> An Alien's Guide to Equestria
>  by Newenglandee
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> The Ponies of Equestria, Part 1 (Contains Vore)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Being an alien invader isn’t easy."

The sun hung low over Twilight's castle as the alien being before the Mane Six tapped her chin with a small pen before waving a hand in the air. "I mean, you all think it’s so incredibly simple. Just come on down, guns blazing, screaming out alien obscenities as you “kill all humans”, no doubt. It isn’t that easy."

"We...wouldn't know." Twilight admitted with a shrug. "But I imagine you'd have to really get to know the planet you’re on, or you’ll end up in a world of trouble?"

"Oh, yeah, and possibly dead. Did you know this one race actually invaded a planet though it was allergic to water? And they lasted about a week before learning the hard way that the planet (which was not only covered in about 75% water and regularly released water from the sky in the form of rain) had an atmosphere made of water vapor." The alien admitted. Nee-Buh-Loh was a rather lovely sight, all things considered. Pink, soft eyes...a big, cheery smile, a form like the night sky. She was beautiful, yet beautiful in the same way a thunderstorm was beautiful. You knew it wasn't a good idea to get too close, yet it intrigued you all the same, as Nee did. "These poor idiots cooked in a dazzling display that the locals talked about for years to come. It was a sobering reminder to not be stupid when you pick a planet to invade."

"So you decided with a stealthy approach because you like "living"." Rainbow Dash remarked with a wry smile.

"Well, if I’m going to go to a planet and feed on the locals, I’d need to know about how they lived before finding out how they could die."

All of the assembled ponies cringed, especially Fluttershy, who hung her head and shook it back and forth. "I know you're a living galaxy. That Cosmo Sapiens need tantric energy, the type of energy only sentient beings give out because only sentient beings really have souls. But...it still is so mean."

"Look, we have to feed off entropy within us somehow, and that’s how we do it. Eating others. It’s not pretty, but it’s something we don’t have much choice over." The Huntress Nee-Buh-Loh sighed, scribbling down some more notes with her pen before tossing it to Twilight for her to look over. "And as for an alternative to that, an artificial source of tantric power, well, you’re not gonna find a Cosmo Sapien scientist. We might be knowledgeable, but we’re not “Smart-smart”. At least, not most of us. The need to hunt, to fight, to feel the thrill of the chase is drilled into our brains from childhood and our blood from birth! But me? I was different. I was more reserved and intelligent than a lot of my kind. So I understood the value of science."

"Hence why you were able to disguise yourself with this?" Rarity asked as she held up a disc-shaped device with a small, green blinking light at the end of a little datapad. She pressed a button, going "oooh" as she looked down at herself, now a lovely elfin creature with long, legs, tiny feet, and wings that stretched down like a gown to her ankles. "I must say, these disguises are quite intriguing!"

"Yes, and all I’d have to do was a simple reconnaissance of the major countries of the planet, find out who lived where, what their weaknesses were, and then get started. Not too hard, but the more time I spent here on the planet Equus, the more I began to like it quite a lot." Nee admitted. "Your planet is pretty, serene, there's a simple innocence about it all, a colorful array of races I was fascinated by. Especially you ponies. I mean, you're just adorable!" She exclaimed, Pinkie Pie popping up nearby as Nee rubbed her head. "Coochie-Coochie-Coo!"

"Tickle-Me Pinkie Pie dolls would be really easy to make." Pinkie admitted. "Wouldn't even need batteries. I should get to work on that."

"You make plushies in your spare time?" Applejack inquired, a bit confused as she tilted the hat she wore atop her head. 

"I do a LOT of things. I'm just glad the whole “invasion” thing didn’t quite work out." Pinkie told the alien huntress as she smiled and bowed her head at them. 

"That's why I want you all to help me write this book of mine. I want to demonstrate a complete outsider’s perspective of this planet and its people. And I want you pass along some words of wisdom, because as pretty, as peaceful and as near-perfect as this world can seem, well?" Nee flinched. "There’s a lot of messed up things I discovered when I was living here." 

"Well..." Twilight scratched her chin in a thoughtful fashion. "...alright. We'll help. If we all chip in, I'm sure it'll be a wonderful guide!" 

And indeed...it would be. The story would be both sword and shield to prepare it's readers  for whatever the Planet Equus offered. From the petty to the poisonous, from the slight to the significant, from the tiniest to the most terrible, the guide to Equestria would speak about the world and its people so all could know what fresh eyes saw.

"So we start with the Ponies, right?" Dash asked. "You GOTTA start with us."

"Oh, I will. And I've got a catchy title for the first chapter..."



CHATTER BOX IS A BIG FAT IDIOT




It was evidently clear the more time I spent in Canterlot listening to its radio broadcast program “The Chat Room” that Ms. Chatter Box was THE.

THE most unlikable woman I’ve ever heard speak. Her hatefulness rocketed out of the damn radio like a missile meant to launch you into space. Yet even then, I thought “Oh, well, maybe this is just a persona. Maybe she’s not that bad in real life and she’s just playing a role for fun and profit.”

