• Published 26th Sep 2012
  • 70,318 Views, 4,624 Comments

No, I Am Not A Brony, Get Me Outta Equestria! - BronyWriter

A non-brony is transported to Equestria

  • ...




Good morning to you too.


I hate Mondays.

I pull my thick blue comforter off of me and sit up, stretching my arms behind my back to ease some of the stiffness out of them. My trusty black laptop lies dormant on the desk, right where I left it. I scratch the back of my neck, and I reach over to it to begin my morning internet ritual.

Oh that's right, you all probably want to know who the heck I am and why I'm telling you my morning routine, right? Well, if you insist.

My name is TD. Simple as that. Both letters stand for absolutely nothing at all. They're just letters. I'm a twenty year old Elementary Education major in a small-town college. I'm a W.A.S.P. Er... White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, as my Sociology professor so lovingly puts it, and... well, that's it, really. I'm not dating anybody, I'm not special, and I’m not particularly successful. I'm kind of boring when I think about it. I'll probably end up marrying someone in a few years, pop out a few kids, and end up teaching fifth graders in a small town not unlike the one I currently live in. That's purely speculation on my part, though. The present is more important, as my father would say.

Speaking of the present, my computer powers on, and I immediately open up the internet to begin my site browsing. It's just all part of the routine, and my life is all about routine. I don't really expect this to change.

I glance over at my alarm clock after idly surfing the web for a few minutes, and see that it is nine-thirty. Well, time to get ready for work.

I hop out of bed and walk over to my closet, where I pick a work shirt off of the rack, as well as a pair of black jeans. As I finish putting them on, I look up at my dear roommate, who is awake and currently surfing the web on his own laptop.

I roll my eyes when I see where he is: Ponychan.

Yep, my roommate is a brony, and boy does it get annoying sometimes. Don't get me wrong, he's a cool enough guy most of the time. He goes to his classes, he does his homework, and he plays video games on the Xbox he brought up. Heck, he's even an amateur stand-up comedian, and not a half-bad one at that, I have to admit.

But the ponies... oh man, the ponies. He loves that show more than most things in his life right now, I swear. He has a pair of My Little Pony dolls that he keeps on his desk, and a pair of plushies on his bed, Flutter something-or-other and Pinkie Pie. I only know the latter because of a drawing of Pinkie Pie that he has over his desk in our room with her name scrawled under it. I swear, I'll never understand why on Earth he likes shows like that, or takes his love to that extreme.

He keeps insisting that I'll like the show myself if I just give it a shot. Well, I did give it one. If a bunch of adult men like it, then maybe there is something in the show that guys like myself can like. It's certainly not impossible for adults to enjoy a kid's show. There are definitely animated kid's shows I've seen that I find hysterical.

Well, as I was saying, I did eventually sit down and watch the first two episodes and... I didn't get it. From the very first minute when the bright images and the cheerful music appeared, I could tell that something was seriously wrong. The narrating voice was far too happy and girly, and the story she told was just… bleagh. It made my skin crawl from the sheer un-manliness of it all. They didn't even give the villain a good backstory! It was just 'she's evil because she's jealous'. That story became cliché in the bible.

Well, after watching the pilot and voicing my well-reasoned and intelligent argument to my roommate that the show was utterly ridiculous and that he should be ashamed of himself for liking it, he admitted that the first two were pretty weak. Without missing a beat, he insisted that I watch past the first few to really get a grasp on what the show is like. Okay, fair enough, I did that too. I watched the one where the purple-haired diva goes to the big city and spends twenty-two minutes lying to everyone before she gets away with it in the end. I also watched the one where the diva manipulates the fire ruby away from the baby dragon who then goes on a rampage and nearly kills everything. Uh huh, I can definitely see the appeal.

It took a while, but my roommate did accept that I wouldn't 'join the herd', yeesh , and he has since stopped bugging me about it. Still, I know he secretly thinks that I'll cave in and love the show as much as he does. Yeah right. Granted, I'm not going to become some troll who goes online just looking to be a jerk to every Brony he finds, either. We at least compromised there.

