My name is Simon "Ghost" Riley. I was part of Task Force 141, an elite group of soldiers composed of the best of the best. Our mission was to take down Makarov, the mastermind of Russian invasion of America. The team consistered of myself, Roach, Ozone, and Scarecrow with sniper support from Archer and Toad. We didn't find Makarov, but we did find a jackpot of information. On our way to the landing zone, Ozone and Scarecrow were killed by mortar fire while me and Roach managed to survive. I dragged him all the way to the LZ but fate had other plans in store for us, specifically death at the hands of our own commanding officer. Shot point-blank, the shock and blood loss made my vision blur as everything went dark. I couldn't feel my body or when I hit the ground, but I could smell the scent of something before flames engulfed the world. I tried to resist Death's offer, but in the end, I gave in. I welcomed his embrace, hoping that I'd finally find peace.

Instead, here I am, alive and kicking in a world full of bloody ponies.

The Producers have long been the bane of the Top Gear team's existence, sending them off into the most dangerous and hilarious of situations in the name of good television. Now follow Captain Slow, Hamster and Jezza as they are sent off again into the unknown as some of the first humans to set foot (Or wheel) into the land of Equestria.

Oh, and the Government isn't exactly on board with this one either...

Teen for language and sexual references.

My name is James Clark, and I am a Private Military Contractor. No, not Mercenary. Yes, there is a difference, but that's beside the point.

Ok, where was I? Ah yes, I was just entering my office in Downtown Houston one afternoon to hear a job offer. When I got there, I found a beautiful, robe-wearing woman waiting for me. Now, in this day and age, most people would find that strange. I didn't for two reasons.

1) In this line of work, you run into a few crazies. If I had a dollar for every nut-job I turned away, I could buy a small European country.

2) It was Halloween. Hell, I was on my way to a party dressed in a replica suit of Veteran Ranger Armor from Fallout: New Vegas, complete with gas mask and real riot gear I borrowed from a friend on the SWAT team. I was gonna win the costume contest for sure!

I'm getting off topic, aren't I? Anyways, this weirdo offered me a job without going into much detail. No location, no objective, not even a dollar amount The only thing I got out of her was the promise that I would be saving thousands, if not millions of lives.

Every instinct told me to turn the job down, and yet I still accepted it. Maybe the idea of playing hero again had its appeal.

God, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.