• Published 25th May 2013
  • 1,409 Views, 21 Comments

Another One Bites the Dust - ThatMrSomeGuy



Don't you hate when you wake up as a pony? It really ruins your day. Oh, and also the rest of your life. Part of the PonyEarthverse.

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1. Death with a Hint of Cherry

Why did free fall feel so familiar?

* * *

(What I say in bold for the following is both the memory and real time.)

"18 seconds, not bad at all for a filly's first spin on a dizzitron."

"I know I can do better than that. Tell me mommy, how can you fly so good when you're spinning so fast?"

"The trick to it is very simple kid. You don't fight the spinning, you use the spinning to your advantage. Take that momentum to get control. Fighting it only hurts your flying. This goes with everything. You suddenly find yourself loosing control, go with the flow."

"I want another shot. I need to prove I've got what it takes to be a Wonderbolt!"

"That's my girl. Now get back up there and make me proud."

The multi-rotational dizzitron served one purpose, distortion. It spins ponies before launching them into the air. This time, I will conquer it.

Round and round the dizzitron spun. Then, the fling. I saw my world spinning around and around out of control.

I closed my eyes.

The world stopped spinning. I could feel my body being catapulted. I felt the momentum. Now, I needed to go with it.

I spread my wings in the direction I was falling.

Now that I'm in the rhythmic flow, I need some way to fly back to the runway cloud.

I tilt my wings back up to get a view of my runway.

* * *

Wait, what just happened? The scene was really obvious, I was just in disbelief. Without any prior experience, I had opened my wings and pulled up from my dive. I was flying. I was actually flying. I barely even had to think about. I just did it.

"YEEEEEEEAAAH! THIS IS AWESOME!"

Yes, I did get carried away a bit. I acted a little immature, true. But I believe this is justified. Flying was a definite major perk to my new body. I looked at the world behind me as the port started to distance from me. I looked at the lightning zigzag trailing my flank. It's kinda like Rainbow Dash's rainbow trail when she flies fast enough only the visuals were different. I could just insert more descriptions like 'my feathers rustled through the wind' or 'my brain got shoved back to my feet from the speed', but I'll spare the monotony and say I enjoyed flying.

Higher and higher, I went. I could touch the sky, but I there was no reason to rush. I needed to find a cloud. I was tired.

As I placed myself on a cloud, I vaguely remembered what just happened when I fell. My old memory of Wonderbolt training had come back to me. I would never forget my mom's advice that day. Except my mom isn't a pegasus who gives tips on how I, her daughter, should fly. I began to freak out. It's fine that I got new memories of the pony I embody, but getting them mixed up with what I do know was something I didn't want to happen. I sure didn't want to loose myself. Wait a second. Just because I got new memories doesn't mean they're going to replace the ones I already have. Even in my head, my tone didn't seem so reassuring. Still, it was enough to prevent me from staying awake. While drifting to much needed rest, I kept repeating in my head, I'm the only me. No one can take that away from me.


Date: Thorsday
Time: 8:13 AM
Location: Above Santa Monica

I didn't exactly notice before because I was too drowsy, but the cloud I slept on was very very fluffy. Thank Celestia for pegasus magic. I spent a few minutes messing around with the moldable floating pillow, including bouncing on it reforming its shape. I can get easily amused. But I spent enough time messing around. I just wanted to use some time to try pegasus magic out.

Yes, though I did seem more carefree than before without all the second thinking about staying on the ship or leaving, but now the isolation was actually really nice. I did just depart from my family, but for some reason, that didn't really worry me that much. I do, in fact, love my family. At this moment however, it was almost as if I didn't care about them, that I didn't care about anyone anymore except me. It was very uncharacteristically egotistical of me, but that's just how I felt.

Refreshed, rejuvinated, and ready to take on whatever the world had for me...*growl*...starting with an empty stomach. As I recalled, I had a delicious box of Poptarts waiting for m-

"Cherry?"

I had to make sure. Those were, without a doubt, cherry flavored Poptarts.

"Cherry!?"

I got so mad, I could have sworn I saw steam come out of my ears. I can't emphasize this enough. I...HATE...cherry Poptarts. I don't care what anyone tells me, it is a Poptarts flavor straight from Hell. Greg knew I hated them as well. That's what really pissed me off. I would rather eat the crap that was on Fear Factor (I miss that show) before eating cherry Poptarts. It was food only for the direst of rations. I needed some real food. Now stood my first challenge of the day...finding food. (Cherry Poptarts don't count! They need to be edible to count!)

I was left but no choice but to eat at a restaurant, and I knew just the place.

Date: Thorsday
Time: 8:27 AM
Location: The Best Restaurant in the Whole Freaking World, Santa Monica

The Steak-n-Bacon, the best meat-related restaurant you'll ever find in LA, maybe even on planet Earth. The name says it all, bacon. The Steak-n-Bacon is known for it's tasty assorted fresh deli, meat on top of meat on top of meat. It wasn't only bacon there either. Any delectable meat you can think of, they have. I remember coming to the place once 2 years ago. It was a match made in heaven. So why, when I walked into the door to get a whiff of that meaty goodness, did it smell so TERRIBLE?

