Posh's Story Reviews: Folio the First · 2:38am Sep 4th, 2021
I, Posh, have been inactive of late. Astonishingly inactive. The speed at which my fingers, so nimble and dexterous they, have flown across my board of letters has diminished significantly in recent days. Am I to blame the stars for my declining output? Arthritis? The vile social justice warriors injecting their odious “””politicseses”””””””””” into the media I consume?
The answer... is yes.
To all of them.
But I’m looking to rectify that. Like Tony Montana rebuilding his drug empire in the Nintendo Wii game sequel to the film Scarface, I am going to rise back on top and spread all over Fimfiction my name. And the best way to do that is by becoming a tedious review blog.
Needless to say, as a critic, I, Posh, have a keen and well-honed eyelens (patent pending) which can discern the true quality of any and all pieces of media, whether written, painted, coded, or etched into slow-drying sidewalk pavement. From today, onward, I will share that lens by dredging my eyeballs through the great works of literature (horse pun pending), and offering my unsolicited insights into their meaning.
Now, many review blogs give their stories numerical scores based on well-defined criteria, but I find such things beneath me. I will instead use a complex critical process to review these stories, something far too deep and intense for the simple minds of both the hoi polloi to grasp, no matter if they be polloi or hoi.
Ultimately, though, a story’s final rating will hinge on one piece of criteria, which I will elect to share with you:
Could the protagonist have prevented the fall of the Byzantine Empire?
This will play a disproportionate role in the final outcome.
But enough of my prattle (witful and witty though it may be). I now begin the process of separating the wheat from the chaff, the strong from the week, the foam from the beer, the clarified butter from the milk fat. We begin.
Stories To Be Stripped Bare And Laid Upon The Earth For All To See
Glimpses 2: The Squeakwel, by Ben Stark
Twilight Gets Worms, by Admirable Biscotti
Hope and the Horizon, by Lysanderoth
Little Slice of Heaven, by Flutterpastor
I’m Celestia now?! by Mitten in der Stadt
“Glimpses 2” is the squeakwel to “Glimpses: Past Sins,” an early fandom classic in which Twilight Sparkle kidnaps a young filly, Ixnay, from a Catholic orphanage, and forces her to participate in a grueling cup-stacking competition. As an allegory for the Marshall Plan and Berlin Airlift, it’s quite compelling, but on its own merits, it leaves me hungry for more. The squeakwel picks up where the first story left off, with Ixnay cloning herself into multiple doppelgangers who then proceed to stare, intensely, at things. Yes, you’re guessing right: It’s based on The Men Who Stare At Goats.
The story surely lives up to its name, as we can see from the cover art: The characters do Glimpse, and they do so quite well. However, the manner in which they Glimpse has me feeling somewhat unsettled. Their expressions run the gamut from bemusement, to festering rage, to quiet, melancholic contentment. One gets the impression from reading this story that the Ixnays have Glimpsed, indeed, the audience’s very soul. Do these mares know the precise date and time of my death? And if so, why does my dying arouse such different reactions from them? It’s a peculiar question, and it leaves the reader somewhat troubled for many days afterward.
Should you read Glimpses 2: The Squeakwel? I think so. It’s important to be reminded of life’s ephemeral nature, and the many Ixnays make for a diverse and compelling experience. Just make sure you don’t cross any streets for a while afterward. Err on the side of caution.
Score Sheet:
Stench: 12
Zestfulness: 40
Cheesy Discharge: 18
Grumpling: 9
Odious Trimmings: Not enough information to discern.
Could the protagonist have prevented the fall of Byzantium? I do not believe so, no. While the characters are capable of Glimpsing, the story leaves it unclear as to whether or not they are capable of Acting, so I have doubts that they could have taken any meaningful action to prevent the Ottoman advance.
Final Score: 
The first thing you will notice upon booting up this story is that the character on the cover art is not Twilight Sparkle. Rather, it is Nurse Redheart, a minor background character who first came to prominence in the 2012 season of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.
