Channel Surfing

Chapter 2: War, War never Changes

Andrew felt himself beginning to freak smooth the fuck out. He didn’t have hands, he had hooves, he was a zebra, and his Dad’s old M1 Garand had changed so that it could be fired by an Equine. He heard the sound of armored hoofsteps, and looked around desperately. Could he run to them for help? It was certainly a thought. Some part of him thought of the colorful ponies from Rescue at Midnight Castle. Sure, these things looked different, but those ponies were friendly toward the humans. Maybe they would be friendly toward him. He could explain that he was sucked into a satellite dish, sent into a strange world, and turned into a zebra.

The moment the entire thing ran through his head he was certain that he’d be considered crazy. From the look of this place there wasn’t a mental health hospital that really would work here. The armored steps stopped, and he saw one of those ponies, covered in that strange powered armor, standing on the top of some ruble.

“Zebra, halt!” he shouted, “Do not run, do not attempt to leave, you are ordered to remain where you are!”

The way he was talking made Andrew feel nervous. Damn it, he didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way that guy was talking to him. It reminded him way too much of a small town sheriff with far too much time on his hands, and looking for a way to vent his prejudices.

“Look man,” Andrew said, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I honestly don’t mean you any harm.”

The equine neared him, “Sure you don’t,” he said, “Just like your kind didn’t mean to bomb us two hundred years ago.”

He closed his eyes. Zebras bombed them? And of course he was a fucking zebra. That made so much sense. He was a zebra, that hadn’t done anything, but was in deep shit because he was a zebra. He didn’t want to test the pony wearing the armor. And he really didn’t want to end up on the wrong side of a beatdown either.

“I’m serious, I just appeared here. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what’s going on, and all I really know is that I’m lost.”

The pony looked at him, “Well, you don’t sound like what Elder Steelhooves said Zebras sound like.”

A throat being cleared caused Andrew to look up and see another fully armored pony. His raspy and deep voice seemed full of power and authority.

“That’s because he’s not a Zebra,” he said, “He’s a mixed breed. Some buck had a fun time with a zebra mare.”

Andrew looked at him. Sure, he wasn’t wrong, well not exactly. He wasn’t a fucking zebra, but his mom had been African American. He was part of two different ethnic backgrounds, but he was too light skinned to be considered black and too dark to be considered white. The armored pony neared him, “So, tell me, Zony,” he said, “what are you doing in the ruins of Manehattan?”

He swallowed and looked at him, “I really have no idea where I am, and did you say Manehattan?” he asked, “Like Manhattan?”

The armored pony studied him, “Hmmm, you sound like a Stable Dweller. But Stable 3, the Let’s all get along stable, fell victim to the pink cloud over a hundred years ago, so, where are you from?”

He swallowed, “I… I’m not from here, or usually look like this,” he said, “I signed up for something, and then some kind of energy hit me and brought me here.”

The armored pony studied him, “You will consent to traveling with us. You will consent to your weapon, and ammunition being removed for the time being, and you will consent to our authority. If you choose not to do so then you are welcome to attempt to leave. But understand that refusing to do so will be considered an act of aggression, and you will be dealt with accordingly.”

He understood all too well. Even though the armored pony hadn’t said it directly, he was fairly certain that if it was to be summed up what he meant was that if he stepped a toe, or hoof rather, out of line he would be dealt with in the harshest of ways. He nodded, watched as his father’s rifle was collected, the saddle bags he was wearing were gone through, and the small collection of shells he had for the rifle were taken.

They moved back toward where the armored ponies had been standing, and he heard them talking. He looked at the more feminine one, “Ummm, what’s going on?”

She studied him, “It’s classified,” she said, “Applejack Ranger’s mission details, and not for civilians.”

He sighed, it was times like these that he wished his dad would have told him more about the military. Sure, he understood some of it, but from what he could see these ponies were living the military life. They acted like a well maintained unit, and from what he could see they were following the one they called Elder Steelhooves. Which he noticed that Elder Steelhooves was looking at him.

“We’re moving toward a slaver encampment,” he said, “And we are going to free several ponies from their captives. If you want to prove yourself, and perhaps gain some leeway with us, I suggest that you follow directions.”

He nodded. It was fairly evident that he wasn’t holding any cards at this point. He didn’t even have a pair of aces. All he had was a shit hand, and the three ponies he was with seemed to have everything from royal flush to the damned deadman’s hand. They moved toward a ramp, made from an old billboard and what looked like telephone poles, when there was a sound almost like a rocket propelled firecracker.

He didn’t even have time to look before the female pony pushed him to the ground and covered him. The explosion that happened above them was loud, no loud wasn’t the right word. Sure, it conveyed the right feeling, but it was not the right word. The explosion was deafening would fit the situation better, and it certainly did. He looked out from under his protector to see a pony holding what looked like a four barreled RPG launcher, which he thanked playing video games before his ex sold all of his systems and games for knowing what it was, and it was fairly evident that the launcher wasn’t done yet.

None of the other armored ponies, or Applejack Rangers rather, said a word. Instead he watched as something opened on one of their armor and a missile shot out. It struck near the pony that had fired, but since a missile was similar to a grenade then the old adage was right. Close counted in horseshoes and hand grenades. The pony it hit had been a unicorn, and it had been wearing what looked like a coat, some weird looking rubber boots that covered its hooves, and it had been standing very much in one piece. That ended. That pony was missing its back legs, it was screaming in agony, and its launcher was lying away from it, now in a few pieces.

