A drop of sweat ran down DeathRiseRobo's face.

I've put in too much plot development, they thought. Time to wingit!

The story rumbled, and the most drastic change possible happened:
Twilight grew wings.

And the last words the story thought were:

WHAT THE FU-

Author's Note

Twilight gasped for breath. Flying really is hard, she thought. Using the last vestige of her strength, she looked around. It was pitch black; the only pony there was Pinkie, twiddling her thumbs in a most un-Pinkie-like manner. Sitting next to her was Morgan Freeman with a sign saying, "Get Me Out Of Hell!" Thinking it strange, Twilight wobbled over to her, off-put by the new balance on her chest.
Stupid, curly wings... she thought.
Pinkie turned to Twilight.
"Nice wings, princess," Pinkie whispered.
Twilight rolled her eyes. "What's wrong, Pinkie?"
"The notes," Pinkie mumbled.
"What?"
"Twilight, we're stuck in the Author's Notes."