Hey all! Here it is. the last stream announcement post for the foreseeable future! The gang is getting together this Saturday at the usual time to sit down and talk about the last 8 years of working on barcast, our time in the fandom, and what the future holds for us as individuals.

You'll hear some con stories, behind-the-scenes shenanigans, and a variety of us probably crying and laughing at the same time as we remember the journey that brought us all the way here. We'll be answer some of your questions and reading the good by messages from the interview applications, from last week's huge stream. Also if you have more questions or want to share you fondest memories of the cast, we'd love to hear them!

Make sure to tune in this Saturday at 6:30PDT, 7:30MDT, 8:30CDT, and 9:30EDT to hear our drunken shenanigans!
https://www.twitch.tv/mikesnipe

Thanks for all the good times over the years, both the streams and in the Discord server.

1) Of all the people you've interviewed, is there anyone you wish you could go back and interview again?
2) Did you foresee the cast lasting as long as it has?
3) What are your favourites of each others' stories?

Well, as always, I have a question for each of the Barcast members:
If you were the very model of a modern major general, would you have information primarily:
A: Animal
B: Vegetable
C: Mineral

Gonna miss all of this, I’m not crying, you’re crying.

I don't think there's much else I can say that I already haven't. Love you guys and the podcast, but remember, it's only goodbye for good if you let it be.

So with that, I'll leave you all with the ending to my all time favorite television series.

Goodbye, fairwell, and amen.

7962019
Only question I'd probably wanna ask is what's the wildest memory y'all got together?

Other than that, it's been a dope ride. Thanks for everything, and I'm grateful I was here to witness it while it lasted.

Well will you all still keep up with Stuff on FIM Fiction and what do you all plan on doing next? oh and FOE Fics?

7962019
Much love to all of you for keeping this cast up and continually bringing quality content from your guys' streams. Always will be a fan regardless of this being the end.

Now with that out of the way, onto the questions/statements:

1. If you all had one thing you regret not doing as "the Barcast", what would it be and why?
2. For each of you, what is your favorite Barcast memory?
3. Who will still be writing on Fimfic and if it's not Flammenwerfer, why
are you not cooking good sir?
4. Anonpencil, I will always love your Broken Love series. Please write more but if not that's okay too I'll just re-read it again. There's no question there, that's just a suggestion.

If any of you are leaving the fandom, just know that we will miss you and I hope that your future endeavors will go well! As for those who are staying, hope your endeavors go well too.

7962019
Like Truman Burbank, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight.

What was the drink each of you had most often when doing the cast?

What's each barcaster's best impression and can we get a demonstration?

How do you feel about the legacy of this podcast?

Without the cast, who will be in charge of feeding Alex_?

<<< As you can see, I've dressed up for the occasion.

Hey Alex_ , remember that one time when I said that you should narrate my audiobooks? That offer still stands. You have the second-best narrating voice I've ever heard.

Hey Flam, remember that one time at BronyCon when I told you you were a snappy dresser?
Well, the truth is... I meant it. Stay classy bro.

Hey Ravvij, remember that one time when I was stalking you in World of Tanks for a while and you got super paranoid? Was that you or was I just traumatizing someone else with the same name?

Hey Milk, remember that one time we talked about dice? Like, that one and only conversation you've ever had about dice?

Hey Robcakeran53, remember that one time at the hotel party... oh wait, no, you probably don't.

Hey Pencil, remember that one time when we did the 50 Shades of Neigh panel,
and you were worried that you might pass out,
and I was just like, "Yeah, well... if that happens we'll handle it."
and then during the panel, Applejinx kept looking over at me, (away from the microphone) to talk,
and I had to remind him to speak *into* the microphone so everyone could hear,
and I accused him of having to look at me because he didn't have object permanence,
and that spawned that one story when you suggested the idea of a stallion not having object permanence and freaking out about not seeing his dick when it went inside a mare,
and despite it being a packed hall, the only pics were some low-rez grainy black and white photos?

Hey Priest, remember that one time when the BarCast had that meetup at the 2019 BronyCon where we (like a hundred of us) went to Pickle's Pub
and they were like wtf,
and had I pre-gamed the whole way over there,
and I stood up on one of the bar stools to say something
and you were worried that I was gonna fall off,
but I was like "Nuh uh!", and I didn't fall off?