At any rate, I grab my trusty scooter from its perch inside my closet. My laptop goes in my computer bag, which I then sling over my shoulder before putting my wallet and cellphone, as well as a pen, in my pockets. I have class directly after work and I don't have time to go back to my room between the two.

The warm spring wind hits me as I push open the door to my residence hall, and the omnipresent smell of cows smacks me directly in the face. It's just something that you have to get used to around here. I continue to ignore the cow smell as I adjust my bag once more and hop on the scooter. My left leg propels me forward, and I steadily scoot along towards my place of employment: one of the small take-out places in the University Center, where I work as a dishwasher.

As my destination draws nearer, I look ahead of me to see, of all people, my sister Kristen walking down the sidewalk. This isn't exactly an odd occurrence, since we both go to this school, but she lives in a completely different dorm than I do. We don't see each other that often. I call out to her and she turns around. We give each other subdued greeting nods, and she slows down slightly while I hop off my scooter so we can walk next to each other.

"'Sup," she says.

"Eh, nothin' much. How about you?"

"I'm fine." Kristen motions towards one of the upcoming buildings. "I'm just heading to class."

"Old English Lit or Grammar Nazi?" I ask.

She gives a small smirk and rolls her eyes slightly. "Grammar Nazi."

I copy her smirk and add a chuckle to it. "I'm surprised you haven't dropped out of his class based on the horror stories I hear from you about his rules."

She shoves me to the side as an unspoken ‘oh, come on!’. "It's because I actually work on my research papers,” she snarks, “unlike someone I know who just does them at the last minute!"

"Oh, really? Because last time I heard, you got a little help from that dude who sits next to you in German.” I laugh. “Isn't it sad that a foreigner has a better grasp of our beloved language than you do?"

"He's not actually German, he just lived there for three years,” she grumbles. “Besides, he didn't help me at all. I actually helped him out more than he helped me."

"Ooh, sounds racy," I reply with a snicker.

"Isn't it funny that you make the most fun out of me, and I still do better romantically than you do?" She mock-thoughtfully taps her chin. "When was the last time you had a steady girlfriend?"

"At least Mom doesn't lie awake at night wondering if I'm going to get knocked up when I'm drunk at a party."

She stops at this and shoots me a piercing death glare that I have absolutely no trouble returning. Our staring contest goes on for a while until, as always, we break out into laughter. To an outsider, it may seem like we are seriously arguing, but ripping into each other is just our way of joking around.

"'Sounds racy.’ You're in top form today," she says with a grin.

"You started it with that 'last minute' crack. You didn't expect me to take that lying down, did you?"

She chuckles and shakes her head. "Nope."

The two of us fall silent, and I remember the upcoming weekend. "So, Dad’s coming to get us Friday at five then, yeah?"

Kristen nods. "Yeah, and he's taking us back up after football."

"Nice," I reply with a grin. It used to be a Sunday tradition amongst my sister, father, and and I to set ourselves on the couch in the basement to watch football until there was no more football to watch, while my mom has a day to herself. Of course, that all changed when Kristen and I came up to college, but we still do it when we can.

After we talk football for a minute or so, Kristen motions that she has to be off. I hop back on my scooter, and we part ways.

I screech to a halt right at the four-way crosswalk and stand restlessly as I wait for the sign to cut across the street. A small group of fellow students converges behind me, waiting for the green light themselves. I drum on the handlebars restlessly, looking onwards as the traffic light finally changes to red and the pedestrian sign changes. Thankfully, that only takes three or four seconds. When it does, I’m off. I need to eat before my shift or else I'm going to be miserable all day. A hungry TD is an irritable TD.

However, the dreams of mediocre, but satisfying, food dancing in my head are interrupted by a screeching noise that is getting steadily louder as the fractions of seconds tick on. It seems somebody didn't notice the red light because, when I look to my right, I find myself just about to get really friendly with the front bumper of an oncoming car.

