Y'know, I have an unspoken tradition of starting a story off with Twilight Sparkle.
And holy heck, am I going to continue that tradition.
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...
As always, Twilight screeched like a banshee in the middle of the night. "I've done it! I finally did it!"
Spike fell out of his storage bin, rubbing his eye. "Whuh? You..." he looked at the heap of metal in the center of the room. "Oh, okay, that's nice, Twi. Goodbye forever now."
Spike proceeded to dematerialize, because screw you too Spike this is now a Spikeabuse story.
Now then. With Spike permanently out of the equation, we can now focus on the true meat of the story! And I'm not talking about the horse sandwich that Twilight's currently eating. What? The mare likes her chicken sandwiches for horses. Emphasis on the for horses part. Maybe she could ask Scoots for some advice on the optimal chicken sandwich configuration.
Wait, what was this story about? Oh yeah, the thingy in the middle of the room. Uhhhhhhh... it has five legs and a head vaguely reminiscent of a middle finger or something. Idunno. Twilight slammed her face on a nearby button.
"YASSSS QUEEN, RIIIIISE!" Twilight boomed, mad scientist style. The thingy rose on its five legs, waving about its giant middle finger head thing as it scanned its surroundings. "WITH YOU, I SHALL FINALLY GET OVER MY FEAR OF QUESADILLAS!"
A ladybug landed on her muzzle. She screamed.
Wow, this story's already reached 250 words? Man, this really is a testament to my claim that I'm most productive in the middle of the night!
So anyway, after batting away the ladybug, Twilight hopped onto the back of her thingy, pointing a hoof at the window. "NOW, LET US BE OFF! WE SHALL VANQUISH THE QUESADILLAS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"
Somewhere out there, a Taco Bell trembled in fear of what was to come. It was BOGO taco day, and there was a line already forming in front of the bathrooms. What? You thought that Twilight was actually going to phase into our reality and rampage through some fast food chains? Nah man, there's a reason why I keep stories like this under lock and key.
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Huh. Where'd that lock go?
Meanwhile at a poor, unsuspecting Taco Bell, Twilight rampaged on her thingy through the restaurant.
"SHOW ME YOUR QUESADILLAS!" She shouted, overturning those cool talking automatic trash cans that say "thank you" after you put trash in them. It was a sad day for literal garbage cans.
It was then when she noticed that everypony was staring at her thingy.
"It's... it's so big!" One mare exclaimed. "Can I touch it?"
"Yes! Can I touch your thingy as well?"
Twilight rolled her eyes, preparing her annoyed call-center customer service voice. "Yes, but first of all, I call it the Dingus, Model 1. Now, after you're done touching it and all, can you please step out of the way? I'm on a quest to delete quesadillas from the physical plane of existence. After that, I'm going for the mental plane. Maybe the astral plane after even that."
She looked down at the collection of both stallions and mares, and even foals, who were currently worshipping the Dingus-bot.
"Praise be the Dingus!" A priestly-looking stallion preached. He was wearing a Dingus T-shirt that seemed to have come from the nearby T-shirt peddler that was peddling T-shirts of the Dingus by meddling with a different T-shirt peddler's T-shirt peddling supply.
What I mean is that he hijacked the other pony's cart. He used to be a hot dog salespony before he was enlightened by the existence of the Dingus.
"Seriously, please!" Twilight groaned. "Step aside, step aside! Let me finish wreaking havoc, and then I'll donate this machine to a museum or something. That way, you can respectfully worshi--"
Celestia landed on top of Twilight with a thud.
"--ow."
"PRAISE BE THE DINGUS!" Celestia cackled. She stood up, grabbing Twilight with her magic and frisbeeing the mare away. Good thing too, as that was in reality an evil, psychotic clone of Twilight, driven solely for her passionate hatred for all things cheesy, including this story!
...Oh dear Celestia, I'm going to be paying dearly for the mistake of unleashing such a monster on this written work, aren't I? Maybe if I disguise it even more as a garbage fire, she won't notice!
Speaking of garbage fires, it's time for our traditional ad break! Hit it, Flam!
The curtain that'd apparently been in front of you this entire time drew back, revealing Flim lounging on Rarity's (totally-not-stolen) fainting couch. He winked at the camera. "Ever felt down in the dumps? Hate waking up every morning in a literal heap of garbage not unlike this very story you're reading? Look no further, 'cause boy, do we have the product for you!"
Flam landed face-first in front of Flim, hacking up a hairball fragrant orb of puffiness.
"This product that my brother has presented will cure all your woes! Garbage beds! Garbage stories! Garage doors, scratched floors, runaway boars, and much, much more!"
Flam stopped choking, switching immediately to a wide grin. "Yes! Got a problem with low-hanging branches?" A pile of sticks clattered to the floor. "Fragrant Orb will fix it! Ceiling fan's too high to clean?" A dusty ceiling fan dropped down from above, stopped only by a single cable. Flam grabbed the hairball and slapped it on the ceiling fan. "Fragrant Orb will fix it! Divorce papers?" A pony in a suit handed him a small stack of legal work. He held back his tears. "A-and the kids, too? I..." he shook his head and smacked the lawyer with the saliva-covered hairball. "Fragrant Orb will fix it!"
Flim took over once again from his brother. "Yes! Fragrant Orb will fix anything, or your money divided by the total value of your payment back! Buy now in three easy installments of your grandmother's cookies!"
Flam slapped his brother with the hairball.
"I-I mean three easy installments of your grandmother's net worth!"
Flam nodded in approval. He held the power of the Fragrant Orb, after all.
The curtains fell again, followed by the rest of the now-flaming stage. I think now's a good enough time as any to get back to our main attraction.
The Republic of Dingus stood for its longest period of peace in known history. Twilight Springus flipped a page of her book.
"So, you're saying that the foundation of this country is... a robot shaped like a hand with an extra middle finger as its head?"
Arch-Dingus Celestia nodded respectfully, paying mind not to wrinkle her Dingus T-shirt.
"So what happened to the real Twilight Sparkle, then?"
"According to all known laws of aviatio--"
Old Mare Twilight leapt down from the ceiling batting Celestia on the head with a newspaper. "YOU KEEP YOUR NEW-AGE BEE MOVIE REFERENCES OUTTA MY STORY, YOU YOUNG WHIPPERSNAPPERS!"
Celestia looked up at the centuries-old Twilight. "I'm older than you, y'know."
"Boomer."
"Oh."
This story proceeded to fall into a black hole and be erased from all of existence, including your memories. You now no longer remember what the heck you just read. Go ahead, read it again. And again, and again, and again... forever...