All right, here we go, a note for future Valiant, (i.e. you) to regard standard procedures. When you get drunk, you may wonder why this recording is on an old-school magnetic tape. Remember that it’s so it can’t be hacked. Do not, I repeat, do not go digital.
With that out of the way, let’s talk about the issue at hand: tits. I don’t know where all these little birds came from, just make sure to get either Fluttershy or Cordoba on it.
Next up, “Rods from God,” a nickname for prompt global strike capability originating from the OCTOPUS satellite network.
The system consists of tungsten carbide rods the size of telephone poles that will be dropped from satellites to strike the ground at hypersonic speed. Given the mass and velocity, a lot of energy will be imparted to the target. I don’t usually go for less explosives, but in this case they actually wouldn’t make much of a difference. An object that weighs that much going Mach 20 is going to pack a pretty big punch, to understate it by a shitload.
There are a couple of problems to sort out with that first. One is a cover story. Rods from God is going to get someone’s attention, so I’m going to make up something even more ridiculous. In that case, “Rods from God” will refer to Celestia bestowing mares with manhood. I’ll present legislation that allows it by law, under the guise of Columbia and Merry May not wanting to feel singled out by their collective uniqueness.
Knowing Celestia, though, she’d get a kick out of it so much that she might not only make it legal but compulsory. I’m honestly not sure how Equestrian citizens would take that. There is a pretty big mare-stallion imbalance in population. But then again, they are simple folk and extraneous penises might not be widely accepted.
Penises, peni? Dunno what the plural on that one is. Don’t care.
So maybe a better idea would be to present the aforementioned plan to Twilight instead. I’m sure she wouldn’t go for it at all. Better yet, she would then ignore anything else she sees about it.
Another problem with Rods from God is that rockets for space lift are ridiculously expensive, even if you do own a petroleum company. Twilight’s going to notice a dip in profits on the shareholder’s report. Maybe I can tell her I put it towards upgrades at that casino they stole in Las Pegasus. She’ll wonder why I’m doing things to a casino the government owns and I don’t, but at least it’ll shift the focus off the satellites.
Also, when Rods from God is online, I’m going to have to test it. But where? Someone would notice a square kilometer of land just vanishing.
Maybe Silent Hill. There’s nothing there, and if Twilight ever found out I could pass it off as advanced anti-avalanche activity. Alliteration.
I wonder if Princess Luna still wants me to do her dirty work? I know I’m not her only agent, but now that I’m back I can start up again. I’ll have to ask her. Twilight doesn’t need to know about that, either, but if she noses in I can just pass it off as government work.
Oh shit. Twilight loves government work. Well, at least telling her it’s for the Princesses will get her to back off.
I can’t really use that same excuse for Rods from God because this isn’t a sitcom no matter how much it appears to be one, and checking out my lie is a simple matter of communication.
Hmm, maybe this is actually a sitcom. Twilight still hasn’t figured out that Cracker is actually Princess Celestia in disguise.
Using the giant voice from the sky to play a laugh track whenever I make a pop culture reference would really piss her off.