Q&A Interview with the Barcast · 6:27am Nov 26th, 2018

This weekend I'll be featured on the Barcast. For those who have never heard of them before, it's a group running podcast where they interview pony related people. From fanfiction writers, 4Chan Cup team managers for the /MLP/ team, to Voice Actors from the show.
They have a few places you can check them out on, the live stream being on Twitch before it's uploaded to YouTube and a few other platforms.

Anyway, the thing with the Barcast is that YOU ask the questions. If you have any questions for me or shitposting you'd like to do then head over to this thread to ask away: https://www.fimfiction.net/group/212308/the-barcast/thread/383416/eighth-12-1-18-saturday-barcast

It'll be at 4:00pm PST on the 1st of December. But if you don't live in the past and need to convert that, you can go here.

I just hope I'll recover from the traumatic invitation by then. What happened you might not have asked? Well let me tell you the tale of how the Barcast asked me to come on.

Every word of this tale I am about to tell is true.
Even I am still in disbelief but I swear it all.
And perhaps you'll believe me when I tell it to you.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore — there happened a knock upon my door. I went to go see who it could possibly be at such an ungodly hour.

I gazed through the look out glass in the door to see a silhouetted figure standing there. The dark shadows of the night and my verandah blocked what little light there was to see any distinguishing details. I turned on the light to see a woman, her stare locked onto her end of the lookout as if she could see my eyes watching her. Brown hair and a bottle in hand, her stare was icy enough to send a shiver down my spine.

"Would you happen to be 8th?" Her voice echoed in the lonely night.

"Yes?" I replied, hoping the door muffled the creaky tremble in my voice.

"I apologise for the hour, timezones you see."

"Yeah," I answer this time chastising myself for my wariness before opening the door.

"Drink?" She asks, proffering the large bottle of what was unmistakably wine.

Any normal and sane person would never take up such an offer. This I know. However, most regrettably, I am Australian and unable to resist my almost vampiric lust for alcoholic beverages, I took a drink.

"May we come in?" She asks.

"We?"

I look behind her into the dark and only just now see several more figures. My heart nearly leaps into my throat as I nearly start into a panic. All of them stand off into the shadows makes them seem all the more menacing and sinister.

"No," I gulp with unease, "Look, is there something you need?"

"We just want to ask you a few questions." Her tone was cold and a little slurred.

"Perhaps another time," I laugh nervously, "It is getting rather late."

With the door now closed followed by the comforting click of the lock, I take a sigh of relief. That's when I noticed my breath was laboured so I steadied myself on a nearby chair in the dining area.

I take a few deep breaths as I try to calm down when I hear a noise from somewhere deeper in my house. Leaping to my feet, my heart racing, I tried to focus my senses. The sound was distant but sounded like marching and something in German. My German being very rusty I caught something about "werfing flammen" but nothing more.

Suddenly a bright and sudden light flicked on, throwing me off so much that I tumbled back into my chair. I squinted at its harsh glow trying to make out whether someone or something was there. There, I could make out the man that looked like a priest, the light behind him seeming to give a holy aura. Only he wore yellow robes with a pink clerical collar. It would have brought to mind Fluttershy if it weren't for the Princess Cadence plush sitting atop his head.

Trying to summon some courage, I attempted to make light of the situation, "What's with the Fluttershy colours but the Cadence plush?"

The priest's eye twitched so I quickly retracted my question and sat quietly for him to speak.

"CONFESS," he bellows in a voice like the thundering of mountains, startling me once again.

"I once had impure thoughts over a nun," I blurted, " I'm sorry, Father."

He stared at me for a time then raised a single brow.

"I think it has to to with to forbidden nature of it. I'm not entirely sure--" I add, desperate to fill the silence before cutting myself off.

The holy man looked back as a large man tapped him on his shoulder. The two exchanged a nod so he stepped away and the large man with a majestic beard stepped forward. He was like a large bear; big, solid and hairy. He had the kind of build that made you want to rub him down with baby oil and wrestle. He took a seat across from me, sliding across a glass of some kind of white liquid. It seemed like milk but you can never be too sure, but then again it could be alcoholic so I cautiously gave it a sniff.

"Full cream, A2. Homogenised and pasteurised but with no additives or permeate," the burly bear man says.

I nod and drink the whole glass.

He slides across another.

"Skim and calcium enriched," she gestures for me to drink.

"I... I don't understand."

"1 cup of that milk is your daily serving of dairy," he nods.

"Ok, but--" I sigh and resign quickly. Eager to get this over with and work out what is going on, I drink it.

Then there is another.

"Strawberry," he smiles.

"Please, no more," I say as I begin to sob at this form of cruel and very unusual torture.

"It's high in calcium."

"Uh, guys, I think we're--" says a new voice from behind the group.

The bear man, woman, and the priest all turn around to shout, "SHUT UP ENGIMA!"

This silences the new man before their gazes all return to me. Then enters another new man.

"Let me handle this. Hi, I'm Alex_."

"Uh, G'Day Alex," I reply with milky tears while the skeleton inside me laughs at the overdose of calcium.

"It's Alex_."

"Oh, so I have to say the _?"

Alex_ nods.

"Got it."

There's a moment of silence as Alex_ waits for something. Once I clue in, I finally stammer out, "G'Day Alex_."

"Thank you. Now, you've already met AnonPencil, FlutterPriest, Milk, Enigma, and Ravij. Flammenwerfer should be around here somewhere, I think he's finishing up his daily marching."

I count the names as he points to each and try to count the group in front of me falling short two. This Flammenwerfer is AWOL apparently so I ask about the final member. Alex_ points behind me to who much be Ravij. Ravij is hunched over a drawing pad, furiously drawing all manner of things. From strange pony OCs to scenes he is seeing, all in different styles from Picasso to Vincent van Gogh to show off his artistic genius. He sticks each one on the wall as he finishes before going back to drawing. The latest of me in my cork hat with my Vegemite facial mask and kiwi slices over my eyes during a spa day.

"Right. Just tell me what you want," finally caving in.

"All we want is to ask you a few questions," Alex_ says warmly, but I could tell there was something sinister behind those pitch black eyes.

"O-Ok."

"The pact is sealed," they all say in unison before disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

I'm left confused there for a while, coughing and spluttering before I notice a piece of paper on the floor. I pick it up, to which it reads:

(7pm -5 GMT) (6pm -6 GMT) (5pm -7 GMT) (4pm -8 GMT)
Be there, or be square. Cunt.