If Nightmare Moon were interesting, she'd take initiative and bail for space before she could be evicted via laser light show. She'd sail aimless as an albatross across the night sky and tweak the rotation of the celestial spheres so that their music became barely audible as a ceaseless stream of profanity that tickled the lower range of everypony's ears. She'd ditch the tired horse face decor marring her moon and spend a thousand years carving an aggressively detailed likeness of her own ass and genitals across the lunar surface. She’d tunnel to the moon’s center and pummel its core into life, releasing clouds of foul vapors from her astounding astronomical anus and remind prudes and protective parents why they fear the night.
If Nightmare Moon were interesting, she'd refuse to return to the tawdry gravity-infested hole she'd mistakenly called home. She'd remain forever above Equestria, curse the ground, and proclaim the moon's eternal supremacy. Having gotten a taste for secession, she'd never have enough of it and balkanize herself into a million pieces classlessly glittering-glattering throughout space. Her luxuriant eyebrows would bombard Equestria with incoherent propaganda about their war against her delightful eyelashes written in Lunarian, a language that she alone had spoken until her larynx and lungs ceased diplomatic relations.
If Nightmare Moon were interesting, she'd refuse the bait until two days and five hours too late and return too drunk to stand straight stumbling about with the aid of a sexy astronaut on one side and a sexy moon maid on the other. She'd tell Celestia in a slurring-stupid voice that there would be no kidnappings or coups today or any day and if her sister wanted a break from her job she'd just have to take the initiative and bugger off on her lonesome like she had.
If Nightmare Moon were interesting, she'd return wild and wide-eyed as a stray cat's whiskers. She'd wear a tinfoil hat and tell every soul she met about the brain bank cities on the far side of the moon no one can see where Celestia has been storing the actual brains of everypony in Equestria. She'd blow the whole conspiracy wide open and be the downfall of the monarchy as the sheeple finally awakened to Celestia's identity as the Communist Gangster Computer God created by a bunch of griffon peasants on a bender thousands of years ago.
If Nightmare Moon were interesting, she'd instantly collapse under the pressure of the terrestrial atmosphere with a sound like a deflating whoopee cushion. She'd complain that someone had stolen her favorite mountain range and demand it be returned to her bedroom at once. She'd claim she lost 60 pounds on the Raw Vacuum diet and oxygen—like Vitamin C—was a scam to keep ponies breathing in empty air calories and chem trails. She'd announce she had taken the liberty of declaring war against the moon men on behalf of Equestria and wish everyone the best of luck with that as a barrage of alien artillery was seen falling toward their doomed little planet. She’d perch, snickering like a raven, above a doorway her guzzler glorified with hanging gore and shriek “nevermind” until someone did mind.
If Nightmare Moon were interesting, she'd reveal the most shocking of truths she’d discovered during her thousand year timeout: the moon was made of cardboard, the stars were just small pieces of foil, the sun was merely a cheap light bulb, and everything was mounted on a system of gears revolving around a toy-sized model of Equestria roughly the dimensions of a dinner table. Eyes, veins and jaw popping as she reached the peak of her frenzy, she'd say ponies only thought Equestria wasn't tiny because it was being held directly in their faces, much like a matchstick may appear to be the size of a tree if held directly in front of one's eye, and if you'd only take a few steps back, you'd realize you could pick up Canterlot Castle with a single hoof and chuck it away like a paper cup and just see if she didn’t!
If Nightmare Moon were interesting, she'd invent the transistor and inflict late night television on her ungrateful subjects. She'd appear in Equestrian homes every night wearing a set of delicate chimes made from a previously used pelvis and the spines of her victims as a hat and preaching about the dangers of masturbation. She'd sell cockroaches as adorable pocket pets in hour long infomercials. She'd fund her campaign against good taste by auctioning pornographic portraits of mice. She'd sign off each morning as the sun rose promising, "You'll be pleased to know that the joy I take in my nostril hairs increases nightly and you couldn't stop me even if you tried."