Hey Pencil, remember that one time when you drew my first ever pony-sona?
I still have it! And someone actually colored it too!

Hey Enigma, how hyped are you for season 3 of Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid?
Also, remember that one time at BronyCon in Quills and Sofas when you guys were doing the flash interviews at like... midnight,
and I had been drinking all afternoon and evening and night
and I was trying really hard not to act drunk on camera,
and I was actually pretty articulate,
and you did a pretty good job too rolling with the bants?

Thanks for the past 8? years of laughs!

Thanks for all the crazy shit. :) Thanks for interviewing me. Just... thank you.

I've had a lot of fun over these past several years and I'm looking forward to your Netflix show when it comes out.

Here are my final questions:

1. For Enigma: What were your inspirations for You were supposed to SLAY the dragon, not LAY it!

2. For Enigma: How long did it take you to plan and write Slay The Dragon (hereafter abbreviated to STD)

3. For Enigma: Did you realize that "Slay" and "Lay" rhyme with each other, or was that just a nice coincidence?

4. For Enigma: STD is the 3,419th top-rated story on Fimfiction. What words of advice or support would you give to the authors of stories 3,420 to 255,300?

5. For Enigma: You should probably let people know there's a redux version of the reading by ScarlettBlade.

6. For Enigma: I was so inspired by your STD that I just had to create some fanart. How does this make you feel?

7. For the other Barcastians: Do you believe it was cosmic fortitude, or divine providence, that granted you the gift of being able to exist within Enigma's shadow for the past 8 years?

"Holy fuck, he's alive!?"

I know, I know, been a hot minute since I was here last but damn it, I ain't missing the end! Had some fun times especially back when Priest ran the Barcraft. (Does anybody even remember that? 2017-2019?) I just wanna say thanks for everything you guys, and I wish everyone the best going forward. While this will be the last call at the bar, the memories will always be with us.

And now, for the last time, my questions for all of you!

One - What is your favorite meal, snack, or foodstuff that is really unhealthy but so friggin' delicious?

Two - What is the biggest or weirdest fear that you have?

Three - Why is Bagged Milk the Best Milk?

Four - What is your one annoying habit?

Five - What's the theme song of your sex life?

Six - Watch Anime by chance? If so, what are your favorites? Or perhaps, most Hated?

Seven - Just how big is your porn stash?

Bonus Memory for Pencil by Rav! (Couldn't get the image to insert so here's a link.)

Hey guys! I’m really sad that the podcast is ending. You guys have been a presence in the fandom for so long that it felt like a staple of Fimfiction. I will admit that I regret some of the things I’ve posted in the past. While I’ve enjoyed making a meme of myself every single livestream to the point that I felt like an honorary member of the cast, there were times when I felt like I could have been more sincere. I want to take this as an opportunity to show my deep appreciation for all of you. I apologize for the length, but since it’s the last cast, I want to use the moment to pour my heart out and share my best memories with every member individually.

I will start with Milk. 

I remember when I met him at BronyCon 2019. Revisiting the memory now feels like unearthing a time capsule. I walked into the Quills and Sofas room for the Barcast meetup. It was packed, and searching for any familiar face would seem impossible. But, as fate would have it, the first person I saw was the man himself: MikeSnipe. My main man Milk. 

Flipping over my badge so he wouldn’t recognize me right away, I walked up to him and said, “Hey, Milk!”

Although I tore him from the conversation he was having, the simple recognition of his existence from a complete stranger put a light in his eyes. 

He held out his hand for me to shake and said, “Oh, hey! Who are you?” 

I graced his hand with my own, and with a clever smirk I said, “I’m the man here to punch you in the face.”

(Context: I told Milk in his DMs that I would be running from Texas to Baltimore to punch him in the face if he didn’t post a normal heart emote. Hearts are supposed to be red, dumbass. Not white.)

He reared back in surprise. “Whoa!”

That’s when I flipped over my badge. “It’s me, Muggonny!”

(Please note: at the time, I was only twenty and still had hair, so this was a younger, more joyful Muggonny.)