* * * *

And Jesus wept.

Okay, maybe not Jesus, but I know I sure am about to. Holy moley, I have not been in so much pain since my appendectomy! The side of my head feels like it's on fire, my right elbow refuses to move, and I can already feel bruises forming all over my body.

But hey, if I'm in excruciating pain then that means I'm alive, right?

I swallow the bile that has been building up in my throat and give a small groan of pain. Trying to gauge my immediate surroundings doesn't do me much good.

"Oh my gosh, I think it's alive!" says a young feminine voice beside me.

It, what a flattering thing to be called as you lay in the middle of the pavement. Pavement that feels like... Grass?

Whoa, did the car fling me that far? I'd be impressed if I wasn't in so much pain. Oh well, it'll make a good story later.

"What should we do?" asks another voice, this one slightly gruffer but still young, and unmistakably feminine.

Uh, calling 911 would be a good place to start. I mean, if that's not too much trouble, that is.

"Ah think we should call Fluttershy," says another one, this one with a heavy southern accent. "Y'all know how good she is with animals. Maybe she could help us!"

...What did she just say?!

"That's a good idea," says the second voice. "You two wait here and guard it, and I'll go get Fluttershy."

"Got it!"

Okay, what the heck is going on?! Forget going to get ‘Fluttershy’, whoever that is, just call 911 and get me to a freaking hospital!

"You think it'll be alright, Apple Bloom?"

Again with the 'it'! I'm not an 'it'!

"Ah don't know Sweetie Belle, Ah ain't never seen nothin' like it before."

Did the car propel me straight into an all-female section of town? If not, that is just a downright ridiculous thing to say. However, that is quite unlikely, so the more reasonable explanation is... uh... actually, that's the most reasonable explanation that I can come up with right now.

I groan once more and begin trying to open my eyes.

"Ah think it's wakin' up!" says the Apple Bloom voice… I think.

"Mgrflm," I mumble.

"Whoa, I've never heard an animal make that noise before!" Is that... Sweetie Belle?

"Stoppit," I mumble thickly.

The duo gasps. "Did it just... talk?" Sweetie Belle asks.

"No duh," I say, my strength slowly returning. "’Course I talk."

"Oh boy," Apple Bloom mumbles. "This... Ah-Ah don't even know what this means!"

"Hey look, Scootaloo's coming back!" I hear the pitter-patter of footsteps on the grass, and Sweetie Belle's voice sounds farther away when she speaks next. "Fluttershy's with her!"

"Oh thank goodness! She'll know what to do!"

I try to open my eyes again, but the pain in my head means that I should just give up on this foolish endeavor. Great, maybe I have a concussion.

I hear the two move away from me for a brief moment before eight sets of footsteps approach. Wait, eight sets? Is Fluttershy a medical team? Well, that would be quite nice.

Wait a second... Fluttershy. Fluttershy? I think I've heard that name somewhere before…

"...And we just found it lying there, sprawled out like that," says the second voice. I think that’s Scootaloo, but it’s hard to tell.

"It talks, too!" Sweetie Belle announces excitedly.

"Oh... my," says a nervous fourth voice.

"Aww, I missed it! What did it say?"

"It said 'stop it', ‘no duh', and 'course Ah talk’," Apple Bloom explains.

"What do you think, Fluttershy?" I feel something poke my chest. "Can you heal it up?"

"I'm not an ‘it’, I'm a ‘he’," I mumble, hoping that they can understand me.

I hear Fluttershy gasp. "I... I... I... I gotta go get Twilight."

Twilight? Where have I heard that name before? Come to think of it, 'Apple Bloom' sounds vaguely familiar too, almost as if...

All of a sudden, it hits me like a car running a red light.

Oh no, oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no.

That can't be the explanation. There has to be some other reason for this! Maybe I'm hallucinating. Maybe I'm dead! Heck, maybe I ate too many blueberry bagels for dinner last night and now I'm paying the price, but the explanation has to be something other than what my brain is telling me is the true answer! What are the freaking odds that what I'm guessing is actually right?! This kind of thing only happens in fan fiction or something like that!

