It has been thirty American minutes since we broke from a fine, hearty breakfast to continue our search for the lost innocent. Fortunately, it takes far more than a small wait to make this red-blooded American turn around with…
“Kildeez?”
“Yeah, Cypher?”
“Y-you’re doing it again.”
I blink, then rub my eyes with my free hand, cradling Shelly in the crook of my arm. “Shit, really? I was fuckin’ narrating myself again?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How much of that didja hear?”
“Everything after ‘thirty American minutes’.”
“Jesus H…” I grumble, slapping myself. “Okay, let’s just find this little pony and get the hell out of here, alright? I don’t wanna spend another night in this creepy-ass place.” And in fact, I was debating burning it down just to get at that spider-thing. Yes, we still needed to earn Brownie points with the locals, and yes, even if we find our victim, burning down their champion’s house would still look pretty bad, but man fuck that spider shit.
“I-I can totally understand that,” he replies, peeking around a corner and slinking back. He bites his lip, a shiver racing up and down his spine.
“What we got?” I ask, my eyes narrowing. “Some good-fer-nothin’ turrurists?”
“N-no…” he manages to squeak.
I drop to one knee, bringing the shotgun to my shoulder as something skitters around the corner. My finger tenses on the trigger. A breath leaves my body. Somewhere off-screen, the music reaches a frantic tempo. Finally, I can take no more. There is only one way to settle this.
“Eat shit and die, you goat-fucking pig-shitters!” I scream, rounding the corner and blasting away, working the lever action and trigger over and over again, pounding rounds into the far wall and the opposite window. Finally, I pause, having spent a mere five shells on determining that I was blasting buckshot into an empty hallway, but only defeated the window. Ah well, odds were that window had communist leanings anyway.
You laugh now, but don’t come crying to me when you start finding Che Guevera t-shirts stuffed into your breakfast nooks!
Cypher cries out behind me. I turn for a moment, gazing at him, surveilling him for any signs of terrorist Nightmare corruption.
He looks back at me, poking his head around the corner. “S-sorry,” he whimpers. “After you stopped shooting, I realized I was alone back here.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the task at hand, sweeping the shotgun throughout the corridor. Once again, something skitters in one of the rooms. Hardening my chin to sufficient pretty-boy qualities, I charge the door, blast the handle, and kick it down.
Inside I find nothing but a cheap dresser, a twin bed covered in linens that might have been in style sometime around the Reagan era, and a large scorch mark that might once have been a tasteful desktop lamp. Something ruffles the bedspread.
“Th-there…” Cypher whimpers from the door.
“Acknowledged,” I reply, then immediately empty the two remaining shells into the spread. “Die you Nazi-loving tea-worshipper!”
The linens ruffle, then settle, ugly black scorch marks covering them now. I watch as, without any fanfare, a small mouse skitters out, looks up at me, squeaks, and then peals for the door, which of course earns a shriek from Cypher.
“Dude, seriously?” I ask, eyeing him as I start filling my weapon with more shells from my pockets.
“D-don’t let it hurt me!” Cypher cries, covering his face with his hooves as the mouse hops by.
“Dude, the hell is with you today!?” I shout, completely without any mind to anything that might be listening. “You’ve been acting like more of a pussy than usual!”
He looks up at me, ears folding back. “I-I know,” he whimpers. “I-I don’t know what’s…”
Realizing what I’ve said, I backtrack. “Shit Cyph, I didn’t mean…”
“What’s going on in here!?” Chittery shrieks, bounding around the corner after us, her horn already glowing with a prepared spell.
Forgetting my apology, I smirk and wave over to Cypher. “This idiot got me riled up over a mouse.”
Cypher manages to cower even lower as Chittery looks over at me, her horn extinguishing itself. “That’s all? What were those gunshots for, then?”