Recognition dawned on him, and the light in his eyes returned. This time, more overt. Like a lighthouse shining its beacon. We started with small talk. When we ran out of small talk, we had a conversation. When we ran out of conversation, we simply soaked in each other’s presence.

At that moment, an idea struck. “Hey, I have some eds back in my hotel room! Wanna kick back and watch some horses?” 

Boy, did he jump at the opportunity!

We were chilling in opposite beds (cuz no homo) and watching TV when he said, “Man, these edibles ain’t shit.”

I shot a look at him. “What are you talking about? You just had two!”

“Yeah, and they ain’t shit.”

“But I’m having deeply repressed sexual thoughts I don’t even have when sober! How can you say they’re shit when I’m currently going through the most exhilarating experience of my adult life? I daresay, good sir, have another!”

After thirty minutes, nothing happened. So, I offered him another. And another. Followed by another. Within that very hour, Milk had consumed ten edibles.

Only God knows the terror I felt when a certain set of words dribbled from his mouth like molasses. “Ain’t. Shit.” 

Scared and confused, I realized that I was having a bad trip. The idea that Milk didn’t think I was cool enough pervaded me.

“Okay, well… I’m going to turn in.”

I woke up an hour later to the sound of banging. 

I sat up in bed, and the first thing I saw was a homeless man hacking at the wall with an ax. I was confused because I thought Baltimore didn’t have trees, and I hadn’t given this man any money.

Milk was sitting at the end of his bed, watching My Little Pony and vaping.

“Hey, Milk,” I said. “Who is this guy?”

“Oh, he’s my drug dealer.”

“Oh? What did you buy off him.”

“Heroin.” 

An excited feeling sprawled up my spine, and I smiled. “So, how was it?”

“Ain’t shit.”

I deflated. “W-what?”

“So, I tried acid. Wasn’t shit. When acid didn’t work, I tried ether. And then I tried meth, then cocaine, then fentanyl, and then I tried Molly—who is a really cool person that provided me some anabolic steroids—and then I tried Mescaline. And you know what? WASN’T SHIT!!!!”

“Why is there blood running down your face.”

“I tried cutting my face with a razor blade so that I’d at least feel something. WASN’T SHIT.”

“Have you tried freebasing?”

“Wasn’t shit.”

“Ketamine?”

“Got a little bit of a buzz going, but wasn’t shit.”

“WELL WHAT IN GOD’S NAME DOES IT TAKE TO GET YOU OFF!?!?!?”

I silenced myself, knowing that I had accidentally announced my intentions.

Milk simply took a hit from his vape pen and pointed at the homeless guy. “Oh yeah, that’s what Priest here is for.”

Next, I want to talk about Enigma.

I first met Enigma in Brooklyn. It was the 28th of January, the year 1999. I had a hangover from a previous night of barhopping, and I much preferred to stay home in my apartment on the east side. However, some friends urged me to go out with them to a new cigar bar that just opened up down the block. As appalling as going to another bar sounded, I never had a cigar before.

It turned out you were supposed to puff the cigar smoke instead of inhaling it. After about forty minutes my already screaming stomach began caterwauling, and I ran for the bathroom. Once I emptied my stomach into a toilet stained with the abuse of various users, I concluded that I should go for a walk to clear my head.

I made it down to the East River when I spotted an empty park bench with a grandiose view of the Brooklyn Bridge. I sat there for something like twenty, thirty minutes as my head cleared. Then, just as I stood to leave, I heard someone screaming.

A man, wearing nothing but his underoos, ran along the pavement. I was so shocked by the stately sight of him that for a moment I didn’t register the gun in his hand. Once I did, however, it was too late. He was already in front of me, chest heaving. Drool dribbled down his chin like the tides of Spring. His hair, or what was left of it, danced in the air like ballerinas when they do their various poses and kicks on stage. His pupils were wide, eyes like two solar eclipses. I knew it then and boy, oh boy, do I know it now that the man I met that day was, undoubtedly, a crack addict.

“Give me your wallet!” he said, spraying saliva into my face. I thought of reaching for my handkerchief in my coat pocket to wipe the spittle off my glasses but thought better of it. The man was pointing a gun to my face, and any sudden moves and, well, no further detail needed.