"Noooooooo!!" I say with the most drama and conviction that my battered form can muster before I fade into darkness once more.

* * * *


Well, that was quite the shocking dream…


At least, I hope it was a dream.


Thanks to the piercing beeping of a heart monitor thingie and the distinctive smell of a dozen different kinds of disinfectants that only belong in a hospital, I'm going to guess that the incident with the car wasn't quite as fake as my 'died and went to Equestria' dream.


"Is he gonna be alright, Doc?" asks an accented voice. No doubt that said voice belongs to a nurse, or some kind passerby, who saw my accident and took interest in my recovery.

"I... I think so. I've certainly never seen anything like this before," says a male.

Well, that is certainly a comforting thought. Usually when you end up in a hospital and your condition is something that the doctors haven't seen before, that's a cause for concern.

"Ugh," I say weakly.

"Oh my, the Crusaders were right, he does talk!" another female exclaims.

Wait... Dang it! Okay, it's high time I opened my eyes and saw exactly what the heck is going on here. I've had enough with just hearing what is going on.

The sheer amount of willpower it takes me to convince my stubborn body to do something as simple as open my eyes would allow me to beat a snake in a staring contest, but eventually my body gives in and my heavy eyelids begin to flutter open.

"He's awake!" yells someone I can tell is hyperactive just from those two words.

My eyes fully snap open and I am greeted with the sights of my surroundings for the first time. There, standing around me with wide eyes and fascinated expressions, are the six main characters of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, as well as a male pony who I unconsciously surmise is a hospital doctor, if the lab coat is any indication. The seven of them stare at me for a few moments, without so much as blinking.

I stare back, also unblinking and unmoving, wondering who should make the first move here. Should... should I say something?

Finally, the purple one, Twilight I remember, clears her throat and speaks up. "Ah... hello. My name is Twilight Sparkle. Can you understand me?"

I blink four times and nod, hoping that I will wake up and this will all be just a nightmare. It still might be just a nightmare. Or that’s what I hope it is.

Nothing happens. They’re still there and still staring. "Uh, hi," I reply with a bit of unease.

Even in my pained state, I can see the gears turning in Twilight's head. No doubt she has ten million questions that she wants to ask at that moment, if her character in the show is anything to go by, but she can't think of the right one to lead with. She opens her mouth once more. "What's your name?"

"TD," I answer evenly.

"Okay, TD," she nods. "It's nice to meet you."

"Uh-huh," I respond. Am I really happy to meet Twilight? No, I can’t say I am, because that means that I am not on Earth! Why I am not on Earth, I have no idea. I have to admit, it’s freaking me out a little bit.

The room is silent for a moment before the rainbow one clears her throat. "Uh... what are you?"

Ah-ha! There's the ten-million-dollar question. "I'm a human."

"A what?" asks Twilight.

"A human."

"What is a human exactly?" the diva asks.

"Uh..." I begin. How do I contextualize this for them? "I'm just that: a human, I guess."

"Okay, then..." Twilight responds carefully. "What are you doing here in Ponyville?"

"That is an excellent question." My eyes look around the sterile, white room as if the walls will hold some clue to why I am where I am. It just looks like a hospital room, though. "I don't really know. I know for darned sure that I'm not from here, so let's begin there."

Twilight's already comically large eyes grow a bit larger. "What?"

“Well, I don’t remember my world being this..." I motion around the room, looking for the right word. "Animated.” I decide to refrain from telling them that in my world they are fictional characters in a stupid fictional TV show designed for four year olds and yet loved by grown men. I don't know what that would do to them.

"Then how did you get here?" the rainbow one asks.

I raise my arm in a weak shrug. "I don't know. The last thing I remember is being hit by a car."

Now it's Twilight's turn to cock her head and give me a confused look. "A what?"

"A car. You know..." I stop right there. Of course they don't know what a car is. "Uh... a mechanical carriage."