“Uhhh…” I stand there, dumbfounded as I realize I just blew seven rounds on a wild goose chase. “Shit, that was me too…”
“Wow, what?” She shakes her head. “What’s gotten into you two?”
Me and Cypher exchange looks. “I’d really like to know that myself, princess,” I reply, finally taking note of her. More specifically, of the cord running up her hind leg. “Uhhh…princess? What is that?”
“Hmm?” She looks back at herself, her ears perking up at the sight of the cord trailing into her, then looks back to me slyly. “Oh, I found the most wonderful machine in the other room, something called an ‘X-360?’ Anyway, it included these two wonderful devices that had just the perfect vibrating sequence when I turned it on, so naturally…”
“…Naturally, you found a device that you never saw before and had no idea about its function and proper use, so you stuck it up your happy hole?” I ask, an eyebrow rising.
She blinks at that, then just smiles. “Well, when you put it like that, it does sound strange. But it’s just too much fun,” she coos, giving her rear end a nice shake as a blush rises on Cypher’s face.
“Dude, seriously? You too?”
“Don’t act like you don’t like to watch,” she hisses, shaking her head as her body stretches out. “Let’s just say they don’t call me ‘buzz’ because of my wings.” Her eyes roll, accompanied by a faint buzzing sound from her hindquarters.
“Gross.” I grumble, shaking my head. We desperately need to get out of this house; something’s still messing with our heads, but I’ll be damned if we do it before we pull that little pony out of whatever hell has gotten hold of him. “Okay, besides a new and perverted way to question everything I thought I knew about my sexuality, didja find anything?”
“Hmm…no, after I found this, everything else sort of…seemed less important,” Chittery muses.
“Seemed less…young missy, there ain’t nothing more important than pulling an innocent out of dire straits, you keep that in mind!” I boom, rearing over her. She hardly even notices.
“Umm…g-guys?” Cypher puts in. “Wh-what was that sound?”
Everything comes to a crashing halt. The small hallway falls silent save for the buzzing of Chittery’s lady parts. All three sets of ears perk up and we whirl at the sound of hooves on wood.
“How in the hell did we miss that?” I wonder aloud. “Besides, you know, the fact that I was blasting our eardrums out with repeated shotgun blasts.”
“It’s this way!” Chittery announces, taking a moment to remove the Xbox controller, which I promptly note to have dipped in boiling bleach at some point. We take off down the hallway, down the stairs, towards the basement, with me and Chittery up front and Cypher shivering in the rear.
“I got the lights!” He starts, but I yank him down into the darkness under the house.
“No time!” I announce, storming forward, my chest thrust out, my weapon in hand. “Face me now, you Commie-terrorist-immigrant-British witch!”
The only answer is a shifting from the pile of rubbish in the corner. Our breaths all catch in our throats as we step towards the pile, more shifting coming from the empty soup cans at its base. I tense, raising the shotgun to my shoulder, finger curling around the trigger.
“Okay,” Chittery says. “Deezy, you take point, Cyphy and I’ll…”
“I am a bad motherfucker!” I scream, throwing myself at the pile. “Live long and well thanks to suckers!”
Something shuffles. I wrap my arms around it and pound it in the face. It responds by letting loose its battle cry. I snarl and hit it with a couple roundhouses, followed by a choker hold. It comes back with an aggressive attempt at playing dead. Naturally, my only recourse is a kick to the ribs, followed by…
“Kildeez! Really!?” Chittery shrieks.
I pause in my righteous beatdown of the freedom-hating turrurist commie Nazi to turn to her. “Chittery, can’t you see I’m a little busy handling this enemy of freedom-loving people everywhere?”
“Try the guy we came in here to save, fool,” she replies, pointing to my quarry. I finally gaze down at my massive, muscle-bound hands, seeing a quivering pony in my grasp.
“Homygosh!” I scream, snapping back to my senses as I stand the little pony up, dusting him off. He stands there, quivering, his muzzle scrunched up in obvious disgust, and possibly from the swollen lip I just gave him.
