//------------------------------// // "Who Wants to Read a Comic Book About a Bunch of Stupid Ponies, Anyway?" // Story: Pajama Sam: Friendship's Not Tragic, in Fact it's Like Magic! // by Architect Ironturtle //------------------------------// I do not own MLP or Pajama Sam. All rights go to Hasbro and Humongous Entertainment. Titlecard "Stop right there, Igneous Isolater!" Pajama Sam (known as Sam to his family) read aloud to himself as he sprawled across his bed, "You days of trapping people under lava floes are over!" "That's what you think, Pajama Man!" Igneous cackled, his partially melted stone shell glinting in the artificial light of his lair, "When my bomb detonates the entire Yellowstone Caldera will go up, trapping people all alone under the ash for years to come!" "Do you mean this bomb?" Pajama Man asked, holding up the explosive while Igneous gaped. "Yes! Go, Pajama Man, Go!" Sam cheered, and turned the page, but before he could continue reading- DING-DONG! "Mark's here!" Sam shouted, springing out of his bed and bouncing off the wall as he went out the door and leapt down the stairs, nearly bowling over his mother as he pushed past her to the front door. He flung it open (causing it to bang against the door jamb) and pounced. "Brother!" "Waugh!" squawked Mark as he stumbled backwards, Sam clinging to his chest, "I missed you too squirt, but jeez!" "I'm glad you're back, it's been so quiet around here," Sam explained as he let go and landed on the porch, then froze, "Mark," he asked slowly, not quite believing what he was seeing, "What on earth are you wearing?" Mark was wearing a shirt. A black shirt. With a blue pony with a Rainbow mane surrounded by the words, "This shirt is now 20% cooler." "Only a tribute to the greatest show ever," Mark said as he stepped around Sam and hugged Mom, "I'll show you later, promise." Sam just gaped. 88888888 "Moooommmm, Mark's hogging the TV!" whined Pajama Sam as he tried to swipe the remote from his big brother, who was holding it as high as he could without standing up and relinquishing his spot in the best recliner. "Come on squirt, you know my favorite show is on," Mark shot back, trying to push Sam off his lap with his free hand, "It's the season finale, too!" "Yeah, your stupid show about the girly horses," Sam griped as he lost his balance and dropped onto the floor with a plop, covering his eyes to block the late day sun. "Now play nice, you two," their Mom chided from the dining room, "Sam, you know Mark's only going to be home for a few days. If you want to spend time with him, now's your chance." "That's the problem," Sam shouted, "All he wants to do is watch his dumb show! I mean, we could be talking about the best super hero ever, but noooooooo, it's all-this!" Sam gagged as he waved a hand at the TV, sticking his finger in his mouth and dramatically falling over. "You're so weird, Mark." Mark sniffed, "I'll have you know that it's a perfectly good show if you just gave it a chance. If you're not interested, that's your problem. Oh, quiet, it's starting." Sam started singing to drown out the TV, but a glare from Mark silenced him. Instead, he ran upstairs and slammed the door to his room before flinging himself onto his bed, one question running around inside his mind. Why? Why did Mark like that stuff? He used to be cool! They'd spent countless weekends reading and discussing Pajama Man while sorting comic books in his room, or watching Pajama Man and Friends in the living room. Then Mark went to college, and Sam had the house to himself. It was weird, and quiet, and a little lonely, and frankly Sam couldn't wait until Mark came home for Thanksgiving. Then Mark walked in the door and drop-kicked all of Sam's plans out the window! Meanie pants. Sam picked up a nearby comic and flipped through it absently. It was an old issue of Pajama Man, one of the first in fact, featuring Darkness, the most iconic of Pajama Man's opponents. Sam had met Darkness once, the night after he read it for the first time, and the guy was nothing like he was portrayed in the story. In reality, he was pretty nice, and a mean Cheese-and-Crackers player. About an hour later, Sam wasn't really keeping track, Mark knocked at his door: two short taps, followed by a harder one. It was the signal they'd made up that meant he had something for Sam. Sam considered ignoring it, but after a few seconds his resolve crumbled and he went to answer. "Hey, Sam," Mark said, shifting from foot to foot like he did whenever he was nervous, "I know you don't think much of my new..." he trailed off, searching for the right word. "Obsession?" Sam asked. He'd just learned that one, and thought it would fit pretty well here. "Ehhh, let's go with that. Anyway, I really think you would like it if you just tried it, and, since I know you love comics so much," he stuck out his hand, which was holding a comic book, "I thought this might be more your speed." Sam looked at the comic, but didn't move to take it, even when Mark used his best winning smile. Eventually, Mark sighed and straightened up, "Well, if you change your mind, just let me know." Sam nodded, not trusting his voice, and slowly closed the door. 88888888 "Sam, Mark, it's time for dinner!" Mom shouted, and Sam raced into the dining room, taking his spot between the light switch and the table. Tonight was Mac and Cheese Night, and Sam loved cheese. He kicked his legs against the bottom of his seat, waiting patiently for Mark to appear so they could start eating. The seconds stretched into half a minute, and longer still: no Mark. Dad called for him again once, then twice, and Mark still didn't come downstairs. "Sam," asked Mom, all sugary sweet, "Would you be a dear and go fetch your brother? It is his favorite, after