> The Equiteer > by Doctor Monochrome > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Opening Letter To The Readers > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Equiteer By Doc Monchrome in collaboration with The Lord Insanty (A.K.A The Lord Fanboy) Opening Letter to the Reader(s): Dear Reader, If you are reading this, you have found something that, I regret to say, you should not be reading. This whole package contains spells, magic, technological device blueprints, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera: all of which can be potentially used to tear and destroy reality as you, or I, know it. If you are Hell-bent to have revenge against the dupe who snatched your girlfriend's affections, resorting to the widely arrayed paradoxical pulverizers of physicality enclosed within is NOT the best, much less the most useful, way to go. Consider instead, forgiveness. Or if you must enact revenge, a whoopie cushion and a set of high school embarrassment rituals are FAR safer than the total destruction of the universe. No? You don't wish to stop? You're not a teen bent on revenge? Well then by all means proceed...with caution I am Monochrome...Doctor Monochrome. I, dear reader, am a member of the equine species most commonly known as the pony. You may have seen me, and yet you may not have seen me. To jog your memory, I hail from the land of Equestria: a fictional universe existing within a popular little girl's toy franchise in your dimension. I will leave my specific details silent for now. Inside is the story of a human. A human who helped save our land. A human, whom we are all indebted to. A human who, without, all of us ponies would perish. Without further ado, Monochrome. > Chapter 1: Prelude To A Time Of Darkness. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT!!! No. Let's forget the cliche story elements. It was a very wet evening. Everything glistened gloomily under the streetlights as the rain trickled down onto the street. It was foreboding, as if foreshadowing a tragedy to come: or so John Carson mused. Of course, as John sat on his friend's couch, he merely dismissed the rain as a part of a regular storm. He was not, after all, God: who as he knew, was all knowing, all powerful, and everywhere. John wasn't the very social kind. Thus one reason why he was sitting in the living room of his friend's house alone, and away from the social gathering that was happening between his parents and the parents of his friend: Mark Adams. John's younger sisters could be seen socializing with Mark's elder sis. But where was Mark? For a bathroom break, he sure was taking an awfully long time. Ah! Speak of the devil. Here he comes now! "Sorry John." Mark said after approaching the couch. "I was getting the game set up." John lowered his eyes contemplatively for a second. "That's okay." He said standing up. "We're playing Portal 2 I assume?" Mark nods and starts to walk to his bedroom. John, likewise, follows. John walked inside the room and grabbed one of the controllers before sitting on the bed. Mark followed suit: grabbing the other controller and then, sitting on the chair by his desk. With this, he started the Co-op: John being ATLAS and Mark being P-Body. "So school's been going well for you?" Mark said to John. "Yes." John replied. "I have good grades in all of my courses. Math isn't doing as well, but It could be worse. How's school going for you?" Mark nods as he jumps over a gap in the floor. "I'm doing fine." He says. "You may want to place a portal right over there." "Got it." John says. John spies a light blue fabric hiding in the closet: the Rainbow Dash plushie his friend cherished. Outside of his school friends, only John knew about Mark being a brony. It was a grave secret to bear: John could never fully understand the fandom. But he never thought Mark wrong. A bit odd maybe, but not wrong. Not sinning against The Lord. Of course, John was not Mark's parent. He was his friend. "So does your family know you like my little pony?" He said to Mark. "No. Not yet." He said with a slightly glum tone. "I'm still afraid that my parents wouldn't take the news well." John nodded understandingly. Howard Adams, Mark's father, came to mind in his head: knowing the fire and force of his sermons. John shivered at imagining what Pastor Adams would do if he found out about Mark's love for MLP. John could only hope he was a discerning and wise man: not prone to jumping to conclusions. "Ah." John said. "Turret at 3 o'clock." "On it!" Mark stated. "I mean, I would like to tell them. But they've brought me up to like manly things." "Yep." John said: looking at the gun and longbow on his walls. "How bout you. You ever look at an episode?" Mark said to John. John shook his head. "I've been busy." He said. "Besides. I have too big of an ego to watch a little girls show." John dispatches a turret by placing a portal under it and launching it into the dark brown goop below, "Say hello to slime bot." He says with a mischievous grin. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Mark. John's family has to go." His sister could be heard saying. "Ah blast." John says before standing up. "That time already." He shakes Marks hand. "Well, I suppose I'll see you at church tomorrow." John says with a smile. "Yeah." Mark replies. "See you then." John then turned around and walked out the door of Mark's room: to eventually be greeted by the smiling faces of his parents. On the drive home, John's mind still was reeling concerning the safety of his friend. He understood why people would react negatively about it, but he didn't see it as a moral issue. The show, according to mark anyways, was good. It was clean, the animation and character design were superb, and the stories were well written and not horrible. The characters were well made in a manner consistent with the show's good writing, and yes...the show even had action and fighting in it: albeit not as much as transformers or any other male oriented show. "It was funny, it was cute, it was great" to quote Mark. The fact that it was a girls show, of course, was why so many react negatively to a guy watching it. It's content never mattered. But alas, John's thoughts came to a close as the long driveway of his parent's suburban house came into view. They were home already and John couldn't wait to get to his computer and admire the crystal collection he was building. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe Mark's parents would take his status as a Brony well. Only time would tell. > Chapter 2: The Darkness Encloses > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Monday night, John could not sleep well. It was one of those nights when his own Parent's strictness got the better of his emotions. He sat in bed reading a comic book from the rack: The Stupendous Six and The Silver Slasher. It kept his mind occupied, but the booming sounds of thunder could be heard off the distance. It had been sunny for the past couple days too. It boggled his mind at the quickness of the storms. As the Six in the comic started to corner the Slasher in an alley, John thought he heard a faint humming. This wasn't everything. Off in the distance, sirens and ambulance could be heard. Of course, in the city, this was almost always heard. Someone gets a heart attack, chokes on an olive, or just plain collapses, 911 is called. Because of this, John dismissed it. With this, John started to nod off: lightning and thunder getting closer before John dozed into the unconsciousness of sleep. Brightly colored forms clouded John's dreams. They were familiar, horse shaped ones. John couldn't pin down where he's seen them. But their silhouettes he had seen before. They seemed to stand around his bed. Staring. Watching. As if expecting him to make an address to them. John lifts his arm in the dream-like state and touches one of the figures outstretched arms: a familiar blue one with tail and mane a blur of varying colors. They don't react. They just stare. Cocking their heads to the side as if curious about John's being. Then a pair of eyes, red and glowing could be seen in the back. They're small and hidden: as if something evil is lurking there. Then, with no warning, the dark figure flies at John: evaporating the brightly colored figures and making a loud crackle as darkness encompasses John's vision. John jumps up in bed. The sound of pouring rain and booming thunder could be heard out his room window. John rubs his eyes and looks at the clock. 9:30 AM. "That was the strangest nightmare I've ever had." John mutters to himself. John steps out of bed and opens the window. The day was even gloomier than last Saturday. It dampened John's spirits enough: though he usually loved the rain. Without hesitating, John get's dressed for the day. In some odd amount of time, he would have to go to the college. So it was best to get ready. Having finished preparing himself for the day, John walks out of his bedroom and down the stairs into the living room. It's quiet. All too quiet. Something is especially different about this morning and it's not necessarily the recent installment of floral print curtains on the living room windows. No. It was the glum, depressed, in fact, weepy expression on his mother's face. As well as the sinister grave look his father usually exhibited when he was somber. On top of it, his two sisters were teary eyed and whimpering. This all came as a shock to John. And because of it, he could feel his heart rate increase and body shake. Something happened. Something that he would likely dread to hear about. "What's going on?" John croaked: his anxiety getting ahold of him. His mother looked at John's father, who nodded and looked John square in the eye. 'Uh oh.' John thought. "Your friend, Mark." John's father said slowly. John's heart raced a bit more. This clearly was not good if it had to do with Mark. "Mark passed away." John's father said. The words hit John like a knife stab. "W-what?!" John nearly whispered. "Mark was hit by a car last night. His father...he was going to punish Mark, he ran off, tripped at the side of the road in front of an oncoming car." Father said. John's knees went weak. "M-Mark.....gone?" John said: it was still not processing. "Gone?!" "Yes." John's father said. John should've known. Those sirens weren't for any old geezer, they were for Mark. They were the sign of Mark's end. No longer would he see Mark in person. Not till he dies or Christ returns that was. Now it made sense: the crying, the glum attitudes. Even the depressing storm and the nightmare seemed to echo the sudden tragedy. "He can't be." John said: his face wrinkling ever so slowly into an expression of despair and anguish. "This