If Discord were interesting, he'd confess to Celestia that she was the only mare who could get him rock hard and repeat the line in a different tone of voice every time Celestia tried to respond. He'd announce Celestia was his mother and his aunt and his lover and their family lineage resembled less a tree than a twine ball hence his mutated features. He'd reveal the whole sad, sordid story to the world and keep adding details until it took months to tell and no one could sit through it without retching. He'd have the documents to prove it and know they were genuine because he'd forged them himself.
If Discord were interesting, he'd skip the tacky hedge maze. All he’d need is an open field to show Twilight something unspeakable: incontrovertible evidence of her own freedom without any convenient barriers or opposition. He'd leave her there with her arsenal of denial totally depleted and nothing but a note reading: "Your means never had an end. There is only what you choose to do and how much it befouls the aura of your closest foalhood pets."
If Discord were interesting, he'd steal the secret of fire from the gods and bestow it upon a species of ungrateful and spite-minded crustaceans. He'd steal the wine of heaven which grants immortality to all that drink it and share it with a troop of baboons. He’d whisper “of course, you’re free to go” in the ear of everypony he met. He'd live under a bridge vomiting out travelers and keep his karma meticulously groomed with a rake. He'd offer to pay Twilight rent for all the space he was occupying in her head. He’d take inexplicable pride in the percentage of his body that could be strangled. He'd replace himself with a pile of rubber ducks and forget the punchline.
If Discord were interesting, he'd declare his skeleton to be the eighth wonder of the world and dare anyone to produce photographic evidence to the contrary. He'd explain that what appeared to be his left arm wasn't and only appeared connected to his shoulder by a trick of the light and apologize in advance for anything it might do. He'd throw the schizophrenics a bone and prove the existence of a pseudo-governmental agency dedicated to gang-stalking. He'd emerge from a public restroom sweating and bug-eyed with a celebrity chef in a headlock. He’d costume a horde of whippets as Ridely Scott’s Alien and set them loose on an unsuspecting world.
If Discord were interesting, he'd climb a tree in Celestia's garden and refuse to come down until shown something worth his eyes. Celestia's soldiers would jab at him with their spears to evict him only for him to yawn loudly at their uniforms and attempted violence. Poets and philosophers would arrive with verse and arguments that would do nothing to break the sterility of the tended lawns and trimmed bushes. He'd remain there, almost Daoist with boredom, until he saw a feral grass snake slithering through the grass. The sight of the snake which had slithered under a gate and slithered onto the grounds would shock him into dropping down and following the snake into the bushes where they would birth a thousand yellow-eyed babies and the whole incident would be covered up by an embarrassed kultur.
If Discord were interesting, he'd grant amnesty for all the trespasses committed against him especially the libelous belief that he might be the one with something to apologize for. He'd respond to any and all accusations by saying, "you're very welcome, indeed, mon chéri." He'd emerge from his stone prison and shout "Oh no, I've arrived nowhere!" He'd hijack the polar jetstream and drive it straight down Rarity's chimney filling her house with upset pegasi and dead birds. He’d say, “if you were to take the circulatory system of a judge and lay each vein, capillary and artery out end to end along the Equator, well I certainly wouldn’t blame you.” He'd abduct himself and send his own detached and still animated body parts in the mail to an increasingly distraught public demanding a squire’s ransom in eye sand and tooth sauce if they never wanted to see him again.
If Chrysalis were interesting, she'd mimic Celestia and flaunt her mortality as if it were an open invitation by referring to her head as a personal gift to any snipers in the audience. She'd mimic Luna and follow her around repeating everything she said in a baby-talk voice. She'd mimic Twilight and eat a bird before a horrified yet eager paparazzi. She'd mimic Applejack and appear in outhouse windows every full moon staring all mournful-like. She'd mimic Rainbow Dash and do nothing different than her target because Dash sabotages her reputation pretty well on her own.
If Chrysalis were interesting, she'd mimic herself and drop the world into a madness of infinite recursion. She'd forge her own signature on autographs and come in twentieth place in a Chrysalis impersonation contest. She'd steal from her future self by borrowing large sums of money at punitive interest rates and hide out in an old movie set of a cheap motel disguised as a fugitive with nothing but a picture of a gun and a papier-mâché basket of clay pumpkins to keep her company. She’d bellow like a Harryhausen cyclops and take two weeks to move a single step, also like a Harryhausen cyclops.