I sigh. “Hey man, you uh…you alright?”
“No I am not alright!” The little pony screeches, his long, sandy mane curling over his eyes. “You’ve just ruined my model!”
“Your…what?”
“My model!” He screams, desperately rushing back to the junk pile. I crane my neck over it, realizing that there is sort of a pattern to the crap I just pulled the little pony out of. If I squint, I can sorta see the soup cans as tables with little mothball chairs arranged by them. At the head is a crushed cereal box on its side with a few strips of scotch tape on its front. Next to it all is a big cocoon of webbing, recently busted. So that’s where he was being held, dang. “See, you’ve crushed the counter! Just when I was so close to finding a new arrangement for the lineup that would’ve revolutionized deli counters everywhere!”
“Uh-huh…” I reply intelligently, taking note of the pony’s scruffy mane, growing stubble, and of a couple ribs poking out of his side. “And…how long have you been down here working on that?”
“Started the second night I got here,” he replies, still focused on smoothing out the creases in his cereal box counter.
Our jaws all hit the floor, literally in Cypher’s case. “But…that was three days ago!” Chittery squeaks.
“Is it now?” The pony looks up, his eyebrow quirked, but then he shrugs and bends back over his model deli. “Well, I did take a nap for awhile, but now I need to make up for lost time!”
“Uh-huh, a nap, that’s why you woke up in a damned cocoon. I’m sure ponies weave cocoons all the time,” I shake my head, my voice rising to a scream. “Why the hell is this so important!? Have you had anything to drink or eat in that time!?”
“Who has time to get water when this still needs work!?” He shouts right back, teasing up the edges of the cereal box. “The reason my business has succeeded is because I have paid attention to detail! I have labored over menus, which tourist group would like what, which customer would prefer the window seat based on complexion! Giving up now, I might as well give up on life!”
We all blink at him. “Okay, that was way too much crazy in one sentence,” I grumble, hauling the little pony up by the scruff of his neck.
“No! Put me down!” He hollers, flailing uselessly against my grip.
“If you want, I can calm him down real fast,” Chittery coos.
“Ugh, Cypher!” I call, scanning the dankness around me for a certain nightling. “Dammit, help me with this guy, will ya!? Can’t you tie him up in changeling goo or…”
“I can! I can!” Chittery enthuses, bounding towards me.
“Aww, hell no!” I scream, holding the pony out of her reach as I finally spy my favorite nightling cowering at the bottom of the stairs. “Cypher!”
“I-I would, b-but…he might…might…” he gulps.
“Might what!?” I bellow. Okay, this yellow-bellied Benedict Arnold was really starting to get under my skin.
He just shivers and tucks away, curling his tendrils around himself while shaking his head. I can only roll my eyes and clomp up the stairs, barreling towards the light with a frown on my face and grim determination set on my brow.
We stride through the streets of Equestria with our heads held high and our chests thrust out. At least, I do, Cypher’s too busy hiding behind me every time a pony so much as glances our way, and Chittery’s spending all her time hitting up every one of those said ponies for an invitation to drinks in between barely-masked gasps of heated anticipation and obvious attempts to show her pussy.
Ah well, at least someone in this group knows how to act the hero!
I blink and shake my head. Wait, hero? Seriously? Not a bad idea, but hardly…hardly…what? Hardly something I should…think? My head’s all…
“Oh my goodness, you found him!”
My thoughts screech to a halt as a purple pony princess drifts into view, beaming ear to ear at the little pony in my grasp. “Where did you find him!?”
“Oh, basement.” I shrug.
“O-oh…all this time, he was just in the basement?”
“Guess so.”
“Uh-huh…” she stammers, then turns to the pony as I set him on the ground. “W-well, you sure gave us a start, sir!”
At that, the pony looks up, as if he only just realized there were other ponies around him. “Wh-where—” he starts.