is just more of the nightmare!" "It's not a nightmare." John's mother croaked. "He's really dead." And that confirmed John's worst fears. It wasn't the end of them either. Two weeks later, Sunday Morning service: John's family prepared for church. This would be the first time Mark's father would be preaching since the death of his son. John wondered what Mark's father was going to teach this morning. Maybe a recap of salvation or a sermon that pertains to what happens to a Christian after they die. Maybe something that would lift the spirits of them all. Something that would give them joy: reassuring them that God is in control despite the trials we are to endure in the Genesis 3 world. Alas, this wasn't the case. As the family car pulled into the church parking lot, the billboard read "Beware the gay ponies." John stared at the message of the board with widened eyes. Pastor Adams found out about Mark being a brony. And from the looks of it, he did not take the fact well. John swallowed a hard lump of fear as they entered the double doors of the small church. He knew the message was going to be inflammatory. They began on singing hymns. Nothing but the blood, when I survey the wondrous cross, good choices all of them. They seemed to put John's mind at rest a little. But not totally: his fear nagged at him more. Soon, after the last hymn was sung, Pastor Adams walked up to the pulpit. He had a grim look on his face. It was almost condescending. "Good morning." He said seriously: much like how he usually does. The congregation replied likewise. The pastor paused for a while and stared at the pulpit before looking back up at the conversation. "As you are all probably aware, my son, Mark Adams, had passed away." The pastor said. He paused yet again. Pain could be seen in his face. But there was more than pain. There was anger. "Before he died in a tragic accident," the pastor started, "We found that he had been watching the show called My Little Pony. It killed my son: the desire to continue watching the show." 'Here we go.' John though dismally. "He was in sin." The pastor continued, "He was watching lesbian ponies kissing each other and having sex." John was a bit shocked. But not phased. While John, himself, had never looked at an episode of the show, he knew as clear as day that a children's show wouldn't likely allow any mention or reference to sex at all. Unless...unless the world had become that perverted already. "I will be telling you about the dangers of my little pony and of the cultic practice called 'Bronyism'" Mr. Adam's continued. He went on about the pornographic fanart, the homoerotic shipping, and even just the basic fact that men were liking a show meant for girls. He accused all Bronies of being gay, of being pornographic artists, of bestiality even. As the message wore on, John's irritation grew, his anger grew. This was his own SON that he was accusing...John's friend...and yet he was dismissing all of the other evidences in his son's life that indicated the contrary. He was dismissing the wholehearted worship of God, dismissing the willing participation in church ministry. He was dismissing the evidence of Mark's salvation: the good works, the fruit of the spirit, his love of believers. And he was secretly accusing someone, who John had no doubt in his mind to be a true believer because of the evident change in his life, of being without salvation. But even still, what made John even more angry than the message about Bronyism, was that it made John doubt the integrity of his friend. Could it be possible that My Little Pony was filled with perverse ideologies? Could it be possible that Mark was hiding sexual sin in the closed comfort of his room? Could it be possible that Mark even condoned sexual immorality...even though he said many a time to John himself that he was against things like pornography, lust, homosexuality, etc? Could it be possible that the good works John saw in Mark's life were merely religious practices...and not the evidence of his salvation? John sat in the pew: a blank expression on his face. He wasn't sure if his life was crumbling before him. It sure felt like it was though. It's here when he noticed something else that was odd: Sarah wasn't in the front pew as she always was on Sunday's. "Now in closing, I am saying this as a warning to young men: If you see someone who watches My Little Pony, refuse to associate with them. Parents, if you catch your sons watching My Little Pony, do not hesitate to take the rod to him." Mr Adams finalized in an almost blood-chilling tone. "Now next week, we are going to cover the dangers of young women watching Transformers. " Pastor Adams glanced sympathetically at his wife when he said this: to which her facial expression gained a greater disposition of sadness as if she knew something even more terrible than Mark's death. "This is a topic we should be aware of because, like with My Little Pony, Transformers can turn young women into lesbians." He continued. The gears clicked as he said this. Could the reason Sarah was not here be because she was outed as a Lesbian for becoming a fan of transformers? Maybe. It was a hunch but a possibility nonetheless. The service ended like a snap after closing prayer. John's parents went to go talk with the Adam's, thank him for the message. But John just stood by and