"Okay," says Twilight. "That would explain the injuries, then."

I try to shift in the bed a bit and, as if to prove her point, my body screams in pain, which I do myself in response. I tense up until it goes away. Great, so not only am I in this stupid fictional world, I am also in a ton of pain. Gee, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?

"Are you alright?" asks Pinkie Pie.

"You tell me, I just got here," I say through clenched teeth.

"I suppose that's my department," says the doctor in a business-like tone as he opens up a manila folder. "You dislocated your right foreleg at the joint and had a minor concussion, plus a hairline fracture in your other foreleg. On top of that, you've been in a coma for the past four days."

My mouth drops open and I stare at the doctor in shock. "Four days?!"

“Indeed, four days." The doctor bites his lip and lifts up one of the pages. It almost looks like he's not even sure of what he's looking at. "We've done our best to patch you up, but frankly, we don't know much about your anatomy."

I look down at my broken body and discover that they've taken my shirt off. I would be irritated at this, except for the fact that a people hospital would have done the same thing. Still... “What did you do with my shirt?"

"Your what?" asks the doc.

I motion to my chest. "My shirt. You know, that dark blue thing I was wearing on my upper half?"

"That was a piece of clothing?" the diva asks with a note of disgust.

I nod, and she gives a small shudder. I roll my eyes at her antics. "Come on, it's not that bad! But seriously, where is it?"

"We removed it when we examined you." The doctor points towards a chair in the room a few feet from my bed. "We put it there with the rest of your stuff."

I stare in horror for a few moments when I see what used to be my shirt hanging off the back of the chair. What was once a decently well-maintained piece of clothing is now a mangled mess of dark blue fabric that no one in any dimension would ever recognize as a shirt.

I shoot the doctor an angry glare. "What did you do to it?!"

The doctor glances uneasily at the clothing. "Well, we had to take it off to examine your injuries fully…"

I angrily motion over to my destroyed work shirt. "So you went at it with a weed eater?!"

"No, nothing like that. We simply cut it off."

I groan and facepalm. It occurs to me that I should try to get over it though, because hey, why bother focusing on small things when there is the bigger issue of me freaking being in ponyland?! I examine the chair once more to see my computer bag is also sitting on it. My scooter is also leaning against the side. At least they aren't totally unrecognizable messes, so that’s good.

I look down at my arms. "How well do they work?" I ask the doctor. "Can I move them?"

The doctor opens up the folder once again and scans the inside for a brief moment. "I wouldn't bother trying to move your left foreleg for a few days. The fracture isn't one hundred percent healed. Your right foreleg should be fine, though. The luxation’s had time to heal already."

I gingerly begin to move my right arm, testing it for any pain or stiffness. It's a bit stiff, but it doesn't hurt when I move it. I reach over and grab my computer bag off of the chair. "They're called ‘arms’, by the way," I declare, doing my best to open up the bag with one arm.


"You're calling them forelegs; they're actually arms."

"Ah." His horn glows and a pencil floats from his coat pocket to the folder, where he jots down some notes. Normally I would have been surprised by a power like this, but since I had seen the show, I was expecting it. "That was one of our theories, but we couldn't really know for sure. I take it you’re bipedal then?"

I nod, finally unzipping the front pocket of my computer bag. The seven ponies watch in interest as I flip the laptop open and turn it on. I breathe a huge sigh of relief when the screen turns blue and begins powering up. No damage as far as I can see.

Twilight's eyes widen in curiosity and the first hints of a fascinated smile appear on her face, as she leans forward to examine my computer. "What's that?"

"My computer," I reply as I close it and stuff it back into my bag. "I was just making sure that it wasn't damaged."

"Was it?" asks Fluttershy.

I shake my head. "It seems fine." I put the bag down beside my bed and look back at the seven ponies. "So, what now?"

"Well," the stallion begins. "I don't see any reason why you need to stay here. You can go home in the morning."

"That would be wonderful," I snark, "but how can I get home?"