“You’re safe, Mr. Brittle, don’t worry,” she smiles calmly and evenly, and I just roll my eyes. Why’s she bothering with all the tip-toeing? He’s out and safe, isn’t he? “I sent a few friends to save you from that house after you failed to report for a few—”
“N-no, no!” He moans, looking around in a panic. “I almost had it, I was gonna…gonna…”
“M-Mr. Brittle?” Twilight eyes him uneasily. “A-are you okay?”
He looks around, still with that frantic toss of his head, then his eyes lock on Twilight. “For buck’s sake, this was your doing!?” He screams, his glare turning into hate. “I should’ve known you would just have to meddle!”
“S-sir?” She takes a few steps back. “Sir, I’m not sure you quite understand what’s happened to you.”
“Oh, I understand it quite well!” He takes a few steps towards her. “You took me away from my studies and my thinking! Just when I was on the verge of changing everything! Do you have any idea what you’ve just ruined!?”
“S-sir, y-your friends were w-worried—”
“My friends can hang for all I care!” He screams, which is practically blasphemy to pony ears. He lifts a hoof, rearing back as if to strike. “It’s all gone thanks to—”
I’ve seen enough. I grab him in a quick choker hold, locking my elbow around his throat and wrapping my arm around until my hand can grip my opposite shoulder, my other hand gripping behind his head to finish the hold. Finally, my legs lock around his waist, turning me into a pretzel literally wrapped around him while leaving no part of myself exposed to his flailing, panicking hooves.
“He’s been like this since we got ‘im,” I explain as the pounding at my arm and desperate gasps get weaker and fewer between. “Dude’s totally wrapped around finding some new deli counter design or something else retarded like that.”
“I…what?” Twilight asks as Nutter-Butter’s struggles renew under me. Oops, guess I shouldn’t have bad-mouthed his life’s work like that. Eh, he’ll get over it.
“Yeah…he’s uh…been totally obsessed with it,” Chittery replies, looking us over while biting her lip, a green-tinted blush crawling over her face. “Hey, uh – Deezy, couldja do me a favor and…hold him around the waist, y’know?”
“Sorry, gotta keep his head under control,” I reply.
“Yeah, but…I’d really like it…if you could,” she swallows, shaking on her hooves as she watches Brittle-Back weaken in my grip. I don’t really pay attention, tuning her out even as Twilight turns to her with an arched eyebrow.
“Princess, are you feeling alright?” She asks. “You seem…different. You didn’t injure your head while you were in there, did you?”
“Oh, I’ve never been better,” Chittery enthuses, taking a swooping step towards Twilight with her own eyebrow cocked, her eyes half-lidded dreamily. “Although I think we need to focus more on you, perhaps over coffee? At your palace? With the shades drawn?”
Twilight’s jaw drops. “What!?”
“Or leave ‘em open, let the whole world see. I don’t mind.”
Twilight appears to crash for a second, freezing in position with her mouth hanging wide and her wings flared out. After a few seconds, she shakes her head, snapping out of it before anypony can sneak around behind her and grope her flanks, much to Chittery’s chagrin.
“I…guys, really now, is there something wrong with you!?”
I shrug. “Never been better.”
“Wh-where is your other friend, then!? Cypher!?”
Oh right, him. I amble around in a half-circle and scan the street with the interest and investment of a cheerleader at a Lord of the Rings cosplay contest, eventually spying the shivering mass of black chitin in a hedge twenty yards back. “There, see?” I point.
“I...yes, guys! Really! What is happening to you all!?”
“What’re you talking about?” I ask, turning back around just in time to grab Chittery by the tail before she can try her flanking maneuver again. “I’ve always been the one to rush out in danger, Chittery’s always been the horndog, and Cypher’s always been a pussy.”
“Yes…wait no, I…” she snorts in frustration. “Chittery wasn’t so totally unrestrained that she kept trying to feel up everypony she met! And Cypher could at least function out in daylight! And you, Mr. Kildeez, knew a little something about tact when you first showed up!”