stared. Giving Pastor Adams an expression of disbelief, shock, and downright contempt. The Pastor seemed to notice this. After John's parents were done, he glanced at John. He smiled warmly at first. But as John stared, his face became more and more condescending: as if he knew John was questioning his authority. "Can I help you?" Mr. Adams said. "No." John said nervously. "I...nevermind." John walked off but glanced every now and then back at Mr. Adams: who folded his arms and nodded as if saying "Yeah. I thought not." The ride home from church was unbearable. John's father and mother discussed the message: displaying agreement with Pastor Adams position. Meanwhile, John sat in the far back behind his sisters in the van. His family was agreeing. One of his sisters seemed to be unsure about it, but the others, they agreed. "So son, what did you think of the message?" Father said. John snapped out of his blank stare through space. "Uh." John said. The family waited expectantly. John sighs. "I do not agree with Mr. Adams." John said boldly. The car shook as everyone gasped. "Son." Father said. "You're not a Brony are you?" John gave a deep breath. "No. I'm not." He said. "But I was a friend to one." "Look. You heard the pastor." Father said. "The brony fandom is full of lesbian/gay pornographists. You should not associate with them." "Just as much as any other fandom." John says. "There's even pornographic fanart of things like star-trek, Star Wars, I would imagine the same applies to the Chronicles of Na-." "That's enough!" John's father shouted. "When we get home, you're getting your internet access cut off. No son of mine is going to defend perversion." John shut his trap. He didn't even get his point across. John didn't even get to the fact that Christians were not just supposed to live a life secluded from the world. "Okay." John said flatly. The rest of the way home was spent in silence. Upon approaching the house, John made his way out of the car and up to his room. He plopped onto the bed: not bothering to change out of his suit. There were so many things he wished weren't true: his parents turning on him, Mark's death, the impending internet restrictions. Alas, the best John could do was rub his temples to relieve the stress. After a while of lying there, John stood up and approached the closet. He takes off the black jacket. However, he doesn't take off the dark grey dress shirt and pants. Instead, he leaves them on and lands on his bed once more. John was tired. The morning had wiped him out. So, John closed his eyes in an effort to take a snooze. John soon opened his eyes at the sound of a hum. The brightly colored equineforms reappeared. There were six to be exact. John didn't know how he didn't see this earlier. And even more noticeable: they were not as muddled. Their features were even more detectable. And this only made them even more familiar. "Hello?" He thought he heard the purple one say. "John Carson?" John stared at these figures. "Hello?" He replied. "Who are you and where did you come from?" The figures stared for a while before the blue one finally responded. "The crystals!" It said: seemingly pointing to the large, unique crystals on his window. The figures all left John's bedside and walked to the crystals. They seemed awed by the unique way the sunlight refracted through the pastel-rock colored form. But, no sooner had they approached the rack of crystals did they completely evaporate and the scene went black. "GAH!!!" John shouted as he awoke from the nap. He had been asleep for an entire hour. And during his nap, he had another one of those strange dreams. He didn't think much of it obviously. But he walked over to the crystal rack and picked up one of the flattish colored Crystals. It the most mysterious specimen of crystal that he had ever found: each looked so much like they came from a cartoon and yet, they bore a strange sense of reality as well. They each had a strange, silky texture, and yet they were easy to grip as well. With one in hand, he walked downstairs to watch TV. Everyone was gone. Mom and dad appeared to be taking a nap of their own. The girls were nowhere to be seen: though John assumed they went out to a movie. Without exerting himself too much, John turned on the TV and started browsing through channels. Not thinking, John accidentally clicked on The Hub as My Little Pony was playing. It was the introductory titles at this point. A catchy theme mixed with a very well animated title sequence. John thought he heard his Father stir, and so he flipped to the sports channel: hoping that his father had forgotten about the countless times he said sports were boring to watch. When the rustling of his father died down, John flipped it back to the hub, turned the volume down, and began to watch an episode. As he watched a purple pony named Twilight Sparkle lose her sanity over a potentially late letter to the princess, only one thing stood out in his mind: "This...is a show for Little Girls?!" He said to himself with a chuckle. He had to admit: this was hilarious. But voices from the parent's bedroom could be heard. And so, John cut it off: switching to Spongebob instead. As if on cue, his father rounded the corner of the nearby hallway. "What are you watching?" His father asked curiously. "Just Spongebob." John said: pointing to the familiar sponge on