Just as these sort of stories go, we shall begin with a simple, yet recognizable line:
Twilight Sparkle screamed.
Of course, alongside the fact that the author has to press enter twice in Word to make up for the paragraph formatting stuff on Fimfic, this scream was likely prompted by the fact that all logic and sense had long since left her realm of existence.
The only thing that makes sense to you and your family and friends are now a member of Congress and a lot of money.
“MON-AYYYY?!” xXxPr0G@m3rZlulu420xXx screeched, bursting through your screen, “PLEASE, WE BEG OF YOU, PAY YOUR TAXES SO WE MAY PURCHASE LOOTBOXES.”
Annoyed, you swat away Gamer Luna with a plush of her. You had a story to read. Maybe not this story in specific (and if not then pls read this boi’s stories) but a story nonetheless.
A portal opened up somewhere between here and there, with here being there and there being here. This portal began to SUCC in everything around it like the nasty little hole of doom that it was, spewing everything out into Equestria.
In fact, what a great time to turn this story into a mash of insanity and Displaced. Just in time for me to switch over to my tablet with a real keyboard!
The portal makes a big ol’ vacuum noise and drags you in without hesitation. You didn’t have a choice or say in the matter—you’re going to Equestria, whether you like it or not. Take a look at the object to the left of you. That’ll be what you specialize in, as well as your cutie mark. The item to your right, on the other hand, will become a demonic entity that will haunt you for the rest of your lowly existence in this story.
Ready? Good, ‘cause I’m not giving you time to get ready.
You are sent hurtling down into the innards of Equestria as [insert character here], wielding your [item to the left] and screaming at the top of your lungs because it looks like you’re about to be speared on Celestia’s horn.
Luckily for you, Celestia turns around at the perfect time, resulting in you instead breaking your spine on her back. Congrats, you died, ya doofus. Now I’ma have to call up Spike and ask him to—oh, he already revived you, alright. Tell him to say hi to Barney for me, will ya?
Anyway, for the sake of adding more pony to this, you not only are [insert character here] wielding a [item to your left] that now vaguely looks like a half-broken toilet seat, but you’re a ponified version of that character. Don’t ask why the toilet seat lookin’ thing you’re holding has googly eyes now. That’s just your imagination. I think.
You decide that now is the absolute best time to take a stroll through the middle of Equestria. So, without paying any attention whatsoever to the road signs and stuff all over the place, you decide to jaywalk straight across main street. On the other side, you see some green lookin’ dude with a question mark for a face waving at you. He feels familiar, but you don’t have the chance to put much thought in it before you get sent hurtling into the air by a high-velocity Twilight Sparkle rushing to Canterlot Castle to gush about some missed assignment or another.
But wait, isn’t Twilight a Princess now? Doesn’t she report only to herself? Who knows? The timeline of this story is just as much of a mess as the author’s will to write horsewords anyway, so let’s just keep going and see what happens!
Intrigued but still pained from almost breaking your neck in the same place where you broke your spine, you decide to Naruto run after Twilight because you saw all the cool kids doing it at Area 51. Somewhere along the way you picked up 37 cats, 44 dogs, 3 gerbils and a parrot. Probably because you ran straight through a pet store. Like, you slammed yourself hard enough into the pens and stuff like that to just bust a hole through ‘em Kool-Aid Man style.
…
…
Stream-of-thought storywriting is fun sometimes.
Ahem.
You continued in your hot pursuit of Twilight Sparkle. You wanted this to be a cool pursuit though, because the hotness of the pursuit made you all sweaty and icky and made you feel like the mortal pony body your were trapped in at the moment was too limiting because it was covered in freakin’ horsehair that you couldn’t just peel away like a jacket. Or a banana.
You’re welcome for the image, by the way.
“YOU’LL NEVER CATCH ME!” a recorrupted King Sombra cackled, swooping overhead with his Minecraft merch, “FOR I HAVE TEAMED UP WITH HEROBRINE TO VANQUISH THIS CHRISTIAN MINECRAFT SERVER.”
“Hey, teaming is a bannable offense in this minigame!” xXxMONSTERGAMERLUNABATHWATER69xXx hollered, throwing a wiimote at the dark king. King Sombra hissed as the wiimote bounced off his muzzle.
“You make me want to return to Fortnite.”
The moment those cursed words escaped King Sombra’s lips, the world imploded. Again. Fortnite has no place in this story. What was it about again anyway? The story, I mean. Um… yes, you were pursuing Twilight Sparkle. Though, the world around you is now just a void. It’s pleasantly familiar, though, so you’re already used to it. Some void fill would be nice though.
Finally, you catch up to Twilight Sparkle, panting heavily as you leaned on your [item to your left]. In the distance, the demonic screeches of a grotesquely ponified [item to your right] echoes throughout the void. Twilight Sparkle, however, is unfazed. She has looked the void in its eyes, and filled its soul with even emptier void. Twilight is the void queen. All hail the void queen.
