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How do you do, sir or madam? I am the great winged one who rules the night, and I once saved the land where ponies are the predominant species.

What is that puzzled look on your face for? Ah, I have just remembered that you do not see much of our humble universe save for what we have transmitted through your television. But I shall hold to the fact that I saved the land of the ponies from certain doom.

Now look here, I understand your objections. Yes, I realize you have not seen me since Season Two, Episode Eight. Yes, I realize I do not appear to actually do much besides make that baby dragon look bad, which I really do not intend to do. Yes, I know you have literally no conception of what I do in my spare time, which is limited itself. However, I can assure you that all I speak is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing save the truth.

Wait a moment, we are not in court, and that joke was in poor sport (Ha-ha, a rhyme—I give myself a thousand points). Besides, you must be getting fairly tired of my ramblings, so we must begin the tale.

It all began about three weeks after I first met the magical purple unicorn and her assistant. I was on my nightly rounds, looking for field mice to dance with. Excellent dancers, the field mice are. They dance better than any creature this side of the multiple-acre forest, save the ponies themselves. Could one consider them a creature though? I know not myself. Of course, the ponies dance solely for pleasure, and many other creatures do not think of pleasure; they simply think of how they are to survive in such a world as we have.

Survival—why is that a concern in such a world as ours? What I mean is, I do believe we all are immortals. At least, I believe myself to be, as well as the ponies you see through your television, because if one of us were to die, they would most likely take your viewing experience away. So therefore, I believe it is undeniably safe to assume that we are quite invincible. As for the field mice and their traits, I know very little, but I would assume that they need to protect themselves from death, since they dance so often.

Dancing is so much fun, by the way. Have you ever tried to dance? Oh, if you have not had the pleasure of doing so, you have missed possibly the most enjoyable pastime of all. Dancing invigorates both soul and flesh, bringing about a most positive attitude in oneself.

Say, that reminds me of the time that I saved the land of the ponies with the aid of the art of dancing. Would you care to hear about it? Well, bravo! We shall begin the account then.

One night I was out and about dancing quite merrily with the lowly field mice, which I often did since they were such excellent dancers. After a fairly enthusiastic dance with a slightly crazy mouse, I wandered to the edge of the forest to regain my composure. I looked into the night sky, which was illuminated with the soft glow of the moon. Ah yes, I have always favored the alicorn of the night over the alicorn of the day. Nothing can compare to the friendly gaze of the moon, the sparkling beauty of the stars, and the brilliant flash of lightning that erupts from the ground.

It was at that point I realized that the night typically does not have flashes of lightning that erupt from the ground. I then realized that since this did not occur at regular intervals, then it must be something out of the ordinary—something unusual. Ha-ha, that is a fun word to say. Unusual. UnUSual. UnusuAL. Ha-ha.

Being the curious and inquisitive being that I am, I set out to investigate. No evidence of an explosion was visible; however, there was still something unusual farther down the border of the forest. It was a strange creature standing upon its hind legs, looking around as if frightened. Within a few moments, its looks of horror gave way to looks of joy. It started to sing and skip along as if something grand had just occurred. Then it hit me. Yes, a large piece of cheese smacked the side of my head. It had come from the dancing field mice, who had all joined in a massive fight over who was better at long-distance scampering. It was then I realized that the strange creature was no strange creature at all.

“My alicorn of the day, it’s a…wait for it…HUMAN!” I whispered in fear. Humans—the worst possible creatures known to exist. They are aliens that occasionally find themselves in our midst, by one means or another. Many of them have seemed to come with a force, such as a lightning strike or an explosion. Sometimes they just show up. It really does not matter how they arrive here; they are quite a public nuisance, save the rare ones that actually do well with the creatures here. Unfortunately, many are also quite destructive, doing nothing but ruining our fine universe.

This one unquestionably looked like one of those high-spirited hoodlums who acted as if he owned the place. Having possessed instinct on identifying human traits for many years, I decided that the wisest course of action would be to fly back to the magical purple unicorn’s home and report the inherent danger.

