Narcissism Makes Great Comedy

by Hot Blooded Hero

Act 1: A Prologue of Biographical Intentions (REDONE)

A Prologue of Biographical Intentions

A/N: I chose to redo this chapter and the next because I knew they were mediocre since I rushed them. I didn't even give myself enough sufficient time to come up with a legit plot. Well, now I have one. So enjoy the early re-write.

Who would’ve thought that something like this could happen to someone as least deserving as me? I would’ve been the last person to suspect this to happen to. I mean, sure I meant well, but didn’t do horse-apples to gain such a privilege like this. I was lazy, a slob, and sometimes, unknowingly self-centered. I could’ve done more with my life before this happened.

Maybe I’m over thinking this. I should be grateful for being one out of billions, no trillions, no endless vast seas of individuals from throughout the multi-verse to have this happen to. As a younger child I used to think that my life would have some sort of meaning to it. It sort of amazed people at how philosophical I was at my age. I always asked those big questions: Why is the first person camera from my point of view? Am I the main character? Do I serve some sort of bigger purpose than this mundane life I have? Those kinds of questions.

Over the years however, those questions dissipated along with all traces of innocence with a help of a few friends, daily news, and the internet. Funny thing, the Internet. “The best source of information accessible to mankind is also the worst,” my Honors English teacher always used to say. Wikipedia and Youtube, countered by websites such as 4chan and Youtube (and I did mean to put that in twice).

The internet is also credited to how I got here. Well, sure it was my knowledge, but it was knowledge I‘ve gained from spending countless hours ‘wasting my life.’ In fact, if I didn’t spend so much time doing what I did, I’d probably end up dead several times over in more ways than one in many lands that I would’ve had no knowledge about. Thank …God? Celestia? The Astral Entities? Bah! I’m not even sure what to believe in after all of the crap I’ve seen.

Wait, what was I talking about again? You know what? Buck it. Let’s just start with me when I was fifteen. As I said, I was a fat, lazy slob who was a bit narcissistic, but it was only coupled with humor to counter-act my friends’ constant ripping and trolling as well as hide a bit of my pessimistic, and even more philosophical attitude towards the way humanity acts, which I used to see examples of on a daily basis.

I lived in a joint-town of Independence and Monmouth, or as I’ve heard several people joke, IndeMouth. Even though this was a joint-town with a semi-major college, it was still notably smaller than any surrounding cities located in Oregon. They also took pride in their impressive high school, generically named Central. I went there for my freshman year just before the incident.

Heh, funny fact: I played trumpet for their Concert band, and had just passed the auditions for Symphonic and Jazz. I was excited to be able to play much more challenging songs at more respectable venues. But I remembered the quote that I chose earlier that year from the classic Romeo and Juliet:

“O, I am Fortune’s fool!”

It was June. 2012 to be exact.

School was finally done for the year.

Woot for me. I was struggling in schoolwork for the last few weeks, but I was able to catch up before any due dates. Then I was home free.

The bus had dropped me off on the side of the country dirt road, next to my street, and drove off leaving a large cloud of dust lingering in the air. I coughed through the offending particles and started my walk home up the hill that my road went up.

The shining imitation of Celestia’s work was beating down hard on Oregon’s fertile land, providing the necessary nutrients for the nearby farms’ crops and the local lawn gardens to grow. Flowers often bloomed on the side of my road, giving off beautiful colors and sweet smells that I very much savored on this walk home. I didn’t even regret bringing my mp3, because the sound of the birds chirping and the slight breeze rustling the tree branches above.

Then I realized something: Why haven’t I noticed this beauty before? This nature was here yesterday, yet I had never acknowledged just how stunning it was before today. Maybe the stress at school clouded my mind, and the relief of summer had cleared it.

I was deep into this thought when I realized that I had almost passed my house. I backtracked a few steps and got the mail. That’s when the coming home ritual would start. Check on the animals’ food, unlock the door to the empty house, make sure the house is empty, then log on.

As much as I’d like to stay out here and enjoy this day, the sun’s a bit too hot for my preference. Plus, Ponies.

If you’ve just figured out by now that I’m a brony, then you win nothing. I mean, hey, you read the description. Also, look at your address bar.

The house should always be empty at this time because everyone else had stuff to do. It’s not like I didn’t have friends or anything, it was just that my friends had other stuff to do that involved either family or things I had no ability to do.

My brothers, however always had something with friends at this time, but it was usually something stupid like “exercise” or “physical activity” or some other nonsense of the sort.

My mom always went out to do an errand, like searching through estate sales for something for the garden or the house, and wouldn’t be back ‘til at least 5.

My dad was always in Alaska for half the year, working hard to keep us at a steady income with his self-employed business. He wasn’t usually gone for very long though and was coming back sometime that month.

As I walked to my bedroom to put my backpack away, I looked at my appearance in the mirror on the hallway-splitting door.

I was 5’4”, which I knew was a bit short for my age compared everyone else I knew. My eyes and skin depicted my Asian/Pacific-Islander heritage that is Filipino. I had long, messy, slightly greasy, very close to black, brown hair that almost completely covered my dark brown eyes. My face showed signs of facial hair already with a small, thin mustache, some slightly distinguishable sideburns, and a premature beard starting to grow. I was a bit overweight, and my clothes did nothing to cover it up. I usually wore a zip-up, black, semi-formal jacket with the sleeves rolled up, a dark red Nike t-shirt underneath, and dark blue Air-Nike shorts.

I sighed at the image. With that sigh, I could tell anyone that I disapproved of my look. Sure, I looked decent, but I’m pretty sure that could’ve looked better without the excess fat. I just never found motivation to try and lose it though.

I unceremoniously dropped the backpack in my room and headed for the media room to connect online.

I became a brony very early that year, while we were at a casino resort at Grand Ronde during New Year‘s. I was using the hotel’s complimentary wi-fi when I had come across a few pony related videos. I remembered that two of my friends were bronies themselves, so I figured that something with a large following on the internet had to be good, right? So I watched a few episodes and was addicted. The rest of that trip was spent in that room, downloading as many episodes I could get off of Youtube.

I could only get six episodes downloaded before we left for home, and at the time, I still had dial-up. My friend however agreed to download and get me episodes using a flash drive. He also got me into fan fiction with a copy of My Little Dashie, and into brony music with a few tracks by Alex S. and The Living Tombstone.

Most bronies I had met said that I wasn’t a true brony until I had a decided on my favorite pony. Just to shut them up, I said that my favorite was Rainbow Dash (yes, I know, cliché), but the truth is that I’m tied between her and Twilight. I think they both represent the two sides of my mind: a thrill-seeking boaster, and a knowledgeable perfectionist.

It was nothing but blissful piece as I watched, read, and listened to nothing but Pony content for the next 5 hours. It was then that I realized that I watched, read, and listened to nothing but Pony content for 5 hours without anything stopping me. I looked to the taskbar’s clock and it read 9:06 PM. Were they late or something? Maybe Mom just had to stay in Salem a little longer and they should be home soon.

Just then, a dim light shone into the dark media room from the window.

Oh, they were just late.

I clicked out of whatever I was in and looked out the window. I saw the light, but it was distant and I couldn’t see exactly what it was coming from. Soon, the light seemed to be getting brighter and an odd whirring noise was slowly fading in.

I squinted as both the light and the noise were getting brighter and louder. It wasn’t until it was too late that I realized that the light and noise weren’t getting bigger.

They were getting closer.

They were getting closer fast.

Is that a... blue box?!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

*CRASH*

Comments

[fluttershywriter]

Great set-up! Can't wait to see more.