“Alright, alright!” I shout.

I reached into my pocket pulled out my wallet. He snatched it, then did something that surprised me: he lowered the gun!

But that wasn’t what surprised me most. After he opened my wallet, he took out my Mastercard and threw it at my feet. I was astounded. Reaching into the billfold, he took out a huge wad of cash that should have added up to two hundred forty-five dollars. He threw that at my feet too.
He took everything out one by one, throwing it all on the ground. I didn’t pick up any of it. Not out of fear, but out of bewilderment. The entire time I stood there, jaw agape, staring at this man barely clinging on to his sanity.

Finished, he shut the wallet and held it up triumphantly. “Heh, heh!” he said nasally. “This’ll buy me lots of crack!”

This bewildered me even further. The wallet was only twenty dollars.

Before I could point this out to him, he said, “Thanks a lot, loser!” Then he gave me the gun and ran off in the same direction that he came from.

I stood there for something like two, maybe three minutes, and watched him run off into the city. 

When I could no longer see him, and when I was sure that he wouldn’t return, I relaxed.

“Boy, oh boy,” I said. “That man sure was an Enigma.”

Back in high school, FlutterPriest was the wimpiest kid I knew. He was so wimpy that any random person walking by would stop in their tracks to gape and say, “By God, that’s the wimpiest kid I’ve ever seen!”

And, he’d often respond with, “Dad, I can hear you.”

He always wore sweater vests handcrafted by his grandmother. One look at them and you’d be filled with a sudden urge to scratch all over. He had an Adam's apple that bobbed up and down to the rhythm of his voice, the voice itself nasally and shrill. He'd always comb his hair to the side like a private school villain's, but not exactly possessing the masculine traits to pull off such a look. He was twink by nature.

I'd always beat him up after school, me and the High Collar Gang. We called ourselves the High Collar Gang because we always wore our collars up high to show the world that we were cool. Our little group was a spit in the face to conformity, and Priest was as conforming as they came.

I remember one time, I stopped him in the halls and pushed him up against the locker. “What do you got there?” I said, noticing him clutch a My Little Pony lunch box to his chest. It had a pink pony with a technicolored mane. I noticed how the pony held a sort of… cadence.

“L-lunch!” His voice quivered.

“Well, I’ll just have to take it from you!”

Taking the lunch box from him, I opened it up and took out a Tupperware of spaghetti. “No!” he shouted. “My mom made that!”

“Good,” I chuckled, “I like home cooking!”

Then, I knocked him over the head with his lunch box, laughing on my way to the lunchroom as I ate his mom’s spaghetti by the handfuls. The last thing I remember from that day is that it had too much parmesan. Which was weird, because a parmesan shaker was included in the lunch box.

A day I vividly remember, however, happened fairly recently. I had been out of high school for ten years, and had just gotten fired from another job. 

“You’re a slacker!” My boss had said.

I was a man. Sure, my hairline was receding, and I may have put on a bit of weight, but I knew the best thing to do in a predicament such as mine was grit my teeth and say, “Well, another penny lost. Let’s strive for the nickel next time.”

I was walking home when I saw him. A man only vaguely familiar had turned the corner, heading in my direction. He had long, golden hair that glowed vibrantly in the sun. His Adam’s apple was no longer apparent, hidden under the guise of pure muscle. Speaking of muscles, he had galloping abs that accentuated his T-shirt. And he was carrying a lunch box that had a familiar… cadence to it.

“You!” I said, stopping in my tracks. 

“You,” he returned. A tumbleweed passed between us. “It’s… been a long time.”

I glared at him. “Those times are behind us. Ancient, as they say.” Then, a grin came over my face, and I couldn’t help myself. “But not as ancient as your mom’s pussy.”

“If my mom’s pussy is ancient, then I’m an archeologist.”

I blinked. “What?”

Walking up to me, he stared into my eyes. He held his hand out, and I shook it. I could feel pure energy shooting through my arm like electric currents. I wasn’t sure if I could take him in a fight. Not because I was in the presence of true masculinity, but because I felt something that I never felt before. Not even from my own father. That feeling was mutual respect.

