Tucker slowly opened his eyes, straining to adjust to the level of light that surrounded him. It was very bright, far too bright for him to still be in the cave. The second thing he noticed was the texture of the ground he was lying on. It felt course but flexible. He was lying on grass, tall grass, but there was no such grass in all of Blood Gulch! He was somewhere else.
The third change he noticed was far more shocking. He lifted his right hand to rub the side of his head, but what he felt touch his head didn't feel like a hand at all! It was stif and smooth like a bone, and circular in shape. Surprised by this, Tucker turned his head to look at what he thought was his hand. It was not a hand. Instead, Tucker found himself staring at a dark grey hoof! Attached to the hoof was a leg covered with a teal coat of fur. For a few seconds, he studied the limb with confusion, before he realized that the leg was attached to him! He had a hoof!
"Gah!" Tucker gasped. He shook the hoof violently as if it was a bug he could shoo away. "What the hell did I eat?" He exclaimed.
"Church, I think he woke up!" Tucker heard Caboose announce. Tucker turned his attention toward Caboose, but instead of an armored human, he saw an unarmored pony. The pony was blue, the same shade of blue as Caboose's armor. His eyes were a lighter shade of blue and his mane and tail were both short and blond. As unusual as all these things were, the thing was the most strange Tucker the most was an image of three, light blue bubbles on the side of his flank.
"What the hell is going on!?" Tucker asked desperately. "Why does that talking pony sound like Caboose? And why the hell does he have a tramp-stamp?"
"That might be hard to explain," Church said as he walked into Tucker's field of view. Church was a light-blue stallion with black hair on his mane and tail. He had an image of a megaphone on his flank. "You should take a look at yourself," he said, "It happened to you too."
Tucker stood up and looked down on himself to confirm that this was true. His entire body was covered in teal-colored fur. He had a 'tramp-stamp' as well, a dark-red heart. "Alright, that's it!" Tucker declared. "I don't care how lazy we are, we are never letting Caboose cook dinner again! This hallucination is way too fucking weird for me!"
"I hate to be the one to tell you this," Church lied, "but you aren't imagining this. We woke up a few minutes before you did, and I didn't believe it at first either. As far as I can tell, that temporal anomaly thingy is what caused this. I don't know how it happened. I don't know where we are. I don't even know where the reds are!"
"The reds?" Tucker repeated. "Who gives a shit? Let's just find a way out of here!"
"Why are you guys acting like something's wrong?" Caboose asked. Following his question was an awkward silence.
Tucker asked Church, "He hasn't noticed yet, has he?"
"Nope," Church replied. "I've been waiting to see how long it takes him."
"How long it takes me to what?" Caboose asked.
Unfazed by his partner's obliviousness, Tucker asked, "Caboose, do you notice anything different right now?"
Caboose stared at Tucker for several seconds without responding. Then, he turned to Church and did the same thing. "Oh! I know!" he declared, "You guys look different..."
"Yes," Church said, encouraging Caboose to go on.
Caboose continued, "You guys look different because you are not wearing your armor!"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tucker said hostilely.
Church attempted to calm Tucker, saying, "Don't be too upset, Tucker. That was a good first step for him."
Tucker ignored Church's remark and asked Caboose, "Have you seriously not noticed anything else about us? Like the fact that we've been turned into fucking cartoon horses!?!?"
"Oh, I thought you were always like that," Caboose replied, angering Tucker further.
"Please, explain how you came to that conclusion," Church requested.
"Well, since I've never seen you guys without your armor on, I just thought that you've been ponies this whole time! And you probably didn't tell me because you were too shy. That would explain why Tucker eats so many carrots!"
Church knew that there was no questioning with Caboose's logic. Instead, he sarcastically remarked, "Yes, Caboose. I've been a pony my whole life. I was born on a farm in Kentucky, and I pretended to be a human in order to join the military."
"I knew it!" Caboose said triumphantly.
"The only reason I eat carrots all the time is because they're good for my eyesight, and nobody ever lets me use the fucking sniper rifle!" Tucker said, directing his anger at Church.
"Oh, don't even start with that!" Church shouted.
"Wait a second!" Caboose interrupted, "Am I a pony too?"
Tucker sighed, "Yes, Caboose, you're a pony too."
Caboose looked down at himself, then smiled excitedly. "Oh, wow! This is amazing!" He said happily, "I'm so adorable! And I don't even need to wear shoes! This is, like, the greatest thing ever! ...Of all time!"
"I'm glad you're happy about this," Tucker said with little to no sincerity.
