Humans (who shouldn't be) In Equestria

Chapter 3: A Game of References

In the dim light of the forest everything seemed fine, peaceful, and even somewhat cheery. In the thick of trees and bushes a lone parasprite decided to land on a nearby leaf for an afternoon nap. Just as it was about to drift off into dreamland, it was startled by the rush of something, no, two things running by, a short distance from where it laid. It decided to ignore the commotion, deciding a good rest was more important than worrying, and tried to sleep again. But they came back, running in the opposite direction and much closer to the sleepy insect, who was blown off its perch by the current.

“GET BACK HERE WITH THOSE STOLEN GOODS!”

Brennan was rushing through the woods as fast as his two feet could carry him, otherwise he would have to risk dealing with the bullet-train behind.

“Uh.... NO!” Because all of his concentration was on running and not tripping on anything he didn’t have the time to think of a clever insult.

Brennan had no idea how long he had been running for. Running for your life at speeds you didn’t even know you could possibly achieve from a physical tank in an alternate universe kinda messes with your perception of time. One thing he did know was that he probably shouldn’t have taken the “Meet the Scout” approach with his first direct encounter. That was then, and this is now, now he had to deal with the consequences. But god damn his legs were starting to hurt. He needed a reason to stop, even if it was for a brief moment, so his legs wouldn’t explode.

Just then, conveniently, age and the beatings from many a storm had finally caught up to a nearby tree, and Brennan spied it from a short distance ahead of him. It was leaning toward the path he was whipping down and its roots were exposed, as if the tree was clinging for dear life. Brennan had an idea. He grabbed an apple from a low-hanging branch on another tree then chucked it back. The mare only had a split-second to look surprised before the apple smacked her between the eyes.

“AGH!” she opened her eyes. “You’ll pay for that yoooooOOOAAAAUGH!”

THUD

As Brennan had hoped, the horse had charged blindly as she recovered from that minor bruise, then slammed into the tree full force. The tree tipped over.

“Please,” Brennan said, “put it on my BILL!” Brennan leaped out of the tree’s radius as it came crashing down. Applejack, for the nonce, was trapped behind it. Brennan jumped up into the air, pumping his fist for effect. “YES!” Then he noticed the mare climbing over the trunk, only more enraged by this attempt at incapacitation. “...FUCK!”

"Nice mouth," Applejack countered.

Brennan turned and bolted through the trees yet again, and the chase continued.

But for now we will be seeing other scenarios unfold as the chase between the farmer and the thief drags on. I know, it was getting pretty interesting, but I’m being ordered to tell you about other things now so just shut up and read on. God, we really need to find a better way to transition between these scenes...

Oh damn, now I’ve lost my train of thought. Just... let’s just get on with this.

Back at Fluttershy’s cottage, the frightened mare remained hiding under the blankets, totally invisible while she shook. A while ago Angel tried to persuade her to leave the fabric tomb, but to no avail. It was unknown how much time had passed since the creature made its exit from the forest; it could be anywhere from minutes to hours, but time felt like it was moving at a snail’s pace.

Fluttershy was jolted back to reality when she heard the familiar sound of somepony knocking at her door, and they sounded impatient. She slowly began to leave the safety of the laundry and made her way to the door. She stopped to think for a moment, and let her fear take over again. What if it returned? What if it’s something worse? She gulped and looked through the peephole, bracing herself for whatever was on the other side. Instead of the horrors that rushed into her minds when her imagination opened the floodgates, she was met with the relieving sight of a cyan pegasus. She quickly unlocked and opened the door for her friend.

“Oh, hello Rainbow Dash, what brings you here?” Fluttershy tried her best to give her an assuring smile and mask her worry which, as you can probably guess, didn't work.

Rainbow gave her friend an annoyed and confused (but mostly annoyed) look and replied. “We had plans today, remember? I was supposed to meet you at Sugarcube Corner fifteen minutes ago!”

Fluttershy, remembering instantly about their scheduled meeting, shrunk in regret for forgetting. “Oh, I-I’m sorry, I was caught up with a little...” Now remembering the encounter from earlier she cringed, yet managed to squeak “problem.”

Her friend’s impatience and annoyance quickly gave way to concern. “Problem? What kind of problem?”

“I-I don’t think...”

