I lied, that last chapter wasn’t canon at all.
Elijah marched a slow and mournful march as funeral drums played in the background. He was, as they say in the business world, totally and completely screwed.
“I guess I’ll have to go check with... WORST PONY now...”
At that very moment, far away back on earth, a certain brony by the name of Shortskirtsandexplosions stopped typing the newest chapter of “The End of Ponies”, and turned to his master. “I just felt... a disturbance in the force... like a million bronies just shuddered in horror.”
His master, Bubbles the Chimp, put down his banana and spoke in a sage-like voice. “There is nothing you can do now... but write more pony words. Do it. Do it for Ponky.”
Shortskirtsandexplosions’ eyes teared up as he looked down upon a picture of his dearly departed. “Yes. Yes I shall.”
Bubbles the Chimp smiled. “Then have taught you all you need to know.” He turned his hairy back, and began to leave.
“Wait!” The brony shot his hand out, and the Chimp turned. “Don’t leave me... you’ve taught me so much in the ways of the written word, and the magic of friendship... but you could teach me in so much in the ways of love!”
“Um, I was actually just going down to grab some cheetos from the kitchen,” Bubbles said, initiating an awkward silence. “I kinda have to live here, I’m homeless.”
“Oh.”
“So what was that about love you were-”
“Aw, get outa here.” Skirts waved his hand at his mentor, who shrugged and headed down to grab some taste cheesy corn snacks.
Meanwhile, Elijah did not notice any of these events, and was instead focusing on the far more pressing matter of having to spend an entire day with Applejack.
“Her dumb hat... her unnatural work ethic...” Elijah mumbled as he ran over the list of bad things about Worst Pony. “And worst of all... HER ANNOYING ACCENT!”
Elijah had a friend who seemed to be the girl version of him named Tiffany. She was in love with southern accents. No matter how close he and his friend Tiffany were in terms of personality, he did not share her crazy fetish of the disgusting drawl of the south.
Elijah sighed, and looked up at the archway before him. “Well... here I am. Sweet Apple Acres.” He sighed, and headed into the property, passing by Granny Smith who was hiding in the bushes waiting to shoot anypony who would dare trespass.
Elijah put his hand up to his forehead and squinted, searching around for Applejack. Not finding her within the first ten seconds of searching, he did as any self respecting American did, and gave up.
Heading over to an apple tree whilst grumbling about the large quantity of illegal immigrants stealing all the work in this country, Elijah eyes the shade of the fruit foliage. It was a rather hot day, and Elijah could spare some free time. It wasn’t like he would go to hell or anything.
Elijah sauntered over to the tree with tons of swag, and leaned up against it. He sighed, finally happy, right before a nerve-wracking voice cut through the silence like a butter knife through steel.
“Alrighty, time to buck this here apple tree!”
Elijah had no time to react. The hooves came flying at his crotch closing in on speeds near light speed. His groin was ground into a fine paste of skin and blood.
Falling to the ground in immortal agony, Elijah emitted a squeak that only bats and a few breeds of dogs could hear. Winona’s ears perked up, sensing danger. She bounded off as fast as she could in the direction most ponies knew famous for housing large amounts of diamond dogs.
Applejack, on the other hoof, was perplexed. “Ah don’t remember trees ever bleedin’ before!”
Elijah, the crumpled shell of a man he once was, sure of the fact that this was the end. This was, indeed, the exact reason he hated Applejack to his very core. How could anyone DO this to him? Nevermind the fact that he was invisible and essentially mute, Applejack should have just detected the pure amounts of SWAG coming off him!
“This pain... is unlike any I have ever felt before...” Elijah gasped on the ground, slowly bleeding out. The colors faded from the world, the smells got less smelly, and the New Jersey became more evident. This was truly the end for our... um... “hero”.
Just as everything was going dark, the wind began to pick up. Elijah opened his eyes, straining to see what was going on. “Is this... super hell?”
Elijah’s eyes widened as a tornado came bearing down on Sweet Apple Acres. “Aw jesus, what the fuck.”
As the tornado got closer, he heard the distinct sounds of witches on bicycles. Applejack and Winona both attempted to run away from it, but were soon swept up.
“No!” Elijah said stubbornly, holding onto a nearby rock to avoid being spirited away. “We’re not doing a Wizard of Oz parody!”
ONE VISIT TO THE EMERALD CITY LATER
The plump devil who was in charge of Elijah’s afterlife was sitting on a rock texting his girlfriend when Applejack trotted past him wearing ruby boots with Winona fast on her heels. He looked over to see his client covered in straw.
“Haha, you had to be the scarecrow!” the portly poltergeist exclaimed with a snort.
“Yeah, whatever, at least I got this brain!” Elijah held up a brain in a jar of weird yellow liquid. “Also, I have a complaint; most of these little tasks seem to be more of beating the shit out of me instead of me actually helping ponies. I’m getting a bit suspicious here.”
The devil started to sweat a bit. “There’s no need for that! Anyway, you’ve got to go into the next pony now, Princess Celestia!”
“Wait, but the sun is—” Elijah started to say, pointing to the sun, which was at the high it normally would be at around noon, but it set and rose again in the matter of twelve seconds.
“Oh.”
“Now, get your ass in gear and go find Celestia!” the devil yelled, poking Elijah in his chops with his tiny pitchfork.