Welcome to Pony Vale

by SuperCyclone

11A - Winter Wrap Up

Life is like a box of chocolates; Unopened. Dusty. And beginning to attract a lot of insects.

Welcome to Pony Vale

Attention dear listeners, I was told by the City Council that there is an upcoming snowstorm about to hit Pony Vale in a matter of minutes. The Cloudsdale Weather Corporation issued a letter stating that this was caused by a technical issue with their equipment. A spokesmare from the factory said they are sorry for such inconvenience.

When asked on how the machine had malfunctioned, they simply shrugged stating, “Oh it was one of the workers there, they “accidentally” fell in the machine which caused it to produce large amounts of snow. What an asshole. That Cloud Walker was always taking everypony’s sandwiches during breaks, clocking out too early, and trying to summon wendigos while working the front desk! How rude right? He would do anything to get out of work. Anyways, we’re sorry but winter isn’t going anywhere for a while.”

So citizens of Pony Vale, stay indoors and warm as this treacherous snowstorm comes our way. I guess winter wrap up will have to wait for a couple of days. Such a shame. I’ve actually never been part of a “wrap up” before. My mother was very protective of me as a pup. Whenever I wanted to help the other ponies clean up for winter, my mother would quickly grab me, take me inside, and lock the doors and windows. Then she would say that this harsh frozen world is nothing compared to what I will see in the future. Ahh memories. I miss her dearly. Maybe in a couple days I will finally be able to participate! Twilight Sparkle, lovely Twilight. When I told her about never even seeing winter wrapped up, she was quite aghast. She told me that it’s quite an event here in Pony Vale, and that she would gladly show me how it works!

On a related note, I was just handed some further news about the snowstorm. Zecora came out in public saying that this snowstorm is a warning to all of us. The zebra went on to say that this was the coming apocalypse she was warning the town about.

“The snowstorm is not ordinary, this town will no longer be merry!” She rhymed as news reporters wrote down on their notebooks, secretly doing a connect the dots game.

“I warn all of you, for if you see your double, there will be nothing but trouble!”

Of course the news reporters and ponies left because Zecora is a jerk and liar and no pony wants to be seen with her. However, soon after this announcement, Pinkie Pie went around the town telling people that she had found her long lost twin sister. She described the pony as having her exact features, down to her bubbly cotton candy mane. She told ponies that they were making snow angels, who aren’t real, and were making delicious treats for everypony as this snowstorm passes over us.

Now I’m not sure what to make of this, but it seems that if Zecora was right about there being doubles of ourselves, she was wrong about the impending doom that would approach our lovely town. Hmm, I wonder if Twilight will come up with something. Perhaps she can give an explanation as to why there are doubles of ourselves appearing.

Listeners, thank you for your letters of concern. I am being told that the snowstorm has already hit our lovely town. Big Mac out on the edge of town. Sent a letter a moment ago to report that the snow was thick, and moving incredibly fast. But when he put his hoof to it, it was as if there was nothing there. That our past is fiction, and that our consequences were our choice. He said he couldn’t see the familiar things such as the many trees of the Apple Orchard, or the supposed angels of Granny Smith. He did however see many shapes and colors heading in all directions. Then he wrote desperately in this sheet of paper that I have that says “No! Not you! Not you!” And it ends there. Thank you, Big Mac for that informative report.

As this news develops, let’s have a look at the Community Calendar. Thunderlane, owner of Thunderlane’s Bowling Alley & Arcade Fun Complex, wanted to let everypony know that this upcoming Saturday is 25% off for pizza and drinks when you bring a tourniquet with you. There will also be special games and a tournament in the arcade!

This Sunday will be the start of Poetry Week dear listeners, so get your quills, ink, and papers ready to see who can write the best poem!

Monday will consist of eagles as they try to peck the eyes of those who happen to be outside. They will trap onto you, looking straight into your irises, and will use their sharp beaks to swallow your vision...Sounds like a great day to go out for a walk!

Tuesday will be free cupcake day at Sugarcube Corner! So make sure you bring diagram with how healthy your body is so that Miss Pinkamena will know exactly what to do with you. In which I mean what cupcake fits you best.