"Why so glum, Tucker?" Church asked condescendingly, "You haven't even made a single joke about giving ladies a pony ride."
"I only do that shit when I'm in a good mood!" Tucker snapped, "Stop using this as an opportunity to insult me! We're all in the same boat."
"We're on a boat? I forgot my sailor outfit," Caboose announced.
"Calm down, dude," Church said to Tucker.
"Calm down?" Tucker repeated angrily as he stomped a hoof on the ground. "I'll fucking calm down as soon as I have the same amount of legs that I was born with!"
"But now you can wear two pairs of pants at the same time," Caboose said.
"Tucker, when was the last time something bad happened to us that didn't eventually work itself out?" asked Church.
"I don't fucking know!" Tucker replied hostilely, "It's hard for me to remember when so much bad shit has happened to us over the years!"
"Exactly," Church said calmly, "This is just another day for us."
"I... guess you're right," Tucker admitted as he began to calm down, "But what are we gonna do about getting our bodies back? I can't pick up chicks as a horse!" Tucker thought about what he had said, then added, "Unless... they're into that sort of thing... which would be weird."
"How about we find out where we are and how to get back? Then we'll worry about how to get our bodies fixed," Church suggested.
____________________________________________________________________________
Simmons yawned as he lay sprawled out on his back in a clearing surrounded by trees. Donut was lying unconscious on his stomach beside him. Like the blues, both of them were without armor, and their bodies had been inexplicably transformed from human to pony!
Both of them had coats the color of their former armor, Simmons' being maroon and Donut's being pink. Simmons had a longer mane and tail than any of the blues had. His mane and tail were a shade of chestnut-brown. His dark-green eyes stood out in contrast to his maroon body and brown hair. Donut had a shorter, dirty blond mane and tail.
Simmons moaned and rubbed his temples. He was sore and tired. The last thing he wanted to do was wake up. He slowly opened his left eye and quickly realized that he wasn't in Blood Gulch any more. He was surrounded by tall trees, grass and flowers, none of which were present in the canyon. Simmons tried to stand up on his hind legs, but plopped back onto the ground as soon as he lifted his front legs. Something was wrong.
While still laying flat on the ground, Simmons looked to his right and saw Donut, the pink, unconscious pony, lying beside him.
"D-Donut? Is that you?" Simmons asked, receiving no response.
Simmons slowly looked over his own shoulder to examine himself. What he saw was not his body. Simmons held back the urge to scream, doing his best to assess the situation with logic. Something must have happened with the anomaly, he thought, We all must have touched it, and it transported us here! ...Either that, or it killed us and this is what hell is like. I'm stuck here with Donut so that wouldn't surprise me.
Simmons suddenly heard Donut moan, "Uh, what happened? I haven't felt this sore since-"
"Donut! You're awake!" Simmons interrupted.
Donut looked at Simmons carefully. "Simmons?" he finally said confusedly, "Why do you look like a pony? And more importantly, why do you have a tramp-stamp?"
Simmons was about to answer his question before he heard the tramp-stamp comment. Instead, Simmons looked back at his flank and saw a small picture of a blank computer monitor on it. "I don't remember getting that..." he said, "But I think I can explain the pony thing!"
"That's okay, Simmons," Donut said enthusiastically, "I don't remember getting this either!" He gestured to an image of a red bow-tie on his own flank.
"That's not what's important right now, Donut!" Simmons growled.
Donut was incapable of picking up the hostility in his friend's voice. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" he asked.
"It's not important!" Simmons snapped, "Focus, Donut, fo-cus!"
"Aw, come on, Simmons! It could be like a mystery! The mystery of the mysterious tramp-stamps!"
"The only 'mystery' I'm concerned about right now is where we are and why we're no longer homo-sapiens!"
"Do you think it has something to do with that temporal anonymity you found?" asked Donut.
Simmons sighed, "It's 'temporal anomaly,' Donut. It's not that hard to pronounce! To answer your question, yes. Obviously that's what sent us here."
"Well, Caboose said he had the proper ointment for that. Maybe we can ask him for help!" Donut suggested.
Simmons sighed again. "Donut, even if that was a good suggestion, we have no idea where anyone else is! They could have been taken anywhere else in the multiverse for all we know! They could be dead, or at the very least, gone forever! But fuck it. I know I'm not that lucky. All of the reds and blues are probably within a mile of us. That's how this stuff usually works out."
"But I thought you liked Sarge and Grif!" said Donut.
"I tolerate Sarge and Grif," Simmons corrected, "Just like how I'm tolerating you right now."
