Once again, I couldn't get a hold of Christopher Walken. That guy is one illusive bastard! Anyways, Barack Obama agreed to read it after saying, quote: "Not Bad." So without further ado, Barack Obama!
People of the nation of America, I am happy to read this story.
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"So, do we agree to never speak of whatever the hell we just did on the roof?"
"Agreed. So, how much longer is this trip going to take?" Dovahkiin was standing on the bed, for what reason, nopony knew. Twiman was sitting on Discord's head, between his two horns. Somehow, he didn't even notice.
"We're almost there. I mean seriously, we've been on this train for two chapters." Twiman stretched her neck across the cabin next to Dovahkiin's ear, where it landed perfectly in a construction hat. "I think the writer is stalling."
"Ugh, who? We're not in a book, Twiman." Dovahkiin pushed the pony away from his head. Discord picked the construction hat off the pony and with a shrug ate it.
"Silly, he's right there!" Twiman pointed past the Dovahkiin at Ghostwriter 95, who was drinking a glass bottle of coca-cola while typing like a mad man with his right hand. He looked up at Twiman, and whispered, while leaning in.
"So you see me? Come at me, bro. We shall party! I have alcohol!"
"See? He's talking to me!" Everypony simply stared at Twiman with a bewildered look on their faces.
"Shh, shh... They need not know of our forbidden love, Ms. Twiman."
"But... They don't believe me!"
"I know, I know... But I have power over them! You see, I have my typing hand!" All of the ponies expressions changed to that of belief. (Is that even a facial expression?!)
"Oh, we believe you... We still can't see him though." What? I only have so much power... Can't just give them the ability to see past the fourth wall!
"There you go, my dear Twiman."
"Ugh, Discord can hear us." Discord in fact could hear the conversation between Ghostwriter95 and Twiman. How awkward...
"I smell a wedding!" He appeared next to the writer on his couch, causing him to fall on the ground flailing his arms like Kermit the frog. How he was still typing, nobody knows.
"Oh, I have the most fabulous suit you could wear!" Discord snapped his finger and teleported the writer back onto the couch.
"Hey, I'm the main character of this story!"
"Shut up, Dovahkiin. I'm the writer, let me have a bit of the spot light!" Unfortunately, the writer knew the Dovahkiin couldn't hear him... Still, he told him to shut up anyways. Why he didn't have Twiman tell him, only he knew. But he will never part with that information!
"Yes, you'd look splendid in it! Here, let's go try it out..." With a snap of his tail fingers, the writer and Discord were both teleported to the train, much to everypony's surprise.
"Uh... Hey there. I like your show." If the writer could have gotten even more awkward, it would have put Snips and Snails to shame... That and that one nerdy pony that Rarity seduced in Putting Your Hoof Down. On a side note, how many fourth wall breaking comments am I going to write? How many of them will be questions? Will I ever get answers?
"Oh sweet Celestia!" Rarity began to examine over the writer. His attire was composed of a Radiohead shirt and some jeans, his face was average with a slight and mustache prevalent. His brown hair was a length to where it stopped right under his eyes and it was straighter than Rainbow Dash on the weekdays. And it was parted to the right, from the left. It looked like a straighter version of Anthony Padilla's hair from Smosh. "Your attire is TERRIBLE!" The writer stiffened as he realized he never wrote about Applejack and Rarity's hair adventure. So now there was a continuity error... Seriously, what did they do in the time from the time they finished Rarity's hair and this moment? I'll let you hate me for that...
"Yeah, I don't have many clothes. Well, I do, but I like to wear the same thing over and over again." The ponies glared at the writer with disgust on their faces. "What? I wash them every night. Least I don't go around naked like you all!" Oh, Ghostwriter 95, NO! Never say that...
"Girls, let's kill him." The ponies and Dovahkiin all converged on the writer and prepared to give a stomping equivalent to the stomp scene of Don't Be A Menace To South Central While Drinking Your Juice In The Hood.
"Kill me and your world disappears!" They all immediately realized that he was indeed the writer.
"Damn... Fine. Discord, teleport him back."
"Oh, come on! Stomp him! Do SOMETHING!" The ponies stared at Discord. "Fine... But you all have to agree to stomp something -besides me- later."
"Aww...." The ponies all said in unison.
"Hey, while I'm here... HEY EVERYBODY! THANK YOU FOR ENJOYING THE STORY!"
"Shut up, Ghostwriter95." The writer pulled the okay face as Discord compressed him into a ball and tossed him back onto the couch. He cried a little inside as he realized he didn't get a chance to touch Princess Molestia's flank. Oh well...
"So, do you all believe me now?"
"Yes, sorry Twiman."
"Hey, can I please go back to being the main character of this story?" The Dovahkiin's eyes were teary as he was overshadowed by the author's appearance. Discord popped through the authors laptop screen
"Can you believe this guy?" He popped back into the world and pulled flowers out of the Dovahkiin's helmet and handed them to him. Fluttershy pulled out a large pill a bit bigger than the one she gave to Philomeena.
"Here, you can take this for your butt-hurt! It's a suppository." She tossed the pill to the Dovahkiin. Unfortunately, it got intercepted by Discord who placed it into Twiman's mane for later use. Never know when you might need a butt-hurt pill!
"Hey, everypony! We're finally at Canterlot." Twiman was jumping up and down in front of the window. "Looks like the writer finally stopped stalling." Everyone sighed happily as the ridiculously train ride ended. The group stepped out onto the platform and breathed in the fresh air.
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Meanwhile, just now getting to Canterlot after walking, the mysterious mare that inexplicably hates the Dovahkiin was walking towards the train station.
"Getting graped hurts... Bad. I'll make you pay for that Dovahkiin! Even though you didn't do it..." Eerie music played as she walked evilly towards the Dovahkiin. Now, should I finally reveal who the mare is? Nah, I think I'll continue to troll you...
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It was a pleasure to read this story, citizens of, The united states, of America. God Molestia bless the United States of America.
Okay, Obama... Get on out of here. Get. Now, time to continue to magnificent search for Christopher Walken...