I think he saw it in my eyes. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. The emotions were all over his face.

 “Do you want some spaghetti?” he asked.

And I said, “I’d love some of your mom’s spaghetti.”

This was the hardest memory for me to write because it involves the death of a friend near to my heart.

I still miss Rav sometimes.

He was the funniest guy I knew. He could tell a dad joke unlike any other, thanks to his godlike wit. One time I walked into his apartment while holding a bag of oranges. Glancing down, he looked at me and said, "Hey Muggonny!"

"What?" I replied, already knowing that he was about to take me on a ride.

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?" 

"Orange."

"Orange who?" 

Boy, if I remembered the punchline your gut would be bursting the way mine did that very day. Rav was like that. He could take the worst joke ever written and turn it on its head. 

Eventually, I had come to know him like a brother. We hung out so much that we played off each other with the kind of banter that only two people who are akin can share. I never told him, but I secretly hoped that I could be just like him someday. He was really cool and always wore the collar of his shirt up, not because it was cool but because he liked to let the world know he was dangerous. To him, the world was a villian, and he wanted the world to know that he'd spit in its face without a second thought.

Unfortunately, that dangerous lifestyle would be his undoing.

We were mountain climbing in the Himalayas. Before we began our ascent, I noticed that he didn't have any chalk powder, so I offered him some of mine. 

He slapped it out of my hands and yelled, "Tell hell with that! Learn to live!" 

I was so amazed by his coolness that I didn't think to suggest it a second time. It wasn't until we were twenty feet high that he realized his mistake. Hands slippery with sweat, he hit the ground with a sickening thud. I can still hear the noise to this very day.

"No!" I shouted, climbing down.

I ran up to him, tears in my eyes, covering him with my coat. "It's going to be okay Rav! You'll be fine!" 

Rav looked at me and coughed blood onto his chin. "It's time I told you..."

"It's time you told me what!?" I shouted, afraid he'd pass before I could hear his dying words.
"My funniest joke…"

My breath caught in my throat. He'd never told anybody his funniest joke before.

"I've been waiting for the right moment to tell you… and this one is perfect. But you have to promise me you won't tell anyone."

"I won't!" I choked.

He told it to me, and despite my tears, I let out a hearty laugh. It was the hardest I ever laughed, and even as I sit here writing this with a half-depleted bottle of whiskey next to my computer, I can't help but chuckle.

An hour later the paramedics arrived to pick up his body.

"Hey!" One of them said. "Isn't that Rav, the handsomest man in the world?"

"No," I said, my eyes dry and itchy. "You're thinking of a different Rav."

"Oh? Is it Rav, the movie star?"

"No, the other one!"

His eyes lit in realization. "Rav!? The funniest man in existence!?"

"Bingo," I said.

"Oh no, I can’t believe he's dead! Did he say anything to you before he died?" 

"He did. He told me his funniest joke." I couldn't help but chuckle. "It sure is something."

"Really? He never told anyone his funniest joke before! Tell it to me!"

I shook my head. "Sorry, but he made me promise not to tell." I was unable to restrain my smile. "Let's just say that there's this show… it's called Rick and Morty. Man, it was the funniest shit I ever heard."

I wanted to say something nice about Pencil. I’d love to say something nice about Pencil. Only, I have nothing nice to say about Pencil. Because she is part of one of my worst memories.

This is why I hate Anonpencil.

I invited Pencil to my birthday party. Everybody told me not to because she was creepy, but I didn't listen. We were fixing to cut the cake when she arrived to the party wielding a samurai sword still in its sheath. Thinking it was a gift, I smiled and waved at her, and she responded by laughing maniacally. Unsheathing the sword, it arced through the air and sliced my mom's head off. Blood gushed like a geyser, showering everyone with crimson specks. She fell over, limp. My scream was drowned out by a dozens. Everyone ran for the door, and that's when she really got to hacking and slashing. The floor became lubricated with blood as everyone slipped, and fell, and clambered over each other with missing limbs, her whole body covered with their body juice like the scene from Carrie, and all I could do was watch as my feet felt like they were ankle-deep in wet cement.

At one point, I remember yelling, “Pencil, put down the samurai sword!”