I was flummoxed when I saw this. The contrast between the character I have been told stars in the story, and the character featuring on the cover, gave me a severe case of whiplash, causing me to develop hives along my left wrist, running up to my bicep. I scratched myself intensely as I sprinted to my local Smart and Final to purchase antihistamines, only to find a picket line at the front! Unwilling as I was to cross the picket line, I returned home; by then the hives had spread to the lower quarter of my left side, leaving me in a terrible state. My industrial strength shipment of lotion is on its way, but in the meanwhile, I suffer and languish.
Are there even worms in this story?! I shudder to even think of finding out.
Score Sheet:
Stench: 7
Zestfulness: 29
Cheesy Discharge: 0.009
Grumpling: I couldn’t spot any, no.
Odious Trimmings: 8 x 10^20
Could the protagonist have prevented the fall of Byzantium? There is no way to know. Who is the protagonist, even?
Final Score: The rain will come, but you will not be clean.
“This pony wants to step on my penis.” That was the first thought that crossed my mind when I glimpsed the cover art to this piece of fiction.
It took a moment to process it all.
Why, I wondered, didn’t this story end in obvious tragedy? Being unprepared to begin with, I didn’t expect the writers to pitch such a warped scenario. Something about the sourness of the cover art, as that sinister-looking pony presumably hoofs with the confident, if ragged smile of the depressed, instantly reminded me of that feeling a sixth-grader experiences on the last day of school before summer break. With some kind of onset of anxiety, he walks around the building crying and blowing raspberries, trying his best to be invisible.
Meanwhile the teacher walks down the hall and tells the girl who is tutoring him that if the boy is going to reject her today, she can have her pick of all of his friends. As so often occurs with puberty-driven obsessions and OCD in children, the sixth-grader pulls the wool over the librarian’s eyes and causes her grief.
It’s sickening.
Score Sheet:
Stench: 33
Zestfulness: 11
Cheesy Discharge: 40
Grumpling: 98
Odious Trimmings: Yeah
Could the protagonist have prevented the fall of Byzantium? Yes, with their penis-stomping abilities. The Sultan and his Janissaries would think twice before contending with this protag, mighty though their codpieces may be.
Final Score: An unpassed kidney stone is caught in my urethra. Aaaaaaaugh!
This story purports to be about a “pizza-pony.” I found this description actively insulting, actively demeaning, actively belittling, and unsettling (though, only inactively so). As many people do when they are young, I experienced puberty: The growth of mysterious hair, the lengthening of limb and torso, the endeepening of my vocal chords, and the enlargening of one’s genitals (this should explain further my discomfort at the previous story reviewed here). As part of this growth, I experienced the pains and perils of acne vulgaris, a common skin condition for which there is sadly no cure, beyond removal of the skin. So afflicted was I that my skin secreted grease and oil in great, dripping strands; I constantly drizzled and dripped thin strands of sebaceous fluid like the trickle of hot fudge at a buffet’s ice cream bar, leaving behind a trail of grimy fluid wherever I went.
And my face was covered, covered, in unsightly pustules, great white and black-capped mounds of red, swollen flesh. I quite resembled, you guessed it, a well-made pepperoni pizza. My peers noticed, as well, and the nickname “The Boy With The Pepperoni On His Cheeks,” followed me everywhere, like the sebaceous trail I left behind (see the previous paragraph for more information).
You can see now why I am so offended with Fluttery Goodness, I’m sure. Fetishizing skin conditions, like acne vulgaris, is incredibly harmful to the fabric of democracy, and will lead to hundreds of thousands of murders of pimply-faced innocents per day. I call on the media to censure Flutterbishop; ask not for whom the cancel culture tolls, it tolls for thee.
Score Sheet:
Stench: Appalling
Zestfulness: 25
Cheesy Discharge: Surprisingly, very low.
Grumpling: 112
Odious Trimmings: Anchovies. The most odious of trimmings. This also informs the Stench score.
