"Oh, Celestia, what is that?" gasped Twilight. To be fair, Brandon wasn't looking his best at the moment. He had, after all, just been instantaneously transported across an untold distance. His hoodie no longer had a hood, and was in fact completely torn apart. Since he had been wearing the hood, his head had been minimally protected from the heat of the explosion, but unlike Twilight, he had been at the exact center of the blast. His pants weren't in much better condition, though as a testament to blue jeans they weren't totally destroyed like the hoodie.
"Ah don't have a clue!" stated Applejack in confusion. "Beats me how it got here, too; I take it you didn't have it down here before the explosion?"
"Would I be asking you if I had?" retorted Twilight. "I've got to go look in my library; I think I've seen this thing before in one of my books!"
'Course you have, thought Applejack. "Well Twilight, looks like you've got yerself a new project. Just try not to blow this one up, all right?"
Color rose to the unicorn's cheeks. "I'll try my hardest, Applejack." she said, smiling.
"Well, I'll be seein' ya'all 'round. Bye!" the apple farmer called, walking through the door.
"Bye Applejack!" shouted Spike before the door slammed shut.
"Well Spike, I guess it's time to get to work. Now, I'll need to make a checklist of all the books I have to find, and then triple check it after we sort it alphabetically and..."
Spike groaned. It looked like he was in for another night of obsessive-compulsive fun with his host, Twilight Sparkle.
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Brandon realized as soon as he came to that there were parts of his body he had previously thought incapable of feeling pain that could, in fact, feel pain. He was pretty sure that every single inch of his skin was being scrubbed with steel wool at the same time, while his insides were cooked with high-frequency ultraviolet rays. This was probably the worst he'd felt in his life. Probably, because at the moment, most of his memories were returning to him like... uh... um... well, they weren't coming. He tried to remember how the heck he'd gotten this way, but pretty much the only thing that was coming to mind was a ridiculously bright flash, and then darkness.
Speaking of which, it was pretty dark, wherever he was. He got up and looked around to find himself in a room that didn't look like it got much use. There were bookshelves full of dusty books, and tables piled high with dusty books. Even the floor had encyclopedias and reference material covered in a thick layer of dust. If he had to label this room, he would label it the "dusty book" room. Pretty much the only thing in the room that wasn't full of books (it still had plenty of dust, though) was the bed he was lying on, and from the fact that the books around the bed were slightly less dusty and piled slightly higher than the ones in the rest of the room told him that it, too, had probably been used as dusty book storage. Well, time to look for some clue as to how he'd gotten here.
About five sneezes later he realized that there would probably be footprints from whoever brought him in here in all this dust. After looking about for a while, he found some that hadn't been obliterated by his sneezing fit. They weren't what he'd expected, though; they were circular instead of oblong. Either this person was a dual peg-leg, or something very weird was going on, and Brandon intended to get to the bottom of it. He climbed out of bed and, trying to ignore the burns covering his hands and feet and the aches all over his body, limped over to the door.