The Most Deplorable Attraction in the History of the Multiverse*

For over nine hundred years, Ian McCoy had traveled across the multiverse experiencing all life had to offer. What had started as the most incredible chapter of Ian’s life quickly became an uneventful chore. The majestic nebulas, expansive civilizations, and mind bending realities that amazed him became predictable and unexciting. Furthermore, the panic and fear from the Locals of every new universe were constant annoyances.

Ian joined the Angels thinking he would become a hero. Everywhere he’d go, he would save those in need and, like a superhero, never ask for praise. However, an absence of praise is far from the crazed mobs Ian frequently ran into. Soon Ian learned to hide from them, never to show his face, and to never trust them. What started as a habit grew into a philosophy and, after nine hundred years, the ambitious do-gooder was lost, replaced by a bitter cynic. He grew impatient and angry, which only furthered the Locals’ distrust of him, which only made Ian angrier and more distrustful.

But then Mark drank one hundred and fifty shots of vodka on a dare and sent Ian through the ceiling of Twilight’s house. Never in a million years would he or Mark have expected he would fall in love with her. Never would he have thought she would feel the same. But it was Ian, and, like the Locals before her, she grew to hate him. He couldn’t blame her.

Ian did his best to move on with his life and forget about the one girl he’d ever loved, but the guilt grew in him like a disease. The wonders of the multiverse paled in comparison to her smiling face and loving eyes, and no Demonic wound was worse than the sight of her in tears.

After two years, the painful emptiness had consumed Ian. He tried to ignore it, detach himself from his body, and give up his life to the Angels, but it was impossible. Every day was spent in agony and regret, and Ian was powerless to change it. There was no escape from the prison- the hell that was his life.

The days blurred into weeks, months, and before Ian knew it, another year had passed. He had the same room, the same bed, the same pain. And so, he waited. Each day he would sit on his bed, staring at the floor, waiting for his next assignment. But one thing was different today: he had a visitor.

“Happy one thousand,” Mark chimed as he popped his head into Ian’s room. Apparently today was Ian’s one thousandth year as an Angel, not that it made much difference.

“Woo.” Ian didn’t even care to look up.

“Damn right, ‘woo’. You and I are gonna’ go to Earth, get drunk, and-”

“Mark, I think I’d prefer to stay here.”

Mark sighed and leaned against the doorway. He was an ass, but he knew when a friend was upset. “You miss her, don’t you?” Ian glared up at Mark and went back to staring at the floor. It wasn’t Mark’s fault for what happened, it was entirely Ian’s doing, but Ian still didn’t feel like talking to him.

Much to Ian’s disliking, Mark sat down on his bed and stared at him. “How many times have I told you to forget about her? What, like, fifty? A hundred?”

“Enough to make me want to kick your ass,” Ian grumbled. Mark laughed and patted Ian on the back, and it took all his restraint not to throw a punch.

“Dude, you’re gonna’ wanna’ kiss me in a minute.” Ian glared at him. Why the hell was he so damn happy? “A month ago, I was upstairs talking with Gary, Sid, and that bug that’s obsessed with Kanye, and they said you were getting into Heaven. I told them you didn’t deserve it though.”

“Oh, thank you so much.”

“That’s not even the best part,” Mark said, nudging Ian in the ribs. “I told ‘em you needed someplace else like, oh I don’t know,” Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded up document, “Equestria.”

Ian’s head snapped up and stared at the paper being waved at him. It had to be a joke, there’s no way Mark could do this. Faster than he’d moved in months, Ian snatched the paper away and scanned through it, rereading every word to be sure. At the top left was the identification code for Twilight’s Equestria. Much of the document contained Angel and legal jargon too complicated and meaningless to repeat, but it was real. Somehow Mark had gotten a request for a human life in Equestria, and all it was missing was Ian’s signature. “H-how did…”

“Don’t say I don’t do shit for you,” Mark answered proudly. He smiled as a glint of hope returned to Ian’s eye. “How ‘bout it?”

