On a cold, winter morning in Canterlot, you—an earth pony with a blue coat and a steel bar for a cutie mark—sit in front of your computer. The early light of dawn glimmers through your blinds as you take a sip of coffee. The light from your computer screen burns your eyes as you type away.
Come on, just a few more paragraphs, you think to yourself. Hours upon hours of writing an essay have gotten to you. Your eyes are bloodshot, your mane is a mess, but you continue to type away. Just a bit more! Finally, after a few minutes of typing, backspacing, and repeated thoughts of punching a hole through your computer, you finish it.
The History of the Steel Industry
Why the hell didn't I do this on the invention of the train? You think to yourself as you print out your essay. It would've been a lot more tolerable than this nonsense.
As your paper prints out, you decide to open up your internet browser. You go to a daily news website and see a breaking news banner.
Winter Storm warning in effect for Canterlot!
You roll your eyes. I hope that jerk who assigned me this essay freezes. You scroll down and see an advertisement.
Dentists hate him! See how this pony gets white teeth with this one old trick!
You slam a hoof onto your desk. “Why the hell isn't the ad blocker on?!” you yell in frustration.
You then remember that you live alone, and that you no doubt just woke somepony up who lives in a nearby house. “Ah well, not my fault they're light sleepers.”
You scroll past the advertisement and looked at the main headlines. “Let’s see,” you say to yourself as you click on a random headline.
Robbery in Ponyville! Tense standoff leads to the arrest of son of notorious Canterlot crime boss!
“The one time I'm not in that town, something interesting happens,” you grumble to yourself. “Damn it all.”
After a tense two hour standoff last night, Bugsy Junior—the son of the late Don Bugsy, who was the head of the notorious Bugsy crime family—was arrested by the royal guard for robbing Ponyville Federal Bank.
So far, details are limited, but we do know he had two accomplices. Both were also taken into custody along with Bugsy. Their names, however, are still currently unknown.
We will update this story as more details emerge.
“Wow, they must really suck at robbery if the royal guard managed to get there before they escaped,” you muse to yourself. With that, you go back to the main page and click on another article.
Local doomsayer says that the end is near!
Below the article is an image of an enormous asteroid slamming into a planet.
“If I had a dime for every time I've seen an image in an article like this, I could buy Celestia's castle,” you murmur to yourself. You sit up straight and scroll down to the article.
In a public statement yesterday morning, End Times stated that the world will end next Friday.
This, of course, comes after his failed prediction that the world would end the beginning of the month.
And the Friday before that.
And the Monday before that.
And the thirty-nine other times he's been wrong about the world ending.
It's a slow news day, folks. Nothing to see here.
I still can't believe that idiot has two published books, you think to yourself as you laugh. After a few seconds of laughing, you go back to the main page and click on another article.
Boat runs aground at San Franciscolt beach, injures eight.
A boat being driven by a twenty four year old colt ran aground at a San Franciscolt beach yesterday afternoon. The colt—an earth pony stallion named Swift Ride—lost control of the boat and ended running aground.
So far, no details are known as to how the colt lost control of his boat, but we will update with more details as soon as they become available.
You shake your head and click back. “Idiot probably tried to drive it with no hooves,” you grumble to yourself. You scroll past the other articles and to the entertainment section. Immediately, one headline catches your attention.
The Wolfstallion to be remade—again!
You let out a groan. “No original ideas I see?” You look at the other articles—which include a report about the weekend box office results and a list of the top five highest paid actors. You opt to ignore them and scroll down a bit more. “Let's see… ah, the weather report.” You click on the five day forecast and look at it.
The next five days are scheduled to be anywhere from twelve to seventeen degrees Fahrenheit, and all have heavy snowfall. “Score,” you say ad you go back to the main page. You scroll down past the remaining articles and look at the most dreaded topic.
Politics.
You begin to scroll past it when one article catches your eye. Screw it, let's see what it's about. You click on the article and read the headline.
Celestia meets with Griffin king!
“How fascinating,” you say in a sarcastic tone. “Let’s see: blah blah, diplomacy, blah, blah, yearly summit.” You stare blankly at your computer screen. “I don't care; sports time.”
You click back and scroll down to where the sports articles are. “Hmmm… ah-hah, hoofball!” You click on an article with your favorite team—the Fillydelphia Eagles—and look at the score.
To your dismay, they lost. Badly.
“Thirteen to thirty-six!?” you yell. “Stupid Baltimare Ravens!”
In an embarrassing loss, the Fillydelphia Eagles were demolished in all but the first quarter by the Baltimare Ravens. In the first quarter, the eagles managed to score two touchdowns, and makes a single kick.
After that, they couldn't score a single point.
Or defend against the Baltimare Ravens, who proceeded to score six touchdowns—two each quarter—and win the game.
Suffice to say, it was embarrassing.
You stop reading and let out a heavy sigh. “Damn it all,” you say before you curse like a sailor under your breath. Without another word, you click back and—without looking—click on a random article.
Earth pony runs across hoofball stadium, punches New Colt Giants quarterback in the face before being sacked.
“Well, at least he punched the quarterback,” you say with a smirk.
A crazed fan of the Coltland Bronco's leapt onto the field in Giants stadium last night at the hoofball game. He ran to the Giant's quarterback before punching him in the face. Immediately afterwards, he was tackled by the nearby team members.
The stallion, a one Fan Hooftington, sustained three broken ribs, and two fractured legs.
He was quoted as saying it was “totally worth it.”
“What a jackass,” you say as you hold back laughter.
Just then, your stomach growls. “Damn, I haven't eaten since last night,” you say. As you stand up, you realize something. “Wait, why the hell hasn't my essay been printed out?” You look up at your printer and facehoof.
You never turned it on.
“I’m a moron.” You turn the machine on and go to your word program. You click to print it out are met with another roadblock.
Not enough ink.
“Fucking hell.”