She turned to me and said, “Excuse me, it’s called a katana!” Before slicing off my dog’s face.

When it was all over, she turned to me, a delighted look on her face. My heart hammered in my chest, my body shook with adrenaline, and my fingers twitched in anticipation to fight her for that samurai sword. I flinched when she walked toward me, but to my utter amazement, she passed by and walked up to the table where my cake sat. Lifting a repugnant, blood-soaked, poorly manicured hand, she sank her fingers deep into the cake, tore out a huge chunk, and tasted it. 

"Eww!" she shouted. "Is this vanilla!? Gross! I'm glad your mom's dead!"

I fucking hate Pencil for ruining my birthday cake. >:(

And now we’re at the end. There’s no one left to talk about but Flammenwarfer himself.

I was working in my office at a talent agency when he came in. In one hand he carried a silver briefcase, in the other, he wielded nothing but his power and will. I was desperate for new clients, but not too desperate. Even though he had the passion, I had to make sure he had the talent.

So, I asked to see his act.

He set down the briefcase and pulled out a jar of homemade Vaseline. Taking off his pants, he scooped out a handful and slathered it against his penis. And then he started masturbating. When he was at the peak of euphoria, he took out a frying pan and jizzed into it. It wasn’t a small amount of jizz. It wasn’t an unrealistically large amount of jizz. It was at least two serving portions of jizz. 

He then took out an Easy Bake Oven and started frying it. While it sat there, a naked woman walked into the room. Squatting, she forced out a doogy the size of a 12-inch sub at Subway. Sweat beaded her face as gave anal birth to the forsaken fetus.

Flamm scooped it up with a spatula, threw it in the frying pan, and drizzled it with olive oil. While it fried, the woman bent over, and he started licking the shit from her ass. 

Okay, I was going to go into more elaborate detail, but seriously I can’t write this shit without vomiting. I’m sorry. Like, holy shit, I don’t have a strong stomach for this shit. I do feel bad because Flamm deserves the entirety of it, so I might finish it later and send it to him personally. Just know that they were supposed to eat the cum & shit omelet, and that Flamm was going to pull out an extremely racist sign that said, "Not safe for Twitch ToS."

Anyways, when they finished, they stood up and took a bow.

I lurched out of my seat and clapped. I clapped like I never clapped before, knowing that I had just witnessed an act that seconded the coming of Jesus. “That’s amazing! What do you call yourselves!?”

“The Aristocrats!”

Seriously, taking a moment to be sincere, when I first started posting to the cast, I thought you guys hated me. It wasn't until Priest told me at BronyCon 2019 that he loves my shitpost that I truly felt motivated to contribute to every cast. I'm glad I took part in this. I knew it wouldn't last forever, and in a way, I saw the end coming well before it actually happened. And when it did, I was still surprised.

Each of you have unique personalities, and removing even one of you would drastically degrade the quality of the podcast. I'm happy you guys are ending on your own terms. Most fandom podcasts--many modern TV shows--can't say that they have that privilege. The fact that you guys have managed to go on for this long is amazing.

I'm glad I got my interview in before the time came. It felt like a dream come true (only not because FUCKING PENCIL WASN'T THERE REEEEEEEEE). I will continue to support anything you guys do in the future, and I hope you all live long lives. Love ya'll. <3

How youre day.

Proud of you guys for all the work you put in for so many years. And for putting an end to it on your own terms. I'm sure it'll be a cherished memory for years to come. I raise a parting glass to the Barcast.

Drunk viewer with his eyes on fire,
And his smile so bright.
And his hands are typing in chat.
He's shitposting with delight.

And on the screen there's a Barcaster,
Screeching out a laugh.
What you see and what you will hear,
Will last you for the rest of your stream.

And it's sad, sad, so sad.
There ain't another round.
And it's sad, sad, so sad.
All your friends gather round.
Because the Barcast left town.

The Barcast left town, left town.
The Barcast left town, left town.

Thanks for the decade of fun, guys. Reposting this from last stream's discord chat in case you guys missed it.