I flew straight into the unicorn’s room, flapping my wings loudly and proclaiming, “Wake up, magical unicorn! There is inherent danger about us!”

I will admit that I made a dreadful mistake in doing that, for the night had grown quite late and the unicorn had been in a deep sleep. My ill-timed shouting caused her to sail high into the air in pure fright.

“Owlowiscious,” she snapped once she had recovered, “What in Equestria is the matter with you? This had better be important.”

Owlowiscious? Equestria? What are these terms she speaks of? I have heard her and the other ponies use them frequently, but they are all foreign to me. If they would only take the time to teach me….

“Quickly, Twilight, we must hurry!” I exclaimed. “A terrible human has crossed the boundaries into your land, and we must stop him before it is too late!”

“Owlowiscious, sometimes I wish I could understand your hooting,” Twilight sighed.

That annoys me, too. Is she DEAF or something? Every time I try to have an intelligent conversation with her, she notes that she cannot understand my words. What a cruel world….

I eventually resorted to primitive tactics, encouraging her to follow me as best I could. She, of course, had to wake up her five associates along the way, since she could never do anything important without them. It was if they possessed some unknown power amongst themselves that could only thrive when they all united. It was something unreal, something amazing—something…magical.

Pshaw, whatever.

We had almost reached the spot where the dastardly creature had first appeared when the yellow pegasus shrieked in horror.

“Fluttershy!” gasped Twilight. “What’s the matter?”

All the poor yellow pesgasus could do was gesture her hoof toward…my alicorn of the day, it was he, the human! Not only had he made himself at home so soon, he had already started the next stage in the human’s totally stereotypical, but still abominable, practice: sweet talking.

Now this was a most unusual case of sweet talking. Normally, the human will sweet talk to the magical unicorn or one of her associates, but this time he was sweet talking the crazy-eyed pony. In all my time in dealing with these obnoxious beings I have never seen such behavior before; however, I suppose that there can be a first time for everything. Besides, that fact did not amount to much, for we still had a grave situation on our wings…or hooves, if you happen to be a pony. But I am a great winged-one, so that phrase is irrelevant to my way of perception.

I then realized that I was deviating from my narrative, for soon the magical unicorn interrupted with an exclamatory phrase. “Hold it right there, mister!” she bellowed.

The human had just been getting closer, in a sense, to the crazy-eyed pony when the magical unicorn’s shout startled the feathers right off his back. Wait, humans do NOT have feathers. That was my error.

At this moment, a most inspirational and marching-type song filled the air. That could only mean one thing: the dancing mice were in for the battle. They marched proudly for only a moment, and then charged at the human, using such wonderful moves as the shuffle, the two-step, and the pirouette.

They failed miserably, but I believe that was the point. It was merely a distraction so that the magical unicorn could work her magic (did you happen to see what I did there?). After much groaning and panting, she finally sent the human back through to his own world where he somewhat belonged. All the ponies jumped and said “Yay” in unison, with the yellow pegasus adding in a couple specialty “yays” as well.

This was where I was personally confused. Why did the magical unicorn wake up her associates just to cheer with her? Could she have not aroused the baby dragon from his sleep and used him to jump, shout, and knock herself out? Was the entire cheering bit even necessary? To use a heathen-like term, nah.

And that is the tale of how the dancing mice and I saved the land of the ponies. Impressive, is it not?

As for me, I am quite tired off this narrative, much to your disappointment, I am quite sure. Do not worry, I shall return again one day in the distant future. But now I must fly across the sky pointlessly, because that is what we great winged-ones are there to do—fly around pointlessly and dance with field mice.

Oh, wait a moment, I almost forgot about the moral. I just so happened to remember that we need a fitting lesson to accompany this chronicle. Therefore, here is a moral: just cross bridges when you burn them. Quite fitting, is it not?

THIS IS THE END OF THE STORY

(Would you like fries with that?)

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