Wednesday is back mares and gentlecolts, we did it!

Thursday has unfortunately gone missing however. No pony can seem to find it. They’ve looked everywhere for it and it’s starting to become problematic. Thursday’s Mother is worried sick about where their Thursday is. They believe that Friday has something to do with it. “They’re always jealous about being the best.” The Mother said.

Friday: “We didn’t do anything to your Thursday, Miss! So please stop calling!

This has been the Community Calendar.

An now, Traffic.

In the cold desert sand dunes, there is a stallion waiting.
His eyes are empty.
They are empty of sadness.
He has seen death. He has known death.
It is too much to take in.
The stallion walks to the door, his hooves are steady as he takes the last step.
He looks up as he takes the last step into the cold desert sands.
The world he saw before, is gone. It's not a dream anymore. It's here, as though it were yesterday.
The stallion looks into the mirror, and looks at his face.
He looks at his mane and his fur and his eyes. His fur is pale and wrinkled.
He turns back into his chair and looks around his house.
He has no home.
He has no friends.
He has no possessions.
He has no job.
He lives with no money.
He spends every waking moment thinking about his future.
His mother and father are still at work, and he is alone. What does he have to look forward to?
I'm a dog of few words. But this is a case that is so clear that words are all that remain. There is only one word that sums up the situation for this stallion, and that word is Despair.
You've read this book. You understand. This has been Traffic.

(Paper wrinkled)

Oh! Dear listeners, I was just given a note by Soft Spot from the City Council themselves. The note says that they want to tell all of Pony Vale that they will be taking a short vacation as this snowstorm unravels.

“We just want to get out more, you know,” they said nervously. “It’s totally not because we forgot to announce this snowstorm ahead of time or something like that. It’s not like we knew a week in advanced or anything.”

They then chuckled hysterically as they bolted out of the door, using their mystical powers to vanish in thin air.

Oh!!! They also tagged this cute picture of a cat trying to fit inside a box! It’s so adorable! Look at it trying to fit it’s chubby little face! Soft Spot! You have to hang this on the wall! It’s to cute to pass!

This just in listeners, Mayor Mare has a declared a state of emergency! She says that if any pony is still outside that you return home immediately! The doubles from the snowstorm are attacking the citizens, and trying to kill them! And if you do see your double, that you kill them!

After this another emergency press conference was made as Mayor Mare spoke calmly, “You know what, forget what I said about the snowstorm and the doubles. There is nothing to be afraid of. Just go outside and have fun.”

Once again another emergency press conference was made by Mayor Mare, now frantic as she was before. “Don’t believe the second me! I didn’t make that announcement. Stay inside!”

Then, to the news reporters’ surprise, two Mayor Mares fought with each other for the mic as one of the exclaimed, “Give me back my mic you parallel demon from frozen hell!”

As the fight broke out, the conference had doubled in ponies, and they soon all began to lash out at each other.

Now, Pony Vale, I do not condone killing or violence of any kind...but I recommend that you try to compromise with your double. Try to come to an understanding, please! I-

(Sound of glass breaking)

Soft Spot? Is everything okay in there? Oh my! Listeners, Soft Spot is fighting with a pony who looks exactly like her. They are throwing paper weights, staplers, and files at each other. I need to help her! Soft Spot, I’m coming in! As I go listeners, please listen to these words from our sponso-Soft Spot! No! Put down that letter opener! Soft Spo-

Hello, listeners? During the sponsorship message, Soft Spot had used a letter opener...to kill her other self. However, I do not know which one was killed. The Soft Spot who is still alive is standing over her double’s dead corpse, bleeding onto the scattered papers around the floor. The Soft Spot who remains seems to be grinning, or grimacing, I can’t tell. I do have this piece of paper that one of the Soft Spot’s had in their hoof before the battle. And the letter seems to be...

...oh no!

Trixie Lulamoon!?

