Someone Call Piers Morgan
The Mysterious Stranger sat in his Mysterious Apartment, wondering what to do with his life. He twirled his Mysterious .44 Magnum Revolver around in his Mysterious Hand, discharging a few rounds at random. One hit him in his Mysterious Thigh, but he didn't notice.
After his role in Fallout: New Vegas, the Mysterious Stranger was having problems finding work. No one seemed to have need for a gunslinger of the Mysterious variety anymore.
He had a long, hard mental soliloquy about his life. Finally, a conclusion was reached on what he should do next.
He snapped his fingers, and a portal appeared.
Being a Mysterious Being had advantages; since no one knew anything about him, no one knew what he could or could not do. Even the Universe was unaware if his capabilities. Therefore, no natural laws bound him. He could do anything he wanted.
The portal still hovered in front of him.
The Mysterious Stranger donned his sunglasses, holstered his revolver, and limped into the portal.
***
Pinkie Pie sat in a tree, watching.
Waiting.
Her determination was so great that she barely dared to move.
Ooh, look, a portal.
She sprang from the tree, towards the portal.
As she hopped along, Pinkie noticed a figure emerge from the vortex. He wore a tan overcoat, sunglasses, and a fedora; as she watched, the figure reached into his coat and pulled out a shiny metal thing. It almost looked like a boomerang, except it was all silvery on one end, and black on the other.
He looked around and saw her. He smiled.
"Hello there," he said. "How do you fare on this fine morning?"
"Just dandy!" Pinkie replied. "How are you?"
"The best I've felt in years," he said. "I'm the Mysterious Stranger."
"Are you?... You don't seem very mysterious. You're not even wearing a mask. Every mysterious person needs to wear a mask!"
The creature snapped its fingers and a ski-mask appeared on its face.
"Ooh, now you're mysterious."
"I'm here to offer you something, Pinkie Pie," he said, and held out his shiny thingy. "This is called a gun. You'll find out what it does here in a moment."
He pointed the longer, shiny end of the "gun" under his jaw.
"They used to call me Prophet," he said. "Remember me."
He pulled a small tab on the underside of the gun. There was a loud noise, like thunder, and the top of the Mysterious Stranger's head exploded outwards, sending red liquid and bits of gray matter everywhere.
The creature collapsed.
What.
The.
Heck.
This "gun"... If it did that to everyone... The only explanation was...
This was a pranking-device.
It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She quickly devised how it worked: The gun produced a blast of magic which incapacitated the target temporarily, causing party favors to burst out, albeit strange ones. As she surveyed the strange red liquid, she saw no real value to it. It tasted bitter, almost metallic.
But hey, to each his own.
She used her mouth to pry the gun from the sleeping creature's graspers and set it on the ground. Upon closer observation, she could see that this device was much more complex than she'd imagined. She pressed a small button on the side, and a small cylinder popped out, containing six of what she could only guess were sleeping pills. So it wasn't magic; simply high-velocity pills. One of the pills was missing an end; that must have been the part that was launched. That meant she only had five pills left.
She picked the gun up again, gripping the black part in her mouth the way that the Mysterious Stranger had done with his graspers. She worked her tongue into the whole that contained the shooting-tab, and pulled it. When it didn't budge, she doubled her efforts, and was surprised when the tab moved suddenly and the gun discharged. It kicked back, turning itself around in her mouth, hitting her jaw bone. It hurt like a bugger, but the experience delighted her. She'd just need to grip it harder.
Four pills left.
Now, who was somepony who would appreciate her pranking as much as Pinkie herself did?...
Of course!...
Rainbow Dash!
Still gripping the gun, she hopped towards Ponyville.
***
There she was. The Pegasus was relaxing on a low-hanging cloud, face buried in the fluff.
She'd never see it coming.
The gun was becoming quite heavy, and Pinkie had to concentrate to line up her shot. She hid in a patch of bushes her head barely poked out, and she'd smeared some mud on her face to better blend in.
Pinkie held her breath, forcing herself to keep perfectly still. Without moving anything other than her tongue, she worked the tab until it jerked back once more and the pill discharged. Her head whipped around with the force of the recoil, but the shot was lined up perfectly.
The pill went through the bottom of the cloud, making a small puff noise. She heard a muffled yelp as Rainbow Dash fell from the cloud and into the branches of a tree. Pinkie could see some of the red liquid-party-favor dripping down from the cloud, and from the tree's leaves.
Mission accomplished.
Who next?...
No doubt Rainbow Dash would take it pretty well, being a master prankstress herself. But half the fun of a successful prank was the indignant anger of the recipient.
And who had the most dramatic attitude of anyone?...
Rarity.
***
Sneaking into the air-vents of Rarity's boutique had been quite difficult; the space was one of the smallest she'd ever had to squeeze into. But it was all going to be worth it; she worked herself over to one of the vents in the design room. It was common knowledge that Rarity spent countless hours in this room every day, poring over her previous designs or drafting new ones.
Sure enough, after five minutes or so, Rarity appeared. It was all Pinkie could do to keep from giggling in her excitement.
Rarity looked around the room, as if sensing that something was amiss in her meticulously monitored design room, but shook her head and hunched over her drafting table.
Pinkie slid the end of the gun through the shutters of the vent, which were just wide enough to accommodate. She worked her body up so that the gun was pointing downward, toward Rarity. The limited room in the vent only allowed for Pinkie to aim at the flank, not the head or neck as Pinkie would have preferred. But no matter; it would still give her quite a shock.
Pinkie steadied herself again, lined up her shot, and worked the firing-tab back with her tongue. It jerked, and the gun discharged. It hit Rarity's flank in an explosion of red party-favors, sending her careening backwards onto the floor. She writhed and screamed in what Pinkie guessed was shock. Apparently one pill wasn't enough, of she'd been hit in the wrong place.
Still, Rarity screamed, and the liquid poured out.
Jeez, what a drama queen.
Rarity's head was in her line of sight now, and she lined up her shot. She pulled the tab once more, the gun clanging against the metal vent as the recoil drove it sideways. This time the pill hit Rarity in the head; the liquid went everywhere, along with the same lumps of grey stuff she'd seen with the Mysterious Stranger, or Prophet, or whoever he was. Rarity went still.
Sweet Celestia, the stuff was everywhere.
And Rarity...
Her head...
Looking down, Pinkie realized that Rarity's head was gone. Well, not gone, just kind of expanded and scattered around the room. But that was irrelevant. Rarity was... Dead.
Pinkie realized that she was dealing with a power far greater than that of simple pranks.
It also meant she had killed Rainbow Dash.
The horror of what she had done dawned on Pinkie; she had pranked in evil, and by the Prankster's Code, she must be eliminated.
Right now there were probably ponies from the FPA (Federal Pranking Association) tracking her every move, waiting to swoop down on her and deliver a prank so malicious and powerful that she would beg for the sweet release of death. And they would give it to her.
She wouldn't give the the satisfaction.
She made the decision in a split second.
Bracing the black end of the gun against the vent, she put the other end in her mouth.
She would have the last laugh here, she swore it.
"They used to call me Pinkie," she called to the world. "Remember me."
She forced the end of her hoof into the small ring that contained the tab, and pushed it back.
Click.
This was new.
She pushed it back again.
Click.
What?...
She took the end of the gun out of her mouth and turned it around, putting the black end in the way she had before. She worked her tongue into the opening and pulled the tab.
Click.
Once more.
Click.
She was frustrated, and pulled the trigger twice in succession.
Click BLAM!
The gun spun in her jaw and hit the back of her throat, along with her jawbone again. She gagged and spit out blood.
No shots left.
FUCK.