I didn't have a lot of time on our last little mini-interview and didn't want to spend a while rambling, so I just wanted to quickly reiterate how much you guys have meant to me. I know we may not talk often, but it speaks volumes about your characters as a whole that every time I come back, it feels like I'm with a second family and I can just ease right back into chatting. You're all so welcoming and caring, and you guys helped me open up more at a time in my life when I was so shy I hardly even voice chatted. Thank you for providing us with ten years of amazing memories, and here's to more years of friendship <3

I have five questions for you:

1. What was your favorite Something Emo and Edgy joke, or story?
2. What's one thing each of you learned from doing this podcast that you wouldn't have otherwise known?
3. Y'all are all ten years older than when you started this. What was the biggest milestone moment in each of your lives during that decade?
4. Enigma, how does it feel to know I have the 12th highest rated porn story on the site and yours is only 23rd out of 9,122? Now, also tell me how it feels to know none of Flam's porn stories are as highly rated as ours? Flam wishes he was as Chad as us. Fuck you, Flam, when are we watching tech stuff together you chimp.

Gotta throw in a random ass question now to keep tradition alive for the last show.

5. What's your favorite fast food chicken sandwich?

7962020
I'll take care of you, my beloved 😍

Hi, friends!
I don’t have a question, though there is something I’d like to share with all of you.
I’ve been meaning to write since your announcement, but I’ve found it difficult to express my thoughts and feelings.

You see, I’ve lost a few friends over the past couple of years, and it felt like another loss when I learned the Barcast was coming to an end. Though I know you all will still be here, it still felt as if more of the friends here were moving on and made me feel sad and alone.

Then I thought of the first time I met all of you, in particular Pencil, at BronyCon 2014, my first con. I was concerned that I wouldn’t fit in (being much older than most of the fandom) but she was gracious enough to endure my fawning over her amazing writing and welcomed me with kindness and respect. And it was the same with Milk and Flam when I met them. It really touched me deeply that all of you made me feel so special and included.

And it’s been that way each time we’ve met or talked here. You always remember me and that you care. It means more than I can ever say in words alone.

You are all terrific people and great friends. I wish you good luck in all you do and want you to know I’ll be here for you just as you’ve been here for me.

Take care. *hugs*

1. A large portion of my writing has revolved around the idea of dealing with struggling with losing friends, family, brothers in arms, and relationships. For some reason, it feels like the end of The Barcase is another broken relationship. It's over. After tonight, we won't have "This" to come back. Presenters, guests, question-askers, and listeners will be a thing of the past, and we'll all be formally known as those we used to be from each other. It's selfish to want you all to stay or have the world change for the small corner of our fandom to remain, but we can't make such demands or expect these relationships to last simply because we wish them to. We're all going to miss "This," and likely creep in and out when the phantoms haunt us enough to see if some miracle revives what has kept us coming back.

That's a long and drawn-out build-up to my actual question, which is... Shit, I forgot. Total stroke-moment here. I guess something about how you all are awesome, and I'm going to miss having your show to look forward to on the weekends. Hopefully I'm not in the hospital when you read this.

2. I misspoke earlier about the remix of Spike singing the national anthem. It was only A changeling Can Change, which was put together by JoinedTheHerd. The vocals sound a little cleaned up with a bit of glitch-hop (I think that's the right term), and the instrumentals aren't flat and uninspired. If anything, use that to lessen the hate because the fandom could make something beautiful out of it.

3. Nine. Fucking nine.

4. For the group, are there any independent audio projects expected in the future? Probably not intervening formats, despite podcasts being easy as everyone knows, but maybe something else?

5. Since this is your last show, who is one guest you would have wanted to bring on if only to bash, insult, or tear down because of something did, said, or thought needed to be brought down a peg or two? Go ahead. Vent.

6. Also, lastly, even though I'm still team Spike, I'm also team Barcast... so... I made this for the team who cheated won. And don't worry. It's royalty-free so you won't get hit for the audio. And by royalty-free, I mean that it's a song I wrote.

Y'all better do a reunion special one of these days. But in all serious thanks for everything. I’ll just close out with this. Good luck and goodnight.
https://youtu.be/SJPLnuYNA6A?si=RNme3it1Y5wHEDUZ

One last set of questions for everyone:

How you're day?~

What are things you would do to/with Lyler?