all." Sam nodded and bounded up the steps, a small knot forming in his gut. Mark never left his family hanging, that just wasn't his style, so what had happened? The upstairs was way too quiet as Sam crept down the hall, passing under the attic that led to the Weather Factory before slipping past his room, then his parent's room, and finally reaching the guest room, formerly Mark's, at the end of the hall. The door was open a crack, and a soft golden light shone through it. Sam grasped the doorknob and started to push, but stopped when he heard strange noises coming from inside. He stopped pushing, and instead put his eye to the crack. Mark was standing in the middle of the floor, his back to his open suitcase on Sam's right and a comic book grasped lightly in one hand. Standing in front of him was... a girl? Sam had never seen her before, and she looked pretty strange with her charcoal black skin and bright green hair. She was smiling at Mark in a way that made Sam's hair stand up even more than usual before she leaned towards him and- EEEEEEEEWWWW! THEY'RE KISSING! Sam made a horrible face and turned away, although a morbid fascination eventually forced him to look back. Yep, they were still being gross. Then the strange girl pushed, and Mark fell back onto his suitcase with a cry of surprise, and passed right through it, disappearing into its depths, the comic book falling from his grasp and onto the floor. The girl laughed, a high pitched, chittering sound that sent shivers down Sam's spine, and flashed green. Her clothes evaporated as her body contorted, hands becoming hole-ridden hooves as a horn grew out of her forehead and translucent fly wings appeared on her back. Her laugh deepened and distorted, then she lunged forward and dove into the suitcase after Mark. She vanished from sight, leaving only an empty bedroom with the door open a crack, a crack at which Sam was standing in open horror. Sam walked into the room and picked up the book Mark had dropped. It's title read "My Little Pony Friendship-" the rest was covered by the two ponies on the front page, one of which was the very same pony who had just taken his brother. Sam may not have known who she was, but he knew her type. His brother had just been captured by a supervillain! Awesome! Wait, no, not awesome. Sam turned and sprinted for his room. "This looks like a job for-" His door banged open and he jumped over a pile of socks on the floor and started combing the room for his cape, bouncing all over the small space before he finally found it just inside his closet and spun like a tornado as he shouted,"Pajama Sam!" he briefly considered grabbing his mask, flashlight, and lunchbox, but ever since he'd lost them in the Land of Darkness he'd been leery of bringing them on another adventure, and quickly decided against it, instead spinning on his heel and racing into the hall. He ran back to his brother's room and stood in front of his suitcase, which was filled with more pony comics. He flipped through one of the comics for the right name to use before proclaiming, "Queen Chrysalis. Your days of kidnapping and grossness are over! Fear not, brother Mark. I shall go forth into," more flipping, "Equestria and vanquish the evil" flip-flip-flip, "Changelings and save you from a horrible fate!" Sam liked the word fate. It had a nice, important sound to it. He jumped back a pace, then took three steps and dove into the suitcase headfirst. WHUMP. "Ow!" And fell right back out again as comic books went flying everywhere, zipping behind the furniture and out of sight. A ripple passed through the room, as Sam stumbled back, holding his head in pain. "What?" he muttered, then frantically began pawing at the bottom of Mark's suitcase. "No, no, no! I have to follow him. I've done this before, why can't I now!?" He beat his fist against the suitcase in frustration, before inspiration struck and he leapt up to fetch the one comic that hadn't been in the pile. At least, that's what he would have done if he hadn't run face first into a wall of hair, the recoil knocking him flat on his back. "Oooow," he groaned, rubbing his head, "What hit me?" "No you silly, you hit me!" said an unfamiliar female voice. Sam looked up and saw... ok, just how hard did he hit his head anyway? Because he was pretty sure ponies were not supposed to come in that shade of pink. "You need to get to Equestria to save your brother, right?" The pink horse continued, seemingly oblivious to Sam's confusion. "Um, yeah, that's right," he said, tripping over his words a little, "but how did you-?" "Spoilers!" The pony said with a grin, tapping a hoof against her lips, "But that's not important right now anyway. You have things to do and places to be, and I have to get back before anypony,"--Sam winced--"notices I'm gone. Follow me!" With that, she spun in place, bounced over to the closet, yanked it open and disappeared inside. A faint "WHEEEEEEEE!" reached his ears almost immediately after. Shaking his head to clear it, Sam wobbled over to the closet and peered inside. He'd used closets before, more than once actually, but he wasn't aware of Mark's leading anywhere. Maybe he'd just missed it the first time? In any case Sam took a breath, let it out, and stepped into the darkness, closing the door behind him. Nothing apparent happened. Sam, starting to feel annoyed, took another step, thinking, If that stupid pink pony managed to trick me-: nothing greeted his foot. As Sam fell into the endless abyss, four thoughts chased each other around his skull. The first was, "Don't worry, Mark, I'm on my way!" the second, "Please don't let the ponies get me!" and the third, "Well, here we go again." The fourth was just a simple, "WWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"