The Courier's Journal

by RF and AG

Journal 16

This is not Canada

Right, this entry is going to sound like complete nonsense. So I would like to clarify some things before I explain this situation I have found myself in.

First off, I don’t take drugs. The most I utilize is minor Med-X doses that could barely qualify as painkillers, and Stimpaks to help the healing process. Never in my life have I ever taken Psycho, Jet, or anything like that. I swear upon my old grave.

Secondly, I am currently writing this in a grass field where I can literally see everything moving around me, so I am not hallucinating. Also I can’t be asleep because I can feel pain. I’m told that is one deciding factor.

Lastly, never, and I mean never, trust old or mysterious technology that had a bullet point list of how to operate. That was probably my biggest folly in my entire life. It happened with the Sierra Madre … happened in the Lonesome Road … why didn’t I learn?

Anyway, with that clarified, I give anyone reading this the ramblings of a completely sane man who is currently witnessing something not sane at all.

It started when a few days before landfall (yes I am calling it that for reasons) when I got another mysterious broadcast that was coming from the Nipton area. At first, it seemed like nothing more than a set of random flickering sounds. Though thankfully Veronica was able to tell it was actually something called Morse Code. Yeah, the message actually had a meaning. I actually left before she decoded it, or at least I think she might have. Like I said, I left before she was able to tell me whether or not she had.

The trip was boring and I made sure to stop in Novac for a little more ammo, not to mention water and whiskey. Yes, my pack always contains whiskey. No it is not currently affecting me. Yes I have finished the bottle by now, though.

Either way, when I finally got to Nipton, I found what could only be described as a satellite. Yeah, a satellite, as in the ones that the people of the Old World used to send up into orbit around earth. Thank god I found that encyclopedia set, am I right? Getting back on track, I was a little hesitant to touch it, seeing as it looked like it fell from the sky.

I knocked it a few times with my rifle butt before figuring that whatever it was, it was a piece of junk. That was until I kicked it, which apparently was the only way to spring open a little compartment. Said compartment frightened the fuck out of me for but a second before I decided to actually look inside.

I found a note and a detonator … yeah, I was stunned to say the least.

On the note was a three point bulletin list.

• Don’t be alarmed!

• Think of the place you want to go to the most!

• Press the button!

Somedays I really wonder if there is a completely retarded side of me that fails to contemplate my actions. The parts that wonders such things were not active when I decided to press that button.

The part that was active was my stomach. In fact, the moment my body stopped feeling like it was being stretched like a rubber band, I upchucked pretty hard. Only once though, since I had a light breakfast which was now staring back at me from the polished marble surface beneath me.

This is where it started to take a complete left turn. I only needed to look up to confirm my theory that I was no longer in the Mojave. When I looked up I saw eight? Yeah I’m pretty sure it was eight at the time. I saw eight extremely brightly coloured miniature horses. Such an animal was extinct but like I said before, encyclopedias.

Even in ten years I will still argue that my reaction was completely justified. I simply backed away, holding up my middle fingers while telling the world I was not going to deal with this shit today.

Unfortunately, the massive group, of what I assumed was ponies, that tackled me from behind told me that I was indeed going to deal with this shit.

Long story short for the rest of that day, I spent the rest of the day being dragged down to an isolated room that only had a window and a small bed, stripped of all but my clothes, and getting a shitty meal that included some grain that I knew I couldn’t eat. Damn, horses. At least there was bread and water.

What a great way to spend my first few hours in a world filled with extremely colourful ponies. It was incredibly laughable, and if I didn’t know I was sober, I would have thought I was hallucinating the entire thing.

At the time, a stray thought crept into my mind. one that involved how New Vegas would run without me. Then I realised that Yes Man and I had spent multiple nights coming up with plans for such things happening. I wasn’t indestructible after all; just skilled and lucky. In the end, I figured that Yes Man would be able to hold down the fort since he’s not prone to stupidity like I was.

So I sat and sat, alone in the surprisingly well lit room for what seemed like hours, and most likely was since the lack of sunlight was becoming obvious. Eventually, daylight gave way to night and I was surprised by the sound of the door being unlocked.

Now it was here that i was stuck at a moral quandary. To kill whatever came through that door and escape, or let them live and negotiate my way out? Honestly I was tempted to go with kill, but I was surprised to find that the pony to enter was more than prepared for such a thing. It was actually one of the first ponies I saw, the dark blue one (yes, I’ll add the name later), and she was wearing a full suit of plate armor or something like that. Not to mention she had a sword with her.

First words out of her mouth, and I shit you not, “What did you mean by ‘Fuck you world, I’m going home’?”

I snickered a little at that … okay I laughed a lot before finally telling her. Honestly, despite the armor and sword, she was rather nice. Though my definition of nice tends to be someone who hasn’t shot at me, threatened me, or actually tried to kill me. Still, nice is a good term.

We talked for a bit, her asking questions about me and how I got here, to which I couldn’t answer without sounding crazy. Of course, since I am currently in a world populated by crazy coloured ponies … I think the word crazy has been stretched.

After many … many words, more than the amount I usually speak in a week, she let me go. Seriously, that’s how I’m writing this. She was even nice enough to give me a room to stay in while they “analyzed how you got here.” Good luck with that.

So that was day one, and I am writing this on day four, I think. What did I do for the other two days? It can be easily summed up as three things. I ate, I slept, and when those weren’t happening I was being questioned about everything I knew. Honestly, that purple one is annoying beyond any reasonable doubt. She just keeps on talking and talking. Hell, she’s probably talking still … yeah I kind of slipped out of one of her lectures to get a break. I’m feeling cooped up enough as it is, without Sparklebutt talking to me.

Yeah, I nicknamed her that since one of the first conversations was these ‘cutie marks.’ From there it only spiral out of control for that day. Mainly name calling that gathered a surprising audience. No foals luckily enough, so my entire arsenal of names could be unleashed.

You wouldn’t believe how much stress you can release by calling someone a “pink narcissistic chicken with a forehead boner.”

Either way, that was my first little bit in Canterlot, aka the capital of ‘Equestria’ … honestly I think the puns will get to me first.

Death by puns would probably be likely in this weird ass world.

Author's Note:

This chapter is a lie ... I live in Canada and I can tell you, this is exactly what it's like.

Also that line is part of my extensive headcanon.

Comments

[Dustchu]

Death by puns... sweet lord XD
hahahaha

Nice!