Could the protagonist have prevented the fall of Byzantium? While cheese-topped flatbreads date back to before the common era, what we know of today as “pizza” seems to have developed during the 19th-20th centuries, well past the fall of Constantinople. So, regrettably, there is no way for this hero to have prevented the final death of this sad, vestigial realm.
Final Score: Δώστε πίτσα ΠΙΤΣΑ Δώστε πίτσα ΠΙΤΣΑ ώρα αισθανόμαστε πεινασμένοι Πήραμε μεγάλα μανίκια Timeρα να φτιάξουμε την πίτσα μας Τόσο μεγάλη όσο κάποιες χώρες Πόση πίτσα νομίζετε ότι μπορούμε να πίνουμε; Περισσότερα από όσα θα επέτρεπαν ποτέ οι γονείς μας! Θα φτιάξουμε ένα αριστούργημα πίτσας Ένα έργο τέχνης όπως η Μόνα Λίζα Θα είναι ψηλά σαν τον Πύργο της Πίζας Αλλά για να φτάσει εκεί Δεν χρειάζεστε βίζα! [Χορωδία 2] Πίτσα, P-I-Z-Z-A Δώστε πίτσα Εμ, έτυχε να πω; Θέλω πίτσα. ΠΙΤΣΑ θέλω πίτσα Γεια! Είσαι έτοιμος να παίξεις? [Στίχος 3] Τώρα άφησε την πίτσα και φέρε μου κοτόπουλο Ρίξτε το από πάνω και κάντε το δάχτυλο να γλείφει Γκουακαμόλε, κεφτεδάκια, σαντιγί που ξεχύνονται σαν καταρράκτες Εδώ είναι μια μικρή σάλτσα για να ζεσταθεί Εδώ είναι πολύ παγωτό για να φτάσετε στο σημείο Πετάξτε το ψάρι, αφήστε το να πετάξει Πετάξτε, πετάξτε, πίτα πίτσας [Χορωδία 3] Πίτσα, P-I-Z-Z-A Δώστε πίτσα Δείτε το να ανεβαίνει σαν σουφλέ Δώστε πίτσα. ΠΙΤΣΑ θέλω πίτσα Πιστεύετε ότι πρέπει να σταματήσουμε; Με τιποτα! [Στίχος 4] Βάλτε τα μοτέρ σας σε λειτουργία, γιατί πάμε Σάλτσα σοκολάτας, απλώνοντας την αργά Ωρεοί! Marshmallows! Κρέμα καρύδας καρύδας Αυγό foo νεαρό, γλώσσα κοτόπουλου Κρατήστε τους βολβούς των ματιών. Θα ουρλιάξω! Τώρα μην ξεχνάτε το ρύζι και τον πουρέ πατάτας Και τι γίνεται με αυτές τις τηγανητές πράσινες ντομάτες; Το Batter is up, το catcher είναι έτοιμο 1-2-3-4-5 ... μακαρόνια! [Γέφυρα] Ζυμαρικά! Βάλτε το στην πίτσα Icksαράκια! Βάλτε το στην πίτσα Κέτσαπ! Βάλτε το στην πίτσα Ρολό κιμά! ... Α, βάλε το στην πίτσα [Χορωδία 4] Πίτσα, P-I-Z-Z-A Δώστε πίτσα Προσθέστε μερικά tacos, olé! Θέλω πίτσα. ΠΙΤΣΑ θέλω πίτσα Καλέστε μας τις βασίλισσες των γκουρμέ Θέλω πίτσα. ΠΙΤΣΑ Δώστε πίτσα Πόσο ζυγίζει? Θέλω πίτσα. ΠΙΤΣΑ θέλω πίτσα Τελικά έγινε; ΖΗΤΩ! Εδώ είναι Έτοιμο για σερβίρισμα Αυτή η πίτσα είναι φτιαγμένη, ΝΑΙ!
This story seems confused about its own premise. The title, itself, asks if the protagonist is Celestia now. It expects me to know that. For it. And I’m sitting here, like. “I don’t know. Are you?” I really shouldn’t have to do this story’s thinking for it. Imagine the sense of entitlement someone must have to write a piece of fiction, and then demand that the reader tell them who, or what, the protagonist is.
