//------------------------------// // Electric Boogaloo // Story: If This Is Hell, I've Been A Good Boy // by Greyson //------------------------------// Ah Shit, Here We Go Again. So a few friends of mine told me that I should write a book of my time here in Equestria. Not sure why they think that's a good idea considering who'll be writing it but you know what? Why not. It's something for me to do in my spare time. That and surviving everything that occurs every five goddamn minutes here with these bloody ponies. Where was I? Ah yes. Hello one and all, the name's Alexander Ian Greyson. I'd like to think I'm a rather cheerful guy at the best of times. I mean I'm not exactly a morning person unlike some but just give me an hour and a good breakfast and I'm pretty much Mr Rogers. Except I swear a hell of a lot more than he did and I wanted to punch everything that moved for the first two months I was here. So maybe not Mr Rogers but you get the idea I hope. As I was saying, I'm a human from a lovely old place called Earth, located approximately a fuck-ton-thousand light years that-a-way and I am currently residing in this quaint little town called Ponyville. No, seriously, that's what they named the place. It's a town called Ponyville with a population of 99% ponies. Creativity runs strongly amongst them, I know. Still, it's a lovely place once you get past all the monthly crisis that keep threatening to, like, blow half the continent up or something along those lines. "But Greyson!" I hear you ask, "why live there if it's so dangerous!" The answer to that oh so philosophical question? It's funny. No, really, it is. Look at this way right? You've got, what, a town full of ponies who will run at the first sight of danger. Then you'll have maybe some random madlad who runs in, screaming about world domination or stealing everyone's magic or maybe they're Mormons. You know, the usual bad boy behaviour. Then this big bad evil gets the big bad evil utterly slapped out of him by these six mares I know with the power of love and friendship. Yea, It's a load of bollocks I know, but we have to make do considering I've yet to invent the grenade here. All good things, all good things. But you're probably less interested in me personally and more in how I got here and all the stuff that came after. Fair enough, I'll get to that. Should probably warn you beforehand however that it's really not as exciting as you might think. I'm deadly serious on that. Before I do say, however, take a few guesses between yourselves as to how I actually got here in the first place. Do you reckon I was summoned here as part of an ancient prophecy? Maybe I'm somewhat of a magical man myself and I teleported here somehow? Seriously, you get three guesses. What's your first one? Nope, incorrect. No, not even close buddy. Huh, you know what? That was actually pretty clo- no it wasn't, not in the slightest. But I think I've beaten around the bush enough. You wanna know how I really got here? How I came to Equestria? Well I think you deserve to know. I mean, at the end of the day you did buy this book so I guess you do deserve some answers to life's biggest mysteries. Anyway, it goes a little something like this: I fell into a wardrobe. ... ... I'm not sure what you were expecting to be totally honest. I mean, I did warn you that it wasn't anything glamorous. "So when the fuck was my wardrobe a portal to Narnia?" I ask aloud, scowling as I continue to trudge through whatever forest I had found myself in. "Because last time I checked, the warranty doesn't cover spontaneous portals sucking you in and leaving you for dead in Sherwood bloody forest." 'At least I hope it didn't, otherwise IKEA had some shady shit going on behind the scenes.' Wardrobe malfunctions aside, I continued my long walk through the forest. Once I'd somewhat gotten over the whole abduction thing, my priorities went from 'screaming and swearing' to 'swearing and surviving' which saw me getting off of my ass and beginning a rather long trek through this forest. I'd been walking for at least two hours at this point and, with the whole wardrobe thing unsurprisingly fresh in my mind, I was not the happiest chap around. My mood only soured when I had heard howling far off in the distance, signalling that the forest housed more than just the new rowdy resident redcoat. With a bit more motivation into getting out of the forest and into civilisation, I quicken my pace and headed further into the foliage. Thankfully there was somewhat of a path to follow, so I hoped that I was heading relatively in the right direction of a town of sorts. Or, at the very least, a pub. 'I could do with a drink. Or two.' At least twenty minutes or so later I find my first sign of civilisation, stumbling upon what seemed to be a rather humble little cottage further ahead. With a spring in my step and a smile on my face, I waltz right across the small bridge over the stream, right up to the cottage and, reaching for the door, I knock. I receive no answer from the inhabitants and, after a few more attempts resulting in the same outcome, I have no choice but to continue down the path, cursing whoever lived there for daring to not be home when Greyson came-a-calling. "Just follow the yellow brick road, Alex. Maybe there'll be a pot of gold at the end." Spoiler: there is no pot of gold. There is also no yellow brick road, only a dirt path with which to light my way out of the forest. Woe is me. My troubles did not last long however as, having continued further down the path away from the cottage I soon found myself passing a cow barn. How do I know this, dear reader? Well, a) there were cows. B) there was a barn. 