I told you to go right

The train arrived in Crowme at about 5:00AM. All of the stallions on board all 80 carriages we had collected piled into the underground facility as fast as possible, before we sealed ourselves in. We had a large quantity of food, enchanted gardens for vegetables and plants and shit, and a reasonably unnecessarily large supply of ammunition and weapons. However, just as Whooves was due to address the crowds of stallions, an unfortunately familiar golden flash appeared, and the quiet whap of a scroll landing on my head could easily be heard through the deathly silence. Carefully, I picked up the Royally Branded scroll, unrolled it, and began to read aloud.

"Thunder," I began, reading out to the crowds, "I am well aware of what you are planning. It is a foolish plan, and has failed multiple times in the past. Give up." I paused, and flipped the letter over. That was all the text?

"That's it?" Whooves asked. I nodded, and prepared to write my response letter.

"Right, now to do something I always wanted to do." I grinned. "SPIKE!" As if on cue, the young dragon hopped up the stairs to the balcony with a quill and scroll in his claws. He tagged along because he wanted to be seen as 'mature', but it was unlikely he had any idea what this was all really about.

"Yessir!" he said excitedly. I heard flutes playing in the background.

"Dear Princess Celestia..." I began. Then I paused, and so did the music that appeared. It was immediately replaced with some casual jazz music as I thought about how to REALLY grind her gears together. "Hold on, rub out 'Celestia' and write 'Trollestia'. WAIT! 'Molestia!' That's the one! Write that!" The dragon laughed, as did every stallion on the floor below. "Right then. OK, you ready Spike? Good. Write this; Take a massive shotgun, put it in your burning vagina, and then pull the trigger. That'll satiate your lust for stallions." The laughter below was mixed with with 'ohhh's of cringes as stallions pictured that. "We're not going back. The laws are unfair, you're unfair, mares are unfair, so we're being unfair. Whooves, anything to add?" I asked the brown stallion.

"Yes, of course!" he beamed. "Right then. Doctor Whooves speaking, Princess. I'm from where Thunder is. But, I'm like, a Time Lird. Wibbly Wobbly and what-not. Anyway, I'm just cutting in to remind you we're incredibly well-armed. We're in a facility outside Equestria, and said facility is full of guns, and said guns will, most likely, happily be operated by the Assassins, Rogues, Combat Medics, Pyromaniacs, and Psychologically-Unstable Stallions we have with us, not to mention countless more. So any attempt to capture us will, probably, result in a barrage of syringes, hostages situations, and a point in which one of us walks out, probably thunder, who then trots up to you in the middle of a field as both sides stare each other down, and he goes against your order to stand down, but he doesn't know that Luna still loves him. She tries coming to the front line, but is stopped by female guards, who only let her past after hearing of her plight and they say 'Go get him, girl' in spite of the security measures put in place to protect her after the attack on Canterlot, and then you speak to Thunder as music plays in the background, and then he cries, and agrees to marry you, and then this all blows over." Everybody stared blankly at him, and he experienced an unfortunate accident where he fell down the stairs and was in no way shoved violently with a sledgehammer.

"Thunder here, Celestia." I cut in after Doctor's accident. Spike seemed relieved. "That shit written above is, like, Whooves' fantasy for a movie they should make. Sounds good, just needs a few script tweaks and what-not, but anyway, we're not going back until Estrus is over. Anybody coming in will be kept hostage until you meet our demands. Auf Wiedersehn, Schweinhunde." I grinned. Spike lowered his quill in confusion. "Fuck you, then." Spike happily wrote that. "Send it away, Spike!"

"Alrighty!" he replied cheerfully, before blowing the scroll into ashes and sending it on its way. The room was in silence.

"What do we do now?" somebody asked. I considered this.

"Who wants to practice the art of murder?" I asked. A fair few hooves shot up. "Right then. Any assassins, let's get to teaching the new security force."

We received many petitions over the next week. All were saying 'we want satisfaction' with eleventy squillion signatures on each one, to which we usually replied with some demand, or song reference. Faith and I became very good friends, usually meeting up outside the facility exit for some late-night free-running, and sometimes the conversations when we sat beside each other looking at the sky at night got pretty awkward. At some point we ended up looking into each other's eyes and seeing ~~oblivion~~ something worth staring at for a bunch of seconds and leaning closer, until we both either panicked, or slapped ourselves, or both. She still, like Cadence, had an amazing body, and was pretty young, and was easily friendzoning me. I was destined to live in the friendzone.

Back on Earth I was always friendzoned. It was good, no female attention, no...bloody...'dates' to go on, don't have to spend money, and get hugs for no reason. Sweet. Most I had ever been friendzoned by at once was about 15 girls by them being a bunch of US tourists who liked my hat and were very annoying, but had nice boonies and that's what matters. I was creeped out when they hugged me, but then I mentioned it on a Skype call and was a God amongst men. But now I was getting friendzoned by an athletic, like-minded, internet savvy girl with an amazing backstory, amazing ass, and was pretty much my best friend beside Thunderlane.

Damn.