If Chrysalis were interesting, she'd not waste any time pretending to be that prissy pink princess of pox and just take Shining Armor on her own terms--wearing a latex body suit filled with strawberry jam and howling like a canard as she hovered outside his bedroom window every night. She'd rock his little world and they'd run off to join the Khmare Rouge 40 years too late. Undeterred, they'd sprint together through jungle obstacle courses in black pajamas and sandals made of old tires. She'd insist she was a fugitive despite no one being able to find a warrant for her arrest and use an army of proxies bearing loud speakers and wearing paper plate masks of her face to run for mayor of a city she insisted she couldn’t set hoof in for fear of the law.
If Chrysalis were interesting, she'd decorate the caves beneath Canterlot like a dyslexic clown's vagina and Twilight would be instantly struck blind upon arriving. She’d rub her hindlegs together like a cricket and compose a symphony of screaming outrage. She'd introduce herself by saying she’d recently escaped from the laughing academy and was always happy to meet another former inmate. She'd warn Fluttershy that Twilight liked to eat birds and just keep pushing the idea until it stuck. She'd forget which end of the chainsaw you're supposed to buy the farm from and go on a killing spree with one anyway.
If Tirek were interesting, he'd run about with his knuckles dragging the ground and demand recognition as a citizen of the insect kingdom. He'd establish an embassy in every pantry and eat Equestria out of house and home. He'd campaign against the use of toxins on his carapaced brothers and sisters and appear on daytime talk shows and vomit into the mouths of the hosts claiming this was a sign of friendship in his culture.
If Tirek were interesting, he'd disguise himself as a mountain baffling and outraging climbers as they attempted to scale his ever-increasing bulk. He'd tattoo a one-for-one map of Ponyville on his skin and flop down across the town replacing it perfectly when viewed from space. He'd fashion ocean vessels into crocs and refuse to believe there was no market for such things as he went door to door with his croc-ships and relentless idiot enthusiasm.
If Tirek were interesting, he'd squeeze himself into a rigid rubber lizard suit with floppy spines down the back and destroy a series of increasingly large models of Manehattan until he worked himself up to wrecking the real thing. He'd battle for dominance against Gamera, the giant turtle that flies through the air propelled his amazing atomic ass. He'd take the skyscrapers to be his dildo collection, putting them to good use for once. He'd demonstrate Equestria was flat by pushing everything off the edge like a bored house cat. He’d arrive on the scene in a midget car brimming with vitriol and repressed anxiety.
If Tirek were interesting, he'd wear a leotard that was built with no allowances for his centaur form so it stretched out like a banjo string between his shoulders and immense rump. He'd become a professional wrestler and bellow his way through a presentation where he proved with irrefutable mathematics that he had a 155 percent chance of defeating Twilight Sparkle. He'd become the first ever Competitive Competitive Eater Eater when he swallowed Joe Chestnut whole before a live studio audience. He'd finish his performance by using Discord as a piece of dental floss and lopping off Rainbow Dash's tail for his toothpaste.
If Tirek were interesting, he'd get his horns tangled in the firmament and pull the whole sky down on top of himself. He'd place a panda on the moon just to watch it explosively decompress like a damp firecracker. He'd discover he had acrophobia after he was two-stories tall and only escape vertigo by scooting along on his back with his six limbs wiggling in the air belligerent as a beetle. He'd keep growing until his mass became so great he collapsed into a black hole that devoured the solar system.
If Starlight Glimmer were interesting, she'd go everywhere borne on a palanquin made from her own skeleton with her flesh shimmy-shimmering in boneless ecstasy atop it like a silk sheet. She’d incite a riot by appealing for calm and not stop until a squad of marines formed a flying wedge and physically drove her into the sea. She'd ride across the ocean reclining on a scarlet beast with ten horns and seven heads. She'd wonder why the animal crossing signs are always at high traffic areas where animals are likely to be struck by oncoming traffic and own it like a modern mare. She'd keep everyone on edge by quickly re-marrying a mop and bucket after her messy divorce from reality.