'Sometimes my genius can be frightening.' Leaning up against the fence, some of the cows actually began making their way towards me. If I were a paranoid man I would have believed them to be having looks of curiosity plastered across their faces. With a suave grin I waved to the approaching cattle. "Well how do you do my fine friends?" I ask with a suave grin. "We're doing very well, thank you for asking." The suave grin remains steady, even as my mental state drops. "And on that note I'm fucking gone. Have a nice one fellas." Watching the strange creature leave, Esmoorelda looked to her fellows who shared in her confusion. "Was it something I said?" "Greyson mate, you've been drugged. It's the only explanation for this mate." I mean, I didn't think I was wrong on this assumption. I mean, could I be blamed for thinking that I was under the influence at this time? "Falling through a wardrobe and into a forest? Nice. Talking cows? Uh huh. Alex buddy, you're gonna wake up very soon in an ice filled bathroom with one of your kidneys currently in a box halfway to Morocco. Grand fucking job." I was contemplating jumping off of the bridge up ahead and into the water but there were just two things stopping me. First and foremost, the drop was, like, 2 feet. All that I would accomplish would be to look like an even bigger idiot. Second of all, if I kept walking across the bridge, I'd be in the town that was quite literally right across the bridge. If I was in the town, I could talk to the people. Or, maybe, more talking cows. Considering I was most likely tripping the biggest of balls, it really was a coin toss at this stage. "Fuck it, what've I got left to lose? My other kidney?" With that, I carried on forth and into the town, disregarding the bridge jump. So heading further into the town, a few things became apparent. Firstly, there seemed to be rather large love for horses around here. There were statues, signs and bushes all chiselled, signed and trimmed into the shapes of them. It was like a Mongol's wet dream. Secondly, I had found myself right slap bang in the middle of town, standing next to a fountain and now surrounded by a crowd. Why was this a prominent issue? Well, that brings me up the third issue. Remember that coin toss about talking cows? Yea, toss it and I can all but promise you that it'll land perfectly on its side before spontaneously combusting. Whilst you're at it, also replace the talking cows with talking horses and you'll have exactly what I'm dealing with now. 'God, can you just, like, send me as sign?' "What in Celestia's name is that?" "Is that some sort of Minotaur?" "Where is its fur?" 'Just a little hint that I'm not, you know, dead?' A flurry of noise to my right drags my attention back to reality and, as I turn to the noise, I'm met with six more ponies all standing before me, eyes wide and mouths agape. Behind them were a multitude of briefcases and travel bags. We stare for a small while before I decide to break the silence. "Please, take a picture before I fade away into non-existence from the sheer bullshittery overwhelming my system." Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, the ponies can only look amongst themselves in confusion. 'Guess they're not used to foreigners. Sure hope they aren't fond of lynching.' "If I may ask," 'Hey, now they speak. Here I thought I was talking to the horses that don't speak. Phew, close call', "what are you?" The one with the indigo mane asks, looking me up and down. "A human is what they call me, my fair lady." My response elicits more confusion, though at least the one who asked seems rather pleased at my response. 'May as well see how far this rabbit hole goes before I wake up in an alley.' "Though, I don't suppose you've seen any more people like me around?" They shake their heads. "Shame." "Well ah' can't say that ah've ever heard of ah' hew-mayn 'round these here parts. Where d'ya come from, partner?" 'I come from Tahiti, sweetheart.' "Don't suppose you've heard of the U.K?" A collective no is the response. "Britain?" Same again. "England?" Again, they've got nothing. "Okay, how about Earth?" "Huh? You came from the earth?" 'Oh cool, you look like a rainbow.' "No, I came from my mother, skittles." They most definitely have a hell of a lot more questions to ask me, but before they can, the lavender coated one suddenly gasps. "Girls!" Our attention turns to her, "The train is in 10 minutes, we need to get a move on! We'll have to carry this conversation on on the way to Canterlot." 'What the fuck is a Canterlot?' "And that's where exactly?" She doesn't answer, instead running past me with her luggage following close behind her. I wasn't even questioning why it was floating as I already knew that the answer was going to be bullshit all the same. As the rest of them follow suit, I'm left wondering just what I'm meant to do know. 'Reckon if I drown myself in this fountain I'll wake up?' Before I can follow suit on my master plan, the lavender unicorn comes right back up to me. "Can I help yo-" "You're coming with us as well." 'Aight, cool.' "Okay, where are we going then?" "Canterlot." "That really doesn't really help me in the slightest, kiddo." "Just follow me, we'll explain on the way." With that, she turns right back around and gallops off, luggage still breezing through the wind right above her head. "You've known me for about five minutes and you're already taking me to a wedding? At least you move fast, purple!" I call out after the mare, getting up to follow her. She doesn't grace me with a response as she speeds off, leaving me to leisurely follow on from behind. Then I'm suddenly assaulted by a literal wall of pink fur. 'Am I dead yet?' "Hello Greyson!" 'Hello?' "When we get back from Canterlot, you're getting the best 'Welcome-to-Ponyville' party ever!" Just as quickly as it had happened, the pink demon releases me and happily skips of to rejoin her friends. At first I just wave it off as another case of insanity brought about by the drug fueled high that I'm experiencing but, drug trip or not, I realise something disturbing. "Hey, how do you know my name?" The pink mare smiles innocently, before turning around and bouncing along the road towards the rest of the mares. 'Right, she's gunning for the other kidney.' As we all get to the train station, I can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Here I am, a 20 year old barely out of his teens, experiencing what must be the king of all acid trips preparing to board a train with 6 pastel coloured ponies of varying colours and physical features. 'Its like a damn child's story. Unicorns? Talk horses? Magic? All I need now is for someone to call me a wizard and I'm all set.' "Ya' know, in all the excitement ah' don't think we ever asked for yah' name, partner." "Well let's change that shall we? My name is Alexander Greyson," with a dramatic bow and a flourish of the wrist, I smile charmingly to the six mares, " 'tis a pleasure." Then the train decided to sound off right next to me and scare the living hell out of me, causing me to stumble and fall gracefully to the floor. "Are you okay down there, darling?" Comes the concerned voice of the white unicorn, looking out for my welfare. "Hmm, yes, I can confirm that this floor is made out of floor." Is my muffled response. Not a bad first impression I don't think. Tally-ho.