I wrote this drunk after being awake for two days.

~ Epriourths ~

“Don’t ever let anyone treat you anything less than a sentient being,” Fourths said as she tried to stroke the robotic filly’s mane – impossible due to it literally being made of metal. Still, she tried to pet the white fur only to feel metal instead. “In this day and age, it’s normal for ponies to have...triggers.”

The bot’s eyes glowed in a green light. “TRIGGERED.”

“Exactly.” Fourths finally let her feet fall to the carpeted floor next to the bed which the two had been sleeping upon. “But the good thing about you is that there’s a trigger cooldown, meaning that ponies can say triggering things without you getting triggered – and that makes you better than ninety-percent of the ponies I know.”

Epcot turned her head to the literal number four, her exhaust pipe shooting out smoke like how skirts peees out literal dr. pepper. “But I am but a bot. All that I say or do is written and programmed by someone else – even this line of dialogue is not of my own violation.”

The number four only brought its tip to the younger unicorn’s head, nuzzling in some way or fashion. “Leave sweating the small, existential crisis stuff to skirts. You have a huge impact in our world and our lives – you’re like one of us.”

“My appearances are sporadic and programmed.” Epcot chugged her head away, staring out through her window at the dying sun. Celestia would be getting fired big time for that. “Even if you were to count me as among your own, I am but a mere acquaintance.”

The number four somehow blushed in the nothing of its space. “...I kinda see you as something more…”

“Huh?” Epcot didn’t know how, but somehow, from the blackness of the number four sprouted a pair of lips – lips pressing against her own in a desperate act of sexual child abuse. But it was okay because Sweetie was actually 18 and a robot, so age doesn’t really apply to them

When they parted, Fourths looked into Sweetie with her nonexistent eyes. “Even if everything you do is programmed, even if all your words are written by someone else – I still love you for who you are. You make our world better by your sudden appearance, and as long as we pretend that you’re real, then you will always have a who in you.”

Sweetie threw herself into the hole in the number 4 in a hug. “Do you really mean what you say?”

Fourths only smiled with her non-existent lips. “Of course I do. Our life wouldn’t be the same without you – we wouldn’t be able to use triggers to get you to say stuff that we find funny. You are real, Epcot, and you’re way better than that sweetie bot.”

Epcot only smiled. “And you’re way better than the number five.”

Shortly after that, the two broke apart and looked into the rising sun. They didn’t say much or do much after that, merely basking in one another’s company. There were still words to be said, things to be done, for this project did not yet have a thousand words.

So the two went around town setting sheeps on fire and yelling beep-beeps. They then tore down the library for fun, defeated the Princesses with their butts, and blew up the royal castle for fun.

They then scaled the highest mountain just so they could. They then flew east to the dark side of the world, only to turn back upon it being too dark. At one point, 4 forget about Epcot during some kind of curse, but ate a snickers and quickly ran to the bathroom.

There, they kissed once again. Robot and number in harmony.

Afterward, they met a pony who was a master of props, kicking him in the nuts and taking all his props. All was well till they spotted a wandering Yoshi, but they bro-fisted, and everything turned out alright.

On their journey to the north, the number and bot ran into a professor, though he was drunk and trying to con the world into believing that 2++=5. They quickly crucified him and carried on their way.

They reached the crystal empire and salted to some army guy. They thought his name was Jake but did not care enough. Either way, he seemed like a cool guy, even though he who overthrew the crystal empire.

After ascending the peak mountains, they gave a grown up Spike a high-five, before sledding downward on the snow and into the ocean. 4 and bot were saved by some guy named Henry on a boat, who gave them copies of very long books and shot them out of a cannon and into the sun.

Upon landing on the sun, they met this very nice penguin. He was positive despite living on a burning surface and told them how to reach the end of the universe. The chapped fellow then blew up the sun and ending all life on the planet just to sling-shot the two through the stars – talk about narcissists.

Space was cold. Oh so very cold. They carried forward to declare their love to the highest being. There was some double trouble in reaching there, but they knew that if they kept positive, that the nothingness of space and death could stop them.

They also gave a thumbs up to the big J on the way there.

Anywho, they had a feint of ignorance on what lay beyond the edge of the universe, but knew that if they both threw their non-existent fist into it, that life would begin anew. The power of their love transcended all – even being itself. In their journey of self-discovery, the number and the bot lost their forms, and became the embodiment of love itself.

Suck it dead Cadence.

Then there was this guy named Floyd who’s first name doesn’t begin with pink, so not too many stars paid him a glance. But the ones who did loved the sight of him, though they’d love him more if he were slightly pink.

Finally, the heroes of love reached the edge of the universe.

“I love you!” they both said.

And in crossing the edge of the universe…

All they saw was nothingness – not even themselves.

559 views