If Starlight Glimmer were interesting, she'd make like Tao Qatgani and pass rulership of Our Town on to the first pony she met, creating a long and torturous chain of ownership that would only end when a nearby warlord annexed the whole thing. She'd make like Poll Pot and hold literacy in such contempt that she created a new genre of mandatory autobiography. She'd print money and then hide it all in a warehouse where it could harm no one. Each bill would have a peasant printed on it holding both a spear and a hoe, ready to pause in the heart of battle to do a bit of emergency gardening. She'd join the Baise Davidians and the June 4th movement and watch as chariots from the East and West crashed into one another in their race to run her over. She'd translate the teachings she received from mycelium, bees and stardust into usable social skills for ponies. She’d run away from her responsibilities in Our Town to join the circus only to discover that everyone else had the same idea, and she’d sneak away from the circus to settle in a new town only to find herself again surrounded by the same ponies.
If Starlight Glimmer were interesting, she'd put her time travel abilities to good use and appear at the scene of every assassination with celebratory T-shirts. She'd release a mated pair of mimes into the jungles of prehistoric Equestria. She'd locate the first political cartoonist and strangle him in his crib. She'd proliferate the sequence of symbols "she'd" and "he'd" until they lost meaning. She'd rescue Jaekelopterus rhenaniae, the three-meter-long freshwater lobster, from extinction and set it loose in a fitting modern environment like Lake Tahorse where it could eat the tourist's crappy little dogs. She’d leave a sports almanac with the confused inhabitants of ancient Anugypt and explain the germ theory of disease to an uncomprehending stegosaurus.
If Starlight Glimmer were interesting, she'd plant a flag in the barren wastes of the future and bounce off back into her space capsule. She'd tell Twilight, "congratulations, you're only the second worst dancer alive now." She’d sigh magnanimously and say, “okay, just this once we can repopulate the species, but next time you’re on your own.” She'd caution, "madness climbs my spine like a ladder and the sun is running through my veins. The situation is hazardous. This is becoming normal for me." She'd complain that even here there were pigeons and insist on it so vehemently that even Twilight was dragged sideways into her reality, the two of them vanishing into the wastes to live forever on a diet of mud pies and canned laughter.
If Starlight Glimmer were interesting, she'd make her history multiple choice. She'd have been raised by bears and thrown into polite society for being too rough with her ursine siblings. She'd have been a member of a pre-civilization tribe of telepathic cave ponies and been forcibly emiled into pony society after pooping in the same spot too often and accidentally inventing agriculture. She'd have been kicked out of a synchronized firing squad for having terrible rhythm. She’d have discovered her philosophy in the bottom of a cereal box. She’d have become permanently embittered against cutie marks when her only friend received his cutie mark in exploding suddenly into a hundred foot tall geyser of blood and promptly did so.
If Starlight Glimmer were interesting, she'd become the Equine Kite and immeasurably improve public events by ruining them. She'd descend from the sky into the middle of a hoofball match and antagonize both teams into chasing her out the stadium doors and into the path of a buffalo stampede. She'd swoop into outdoor weddings and become entangled in the electric wiring squawking angrily and trying to eat the light bulbs. She’d steal a blimp and slowly cruise over cities distributing pornography like propaganda pamphlets. She'd really cross the line and draw justified outrage from all corners by saving the life of a particularly loathsome clown. She'd steal a pile of rubber ducks and remember what the punchline was but refuse to tell anyone.
If Evil were interesting, even for a single instant, the whole world would explode into a lurid and ridiculous display and every death and torment would be redeemed in divine criminality.
But Evil is never interesting. It is gray and flavorless as a warship at sea and uninspired as the same worthless gag about following orders repeated over and over again. A billion petty tyrants have come with their toadies and banners, and a billion more are on the horizon, each determined to steal the world for their property and not one of them with a single worthwhile idea about what to do with it once they have it.
Author's Note
Inspired by Aylett's "If Armstrong Was Interesting."