Ugh! What does that jerk want? I can’t even handle holding this paper in my very paws, but, if this was the last thing that Soft Spot printed, then I must respect her final wish. Here we go...Trixie writes, oh Celestia! Trixie writes:

‘Cecil, this letter is from The Great and Powerful Trixie! I have some urgent news about the snowstorm! I have a strong feeling that there is a secret yet menacing government agency causing this snowstorm! The secret yet menacing government agency must have used this snowstorm to benefit Cloudsdale’s Weather Factory, or also know as the Rainbow Factory. Remember long ago when I told you the story of the factory? How they secretly take foals who fail their flying test and turn them into rainbows? Well, I have reason to believe that this snowstorm is allowing the government to take foals while we are blinded from the snow. They are...

...Now you listen here, Trixie Lulamoon!

You’re not saying anything new! Of course the secret yet menacing government agency created the snowstorm, the City Council announced that this morning! And of course they’re taking foals to the Rainbow Factory! However, the foals who fail their flying test aren’t turned into rainbows! They are just there to help make the rainbows as a punishment for not trying hard enough on their test! You’ve clearly never read Equestria’s constitution! Okay, sometimes government can be very corrupt, and bloated, but one rule that we have is to never complain for everything. Without government we wouldn’t have schools, or roads, or municipal utilities, or helpful pandemics, or black carriages that roam our neighborhood at night keeping us safe! So please, Trixie Lulamoon, I’ve had enough of your government bashing!

And with that dear listeners, I take you to the-

(Humming sound)

Oh, will you look at that. Listeners, there is a black, almost indigo vortex or portal of sorts. And it has formed along my studio wall. Listeners, words fail me, this vortex is...so beautiful. But, I can’t leave you as our show hasn’t ended yet. But, I must see beyond this something, Pony Vale. I must see what this is! I must go, I will try not to be long, listeners. I will try not to be looong...
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(Hoof steps)
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Hello? Hello, Desert Bucks? What is this studio? Desert Bucks? I don’t know if you can hear my voice, Jim here. I have no clue where I am. It appears to be a radio studio, but the walls are a lot darker, the equipment looks a lot..older...and dryer than it’s supposed to be. The microphone was made...when? Have...have I gone back in time? Meghan? Meghan are you in the booth? I don’t know if anyone can hear me, the snowstorm still rages outside, and the vortex is here, still humming. Only it’s black, almost a deep blue. I do not know if this is the storm, or the portal, or my own body causing this. There is a picture of someone here. It is a dog, not short or tall, not skinny or fat, and has eyes like mine, and a posture like mine, and his overall presence feels like mine. But I do not believe he is me. Maybe it’s his smile. Is that a smile? I can’t say. I do hope this gentledog is safe, whoever he is. I hope I’m safe, wherever I am. It is night, I believe it is. You may not know who I am, nor do I know you. But we do have something: this mic. And this voice. And your fluffy warm ears ready to hear a blossoming tone that will soothe your insides. And we have this sitting on this odd and bloodless desk. So now, dear listeners, whoever you are, I give you, the weather.

Hello...Pony Vale? I told you I would return. I have returned. I am back from whatever horrible place I had gone too. Along the way, I found a grotesque pony. A foul devil of a pony. He attacked me. I tried to choke him to death, but then I remembered what I had told you, sweet listeners. And I let him live. I let that ghastly beast live. However, he does have his wounds, scars, and my pity as he returns to that awful place of nightmares. But somehow, I am happy that he is alive, that I am alive, and that you are alive. That we are alive. Outside, the winds have subside, and the sun is now washing away our pain. I am sure there is blood staining the streets, and an immoral and unnecessary battle has begun. Many were replaced by those who came here for evil, but we will never know for certain. Those of you who have survived, who are still the same, who have conquered this hellish night, whoever you are, you are home. Home. Pony Vale! You and I are together again, my voice, your ears, we are together again! And as always, and forever, Goodnight, Pony Vale. Goodnight.

Author's Note:

Hello everyone, thank you once again for continuing to read this story even with it’s terrible schedule. I am glad that many of you are enjoying it, and I would absolutely love to hear what you think. And if you are still wanting to be an intern here, than you are more than glad to apply. Just send a message through black ravens and I will get a hold of you. Now for today’s proverb:

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never quite describe the pain." -Twicane