the TV. His father squinted at the TV ever so slightly before he continued on his way to the backyard. He was going to relax on the chair they kept out there: as he always did on Sundays. John quickly turned the TV off and made a retreat to his room. "That was close." He thought to himself as he sat at his desk. John replaced the crystal onto his window sill. They began to hum harmoniously as he did this: to which John cocked his head to the side out of intense curiosity. This was the same hum he would hear before each of those dreams. John turns around and sees a large, white, equine shaped figure. Next to it, he sees another, shorter one: also white. The taller looks female whereas the smaller appears to be male. John's heart begins to race out of fear. He was seeing this in real-time. He had not fallen asleep as far as he knew. Wait...Darkness. John shoots up from lying on the floor. He just...collapsed! He passed out. He had an episode of syncope. John rubbed his head. It was twinging from the impact with the floor. As if this weren't bad enough, the crystals were still humming, and the six equine shaped figures had shown up. Only this time, they were facing something that drove John to shudder even more. A dark, ominous figure shrouded the entire room and stood in the center. A wide, smug, glowing grin plastered itself underneath two wicked, murderous eyes. Then, the monster opens it's mouth wide, the six figures disappear, and the scene goes black as pitch once more. > Chapter 3: A Stranger In A Foreign Land > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- We all have those points in time where we are woken up from sleep: completely disoriented, not fully aware of our surroundings, and very likely unable to figure out who, or what, is standing directly in front of our faces. Well, when our hero finally came to the second time, this was exactly how he awoke. John was extremely dizzy. He felt as though someone had thrown him into a washing machine and turned the spin cycle on. He could barely make out what he was seeing: though he could tell that he was outside. After a couple seconds of mental spinning and twirling, the vertigo stopped, and John could see clearly. "Where the heck am I?" He thought. Of course, it took him a while for his surroundings to fully register with him. "W-Why does everything look all...cartoony?!" He said in a slightly panicked tone. And John was right: despite the fact that there was more "detail" and "space" than any regular cartoon, everything was still quite cartoony. In a way, it all reminded John of a Pixar movie. This wasn't everything. Staring him right in the face was a figure. In fact, the figure resembled those in those nightmares. However, it was not the hazy, indistinct figure that he saw in those dreams. It was, in fact, flesh and blood. It's full features were distinguishable. It's fine fur colored a light blue. It's wide, light purple, eyes were shiny as one would see in an eye that was wet with tears...or, at least, mildly coated to keep the eye hydrated. There was a mark on her rump: that of which appeared to be a white colored lightning bolt inset of a white circle. It was, as John soon realized, A pony from that show. The pony gawked at John and John, likewise, gawked back. After five seconds of stares were exchanged, both John and the strange pony screamed as loud as possible. The two scooted away from each other and John, not paying attention to where he was going, fell into a large pond. This caused John to panic even more. "Help! I can't get out!" He said: only to shortly realize that the pond was not that deep. "Oh...right." The pony stood back afar off: a terrified look on it's face. "Um...Hi?" John said as kindly as he could. The pony continued to stare at John as it raised a hoof to wave. "I...uh...seem to be a bit lost." John said. "Where am I?" After a few seconds, the pony spoke. "Y-you're on the outskirts of Ponyville." She said. "Ponyville?" John thought. "There doesn't happen to be a telephone I can borrow right?" The pony gave John an even more surprised look. Of course. Throughout the entirety of what he saw in that episode, there seemed to be a considerable lack of technology. No cars, only carriages. No phones, only letters. Not to mention, of course, that this was a cartoon and he had just come from what he knew to be reality. So if there were dimensional barriers to cross, the chance of doing that to send a letter back home was impossible. And on top of it, what if he was a pony all along!? What if what he knew to be reality was all a dream or a construct in his pony mind!? Obviously, the female pony could tell that John's mind was frantic. In fact, he was practically hyperventilating. "Hey." She said. "HEY! Stop that! You're freaking me out!" John diverted his attention back to her: her face indicating sincere concern but extreme annoyance. He smiled nervously. He began to step out of the pond before looking down at his reflection in the water. The first and obvious thing to note was that John was no longer a human. He had transformed, somehow, someway, into the same equine figures of the show: a pony. He no longer had hands or feet, but instead, four pairs of hooves on a set of legs that were suited for quadrupedal mobility. His coat was white and his eyes were blue. His black mane was combed back as if mimicking