They began moving, and his would be protector stood. She looked at him, nodded, and trotted off behind the other two. He followed them down, and looked at the cages. They were made from shipping containers, he knew that much, and he could tell that someone, or somepony he supposed, had wired what looked like a very simple alarm system into handles. He followed the wire for the alarm system to a single large battery. He studied it, proceeded to unhook it, and when he did he could hear the doors open.

He looked to see several ponies stepping out, all of them were wearing strange collars, actually, they reminded him of the collars that he’d seen in The Running Man with Arnold Schwarzenegger. Looking at them he realized they were almost the same. They were explosive collars. His eyes widened as he looked at them. Who would put explosive collars around someone’s neck? That was insane! He looked around, and saw the slaver that was screaming, bleeding out, and he walked over to him.

“Oh sweet Luna help me!” he screamed.

“How do I get the collars off of them?” he asked.

“Please help me! I don’t want to die!”

He looked at the slaver, swallowed down everything he wanted to say, and remained calm, “How do I get the collars off of them?”

There was a faint light and a control came out of the pony’s trench coat pocket.

“The..The green button releases, the red one dedinates, please, please I don’t want to die!”

The feminine one walked closer to him, and he hit the green button. At that moment nearly twenty collars fell off of the slaves. They stood there, surprised, and then they began cheering. She looked at him, and then at the slaver.

“Please, please don’t let me…” the slaver said. His voice had began to sound quiet, his movements became less frantic, and finally he went still.

“Well, you managed to free them,” she said, “And you didn’t ask for anything.”

He looked at her, “Umm, it would only be right to free them,” he replied, “I’m Andrew.”

She looked at him and shook her head, “That’s a weird name,” she said, “I’m Knight Sweetie Pie.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, “Okay, Well, it’s a pleasure to actually meet you. So, what happens now?”

She looked toward Elder Steelhoove who nodded, and then she handed him back his dad’s M1 Garand, the ammunition for it, and gave him a nod.

“Now, we escort these slaves back to their home, you’re welcome to join us, or you can go on your way.”

He looked at her, “I honestly have no where else to go.”

She gave him a slight nod, and the tiniest smile, “Well then, I suppose that it’s a good thing we’ve always wanted to visit Nowhere else.”

He laughed. The joke was one that he’d loved from Blazing Saddles, and he wondered if they had a version of that film here. Part of him doubted it, but regardless, he followed her, and together they began making their way with the slaves toward whatever village they had come from. He did notice a recurring theme among the ponies, at least the former slaves, and the few other slavers that Steelhooves, Knight Sweetie Pie, and the other Applejack Ranger that hadn’t told him his name yet, had found and offered the wonderful terms of dying by overwhelming firepower, or throwing down their weapons and being escorted to the Applejack Ranger’s headquarters where they would be tried for their criminal offences.

Most chose death by overwhelming firepower. There was a single slaver, a mare, and he noticed that she was missing an eye, he would assume, had a cracked horn, and instead of fighting she threw down her weapons. He watched as she tried to fall behind, and after three times she was moved to the front. The occasional sound of Steelhooves missile launcher opening from the side of his armor seemed to be enough to keep her moving. Yet, even she shared the common theme he noticed.

Every single one of them was a brightly colored, almost adorably cute equine. Well, they would be more adorably cute if they weren’t filthy and didn’t smell like they had been wallowing in their own filth for about a month. Still, they looked incredibly like the ponies from the old My Little Ponies cartoon that his brother loved. Granted, they didn’t look the same. Their eyes were bigger, and far more expressive, but they were more or less just like the cartoon characters from the My Little Pony cartoon.

It made him wonder if there had been more than just the Movie, tv specials, and old 1980’s series that ran. He remembered watching all of it, with his brother, arguing about wanting to watch He-Man, She-Ra, Thundercats, G.I. Joe, or even Care Bears and the Smurfs, but his brother wanted to watch the ponies. He loved those cartoons, and Rescue from Midnight Castle had been his favorite. They finally made it to what looked like a small hamlet of nearly collapsed apartment buildings. The slaves all thanked them, and headed toward the buildings. He looked as they moved off, and studied the old buildings. They were falling in on themselves. Some barely had four walls and not really a roof, but rather the floor from the blasted off floor that was above where they were most likely living.

It looked like something he’d seen from old documentaries of World War II. He shook his head and followed the Applejack Rangers back toward their headquarters, and he saw something glowing. Moving toward it he saw what looked like television static. Behind him he heard Sweetie Pie.

“What in Luna’s tight snatch is this?” she asked.

He looked at it, touched it, and suddenly the same feeling from the satellite dish covered him. He felt Sweetie Pie wrap her forelegs around him, and instead of stopping it pulled the both of them through.

Author's Note

(AN: Alright, I'm having a vote on the next chapter of Channel Surfing. I've listed the options on my Blog, but I figure that I can list them here as well.

1: Old School Rescuce at Midnight Castle. Sure, he was watching the movie, but then what's to stop him from actually visiting Gen 1 Tirek and dealing with the dark magic that transforms ponies into dragons? Most likely in this world he would get to keep his human form.

2: Xenophiliaverse... Not much else to be said about this one.

3: Friendship is Witchcraft: An awesome series in its own right, and would certainly be great fodder for a chapter.

4: .mov series: Because who wouldn't want to see an over the top parody become part of a story about hoping from channel to channel?

5: Other: This is your spot to basically write in your own choice, and believe me, there's more than enough to choose from. So, go, go my friends, and choose our protagonist's fate.

So let me know which sounds amazing to you, and I'll go with that decision)