Fuck, marry, kill, hug, adopt: Barcast Members!

Can you make airplane noises and talk dirty, please? :3

You are Rizzmatic Gyattaku, and you are repping your daily sigma looksmaxxing routine when Chadderpriest and Ganonpencil caps your Caramelldansen sesh in 4k and absolutely mogs you with their level five gyatts. That fanum tax made you feel so cringe ong fr. You can’t help that you have a negative canthal tilt and no amount of mewing will give you an alpha jaw or hunter eyes. They lowkey exposed that the real Gyattaku is just a yikes soy beta in Ohio.

Sipping your grimace shake in yo crib, you decide to step up the rizz game and start cooking for the next Skibidicast. You're turnt and going to prove that you're the omega rizzler. Boobapilledwerfer and Cabbij are gonna kneel to your gigachad aura. You hope it works for the alpha Milk because he's straight up bussin. Would you rather hit them with the og fidget spinner dabs while doing orange justice, or confess your love of skibidi toilet and that the the real pee is stored in the friends we made along the way?

Feel free to ask yourselves some of your favorites from the list! >w<;;
My personal favorites were the ones that nearly sent Flammenwerfer to the hospital. XD

I would have stayed in anonymity and without interaction if it weren't for you guys. Your friendship with each other were so beautiful to witness across the screen, and I wanted to be a part of it. Thanks for all the memories and a great decade! <3

I don't really know what to say.

I really wish I had discovered you guys 5 or 10 years ago. Looking back, I see how much my options have been limited by my mental health problems. I've done a few things, like Pony in a Box and the Ciderfest event, but in a better timeline I would have done so much more. Pony in a Box would have reached its own 10-year anniversary, with an incredible number of productions under our belt. I would have visited many more cons, met more people and done more things.

Sorry if I'm rambling.

How does it feel, reaching this point?

And do you have any words of advice for people like me, people who've been struggling and who hope that the future will be better?

And of course, congratulations to all of you! Not just for making the podcast itself, but for all the friendships you found along the way.

I know I wasn't ever an active member of this community and have neglected to post any questions for guest interviews for years. However, I still wish to let you know that I have appreciated the 8 years of joy provided by this cast. Seeing it end has made me think back to the naive and clueless 18-year-old that I was when discovering this channel and the long journey, and lessons learned, to get to this point in my life. All good things must come to an end eventually. While I will miss the Barcast, I am eager to see what you all create in the coming days. Before the night is up, I do need to ask an important question.

How do you feel about potatoes?

P.S. Apologies if this doesn't come off as heartfelt as intended. I suck at writing down my thoughts.

A few questions...

What are you going to do now you have more time on the weekend?

Was it all worth it?

What did it cost you?

Thank you for the effort you put in, the entertainment and all the shitposting. We all have dark days when apathy is about the best we can reach, but the Barcast and ponies in general made those times easier to deal with.

*salutes*

Remember Mug Shots?

btw I still have your signed poster on my wall. And the Barcast cushion (ignore the stains).

y'all are amazing we will definitely miss you all. And for the question what is your favorite ships you have written in your fics. (personally love Anon/Red from flutterpriest)

I wrote a short Emo and Edgy story as a send-off for you guys, if you'd be alright with reading it. If not, that is totally fine since it's not shit-faced shitfics, but I humbly request you read it off-stream in that case!

The First Annual Apple Family Barcast and Grill Festival

ily bb~

Okay, for one, Pencil, way to absolutely fucking humble me. Like, holy fuck, you held up a stark, cold hard mirror of truth about the person Shakes used to be, and I really wanted to punch the person that you showed me from that night. But I'm glad that you recognize that "Shakes" the character, the larger-than-life hyper-flirting macho-man architype character is just that; A character.
Hearing Priest say that I am actually a "good dude" goes straight into the foundation of my eggshell-fragile totally rock-solid ego.

But I have to ask all of you,
even if you've already answered it before...
Wiping: Sitting or standing?

What funny or weird things happened to you guys at a convention? Anything you witnessed?

WHAT'S YOUR TAKE ON MANGOS

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R'member

9... again.... I did it first. Y'all are slow.