The doctor opens up his mouth for a brief moment, and then closes it again. "I... I don't know. Where do you live?"

"Again, not here," I say. "I don't think I even live in this universe!"

"Well then how did you end up here?" asks Fluttershy.

"Once more, I don't know."

"How do we get you back?" asks Twilight.

"I don't know!" I snarl, frustration slowly rising in my voice. "I was hoping you could tell me!"

"We don't even know where you are from!" Rainbow points out.

"Hence the problem.”

I see Twilight's brow furrow and she taps her lower jaw with her left hoof, deep in thought. I have to admit, the way she bites her lip and taps her jaw makes her look kind of comical. "We could try to ask Princess Celestia about it," she says finally.

I raise an eyebrow at her and cock my head ever so slightly. "Haven't you told her I'm here already? I mean, don't you two tell each other everything? Did you seriously not tell her that a... ‘thing’ is now on Ponyville’s hospital?"

"Well yeah," she admits. "And you should be thanking her, quite frankly. She's done some serious covering up around here."

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't want knowledge about you to get out until we really knew what was going on. She thought it would be for the best if your existence was kept quiet."

"How very thoughtful," I say sarcastically.

Twilight frowns. "She didn't have to do that, you know."

"Oh, I think she did," I retort acidly. "She doesn't strike me as the type to do something for no reason, even if that reason is incredibly ridiculous."

Twilight's scowl deepens. "How do you know anything about Princess Celestia anyway?"

I open my mouth to reply, but then I close it again. I've already decided that I can't tell them that they're fake. It's an already tense situation, and I don't fancy seeing where that goes right now. Having said that, it would no doubt create an interesting reaction.

"I guess I'm just... uh..." There I go again, showcasing how eloquent and well-spoken I am under pressure.


I opt for shrugging. "Rulers are all pretty much the same motivation-wise."

Twilight seems to realize that she isn't going to get anything more elaborate out of me, so she walks out of the room to go contact her puppeteer. The two pilot episodes didn't teach me much about this world, but gosh darn it if the end didn't show how manipulative Celestia could be. I sigh and look back at the doctor. "Can I walk?"

He frowns and checks the folder once more. "I don't see why not," he says after an once-over of one of the documents inside. "Your hind legs weren't damaged in the..." He motions towards me. "Whatever caused your injuries."

"Legs, doc. They’re not hind legs, just legs.”

Using my one good arm to throw the thin hospital blanket off of me, I gingerly sit up. My left arm screams at me to stop being foolish and just lie back down, but I'm determined to actually get out of bed. I don't want to be lying around all day after all. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, and the ponies take a step back as I stand up to my full height. As far as humans go, five-foot-ten is nothing too impressive, but to them I must be a little intimidating. Their heads hardly come up to my chest.

Thankfully, they have kept my pants and my shoes on. My wallet and cell phone seem to still be in my pockets as well. I don't fancy trying to get reception in this place, but it is still a nice thing to have around, if for no other reason than it can play the music I have stored on it.

I take a few uneasy steps and am glad to discover that my legs seem to have retained enough strength that I don’t collapse immediately. I should have no problems walking around.

"You doin' alright, sugarcube?" asks the accented one.

"I think so," I respond as I stretch my legs out. "What are all of your names again?"

It doesn't take me too long before I have all of their names down. They're nothing too complex. With the names in mind, I walk over to the chair to fully examine my work shirt. Yeah, they totally destroyed it. I know a hospital will cut clothing off if they have to, they cut off a jersey I was wearing when I broke my arm once, but this wasn't cutting it off. It was hacking it to pieces. I count myself lucky that whatever means they used to get it off didn't get my skin as well. I would have woken up as a bloody mess.

I open my computer bag and stuff the destroyed cloth inside, then hang the bag back on the chair. I want to take everything back with me once I find a way back, even the shirt. Hopefully the car crash wasn't actually fatal. If not, things will get really... afterlife-y the moment I return.

