A lot can happen in the blink of an eye.
People can be born, People can die. People can change their minds.
Or, in this case...
...Twilight can fire a purple, pulsating blast from her horn, and knock the Pearl Shooter out of Ghost's hands.
...Ghost can lose his balance, clutch his hand in pain and shock, and fall to the ground, hard.
...Film Reel can trot away, her legs going six to the dozen.
And would you believe that's exactly what happened.
Voosh...BLAM! "AAH, GODDAMMIT!" Cling, cling, THUMP. Clip, clop, clip, clop.
Ghost tried to turn over, but it was to no avail; his arm had gone numb from landing on it. All because of Twilight. Only she would stoop so low. He felt her press down on his body, her hooves trapping him.
"And just what do you think you're doing!?" Twilight shouted. Ghost feebly covered his ear.
"Spreading the capitalist ideology throughout the world," Ghost burbled.
"You're evil. Pure evil. I'd fry you now if I wasn't so nice."
"NICE!? YOU!?" The capitalist tried to laugh, but coughed violently instead. "I hope you get cancer of the horn."
"You call yourself a nice guy!"
"...Was that a 'back at you'? Major fail. You probably didn't even have a personality before your friends came along, and what binds them to you as friends?" Twilight tried to think of a snappy response, but nothing immediately came forward.
Infuriated, Twilight barked, "That's it. I'm through reasoning with you. You want a fight, let's have one."
"Yeah, a duel." Ghost's blood had flowed back into his formerly numb arm, and he shoved Twilight onto her back. She levitated herself upright almost immediately. He grabbed the Pearl Shooter and lobbed it at Twilight. "You take that one, I'll get my other one from the studio. Meet me there in an hour, you'll know how it works by then. Seeya."
"Agreed." Twilight levitated the gun towards her, and walked back into the library. Ghost could have sworn he heard Spike screaming as she entered. Ghost chortled, and walked off back to the studio.
***
It was happening. Just like in his dream, Twilight was duelling him. Fortunately, Ghost had a solution. Play things out, like in the dream. Maybe it'll cause a paradox or something.
Ghost decided to take some calls, to take his mind off things. "603, what's up, Radio Graffiti." Ghost was surprised to hear an 8-bit remix of 'Fuck You Texas'. "I mean, you made an 8-bit of that song, for real? I mean, really? I mean, you made an 8-bit of that goddamn song? That's just stupid."
"Ghost?" Ghost jolted in response.
"Oh, hi, Applejack. Whaddya want?"
"Twilight told me everything. Ah don't want ya to do it."
"I do what I want, because I'm a capitalist. GoatFarmer99, Radio Graffiti."
"Ah brought everypony who wanted to come." This was true: Rarity, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie had all turned up to see Ghost. They all wore worried expressions on their faces, much like Applejack. At his point GoatFarmer99 piped up.
"If you're in Texas, you appreciate the smell of fresh-"
"Ah, shut up, you idiot, alright? SHUT UP! 619, Radio Graffiti."
"You were such a great help back in the Carousel Boutique. You don't need to ruin your reputation by shooting Twilight," Rarity said.
"Ruin my reputation? This'll make it better! Teach her to talk down to a capitalist," Ghost muttered.
"If you're in Texas, you appreciate the smell of butthole or something, you know what I mean?" said 619.
"Ah, shove it up your ass, you stupid, splicing piece of crap, alright? I NEVER SAID THAT, and all the capitalists know it! 215, Radio Graffiti."
"We found someone you might like, Ghost," Fluttershy whimpered, before stepping to the side to allow Film Reel to step past her, and into Ghost's field of vision. Ghost was gobsmacked.
"I masturbate to Alex Jones. Ahahahaha!" 215 played the splice before Ghost disconnected him, not really caring about his precious calls.
"You. What are you doing here? I thought you ran away?" asked Ghost, still in awe.
"I found her crying in the corner of town. I had to help, and she told me you were the cause. I think you need to apologise," Fluttershy demanded, trying to be assertive.
"No, Fluttershy, it's alright. He doesn't have to apologise. I forgive him," Film Reel smiled, taking her hat off with one hoof and rubbing her misty eyes with another.
"You...forgive me? After I treated you like that?" Ghost gasped. Film Reel just nodded. Ghost was dumbstruck. Rather than saying anything, he just got up and hugged her. He didn't know why, but he could feel something growing inside him. "You guys aren't that bad, mostly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to take some more calls. Skull314, Radio Graffiti."
"Death to niggers! YEEEEAAAAH!" How many splices do these guys have?
"Son of a bitch. You son of a bitch. You know what I'm saying? You son of a bitch. 305, Radio Graffiti."
But 305 never completed his call. At that moment the door burst open, nearly flying off its hinges. Everybody turned around to see Twilight standing there, looking determined, levitating a gun with her horn. "Ready, Ghost?"
"Ghost, it's not too late, you can call this off," Rarity said.
"Come back to the farm," Applejack added.
"Guys, I think you should go. Twilight and I need to be alone." Everypony other than Twilight filed out of the room, looking quite sad.
"Let's begin, Ghost."