I have similar feelings toward the song “Sympathy for the Devil.” Man of wealth and taste, my ass. “Won’t you guess my name?” Uh, if you’re worth half a thimble of human semen, you’d just tell me what your name is. If you’re not telling me, then it must not be a very good name, in which case, why should I care? Why should anyone care who you are? Douche. Pretentious douche.
Fuck. I’m pissed now. I need to snort some cocaine (I cut it with powdered sugar and pancake batter)
Score Sheet:
Stench: HYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEERGH!!!!
Zestfulness: SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cheesy Discharge: HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MAMA THAT’S THE GOOD SHIT RIGHT THERE THAT PUTS HAIR ON YOUR BALLS
Grumpling: ah fuck, I’m comin’ down.
Odious Trimmings: I wanna be an architect.
Could the protagonist have prevented the fall of Byzantium? I don’t know. Celestia could have, though. Gosh, if only she were here.
Final score: Ten thousand a kilo.
That does it for our first round of reviews. Assuming my metabolism doesn’t implode from the cocktail of substances that just went up my nose, you may join me again next week as I look at five more stories.
Henshin! Posh: Truck Mode Activate! *transforms into a gas-guzzling flatbed and slowly churns off into the distance*
In what world is Watchdogs 2 on the same tier as Papers, Please?
…cheesy… discharge
5577342 uh, they’re both completely apolitical? Duh.
I...don't get half of what is happening here. Keep it that way, please.
5577348
Oh I misread
I'm a YuGiOh player, you have to understand
And Raft, of course.
Metal Gear, nice!
5577409
5577348
will you two just make out already
5577427
I am trying, but he needs to meet me halfway.
This is, and I cannot emphasize this enough, a thing. I hope to see more, possibly with completely different scoring metrics.
Posh, what
and why does the Greek rhyme when translated to English???
5577348
I- but-
Look, I recognize this is almost definitely a joke, in fact, I almost guarantee it is - but stranger things have been said in complete seriousness online, and if I don't at least respond to this I won't sleep easy at night. forgive me (if this was indeed a joke) for this. I know extreme responses online are a dime a dozen, and to be quite honest I'm not even sure why I'm doing this - I got here from reading about a pizza pony fanfic for crying out loud.
TLDR: They're both very very political.
Not TLDR:
"Apolitical" in games usually means "has politics I want to hear about and agree with" - because you can't escape politics. policies and political ideologies affect and are in turn affected by every conceivable object and thing we know and perceive, from air, to that one image in the gallery that's a little bit interesting - in some way or another. I know some who respond negatively to the whole "everything is political" thing, because they think saying that means I'm taking an aggressive stance or some shit, but really all I mean by it is, "if you say something is apolitical, you're just saying you don't find its delving into political subjects/subtexts - whether with an implicit or explicit message in mind - offensive or in any way shocking *to you*, but it may be to others and is therefore political to them"
I'm really sorry, I have a serious problem ;-;
You have truly blessed us with the most thoughtful, articulate reviews on this platform. Poets will write ballads to sing your praises for generations to come.
5577462 it’s going to be okay, I promise
5577533
[Confused Crying]
Truly the most beautiful words ever put upon this site.
Okay but who will write "Twilight Sparkle Prevents the Fall of Byzantium", a story which the world now urgently needs?
5577722 I suppose my time has come.
Customer Service Girl is the protagonist, and having put up with all the s
t that customers have put her through, I believe she could very well prevent the fall of Byzantium, especially if she were paired with Twilight Sparkle.
5578686 Intriguing.
I request a follow-up which explores this premise.
5578688
I don’t know enough about Byzantium to pull it off, I’m afraid.
I do have a story with a Customer Service Girl going adventuring for cursed artifacts with Daring Do, though.
Review my stories next!
5611992 No.
5612001
Please papa poshu
5612006 I don’t want to.
5612110
Fair enough, have a pleasant evening