I turn back to the ponies, who are watching my every move with interest. I take a deep breath, something that aggravates my fractured arm a bit, and try to think of something to say. "So, how long before Twilight gets Celestia?"

"Ah think you'd better call her 'Princess Celestia', if ya don't mind," Applejack reprimands with a hint of sternness dotting her voice.

My glower returns her sternness. "Why? She's not my princess."

"Well, just outta plain respect!" Rainbow Dash reinforces.

I’m about to explain to her why I don't have to respect a darned thing about her, but the door to my room opens up and in walks Twilight followed by none other than the object of our conversation. That was quick, wasn't it? A little too quick. Almost as if she was waiting nearby for me to wake up. Immediately the six ponies bow low to the ground. I stay on my feet. I don't like where this is going.

The two of us lock gazes and examine each other. As ponies go, I can definitely see why they respect her. She does admittedly look a tad daunting, if nothing else than for her size. She’s at least two or three inches taller than I am.

After a few moments of her staring at the new creature in her world and me staring back at the pure white quadruped god-thing, I begin to feel a bit uncomfortable. "So," I say, hoping that will get the ball rolling.

"So," she replies in kind. Dang, her voice is even more corny and girly in 'reality' than on the show. "You are the result of the spell."

I recoil a bit in shock at her statement. Spell? What spell? "Uh... what?"

Instead of responding directly to my reasonable question, she turns back to the doctor and gives a slight nod. The doctor nods back and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Only then does she turn back to the rest of us. "I want all of you to listen carefully. What I am about to explain is not to leave this room."

"We understand, Princess," Twilight says for the others.

I narrow my eyes slightly. Now I really don't like where this is going.

She looks back at me and sighs. "It comes to my understanding that you are an intelligent creature. Am I correct?"

"Eh..." I shrug. "Close enough."

She nods at the confirmation. "Good. Hopefully, you will take what I am about to say with quiet dignity and grace, then."


"Now, before anything, you must understand that not even I am fully aware of what magic is capable of. I do not have total control over it and, like the best of us, I make mistakes sometimes."

Oh, this is not going to be pretty, is it?

"During an experiment, I stumbled upon something."

"What do you mean?" I ask suspiciously. The other six are listening to her with rapt attention.

"Like I said, some things about magic escape my understanding. In simple terms, it was a strong magical pull that began sucking the magic out of my room. I do not understand its nature, nor what caused it to appear, it just did."

This is so not going to be good.

"I used all of my powers to stop the outflow, and I succeeded… in a sense. The pull became a push, if you will, and all of the magic it was absorbing was released all over Equestria.

“I was, unfortunately, unaware of what the ramifications were at the moment."

"So what you're saying is..."

A presumably rare look of discomfort crosses the monarch's face, and it causes a similar feeling to creep up on me as well. Where is she going with this? "Basically, what I think happened is that portal between our two worlds was formed and pulled you here when the portal on my end collapsed. That is my best guess."

My eyes narrow some more at the revelation and the first hints of anger begin bubbling up inside of me. "So, in layman’s terms, you were messing around with magic, and thanks to that, you accidentally dragged me here?"

"I believe so," she says simply.

I give a slight nod at the information and walk up closer to her. She is admittedly a little more daunting this close up, but I don't really care about that right now.

Now, before I explain what happens, I must say that I have never been good at handling bad news, particularly the ‘I got in trouble over someone else’s mistake’ kind. Well, this was that situation to the extreme. Her messing around with magic meant that I was pulled into a world full of girlish talking cartoon ponies. Yeah, I was pulled into a little girl's show because she wasn't as good at magic as she thought she was. See, as pissed off and kind of freaked out as I am right now, I've been doing my best to keep that from getting out. I mean, even in situations like this, there’s no need to go freaking out and not acting like a civilized human being. Even situations like this can be looked at rationally.

At any rate, I take this bit of news exactly like I thought I would.

With all of the ‘quiet dignity and grace’ that I can muster, I walk up to Celestia and punch her in the face.