and put him in pail..."
And behind their retreating hoofsteps, the half-pulped anatomical mystery dripped their foul contents onto dead grass. The smell had, in a way, been accounted for. Nothing else had. There was only one explanation, and it was one which made no sense.
Somehow, every last organ had been just another segment of the large intestine, for there was no part of the invader's body which had not been completely full of shit.