Ian’s hands were trembling in anticipation. This was a chance to fix everything. But was it the right thing to do? He’d be giving up everything for someone he hadn’t seen for three years, not to mention their terrible parting. “I can’t,” he sighed, dropping it to the floor.

“What!” Mark grabbed the letter and kicked Ian in the foot. “Why the hell not?”

“Because it’s insane, Mark!” His friend was about to yell back, but calmly leaned against the metal doorway and let Ian continue. “I can’t throw my life away for a girl who hates me. It’s been three years. She’ll have moved on by now, and the last thing she needs is me coming back into her life.”

Mark shook his head and eyed a blue female walking down the hallway. “Do you love her?”

“Dude, just go awa-”

“Answer the question asshole. Do you love Twilight Sparkle?”

“I-” Ian rubbed his temple in frustration. “Yes, okay? In a thousand years, she’s the greatest thing I’ve ever met. Happy?”

“Yeah, I am happy,” he smiled and waved to snake slithering past him. “When I saw you with Twilight, I thought you were just doing it to get your rocks off. But after seeing you like,” he gestured to all of Ian, “this, I knew I was wrong. Look dude, I know I give you shit a lot, but we’re friends, that’s what we do.” Mark put his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”

Ian looked into his friend’s eyes, trying to gauge the truth. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.”

“I’m not. You found something to live for, and I want to help you get it back…also I want your room,” he joked. The two had a quick chuckle and sat while Ian thought.

“You know this is still a stupid idea, right?” Ian finally said.

Mark handed his friend the paper and a pen. “No one ever found love without being a little stupid.” What a poetic statement, coming from the man who threw up on a president.

Ian scribbled his name at the bottom of the page, which promptly folded itself up and disintegrated into thin air. Mark slapped him on the back and jumped out the door. Since he was an Angel, and they only had one set of clothes, there was no need to pack, but Ian still had one thing to bring along: the sapphire. He’d kept it hidden from the others for three years as a reminder to be good to the Locals. Ian lifted his mattress and put the stone in his pocket before running out the door.

He hurried after Mark, taking in the splendors of the Angels one last time. The large, triangular hallways were always bustling with Angels going to and fro, and if you weren’t careful, you’d easily be lost. In his first year, Ian spent two days running through these glistening metallic halls, trying to find his room before giving up and sleeping in a bathroom. Apparently it was the females’ bathroom, because he awoke to a woman punching him in the nose. As Ian walked alongside Mark, staring at beam of light running along the ceiling, he realized just how often he got hurt here. Not a month went by during his first century that he hadn’t ‘died’ in some horrible way. He ran a finger along the wall, looking at his refection off the metal, and laughed quietly to himself.

Memories…

The two turned right, down a hallway lined with glass windows on the left side. Ian didn’t stop, but he did look out at the cloudy, multicolored tunnel. Angels armed to the teeth were scattered all around, watching as the gargantuan carcass of a Wabberjack floated in from the rift. Wherever this one had come from, it must have caused some serious havoc. It was larger than the Empire State Building, which, thanks to old movies, Ian could remember. Every Angel on the clouds opened fire as the Demon’s exoskeleton unhinged, releasing a flurry of tentacles in one final, desperate act of defiance. In a matter of moments, however, the Demon was blown into chunks, dead once again. Ian passed the last window before he could see what happened next, not that it mattered. He heard a quick whoosh and knew it had been sent to “The Pit,” an empty universe where captured Demons were stowed.

“We’re almost there,” said Mark, oblivious to the Sarocian walking toward him. Sarocians are large, muscled creatures with the body of a human and the head of a rabbit, and this one, which Mark had nicknamed Donnie, was an ass.

“Good riddance,” he said, shoving Mark against the wall. “Horse fuckers like you have no place here.” Apparently word had already spread of Ian’s departure.

“Funny,” Mark laughed, “because it’s actually my friend Ian who’s leaving.” He punched Donnie in the stomach and shoved him back. “And I resent you calling him a horse fucker.”