"Thanks, buddy! That really means a lot to me!" Donut said with a tear forming in his left eye.
"Yep, my second guess was right," Simmons announced, "This is definitely Hell."
"Aw, come on Simmons!" Donut said cheerfully, "It's not that bad!"
"Yes, it is that bad! I'm stuck in the middle of God-knows-where with a group of insufferable idiots! And because the Red Army has a strict humanoid only policy, I'll never be able to fulfill my dreams of becoming the leader of my own squad! That means I'll never be able to prove to my father that I'm not worthless and get back at that rotten bastard!"
"Wow!" Donut interjected, "That sounded like you have a few issues to work out."
"That good-for-nothing son-of-a-bitch!" Simmons grumbled.
"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Donut.
"Donut, I want a lot of things," Simmons said, holding back some of his aggravation, "I want my old body back. I want a promotion. I want a fully funded 401k. I want Grif to stop eating all of our food and blaming it on space raccoons. But if there's one thing, out of all the things, that I want the least right now, it's a conversation with you about my daddy issues!"
"Realizing you have an issue is the first step toward fixing it!" Donut said.
"I can't believe it," Simmons said, "You're actually making me miss the blues right now!"
____________________________________________________________________________
Grif was fast asleep, something that was not unusual to him. Unaware of what had happened, he enjoyed a peaceful sleep. Suddenly, he felt a painful force smack the back of his head. It felt as if he had been hit by a rock, but that was not the case. Following the jolt of pain, he heard Sarge yell at him once again.
Sarge was a bright red stallion, the same color as his armor, with a flat-topped grey and black mane. The black and green emblem of a sergeant was proudly displayed on his flank. Grif was a chubbier pony than Sarge with more mass and far less muscle tone, an obvious giveaway of his slacker lifestyle. He had a messy black mane and tail that was long and unkept. His flanks were partially covered with the image of a warthog's steering wheel.
"Grif! Wake up, you good-for-nothing slacker!" Sarge shouted, "We've got a situation!"
Grif moaned, "Let Simmons do it. I'm on break."
Sarge shoved Grif with his right leg. "I said, 'Get up!'" he shouted.
"Five more minutes," Grif grunted lazily. He turned over on his left side, refusing to even open his eyes.
Sarge thought for a moment and came up with an easy way to wake Grif. "Oh no!" He said with fake worry, "Donut's eating all the funnel cake! Whatever shall we do?"
Grif immediately opened his eyes and shot up onto all four hooves. "We have funnel cake?" he asked, "I heard you say funnel cake! Don't lie to me! Where's the funnel cake?" Grif looked around and quickly realized that he was somewhere he had never seen before. After blinking a few times to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, he turned to where Sarge had been shouting at him, and immediately fell onto his back in a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
Sarge narrowed his eyes angrily after witnessing Grif's reaction.
"Hey, look everybody!" Grif called out while he pointed one hoof at Sarge. "It's Clifford the big red Sarge! Ha-ha! This is too perfect! The look on your face is just too perfect!"
Sarge grimaced, "I'm not a dog, you orange buffoon! I'm a pony-horse-thing, and you are too!"
Grif slowly stopped laughing. "Wait... I am too?" he repeated. He slowly lifted his right hoof up to his eyes, and his laughter quickly changed to screaming. "AHHH!" he shouted, much to Sarge's amusement. He frantically looked over the rest of his body and saw that what Sarge had said was true. "What the hell happened?" he asked, "Where are we? Why am I naked and why don't I have any thumbs!?!?"
"I bet this was the work of those blue traitors!" Sarge said, stomping his hoof angrily.
"How are they traitors if they aren't on our team?" Grif asked, "Besides, I'm pretty sure it was that worm-hole thingy that we were sent to investigate, that thing that the blues had nothing to do with. Remember?"
"How dare you talk back to your superior!" Sarge shouted.
Grif sighed, "You know, it's been a really long time since I hated my life as much as I do right now."
"I hate this just as much as you do!" Sarge insisted, "Being stranded alone is one thing, but being stranded with you is just about the worst thing I can think of!" He looked up to the sky and cried, "Why, all-knowing red God? Why have you forsaken me? What have I done to deserve this?"
"Sarge, are you almost done? Because we should be looking for Simmons and Donut," Grif said tiredly.
Sarge ignored Grif entirely. "You could have just killed him!" he said to the sky. "We were just in a massive explosion. It would have been easy! But you didn't."
"Yeah, while you're busy doing that, I'm gonna go look for some locals to help us," Grif said.
