It had finally happened. The typical Isekai trigger.

You'd been having a fine day. Visiting friends, going outside, small talk-ing about the weather, or the city, or how Janice from Accounting was on her third divorce. The usual office gossip and all that.

Then, you'd made the mistake of going on their lunch break. A fatal error.

It shouldn't have been terribly difficult. You hadn't even needed your car — there was a restaurant right on the corner, and it wouldn't hurt to walk maybe half a block — and the temperature was warm enough despite the time of year. If should have been a quick trip with no complications, and the worst you'd have been able to gripe about was that the poor, minimum wage fast food employee behind the counter gave you ketchup when you asked for mustard.

Should've, could've, would've.

You should have gotten up early to make lunch. You could have just stayed in the office. You would have done differently, maybe, but suddenly weren't able to do anything...

Because, as you crossed the intersection, you became hyperaware that you hadn't looked both ways. You checked midway through. It would normally be fine — slow day, pedestrian crosswalk, the works.

But it wasn't.

Because you looked up and saw It. The vehicle of death. A 2005 Toyota Corolla (gray, maybe, but also maybe brown?) absolutely not obeying local traffic laws, carrening your way much faster than the 35mph speed limit would allow.

Of course, putting your arms up to defend yourself from several tons of metal while screaming did absolutely nothing, but hey! You tried.

Screech of brakes too late. Impact. It would have hurt, but you were too focused on all the breath being knocked from your body as you managed humanity's first solo flight under your own power, smacking painfully into the curb seconds after being airborne. It was a low enough speed (for a given value of "low") that everything should be fine (for a given value of "fine"), but the universe had other plans.

Turns out mashing your head into concrete at 35mph isn't what medical professionals would call "an ideal situation". But unfortunately, you didn't have enough time to consider that.

Everything went black, and then you died.

...

Or did you?

See, God (or whatever powers that be) has a somewhat sick sense of humor. He'll shove you into another universe just fine — one from a piece of media you like, even — but you don't exactly get to pick which one, or what age you were when you happened to like it.

This presents many problems. Some people like violent media. Some people like the world a media shows, but don't consider the consequences of it on a person. Some just don't enjoy the idea of being stuck in Barney and Friends because it was their favorite show when they were six.

You were a victim of lucky #2.

Staggering into the world of Equestria, you were...confused. Startled. Befuddled. That wreck had felt so real, but now you were in...a forest? It looked just like Earth, but how had you gotten here if you were just at work?

There was also a pony. There was a pony in front of you, looking shocked. Not quite in front of you, actually, but running in your direction, one hoof pointed skyward.

Unfortunately, you didn't have enough time to consider much about that either. You followed its lead and looked up, now half convinced this was some sort of coma dream.

There was an anvil. An anvil falling from the sky. An anvil that, while probably lesser in its weight than a 2005 Toyota Corolla, was probably going considerably faster than a measly 35mph as it rocketed towards the ground. Right smack dab in your direction. Distantly above it, you could just barely see a small gray smudge following it, at a much slower pace.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

You're not so stupid that you don't try to get out of the way, but it's like the anvil is following you. Did ponies make heat seeking missiles in the form of anvils as a weapon of war? It tracked you across the sky like an old cartoon gag, and no matter how far away you try to run, it's always right above your head. Screaming pathetically, you flail in a panic as the anvil finally makes landfall. Of course, it manages to hit you head on, even though you'd been running away from it for the past ten-ish seconds.

Everything went black, and then you died. Again.

Welcome to Equestria!

Derpy flapped down slowly, a heavy guilt weighing her down. Figuratively, of course — the physical heavy weight had already slipped from her hooves. That monkey thing was around here, right? She was sure she'd seen it. It probably had a bump on its head. Somepony ought to go check on it to make sure it wasn't hurt.

She scanned the ground below, finally catching sight of her dropped payload as the late day sun glinted off the metal sides. Derpy whined nervously, approaching with the same trepidation as a bunny trying to sneak past a bear.

The damage was...bad. Where the anvil had impacted, the ground had cratered in. If the monkey thing was still there it was...below that.

It was okay, though! And minute now, the thing would pop up from under the anvil, a comical bump on its noggin but no worse for wear.

Derpy waited.

...and waited.

...and waited.

When there was no movement, she descended and let her hooves touch down, nervously pawing at the metal object as if she thought it might gain sentience and move on its own. It didn't, of course. She eventually settled on shoving it out of thr way to assess the damage, finding nothing. No monkey. Just a crater.

Wait. No. Derpy blinked, blinked again. Focused her crossed eyes.

There was soemthing. A stone marker.

R. I. P
Anon

There was even a single nondescriptive flower growing from the front of it.

Derpy frowned and checked her watch. She'd already wasted five minutes falling for the parlor trick of some monkey-ape thing. She needed to get back to work.

Shrugging, she grunted and took back to the air slowly, heavy anvil carried behind her.

Author's Note

I'm drunk at home and have been doing little besides sleeping and playing Undertale Yellow. Ran this through Word so hopefully it's coherent. Teen rating because I don't know. Wanted to play it safe I guess.

AKA "Have this crackfic (is that still a commonly used word?); the story is bad, but it wanted to be made (by a drunkard, I guess)."

Was going to make it gorey but decided against it. Blegh.