a 30's business cut. And on his own rump was what appeared to be an orange colored asterisk set in the center of an orange circle. He was too paralyzed by the sight to scream any further: not to mention the other pony who started to approach the pond. "Need some help?" She said as she briskly held out a hoof to John. "Yes." John says. He grabbed her hoof and she helped him out of the pond. However, once on his legs, he lost his balance and collapsed forwards. "Oof!" He says. "Sorry about that!" She says helping him up again. "And sorry for screaming. You scared me back there: popping up out of nowhere like that and all." "Popping up out of nowhere?" John said: starting to get the hang of standing on four legs. "Yes! You just popped up in front of me." She continued. "Interesting." He mused. "Anyways. I'm June Bolt." She said. "Uh...John." He stuttered. "John Carson. Nice to meet you." The two stood in silence for a couple seconds before John spoke. "So Ponyville is the next stop?" He said. "Yes." June stated. "Do they have any scientists? Any research teams working on dimensional physics?" John said. June gave John a curious look. Though she also seemed to bear a hinted understanding of his predicament. She shook her head plainly and started to trot off with a flick of her tail. John felt helpless: he was trapped in this universe for, to his knowledge, eternity. He sat down onto the ground by him: supporting his weight with his front legs. "I guess..." He said to himself, "I will have to get used to this new way of life." The thought struck his mind like the dead ring of a hammer hitting a nail. He had to not only gain the ability to act and think like a pony from the show, but he also had to get the chops to let go of his past life. So, with a deep inhale, he wobbly stood up on all fours. Then, with even pace, he went down the road in the same direction as June. It wasn't long for him to catch up with her. In fact, it partly seemed like she was just waiting for John to turn up. "So how far is Ponyville from here?" He said to June. "About we're coming up on it soon. About a half a mile away." She said with a smile. "I take it you've never been there before? "Yep." John responded. As if on cue, the tops of the buildings could be seen over the top of a hill. He didn't know how, but something about the colorful, picturesque scene made John feel a bit more cheerful than he was minutes ago. As Ponyville become more visible over the top of the hill, this strange cheerfulness increased and was soon followed by an odd sense of belonging. After a minute, the two of them had passed the first buildings of the small town. Ponies around them carried on with their usual business: seemingly paying less attention to the fact that at least one of them had never been here before. However, there was an odd sense of warmth and friendliness. The ponies, whenever they passed by, tended to wave kindly at John and June. Some would give a casual hello, others a "howdy" and few would even ask how they were doing. John's cheeks were becoming sore. He was smiling almost compulsively as each pony approached: partly to hide his pre-existing depression, the other part out of a strange enjoyment of the situation. "Welcome to Ponyville John." June said as the two walked down the streets. "Oh...Thanks." He said: almost forgetting she was there. June smirked. "Now I suppose you need someplace to live?" She said. "There's a directory in the library. We might be able to find an empty house somewhere around." John nodded understandably. He just hoped he could find a way back ho— Wait...that purple pony! The main character of the show! She was able to teleport and place a spell on that ragdoll. If he could find her, maybe he could let her know of his predicament and get her to send him back! The only problem was finding the pony. She obviously had to live around here: this was, after all, the city from the show. However, the gears in John's mind suddenly stopped whirring as a loud, shrill, and over-exaggerated inhale sounded shortly by his ear. Standing right next to him, a pink pony bearing a rather buoyant mane could be seen staring at him. Her facial expression indicated a look of extreme surprise. John himself was equally surprised at the sudden reaction. The sudden zipping away of the pony only made him scrunch his face in shock even more. June appeared unfazed by all of the commotion. "The heck was that?" John muttered. "Oh that was just Pinkie Pie." June said nonchalantly. "She always does that with new ponies." Pinkie Pie. Of course, that pink pony who is friends with the purple one! The two approached a large tree that stood in the center of a square. The tree appeared to have a door at it's base and several windows in it's trunk. For some reason, this tree was familiar. June tapped her hoof on the front door. It took a few seconds for the door to open and, when it did, the two were greeted by a small, green dragon: the assistant of the purple pony. John's eyes lit up. He was about to come face to face with the pony he wanted to see. "Yes?" The dragon said to the two. "Hi Spike!" June started. "I hope you and Twilight don't mind, but my friend here just came in and we need to look in the directory for a bit?" June grinned: a rather cute, cartoonish, "squeeing" noise emanating from her mouth. The dragon, known as Spike