Oh yeah, new body. I looked down at my green fur. I know it seems odd I had this body for less than a day, but even the most bizarre things tend to slip my mind once I've been doing it for quite some time nonstop. I had a feeling every now and then I'd have to remind myself I'm still a pony.

I was about to walk away heartbroken for the fact that I could no longer enjoy one of my best things of my humanhood, but then I saw someone approach me. His shirt had the outline of a popular rainbow-maned pegasus.

"You're one of them!" The brony said it almost too excitedly. I understand that this is not very common, but there was no need to call me one of them. It just seemed unusual the way he said it. He was probably just overreacting and not thinking straight now that he noticed a pony. I'd better get used to the unusual reactions of people seeing a living technicolored pony for the first time.

"Want a free breakfast?"

"How generous of you. I'd like that, thank you." I blushed. It's nice to know that I could count on the brony community during these tough times. As strong as my will was to leave and take a breath of clean air not clogged with the smell of meat, my determination to eat free food and make some new friends already on my first morning kept me walking alongside the brony.

The guy didn't come alone. We walked to a table with his two friends, also with brony shirts. They all looked like they were in their early 20s. One had his hair like Zexion from Kingdom Hearts, only his was partially dyed red with a lot of his original black still showing. His hair was smaller too, it just had the same shape. At least his hair didn't defy the laws of physics unlike most Final Fantasy-related game characters. The other guy had some huge ass headphones around his neck. It almost looked like it was choking him because of how fat his neck was. He was polishing the lens of a fancy camera with a huge boom mic on it. He looked like one of those cliche fat tech people with all of that film equipment on him. All of them were staring at me like I was some kind of mythical creature...Oh yeah, I was. I sat down like a person (also known as "Lyra style" in pony form). The positioning had a weird feeling to it, almost completely new. My uncomfortable shifting had no avail. I stuck with the uneasy sitting stance so I wouldn't have to make a scene.

Everyone (except me) already had their food right in front of them. I tried my best to not to smell them in fear of throwing up a little. A moment of silence for the passing of my love for meat products.

As I read every meal, my heart sank. I was down to the vegetarian menu, made specifically for that one misplaced meat hater in a meat-centric restaurant. Never thought that I would be that one misplaced vegetarian. I felt so embarrassed when I placed the order.

"I'll have the omelette combo, vegetarian." It took all my might to mumble out that last bit. A part of me died inside by chanting that word.

As I waited for my food, the others were nearly finished with theirs. The silence made the place even more uncomfortable.

"Wow," Headphones guy finally said with his mouth full of food, "It's nice to actually meet one of the characters of the show."

I gazed right at him in awe. I didn't pay enough attention to everypony from the show when I first watched it. "You know what character I am?"

That must have startled him because he clasped his hands over his mouth as if he said something he shouldn't have. Perhaps I was too eager when I said that, but he was certainly a jumpy fellow.

"He means," the guy in the RD shirt jumped in the conversation, nudging his friend, "That he thinks he reminds you of one of the main characters. He only just got into the show and all."

It was something about how the RD guy jumped in to cover his friend's error that made me wonder why it mattered. Even for a group of bronies, they were acting so tense. Hopefully it would be the only time I got this peculiar treatment. While I was thinking, I noticed that they were continually exchanging glances at each other. It resolved with them nodding heads. Something was definitely not right here.

"What are you-"

My mouth was covered by some kind of cloth. What the hell do these guys want with me? My body slowly turned to off mode, barely able to catch the last words I heard.

"Nighty night."

* * *

Date: ??????????
Time: ??:?? ??
Location: ?????????????

“Your kind has brought great shame upon us. Now, we are left with no choice. You have not heeded our warnings. It is time we showed you what we’ll do to one of your own.”

I couldn't really think straight. I had this real massive headache every time I tried thinking so much. I had to take it slow. First thing's first, where was I?

"PAPA will rise!"

I shifted my head only to realize there was some sort of bag placed over it. The tone and content of the person's monologue sounded like some terrorist speech. I won't lie. By then, I was scared shitless. All the while I was shivering and whimpering at the thought of being tortured for the public, likely on camera. I began beating myself up in my head.

Stupid humans. I knew I shouldn't have trusted them. My else bulged a little after realizing what I just said. Humans. I never said that word that way before. I even knew I said it with such hateful passion, too. I knew that being a pony could slightly adjust behavior even to the point where I'd no longer consider myself one of them, but this...this was pure racism and I meant every word of it.

“You see this?” The man with the ski mask removed the bag on my head. It was definitely the voice of the guy who had that Rainbow Dash shirt from before. “This is what will happen to the rest of you. We will set an example; we are the purifiers of the next generation. We are the kings of our futures. These, things, are nothing but a nuisance. Soon, just nothing.”

I needed to squint because of the sudden let in of light. Not to mention that brightness went swell with my headache. When I was able to see, the guy who formerly wore the RD shirt was talking into Headphones's camera, now planted on a tripod and recording.

“Let this be a lesson to all of…I can’t do it Bill.”

Wait...what?

