//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Wake Me, Shake Me, Pony, Pony // Story: HiE Powered (a parody) // by Elric of Melnipony //------------------------------// Special Forces badass Kyle “Thud” Batshit was on his way back to the United States. That morning before dawn, his team had parachuted into the renegade nation of Assholia. They moved into position by sunrise, and then spent the day mowing down caricatures of people the author didn't like. It had been satisfying carnage. They then crossed the border into Escapistan, only to find that the return plan had changed. For reasons that were unclear, they were to make their way home on a commercial flight; the good news was that the airline had bumped them all up to first class. Kyle looked at the number of hours the flight would take, looked at the drinks menu, looked at the line that said “complimentary for First Class passengers”, and decided to get hammered. He started with the expensive drinks, and had worked his way down to last Thursday's vintage of Chien Fou Vingt-Vingt before passing out. Kyle wasn't quite like the others in his unit. For one, he was exceptionally talented. Somehow, in his 25 years on Earth, he had attained over 60 years of experience in killing. For another, he was known to people in all branches of service due to his spectacular skills; soldiers, sailors, marines, airmen... they all thought he was a righteous dude. Also, he was secretly a fan of a toy tie-in cartoon that was aimed at children. He realized that it made little sense for pets in a pet shop to never actually be sold – because that's what happens in a real pet shop – but he was willing to overlook that. He looked a lot like the main character from the Starship Troopers movie. Women wanted him, and men wanted to be him. (In the case of about seven or eight percent of the population, those statements were reversed.) A couple of hours after Kyle's brain decided it was no longer open for business, strange things began to happen. No one noticed because it was well into the plane's night, both in terms of where it was and the schedule it was following. The passengers were all asleep, and the flight attendants were hidden away, chugging coffee. A faint jingling noise started that was heard by no one. A small ball of pink light appeared and hovered above various sleepers, as if it were looking for something. When it reached Kyle, it stopped. He was soon enveloped in pink energy and could no longer be seen because of the glow. The glow faded and he was gone. All that remained in his seat was a light dusting of glitter – a common side effect of unicorn magic. “Hey.” It was a feminine voice, soft and sweet. He was aware that he was becoming aware. He wasn't awake, but he was headed in that direction. “Hey, wake up.” Maybe it was the cute redhead who had been taking care of the passengers in coach class? Having her nearby would be a wonderful way to start the day. “Hey, come on, human.” What? “Time for you to get up.” He opened his eyes. Horse. Pink horse. Big-eyed pink horse with lots of colors in its mane. He closed his eyes again. It was clearly the booze and the lack of food; this vision could be safely ignored. “Open your eyes. I'll explain everything.” He felt something like a palm against his chest, but no fingers. Odd. He opened his eyes. Horse. He looked at his chest. Hoof. He blinked several times. “Horse,” he stated flatly. “Close. Pony. And you're a human, and you're in our world now. Like I said, I'll explain.” Kyle opened his eyes again and took in the room. He was in what looked like a scaled-down castle; he would probably have to duck when going through doors. He thought he had been caught in a net, but then he looked down at his feet and saw a bright label: “Canterlot Hammock District”. Below that, it smaller letters, it said “Third Street”. The horse... pony was strangely colorful compared to animals back home, and she was actually pretty cute. “I'm Cadance. Wanna make out?” “Um... no?” She shrugged. “Never hurts to ask. What's your name?” “Kyle. Kyle Batshit. My friends and teammates call me Thud.” “Why?” “You know, I'm not sure. Why did you ask me if I wanted to make out?” “I'm all about spreading love.” She winked. “Some beings are just the opposite, though. They're all about hate, and anger, and killing for fun, and writing bad poetry about how other species don't understand them. That's why we needed a warrior.” He was being given a mission; this was something he could understand. “I'm a warrior. What's the target?” Years later, when asked why he had thrown himself so readily into the ponies' cause, all he could do was raise a finger as if to make a point, and open his mouth for a response that never came. Even if he had been able to find the words, the reply would have amounted to nothing more than “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” After all, what justification do you really need for risking your life to help strangers who are members of a previously unknown intelligent species? “Something new came to our world before you did. They're not like any life that we've seen. They can't be reasoned with, and they live to tear down everything that's good. Come with me and talk to my family. We'll tell you everything we know.” With that, Cadance turned away and opened the door with some glowy special effects. More multicolored horses... ponies. The motherly white one seemed to be in charge, the purple one looked like she wanted to dissect him, and the deep blue one was all over the Twentieth Century with her slang. What the hell did “twenty-three skiddoo” mean, anyway? By the time he was bored with wondering about that, he had already missed a fair amount of what the white one had been saying. “Fortunately, the rift was unstable, so my sister and I were able to 'encourage' it to close from here. Unfortunately, the things that crossed over have shown themselves to be quite resistant to magic, as well as extremely hostile.” “What things?” Kyle wanted credit for participating. “They resemble solid rock, but they seem to be alive. They are large, and strong, and very durable. On the other hoof, they're slow and they don't appear to be very intelligent.” After giving the description, the white one – Princess Celebrity? – helpfully provided a visual aid. Her horn glowed, producing a wavering three-dimensional image of what looked like a disgruntled boulder. He squinted. “Trolls?” The replies came all at once, and he had trouble sorting them out. “So it would seem.” “Far out.” “I've read about those!” “Ick. No smooches for him.” Kyle was always up for killing. “I'm always up for killing,” he announced. “Where's my target?” The leader – Princess Celery Stick? – held up a hoof. “Not just yet. There's something we must give you before you go.” An object floated towards him in her telekinetic grip. It was a smooth cylinder that he would have mistaken for a roll of aluminum foil if not for the fact that the ends were sealed. He plucked it out of the air and examined it. “Thanks. What is it?” The white princess gave a curt response. “A weapon.” Her sister spoke up. “You're gonna need to be packing, see? And this heater's aces!” “Packing? Heater? This is a gun?” He knew every gun in the world and most of them throughout history, and this was nothing like he had ever seen. “In a manner of speaking. What you are holding is a combination of unicorn magic, Thrint technology, and a complete disregard for the safety of the user. The result is a shape-shifting matter/energy matrix that responds to the user's thoughts. It can become almost any distance weapon you can imagine. It is called the OmniBoom.” “–called... the... OmniBoom.” The purple one was muttering and taking notes. “Princess, I've never heard of or read about anything like this. What's it made of? And how?” “It required many rare resources, Twilight, including Kryptonite, vibranium, transparent aluminum, and Spam. Luna and I worked together to craft it, following ancient specifications in the Equinomicon.” “The two of you made this? That's incredible.” Luna waved a hoof dismissively. “Ain't no thang.” By this point, Kyle was holding in his hands a perfect replica of a Cheney Mark II Face-Shredder. “Blah, blah, blah. Just tell me where to go and how to get there.” Cadance gave him a look that he would have called pitying if it had been on a human face, but it obviously couldn't be that. He just hadn't learned pony expressions yet, that's all. “That's just it, sweetie. We need your skills, but you also need ours.” Twilight jumped in. “You don't know our geography, or our customs, or any magic, or anything else that would help you on this journey.” The one with the name he hadn't learned yet – Princess Cellophane? – took over again. “That's why we're sending a guide. Twilight is going with you.” Her jaw-drop could have impressed a snake. “I am?”