I pause and think about that for a second, but realize there’s more important shit to handle than whatever a pony princess is getting herself worked up about. “Eh, look princess, you asked us to rescue a pony, we did that, it’s done. Now, I ain’t blasted a Nightmare in the face in, like, a day, which is way too damn long. You got anything else that needs doin’ around here?”
She blinks once or twice and then sighs in defeat. “Well, a few days ago I did get a request from a local candymaker. Her friend's been missing for the past few days. I sent Rainbow out yesterday after she woke up, which I'd say was around ten at night,” she bites her lip. “I haven't heard a word from any of them.”
“Got it,” I shrug, turning away with my shotgun slung over my shoulders and Chittery wrapped around my leg, humping vigorously. “We’ll get both li'l ponies back, princess, dontcha worry your pretty li’l head.”
Behind me, Twilight let’s out a frustrated wicker, and in a sudden burst of pink light she’s teleported in front of me. “Pretty little head!?” She screeches. “Honestly Kildeez, what is wrong with you!?”
My eyes widen at her. I shake my head, one chitin-covered hand rubbing into my temple. “Oh God…Princess…I’m sorry, I…I dunno…”
Her wings fold in against her back again, and this time she offers up a hoof. “Here, how about instead you rest for a few days in my palace? That way you can be sure you’re in peak condition for dropping into Canterlot, and you’ll need that much to take on the things around there.”
My fingers rub into my temple as a sharp pain stabs there. Maybe she’s right. God knows that big-ass squid thing wrapped around the castle looked like it could rip a bus apart while driving me insane with a glance. Maybe that’s a sign that I should…should…should...
Pussy out? Without even having killed a Nightmare? Shit, Sift would be so glad to know Equestria’s in good hands.
“Naahhh,” I smile and shoo her off. “Thanks but no thanks, princess. We’ll be fine.”
She looks me over with those concerned eyes, then relents with a bow of her head. “Okay…fine. Go do the hero thing. Just…are you sure you’re alright?”
I flash my best grin at her, my chest rising at that term: hero. “’Course I am, princess!” I snort. C’mon, how can she even ask that? I mean, I’m the hero, and the hero doesn’t get sick or duped or anything like that.
Everybody knows that.
I repeat that mantra as our little trio makes its way to the edge of town, leaving the scared widdle ponies behind. The Everfree forest looms over us like some monster out of an old story. I reach down, pull up a few blades of grass, and scatter them with a breeze. Then I blink: the hell am I doing? I don’t know how to track!
Who cares if you don’t know? As long as you’re leading, everything will work out! That’s what the hero does, right?
I blink and scoff at my temporary stupidity. Of course things will work out! Things always work out for the hero! I rise to my feet and march forward, ready to lead the charge. “This way, comrades! Quickly!” I bellow, striding ahead. “Them turrurist Nightmares must know American justice!”
I pause after a few steps in. Why haven’t my troops rallied behind me? I turn in place, finding Chittery wondering around one of the back alleys of Ponyville, lurking in the shadows just above an unsuspecting little mare. Hunching my eyebrows in confusion, I spot Cypher standing just on the outskirts of Ponyville, prancing on his hooves, looking like he’s torn between following me and running back into town with his tail tucked between his legs. I roll my eyes and start towards them, but then stop. Hold up, this is my chance to get rid of some unwanted luggage! The annoying comedic relief can be out of the way for the hero to shine, right here and now!
Smirking, I just turn and head into the woods. With those annoyances gone, I’m finally free to carry out the total destruction of the Nightmare the way it was meant to be done did: with enough ammunition and one-liners to satisfy Michael Bay for a month. Look out, you Nightmarish freaks, here I come!
