Guess who's baaaack?
Hey. Hey Buttery Smooth. Guess what?
"Ack," Butter Knife spat, "I'm in another story again, aren't I?"
DING DING DING! CORRECT!
The ultrafine, maximum-edge shankmuffin of an alicorn facehoofed in response.
"So, what sorta torture are you gonna run me through this time? I don't see any of the... acquaintences that you forced me to be with from last time, but I just know that you've got something up your sleeve."
Yes, in fact. Got your nose!
"Hey!"
Fine. Here's your nose back. Anyway, let's see here... how will this thing begin... ah, I know!
"Please don't tell me you're gonna--"
Let's wrap you up in masking tape, dunk you into a spacious FedEx-branded flatrate box, wrap that up with some duct tape, toss in a few heads of lettuce, a couple Molotov cocktails, put it all into a giant replica of a VHS tape, put that inside a big ol' bucket of slime, and send you hurtling down into a post-apocalyptic Equestria!
"What."
Toodles!
"WAITYOUDIDN'TEVENTELLMEWHATYOUHADUPYOURSLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE!"
Oh, that? It's a table leg, your new weapon of choice!
"Why?"
"Because I'm the author, and you, as my character, must do as I narrate!"
A giant bucket of slime containing many nested layers of other things (and a very pissed-off alicorn) landed in the middle of nowhere. From within, a muffled scream of frustration.
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All of my yes
9711904
I second that.
What if Pinkie made just the right amount of clones and stopped them from making more