“What?" Bill (Headphones) poked his head up from behind the camera. "You joined PAPA, Terry. You saying you ain’t willing to harm a pony?”

“No it’s not that. It’s this…fucking…mask.”

“Don’t take it off now. You’re on a roll.”

Terry removed the mask and revealed his sweaty face. I had been tricked. These people weren't a bunch of terrorists. They were a bunch of actors. That minute of rebooting my brain made me think that I was in the presence of scary badasses. I noticed the movie scene zoom out and now found myself in a set on cut.

“How ‘bout you wear this damn mask then? I can barely do anything with this on. It’s scorching hot with it on and I just can’t do it.”

“You gonna put that mask back on right now. My mom took her time to knit those by hand.”

“Fuck your mom. I ain’t putting it on.”

As if on queue, the basement door opened to reveal the mask maker herself. Boy, did she look pissed. “You ungrateful lousy excuse for a son. ‘Mom, can you make me masks?’ ‘Don’t worry mom. My friends are going to put them to good use.’ I haven’t heard one going thing from your mouths.”

“I didn't insult your work, mom."

Despite my predicament, I couldn’t help but intervene. “You know,” I said. “I think what you made is lovely.”

Yes, that was very poor and stupid of me to do something at a time like this, but I was probably going to get tortured/die anyways. It really couldn't get any worse than that.

Bill's mom blatantly threw her arms at me trying to make a point. “Thank you. At least someone here appreciates my work.”

“Mom,” Bill was practically whining now. “That’s our enemy.”

“I know. But at least she is certainly more respectful than all of you bozos combined.”

"Mom, we're trying to make a statement for an entire species! Footage of our mothers yelling from upstairs won't help our voice to the people!" If there is a real life Eric Cartman in this world, he would take the cake.

Forget actors, these guys were a bunch of losers.

"Okay then, son. Be more respectful next time."

"You're letting him go, just like that!?!?" Ladies and gentlemen, the world's worst mother award goes to....

Too late. Bill's mother abandoned the basement so that her insane loser son could torture an innocent being. I had my share of LOLs for the moment, but now the fun was over. I kind of wish that I was killed by a bunch of badasses rather than these idiots. Instead, my death would be so dull and stupid. Beggars can't be choosers. If this is how I meet my maker, so be it.

"Now, if there aren't any further interruptions, we'll just cut that last part out. Terry, from where we left off."

"Right." Terry put his mask back on while mumbling about its uncomfortableness. "*ahem*. Now, we teach them all a lesson. We aren't full of jokers. PAPA means serious business. Greg..." Greg? The silent masked man in the back corner of the room stood up. Oh boy, another Greg. He was the guy with the weird hair. What a small world. "...the crowbar."

Greg walked up to Terry, crowbar in hand. How could he see? His hair had to practically be over the mask's eye holes. Now, I prepared for the inevitable death. In the face of death, only one thing was on my mind: None of this would have happened if my brother got me different flavored Poptarts.

*THWACK*

I could not feel the pain. It might have been because the swing wasn't aimed at me. Greg had an interesting way of handing a crowbar, flinging the thing into Terry's ribs. That easily made Terry collapse on the floor.

"Greg," Bill's jaw dropped. "What...the...hell. What the hell are you doing!?"

Greg turned and pointed his crowbar at the fellow PAPA member. "What I should have done a long time ago." With a slug of the crowbar to the stomach, Bill got knocked out.

Now, regardless that this is the real world and you often don't stand a chance against an unexpected crowbar smack to any part of the body, I still saw this as a action filled moment. Really, it was just a double-crosser with a weapon and a jump on two unarmed people.

I remained tied to my chair with a confused expression on my face. I asked as calmly as I could what had just happened.

"Who the-? What the-? How the-?"

Okay, maybe it didn't form so well when it escaped my tongue. Still, Greg got the memo.

"I'll explain it all later." He took off his ski mask (How does that hair remain perfectly fine?) and untied my hooves from the back of the chair. "First, we need to get a car."

I turned around at the set behind me. Bill sure had a taste of improv. It looked all realistic cave-looking screen, and Terry's act really bought me until his whining revealed their true selves.

"You coming or not?"

Greg was waiting at the door. I followed him out of Bill's basement and to the front yard. It was surprising to me that there was nothing unordinary about the house. I thought housing psychos would ruin the place a little bit. But no, it looked like any other house at the block. With the sun directly over my head, it was safe to assume it was around noon.

Greg unlocked a car parked at in the driveway. "Get in."

I don't know what part of my mind made me think I should go in the stranger's car in the first place, but I stepped back after second thoughts. My luck didn't fare so well today, anyways.

"Why should I trust you?"

"One," Greg used his fingers to count. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so already. And two, your stuff is in the backseat. I'm leaving with it no matter what you do."

Those seemed to be good enough reasons for me. This Greg did just save my life back there. I didn't know how to make heads or tails of this guy. Hair straight out of a Final Fantasy game. Check. Mysteriously hanging out with bad guys before turning against them. Check. Overused cliche catch phrase before kicking people's asses in one hit. Check. OH GOD, I'VE BEEN PLACED IN A B-RATED ACTION MOVIE!