“Get ready to get fucked, you commie-loving goat-fuckers!” I scream as I charge into the Everfree. I tromp along all nice and loud to send a simple message: that a true, red-blooded American is coming, and every freedom-hating sumbitch that has the misfortune of being on the same plane of existence as me has a few minutes to make peace with whatever heathen god they believe in before the stars and stripes came to shove a steel-toed boot up their asses.
‘Cause I’m the hero.
And that’s how this story is meant to play out.
A long, dark cave engulfed the spider-creature as it skittered along, dodging shallow puddles of water and dripping stalactites as it continued. The light from the outdoors was far behind, but the cries from the many cages setup deeper within the cave still reached the spider without any problem. It cackled, buoyed along by the despair and shack wafting up to it even as its body trembled in anxious anticipation.
The man from the night before stood at a wide control panel, surrounded by screens, each displaying a different head in profile: some normal, some wider than could possibly be natural, others looking like a misshapen mass that had been worked over with baseball bats. One thing they had in common was the utter, rapt attention they paid to the man sitting at the console.
“So it’s settled, then,” he hissed. “Warlord Stroggoth will continue his raids on the outskirts and smaller villages while everyone else readies up for the main push into Canterlot.”
“My men will lay waste to everything from here to the Frozen North!” One of the figures bellowed, followed by the thump of a fist smacking against a meaty chest.
“Excellent,” the man cackled. “That just leaves our gift from Earth.”
“Our negotiations with the North Koreans have improved significantly,” whispered one of the misshapen creatures in a voice like a fist being pounded into a jar of jelly. “Thanks in no small part, I’m sure, to your aid.”
“It was nothing,” the man replied with a nonchalant twirl of his fingers. “A few well-placed and well-timed bombs, and you can convince anyone that you’re capable of anything. I’m just glad we didn’t have to escalate to wiping out the Premier’s family.”
To the spider, he sounded more disappointed than glad, but to say so would be contradicting the man. Nightmares who wanted to live long, productive lives not being torn apart by unspeakable abominations from the Abyss between worlds did not contradict this man. So instead, the spider waited patiently as the man concluded his meeting, shutting off the screens one-by-one before turning to regard it.
“So?” The man-creature in the chair asked, his cold, passionless eyes regarding the spider like a shark spying an injured seal trailing blood in the water.
“All set, lord,” the spider said with a small bow. “Our forces are gathered here en masse. In his current state, The Champion’s little friend will never be able to resist. He’ll blunder right into us and slam headfirst into the concrete wall of our defenses.”
“Good, good,” the man hissed. “And so, by the time he reaches this cave, he will be on his knees, right?”
“Yes, my liege: I expect by this time tomorrow you can collar him and call him your pet if you so wish.”
The man’s eyes practically glowed in the dim light cast by the computer screens. “Goood…I will be holding you to that promise, little one.”
The spider’s guts gave a fearful clench. “Of course, sir.”
“Now go,” the man flipped a few switches, and instantly a set of cages appeared on the screens, most of them darkened, though the faint outlines of ponies, griffons, and even one or two humans huddled within could be made out, the stillness only interrupted by the occasional patrolling Nightmare, who would periodically rattle a cage with a bladed tendril and laugh hysterically at the reaction. “Make sure you put on a good show, now. I will be watching.”
The spider nodded and turned, skittering back towards the entrance of the cave, never knowing it could feel so relieved to be returning to the sunlight. The man, meanwhile, turned back to his console and flicked a series of switches, eventually pulling up a certain changeling hybrid as he tromped through the woods, noisily stomping through every branch and tree that got in his way.
“It’s almost a shame that our little game must end so soon, half-breed,” the creature chuckled. “But you have proven capable, and I just can’t let you interfere with our plans here. Besides, I’m really looking forward to seeing you break.”
With that, the thing that looked like a man eased back into his lounge chair, put his feet up on the console with his hands laced behind his head, and watched as the Champion’s Understudy blundered right into the jaws of the trap.