After taking a massive SIPP of your potion of swiftness, you decide it is now time to embrace your inner Team Rocket and blast off at the speed of light. This, in hindsight, was a bad idea, because now you have been reduced to nothing but pure energy because matter is not known to be able to reach such ludicrous speeds.
You wake up in Ponyville Hospital. Was all of this a dream? You push the thought to the back of your mind. Your straightjacket seems to want to talk to you. Something about pudding. Though it wasn’t your focus at the moment. No, your focus was set on the hindquarters of Nurse Redheart nearby. You lick your lips, before getting a heft slap across the face by the CHILD FRIENDLY Pinkie Pie that just emerged from your straightjacket. You are quite sure that she is the entity that possesses your dapper attire and makes it call for pudding.
“PUDDING.” Your straightjacket screeches again, blowing out the eardrums of every ear-having creature within the room. This, unfortunately, includes you. You are now deaf and still stuck in a possessed straightjacket thing. Does this mean that it’s time for some binging of nightly doom attic gear extractors? Of course not, silly! We aim to keep things kid and teen-friendly ‘round these parts. Binging of nightly doom attic gear extractions is a baaaaaad thing!
Probably should get back to the topic. To recap, you are a pony of some character you happen to like, with [item to your left], your trusty weapon, stuck somewhere uncomfortable. You have no idea why you are in a straightjacket, or why you are still staring at Nurse Redheart’s plot, but nevertheless—
Oh, it appears that it is time for our irregularly-unscheduled commercial break from Flim and Flam. Take it away, sham brothers!
“That’s shimsham brothers to you!”
Somewhere far away, you hear Sunset Shimmer scream in agony at one of her nicknames being sullied by lowly scammers.
“BUY THE BRAND SPANKIN’ NEW HECCBOCHS TOO!” Flim hollered, yeeting a large totally-not-a-ripoff-Xbox at your face. It hurt to live sometimes.
“IT’S SO AMAZING WE SKIPPED THE 1ONE1!!1!” Flam added, “AND NOW FOR OUR JINGLE!”
“BUY THE MEGAHARD HECCBOCHS TOO! IT’S THE ULTIMATE MEME MACHIIIIIINE, TO MAKE YOU GIVE UP YOUR HOPES AND DREEEEEEAAAAMS, IT’S SO THICC IT’LL MAKE YOU C—”
Pinkie Pie emerged once again to slap Flam.
“CHILD FRIENDLY, FOR THE LAST TIME!” she yelled, giving the stallion a couple more slaps to the face for good measure.
Wait hold on, that was the wrong ad! Oh well, time to play the right one!
If you or a loved one has been diagnosed with mesosqueelioma, you may be entitled to receive up to -$12 in compensation via our special in-store offer of farm-fresh chicken tendies. For the low low price of $19.99, you may claim your compensation after emailing your credit card, photo ID, passport, and your firstborn child to your long-deceased great great great great great uncle. To do this, it is highly recommended to ask your doctor to prescribe you Time Machines. Time Machines is an experimental new medical technology that allows one to travel back in time to slap themselves for their future mistakes, and to mail great great great great great uncles your firstborn child. Side effects of using Time Machines may include timeline instability, the fracturing of reality and/or hips, and sudden rapid onset balding of the tongue. Please ask your doctor before diagnosing yourself with mesosqueelioma before using Time Machines.
And now back to our regularly-scheduled horsewords!
At some point or another through the ad, you ended up dying of ligma because of King Sombra being a Fortnite boi. Unfortunately, that also meant that you were no longer entitled to negative $12 in compensation for your mesosqueelioma, but it didn’t matter much, because you were now an alicorn!
Higher and higher you soared into the sky—past the clouds, past the pegasi, even higher then the peak towers of Canterlot. It was at this point that you realized that you had, in fact, been locked and loaded into Celestia’s moonshot canon. Yup, you were on the bad guys’ side now for whatever reason. Though it might’ve had something to do with sneezing into Celestia’s cake.
Thinking fast, you pull out your jetpack from your [item to the left] and strap it on, turning yourself around and setting the blasters to full speed. Going now at speed speeds that were never speeded before, you sped your way down to the newly-made Ponyville Speedway. Or, at the very least, what was left of the monument to Twilight’s giant broccoli library house thingy. You could never really tell whether or not the mare was obsessed with broccoli or if the tree itself was actually just a giant broccoli. It totally wasn’t just a regular ol’ tree, amirite?
Right?
Guys?
The narrator chuckled as Twilight Sparkle frowned, folding her arms and nodding to her lab assistant, Elkraps Thgiliwt, also known as Psike. You feel your disembodied arms being grabbed, and your body slowly begins to drag along the cold, hard concrete. You were the narrator all along, apparently.
What a surprise.
Author's Note
I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing and I wrote part of this on Microsoft Word mobile on my phone.