“Come on Fluttershy,” Rainbow put a reassuring hoof on the timid pegasus's shoulder, “you can trust me.”

“Well...” Fluttershy took a quick peek around Dash to see if anypony, or anything, was around. When she saw the coast was clear she motioned for her friend to come inside and closed the door behind them in a hurry.

Now while they discuss the troubles Fluttershy encountered let’s take a look back at the troubles our unlikely protagonist has getting himself into.

Instead of running through the woods at top speed being chased by the orange farmer Brennan was instead being dragged back, tied by his ankles by a rope, and he was not happy about it.

“So, this is how you treat guys on a first date? Kinky, but how’s about letting me go now, huh?”

“Not a chance. I ain’t lettin’ ya go that easily, ‘specially since it was such a pain to get you to slow down for a second.”

Brennan replied by rolling his eyes and grumbling.

“Y’know, when we get back yer gonna have a lot of questions to answer, like why’re you tryin’ to steal my apples for? And what are you?”

“Oh no, you're found my weakness,” Brennan cried in mock fear. “Questions! It’s like school all over again!” He then curled up in a fetal position. “The horror..."

“Yer not makin’ this easier fer yerself.”

“And your heavy accent isn’t making me take you more seriously.”

“You’re really startin’ to get on my nerves!” Applejack stopped the ride, turned around, and glared at her passenger. “If you don’t cut the act I’ll-"

“You’ll be forced to be more irritating?” Brennan put his hands behind his head. “I don’t think you can do that!”

“Alright, that’s it.” Applejack got in his personal space. “Who, or what, are you and why're you bent on making my day miserable?”

Brennan stopped to a moment, staring at his captor but deep in thought. Finally, he spoke up. “Okay. I didn’t want to tell you this but....” he shifted his body a little making it possible for him to sit up. He then continued “I am a creature from another dimension, and I’m armed to the teeth with hidden weaponry and clever thinking. I have friends back home, and they won’t be happy to know you’ve captured one of their agents. Even though I was sent here by unknown forces, and I don’t know how to get back, they’ll certainly know how to get here, and probably will. So you had better let me go, because I’m going to need food for the return trip, and believe me, you’ll be sorry if you imprison me.”

“I...” The farmer turned back to the road she was initially headed down.. “Oh gosh, what am I going to do? This is-“ she was interrupted when she felt something hit her in the head, and it felt like her own rope! She looked back only to find Brennan free from her rope bindings and on his feet.

“Ha! Mixed truth and lies to fuck with you!” The thief had not only broken free, but had swiped the apples, too. He turned and bolted into the trees, leaping onto a low-lying branch. “And don’t think I’ll let that happen twice, sugarcube. Because I won’t!” And with that, he took off yet again.

If the farmer pony wasn’t pissed before, she certainly was now. If Brennan wasn’t imagining things, she seemed to be getting faster by the minute, getting closer every step he got farther away. But there was hope. Brennan saw a fence up ahead, tall enough that Applejack couldn’t climb over. But he didn’t have time to climb the fence, either. There had to be a way out of this. There always is, he thought. So, Brennan took a deep breath, hoped against all odds that this worked, and leapt toward the fence. Momentum wasn’t just carrying him; it was flat out on his side. He seemed to twist and vault through the air, like gravity and physics just stopped existing. And before he knew it, he was on the ground- on his feet. 'How the hell did I do that!?' he thought, standing there in shock for a good few seconds before Applejack’s enraged yelling snapped him back to reality.

“You give those apples BACK! This is yer last chance! If I ever see you stealing from my farm again-!”

“Waaaaah! Waaaaaah!  Does Applejack want her goddamn bottle?” Brennan taunted.

"SHUT UP!"

Brennan grinned, eying his hard-earned prize, then took a big, purposefully loud bite. “See ya soon now, y’hear?” Brennan said, then bolted into the nearby foliage. He ran for a few minutes, then stopped. After looking to see if anyone was around, he slowly turned his gaze upon his booty; he had stolen 17 apples in all, wrapped in a burlap bag. Brennan sat in the shade of a nearby tree. 'Victory is going to taste SO good.'