from what June called him, stared grimly for a while and looked back inside. "You might not like the sight of this." He said opening the door. Inside, books were toppled, some were flying into shelves, and a rather disgruntled looking, purple coated, winged unicorn could be seen picking the books up, checking them, and sending them into the shelves. It was her! Finally! John could ask for her help! As John grinned wider, June's grin dropped into a rather concerned frown. "What happened?" She asked Spike. "We don't know." Spike said. "It was like the whole library shook and sent the books flying off their shelves." "Is anypony hurt? Is there anything we can do to help?" She continued. Spike looked back at the purple pony inside. "I think Twilight would like it if you both helped her pick up and sort the books." Spike continued. He opened the door even wider to let John and June walk inside. The pony, named Twilight, turned around and gave the two an slightly surprised look. "June! What are you doing here?" Twilight said as she shelved a book. "And who's this?" "This is John." She said. "John Carson. We needed to look in the directory so that he can stay somewhere in Ponyville." Twilight looked at John with an even more shocked expression and muttered something under her breath John grinned widely. All he had to do was ask he if—. "But, we understand you need some help?" June continued: interrupting his train of thought. Twilight's face lit up. "Yes I do." She said formally. "We had something that shook the entire library earlier. As you can see, most of the books fell out of the shelves and became disorganized. June, do you think you can speed sort these books for me?" She pointed to a huge pile at one corner of the library. June nodded and stepped towards the pile. She closed her eyes tight and then, with a loud crackling noise, she opened her eyes: her eyes white aglow by some tremendous phenomena. The books shot up from the floor surrounded in a field of electricity. She quickly brought each book to the front of her face and sorted them to their respective shelves. Within three minutes, the entire pile had been reduced to two books: both of which Twilight sparkle put back herself. June quickly shut her eyes and reopened them: returning to their original state. She lowered her head and heaved an exhausted sigh before turning back to the two. "Thanks!" Twilight said as she put two books on to a shelf: one of which looked like a bible. John's jaw was wide open and his irises were the size of pennies as he attempted to process what had just happened. Twilight chuckled at John's facial expression. "So John Carson, you're new to Ponyville?" She said. "Yes. Yes I am." John said: snapping out of his shock. Just then, a crash comes from outside. "What in all of Equestria was that?" Twilight said: expanding her wings in surprise. John looked up to see a blue figure plastered against one of the windows. The red, yellow, and orange highlights at the top of it's head bore striking resemblance to a plush toy Mark used to cherish deeply: it was Rainbow Dash. "Mphstinkinpincipye!!! Dash could be heard: her voice muffled from the collision. Slowly, Dash started to slide down the window until suddenly falling to the ground with a loud THUMP!!! "Oh dear." Twilight said as she raced out the front door. John and June followed suit to eventually be met by a disgruntled Rainbow maned Pegasus and a severely concerned, albeit chuckling, purple Unisus. Dash appeared to be peeved beyond all manner possible: and the fact her wings were upside down and connected to her belly made it all the more clear why she was cranky. "Rainbow, what happened?" Twilight said: stifling a laugh. To some degree, John suspected Twilight knew what happened. "Ugh." Dash exclaimed. "Ask Pinkie Pie. She's the one who surprised me with some Poison Joke an hour ago." Twilight looked back smugly. "I figured so. Come on. Let's get you to the spa so that we can wash this off." She said. Dash folded her wings and looked up at June and John. "Hey June. Who's this?" She said: repressing her irritation. "This is John Carson." June said. Dash raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Huh. So this is—." She said before Twilight interrupted. "Okay! I really think we need to get going Dash!" She said. John raised an eyebrow and looked at June. She too, sat on her hind legs and shrugged in the best manner she could as a pony. She then got back on her fours, and began following Twilight and Dash. Jon, seeing he had potentially no alternative, followed after June and the other two. Upon reaching the so-called spa, the two ponies in charge of the establishment (to which, being completely ignorant of the show, he didn't know the names of) began to fill a large pool with an assorted set of herbs and spices. Dash stepped into the pool before, suddenly, another voice pops out from behind. "Twilight darling! How are you?" The voice said: it's posh nature driving John to look back to the source of the sound. Walking nearby was a white coated mare with a purple mane. The mark on her rump was that of three diamonds, and as her voice implied, she appeared to be very elegant and formal: this was Rarity. Standing next to her was another, light yellow coated, female Pegasus. Her mane was a light pink and the mark on her own rump was that of three butterflies: it was Fluttershy. "Rarity! Fluttershy! Hey!" Twilight responded. "We're doing fine. Um, but Rainbow..." Twilight looked back towards Dash, and likewise, Rarity and Fluttershy looked at Dash to see her upside down wings. "Ask Pinkie Pie." She said: as if sensing they were curious about the problem. Rarity nodded her head understandingly before taking notice of John. "How do you do?" She said trotting up to John. "I am Rarity." "John...John Carson." John replied. Fluttershy was cowering in the back. "And you are?" John said. She blinked her eyes nervously. "F-Fluttershy." She whispered. "Say what now?" John said again. "I-I'm F-Fluttershy." She whispered a little louder. "Futtersci?" John said. "T-that's Fluttershy darling." Rarity said. "Fluttershy?" John said. "Ah...well nice to meet you." John said with a calm and assuring nod. "N-nice to m-meet you too." She responded quietly. Dash was finished bathing by the time this discourse had ended. Her wings were in the upright position and, as so, she was hovering over the group. "Now I'm gonna go get back at Pinkie." She said. "She's setting up a small party down at Sugarcube corner. Oh she's sooooo going to get it." "I heard that!" A familiar voice said at the front of the shop. "Speak of the devil!" June remarked quietly. As so, Pinkie Pie was slowly making her way over to the small group. "Ahh darn it!" Dash said. "Yep! You're gonna have to get up pretty early in the morning to prank the Pinkster!" Pinkie said. She walked up to John, and with no clear warning, she grabbed him by the hoof and speedily dragged him down the streets of Ponyville. "H-hey!" John sputtered as the wind blew into his mouth. "W-what's t-the big idea?!" "You'll see silly!" Pinkie said. "I don't think this is the best way to start an introduction!" John said again. "Somebody help! I've been kidnapped by a lunatic pony!" "Somebody?" Pinkie said. "There's no buffalo here silly!" "What does that have to do with anything?!" John responded: his irritation growing more and more. "I don't know!" Pinkie said. "GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" John screamed as the two continued down the streets. John could see she was heading towards one single building: a bakery from the looks of it. "Oh no! This mad mare is gonna murder me!" John thought. And as soon as Pinkie approached the building, She thrust him through the door, causing him to land inside among a crowd of many unfamiliar ponies. "Surprise!!" They all shouted. John looked about him in a panicked manner. "What is this?! W-what's going on?!" He said. "Oh silly! It's a welcoming party welcoming you to Ponyville! DUUUHH!!!" Pinkie said. John smiled nervously. "This whole town is insane!" He thought. "We've got cake, balloons, pin the tail on the pony, a pinata, candy, and music." pinkie continued. "T-that's good!" John chuckled: slowly backing away towards the door. "But..uh...oh! I just remembered!" John turned around and started towards the door. But the rest of the group had just entered the door: unintentionally blocking his path. "Let's PARTAAYY!!!!" Pinkie screamed: music suddenly flooding the room. John lowered his head and frowned before walking towards the snacks table. John cocked his head to the side in curiosity as most of the food was apple related. "Howdy stranger!" An orange pony with an okie accent said. "What'cha hankering fer?" "Uh...I...I'm just looking." John said slowly backing away from the table before colliding with another, turquoise pony. "Hi! I'm Lyra!" The pony said holding out a hoof. "N-nice to meet you." John said shaking the hoof and, again, backing off. "Heya newcomer!" A grey, walleyed Pegasus said. "I'm Ditzy! Some ponies call me Derpy." "P-pleasure." John said. "Time Turner!" Another brown, British sounding pony said. "Sometimes known as Doctor Hooves or simply 'The Doctor'" John turned his head a bit at this. "The Doctor? You don't happen to be—." He said before being interrupted again. "Hi! I'm Bon Bon! I'm Lyra's older, saner sister." Another tan pony said. "Just a quick word of warning about her, she's crazy about humans! Whatever you do, do not mention the word 'human' when she's nearby." "HUMANS?!? WHERE?!?" Lyra could be heard in the back. Bon Bon looked back at Lyra with a glare before looking back at John "Uh..I-I won't!" John said. "Hello sir! The name is Octavia." A grey pony said. "It is an absolute pleasure to see you. We truly hope you have an excellent stay in Ponyville." "Y-yes I—." John said before being interrupted again. "Hey dude! Glad to see ya here!" Another white coated pony said: lifting her funky eyeglasses to reveal a pair of red-irised eyes. "Hey. If there's a jam ya want played, old Vinyl gotcha covered m'kay?" "Yes." John chuckled as he backed away slowly. "I'll...I'll keep that in mind." John turned around and quickly walked back. However, he soon collided with yet another white coated pony. "Oh. Hey. You're the new guy huh?" The pony said. "What's your name?" "Um. It's John. John Carson." John said. The pony suddenly looked at John with an extremely surprised look on his face. "John?!" He said? "John Carson?!" "Um...have we met before?" John said with a nervous smile. "Mark! It's me John! Your friend!" The pony said. John stared at the pony with a surprised expression for a couple of seconds before everything suddenly went to black.