"No!" Sarge yelled, "Don't even think about conversing with any natives! We could be deep in enemy territory right now!"
As the two reds argued, a blue pegasus and a purple alicorn flew overhead. They were both flying side-by-side at a leisurely pace, scanning the ground as they flew.
"My God! The blues have sent a search and destroy team!" Sarge cried, "Grif, prepare yourself for operation meat-shield!"
"Yeah, I'm not doing that," Grif said. He looked up to the two flying mares and yelled, "Hey, you two! Come down here! We're lost!"
"Grif! How dare you give away our position to the enemy!" Sarge scolded.
Twilight and Rainbow Dash hovered over them after hearing Grif shout. They both looked at each other for a moment, then descended down to where Sarge and Grif were standing.
"Great," Sarge said sarcastically, "Now they're closing in on us and it's all Grif's fault! I'm not even disappointed in him any more."
"Could you just cool your tits for five seconds, Sarge?" Grif asked sincerely, "I'm pretty sure these aren't blues!"
"We're in a bit of a rush," Rainbow Dash said impatiently.
"Oh, I'm sure you are!" Sarge growled.
Rainbow Dash studied Sarge with a quizzical look on her face.
"Just ignore what Sarge says," Grif advised, "He thinks you two are with the blue army."
"The... blue army?" Twilight repeated, "I can't say I've ever heard of that."
"We don't have time for this, Twilight!" Rainbow Dash said.
Twilight nodded, remembering that they were in a hurry. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but we're very busy looking for some of our friends," said Twilight, "You said you needed help, but we don't have time to talk."
Sarge leaned forward and grumpily said, "You can help us by explaining why your friend there is blue!"
"I was born this way!" Rainbow Dash immediately interjected with a mixture of anger and confusion.
"Blueness isn't something you're born with! It's a choice!" said Sarge, "A terrible, terrible choice!"
Grif tried to be more helpful. "Like I said, you should just ignore him. What we really need help with is finding two of our friends... Well, not really friends, just two people we tolerate. There's a flamboyant pink guy named Donut, and an even more flamboyant maroon guy named Simmons."
"First, explain why you've been talking so much about some 'Blue Army,'" Rainbow Dash demanded.
"Have you been living under a rock?" Sarge asked rhetorically. A red flag slowly rose up behind him and fluttered in the breeze. "The Blue Army is only the most diabolical, cowardly, and disorganized group of bluetards in all of the galaxy! And we are the Red Army, the most elite, and the most powerful military force that history has ever seen! It is our duty, no, our privilege to fight alongside each other on the battlefield to defeat the clumsy horrors of the blue menace!"
"Where did the flag come from?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"Do I hear music?" asked Twilight.
Sarge continued his speech. "For every red soldier is a shining example of bravery, courage, and valor that any man could hope to be! ...Except Grif."
"We've never heard of the Red Army or the Blue Army," Twilight said.
"Great jumping Jehoshaphat!" Sarge exclaimed, "There's only one explanation for this!"
"That the war between Red and Blue doesn't exist in the land of cartoon ponies?" Grif asked hopefully.
"No, stupid!" Sarge answered hostilely, "Clearly the Blues have developed some kind of diabolical mind altering ray-gun, that they used to wipe all memory of the Red Army, and make it seem as if we never existed!"
"If that's true, then why do they not know about the Blue Army either?" Grif asked, not expecting a logical response.
Sarge confidently replied, "Clearly the Blues are so incredibly stupid that they wiped out all memory of themselves by mistake!"
"I think there's a better explanation for this," Twilight interrupted.
"We do not have time for this!" Rainbow Dash reminded.
"We're going to have to make time," said Twilight, "Because I these ponies are exactly what we've been looking for!" She turned her attention to Grif and Sarge and asked, "Can you two tell me where you're from and how, exactly, you got here?"
____________________________________________________________________________
Meanwhile, an unfamiliar, dark-purple stalion walked through the markets of Ponyville. His cutie mark was a dark-red cross.
As he walked through the crowded streets with a devilish grin on his face, he heard a flower peddler call out to him from a small vendor's booth.
"Good day, sir!" The flower selling mare said with a friendly tone. She had a lovely assortment of roses, which matched her cutie mark. "I can't say I've seen you around here before! Are you new to town?"
The purple pony smirked. "Yes," he said with a deep, menacing voice, "I'm very new here."
"Well, welcome to Ponyville!" the rose mare said kindly, "I'm Roseluck. What's your name?"
The purple ponies grin deepened, revealing some of his teeth as his lips curled back. "My name is O'Malley!"