About fifteen minutes later, Brennan had eaten all but three of the red fruit, and he was just about sick of apples. ‘Well, victory tastes good for a while, I guess,’ he thought. “Dammit, I’m still hungry,” he finally said aloud, “and not for apples! I need something else. Meat? Unlikely. Vegetables? Eww. Wait, isn’t there something about a sweet shop back in that pastel-coloured armpit? Yeah!” Brennan got up and began to power-walk back towards the town, but paused a few paces down the path. “Hold on, dude. In order to obtain victory, I’d have to infiltrate the town without being seen, EVER. Not the easiest of tasks. I’d have to make sure everyone there is on break or something, or I’d, needless to say, get caught. And if they’re not, I’d have to wait, or go through the store’s owners to get to the food. Waiting, mind you, in the middle of enemy territory, way behind the enemy lines.”

Brennan thought for a moment. The way he saw it, he had a grand total of three valid entry points; the sewers (not desirable), the streets (deathwish city) or the rooftops. And if he was under cover of night or dusk, after the shops had closed, it would be Payday: the heist all over again. Brennan decided the rooftops were the place to go, and began to make his way towards the town.

By the time Brennan had gotten back to Ponyville, and had made a good bit of distance into the area, the sun was setting. He had perched himself onto a relatively high building in order to get a decent vantage point. The kaleidoscope of horses in assorted colours below, luckily, had not noticed him yet. ‘You’d think a species that gets routinely attacked by who-knows-what would be more observant.’ He looked around, making sure to keep low to stay as unnoticeable as possible, trying to spot out his eventual raiding target. After a few moments he found it!

...Only it was all the way on the other side of the town.

“Great. Just freaking perfect!” Brennan mumbled to himself. Now he had to plot a way to get there unnoticed. ‘This is going to be difficult.’

A few minutes passed, and Brennan found no way of getting there without getting caught. But opportunity struck, and Brennan soon spotted a horse-drawn cart, filled with hay. “Oh, hey,” Brennan whispered to himself, “if that’s what I think it is....maybe....maybe I could use whatever that agility burst was from earlier...” Brennan smiled. Then he stood up just as the cart passed below. “If this works...” Brennan spread his arms. “Alright, synchronize....and leap of faith.” And with that, Brennan jumped off the building and swan-dove right into the cart.

FUMP.

“What was that?” he heard from who he can only guess was one of the two pulling the cart.

“It was nothing, Caramel, now let’s get going,” he heard another voice reply. With that the voices stopped, even if it was just for the moment, and he felt the cart moving from underneath him.

‘Amazing!’ Brennan thought. ‘Just a few hours here, and I’ve gone from a lanky, unathletic teen into the goddamn Prince of Persia!’

Now that Brennan was in the cart all he had to do was wait...

“Did this cart suddenly get heavier?”

“You’re just imagining things, now let’s get a move on. I want to take care of this as soon as possible, there’s supposed to be a new episode of my show on tonight.”

And put up with these morons. This was going to be a long ride.

After a time, just when Brennan was wondering how he could use the hay to strangle his two drivers, he heard one of them to speak up, and decided to listen in, but only because it was the only thing to listen to.

“Wait, why are we dragging this thing around anyways?” Idiot #2 spoke up. Because a name wasn’t mentioned for him he decided to call him “Idiot #2” for now.

Idiot #1, or “Caramel” as he was called earlier, replied. “Because, Blues, Applejack-“

“Oh, right,” “Blues” interjected. “You do know she’s not interested, right?”

“She is interested!” Caramel insisted. “I can tell. And soon, I’ll get the courage to ask her out!”

Brennan almost blew his cover all over the back of the cart.

“No, she isn’t. I can tell, you are just blinded by your obsessive attraction,” Blues retorted. “Plus everypony in the town thinks you’re gay!”

“WHAT?!”

Again, Brennan could barely contain his laughter. This was so funny it almost hurt.

“Hell, for a while I thought so too!”

“W-What? You too??”

He couldn’t help himself, this was just too good! Even if he couldn’t keep it in, those two morons probably wouldn’t hear him nor care about him with their own fighting going on.

“-you even look the part, Mister Pretty-boy!"

“I-”

“Plus, remember the party?”

“Hey, I told you not to bring that up! I was drunk and you know it!”

“I thought you said you never drink?”

“Well… Well I did then! Plus, Lucky talked me into it!”