Donnie was a racist prick, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that a fight would land both of them in trouble, so, with one last glare at Mark, he walked up to Ian. “Good ri-”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time, now beat it,” interrupted Ian, shooing the pest away. Donnie growled at him and walked away, watching as another Demon came through the rift.

“It’s bigots like him we don’t need,” Mark muttered as they watched Donnie turn a corner. “C’mon, we’re burnin’ daylight.”

The two friends carried on, frequently getting good wishes or disapproving stares. Sarocians, humans, ents, even ponies, all had something to say to Ian. It was comforting, hearing the blessings of so many kind Angels, but after a while, it became tiring. What should have taken less than five minutes was dragging on past ten, and he was anxious to get to Equestria.

“Ugh, finally,” Mark groaned as they approached a large, metal doorway. On the left side was a pedestal where Mark typed in the access code. There was a hiss as the pressure locks disengaged, a series of clinks as the additional locks went down, and the door disappeared into the wall. “Now let’s get this-”

The two screamed in shock as a pale woman slid out of the room, gurgling. The white vestments that hung off her deathly body swayed in an absent breeze. A pink party hat sat atop her head, which hung limply to one side. “Dammit Mary,” Mark panted, trying to sound manly, “how many times’ve we told you not to do that!”

The woman from Bren jerked her hand upward and curled back all but her middle finger. Shortly after meeting Ian, the spirit and her family joined the Angels, which had it pros and cons. They were some of the kindest and most selfless Angels in history, but they also spooked whoever they met. Mary, as everyone called her (since no one could pronounce her real name), certainly didn’t help. Her favorite pastime was haunting any Angel who was mean to her, and also to make Mark scream like a girl.

The corners of Mary’s mouth curved up in a smile as she turned to Ian. She held out her palm, and Ian graciously placed his on top. “Yeah, touching moment,” Mark grumbled, “we should get moving though.” Ian gave Mary one last hug, and gestured for help when he couldn’t get her off.

Once Mark managed to pry Mary away, the three friends walked in and closed the door behind them. The stainless white room was cluttered with cables of various sizes running from the walls to a circular platform at the far end. More cables ran from this platform to a control panel with three screens and hundreds of buttons and dials. Mark walked to the control panel, typed something in, and stood back as the ceiling above the platform opened up. The room hummed and whirred to life as a pyramidal contraption descended over the platform. “Ready when you are,” he said, beckoning Ian to the circle.

Ian walked past his friends and jumped onto the stage. He watched as Mark typed something else into the panel and a blue barrier popped into existence. “Containment shield up,” he said over the intercom as dozens of holographic charts and screens appeared on the barrier. On Ian’s right, a large picture of Ponyville appeared. Mark continued typing and the image changed. “I’m setting you down outside of Ponyville. Y’know,” he said, glancing up, “less trees that way.”

“Why didn’t we do that last time?”

“We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me,” he grinned, running his hand through air as he read each chart. “Alright, we’re good.” With another code typed in, the contraption above Ian started to spin. “Before you can go to Equestria, we need to make you human, so this thing is going to tear you apart at the atomic level, then put you back together.”

“Sounds painful,” said Ian as a three dimensional hologram of him appeared on the barrier.

“Probably,” Mark shrugged. “One last thing: If we ever hear you butcher Guns n’ Roses again, we will be forced to grind you balls into a powder.” Mary nodded in agreement.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ian replied with a thumbs up.

Mark typed in one last thing and rested his finger over the Enter button. “Live long and prosper,” he said as he and Mary gave Ian the Vulcan salute.

“And may the force be with you.”

Mark entered the code and the pyramid pulsed with green. Ian felt a searing pain throughout his body as it was taken apart. Even after his body was gone, he could comprehend the tunnel of lights around him. Clouds of all colors spun around him as he felt his hands rematerialize. He tried to lift his arm to check, but movement was impossible. All he could do was watch as the clouds parted to the edge of the Everfree Forest. He was racing to the earth faster than a bullet until, when he was less than ten feet from the ground, an invisible force gently set him down.

Alright, let’s try this again.