“You’re not exactly helping your argument here.”

Okay, Brennan needed to leave now or risk his lungs exploding from laughter. He quietly crawled out of the hay pile and off the stupidity wagon, only to notice he was already at his destination! ‘Perfect!’

After quickly checking to make sure nobody, or rather nopony, noticed him, which surprisingly none did, he ran towards the back of the building so he wouldn’t be spotted as easily. As luck would have it, the store had a back door, but when Brennan tried to open it, it was locked. Figures. Brennan dug through his pocket. Apparently, the only thing he had to his name was a paper clip and a tooth pick. But dammit, that was enough. Brennan jammed the two things into the lock, fiddled with it a moment, and gave up a minute later when the tooth pick snapped. Brennan, not exactly the quitting type and more of the stubborn type, glanced around for another way in. All Brennan could possibly see, however, was a brick which must have come loose some time ago. ‘Well, might as well make do…’ He thought, and he took the stone in hand and threw it full force through a nearby window. Brennan quickly crawled through the shattered window and into the shop.

The place was homely, sort of, and smelled really, really good. There were a few standing shelves, and some bags of flour set against the wall. But, unfortunately, Brennan was not alone.

“Eh? Who’s there!? Bloody vandals!” A voice called out. Luckily, he hadn’t seen Brennan yet, and he had enough time to sneak behind a flour sack. As he drew closer, time slowed down for Brennan.

Head cocked to left, partial deafness in ear; first point of attack. Two: throat; paralyze vocal chords, stop scream. Three; floating rib to the liver. Four; Finally, drag in front left leg, fist to patella. Summary prognosis; unconscious in ninety seconds, martial efficacy quarter of an hour at best. Full faculty recovery; Unlikely.

‘Should it be that difficult to take down one guy?’ Brennan thought it over. ‘Nah.’

Instead, Brennan waited until he was passing by, and when he was standing with his back to him, Brennan got up and smashed the brick into the back of his head. Brennan caught the guy as he fell, then gently set him down and checked his pulse. As much as he had wanted to slaughter these horses, the last thing he wanted—For now at least—was blood on his hands. But the guy was alive and breathing, which was good. There was still something that was poking him at the back of the head, though. There was something about this one that was… different from the others. After taking a few steps back he could tell why.

He didn’t have the same build as most of the other stallions he saw, instead he was taller and more lanky. He even had some noticeable longer hairs on his muzzle, which itself looked different, making it look like someone who hadn’t shaved recently. He could deduce from this that he was a character of significance instead of just another background character. Of course he worked at the same store as one of the main characters which would mean he would be more or less significant, but he expected the residents of this world to look more like the army of clones he originally imagined.

‘No matter’, Brennan thought. He had come here to do the one thing he was good at; steal shit. And that was what he was going to do. Brennan immediately snuck over to the shelves and began to shovel muffins, candies and other sugary sweets into the burlap sack he also stole. He took a rather neat-looking cupcake off the shelf and took a bite; Yuck. He grabbed a different one and bit it; he ended up eating it then and there. Once his bag was full; 25 sweets in all, not to mention dozens of little candies and chocolates, but there was a reasonably sized emptiness on the shelf. He left behind the cupcake he took a bite out of and worked his way towards the door. But something caught his eye; a vintage, olde-timey cash register.

'I should probably carry some loose change in case,’ He thought. Brennan strode over, pressed a few buttons, and when that did not work, he slammed the register with the surprisingly effective brick. The cash box popped open, and Brennan reaped his booty; A few dozen dollars (He presumed) in gold coins. ‘Bits’ or something. They looked like tokens. This had turned out to be a rather successful heist. “Hmm…” Brennan wondered. He saw a notepad and pen on the counter, probably for writing checks. Brennan took the pad and pen and scribbled “You’ve been Moriartied, Sweetheart” on it. He then traced his steps through the bakery and left through the back doorway.

Big mistake. Unlike earlier, when he broke and entered to begin his heist, the area was crowded with around 15 of the creatures. 30 eyes…staring right at him.

Brennan turned and sprinted towards the alleys, while behind him people yelled “Stop! Thief!”

‘So much for stealth.’ Soon, however, despite some run-ins and breakouts, he was back in the forest with his entire bounty.

Moriartied, indeed.