Then when I actually saw her in person I thought “Nope. I was right the first time.”

My first bit of advice to you. Trust your instincts. Wait. Sometimes people’s instincts are awful.

I’ve got it!

Trust MY instincts. They’re almost always right.

My time interviewing the princesses, the people I had actually wanted to talk about, had to wait. Because Chatter Box was interviewing them first. It’s incredibly considerate of the Princesses to allow members of the new press corps that have formed to speak with them every day. Regrettably, Chatter Box considers herself one of them, and I was astounded at how she came across. Overly thick glasses? Not an issue. Slightly unkempt blond mane over her pale white furred body? No problem. But she was so…sweaty. Fat. And she smelled like, well, her scent was hard to describe. Some smells are so evocative they’re near-impossible. The best way I could put it was that she stank of burnt wet leaves that had been shoved into your face. With poor worms still wriggling on them somehow.

She kept asking the princesses about the country letting in the Changelings as citizens ever since they signed a treaty with Queen Chrysalis. It essentially meant that any Changeling who was willing and able could come into Equestria and be a citizen, contributing to the economy and being provided all the protections a citizen deserved. I had known about the Changeling’s attempted invasion of Canterlot and found it remarkably merciful of the Princesses to allow this. But to be fair to them, they had increased security within Canterlot, doubled the military expenditures, and had insisted Queen Chrysalis’s own recently-established kingdom not even think about trying to take Equestrian territory, because if they DID, they would turn the queen into a toad.

I’m dead serious.

All of this still wasn’t enough for Chatter Box, who kept insisting the Changelings were disgusting bugs that were stealing jobs from normal Equestrians who deserved it. She was practically frothing at the mouth. And when I suggested, after she was passing by, that she should be less testy with her country’s leaders, she gave me the most hateful look I’ve ever seen. I thought she was going to hit me right there.

So I decided the title tail was going to wag the content dog for this chapter. And this meant having to write about Chatter Box. This meant listening to her radio show, going to her “Chatter Chats” she held in public every single week, on the dot, every Sunday morning at 11, and, of course, a subscription to her magazine.

The people outside of Canterlot aren’t unfamiliar with her. She’s got an estimated audience of 4 million. And in a country that’s comprised of 100 million ponies that really isn’t bad, especially considering that radio is a fairly new invention for them. Though I don’t know how they can listen to her talk about the “Male-o-chists” and her “men as victims” ideas. See, Chatter seems to believe that all men, all “Colts” and “Stallions” on Equestria view heterosexual sex as rape. That is indeed quite the hard belief to defend, but see, I know a lot of men, all of whom consider themselves very manly men, for the record, and only one of them actually believes that. And he’d been married to my mother for over a thousand years.

My mom would whack him when he said that. Heavens above, I miss them.

But as for how anyone can believe this “woman” (and I use the term lightly), I’ve seen her audience. When she expanded to her “Chatter Chats” this meant in-person appearances with her loyal fans, and I wasn’t too surprised at who they were. Chatter’s loyal core audience appears to be dittoheads, rabid, unflinching, straightlaced yahoos of the worst garden variety. All well dressed, I admit. But they blindly and uncritically agree with everything she says. And everything she says is deliberately presented in a deliberately misleading way, disinformation to be devoured wholesale by these dunces.

Want to know what I mean? Well, the King of Saddle Arabia had been on the official news channel of Canterlot, to be in an interview with the two Royal Diarchs. The official news channel is run by an exceptionally charming young colt and his wife, and unlike Chatter Box, Mr. High Frequency and Broad Cast are not just honest, they’re astoundingly so. When I informed them I was writing about them and wanted to sit in on their program, I was amazed at how pleasant they were and, you won’t believe this, they’re both half-changeling, with dark fur and piercing blue eyes to match. I would see High Frequency focus in on whomever he was interviewing, his thick hooves gripping the microphone tightly as he asked hard-hitting question after hard-hitting question. Broad Cast, in turn, was remarkably clever. Whenever she talked to someone, you got the unmistakable feeling she knew more about the subject than the person who was on the air. And it isn’t hard to see why. They do their homework. They study, they reach out to experts. It’s the way the news ought to be given to the people: an informed citizenry assisted by an even more informed news media.

The King of Saddle Arabia, Mishra, didn’t escape a bit of questioning in regards to how his country handles mares. I wonder if he’s sexist, since not only did he keep giving me and Broad Cast looks, but he’d not been happy to hear about Princess Celestia and Princess Luna talking to Queen Chrysalis about letting Changelings be citizens.

“Maybe I am old fashioned, but to go to your enemy, say “we’re all cool”, let them into your country after they’ve hurt it so dearly? I don’t like it. I think it’s wrong. It HURTS your country.”  To anyone listening to that, it came off as an attack on the Princess’s patriotism. That they were doing something stupid and which would only damage their country. But when Chatter Box brought the incident up, well…see, she’d taped the interview.

Can you guess what happened?

“He didn’t assail their patriotism! He didn’t insult them at all! I’m going to roll King Mishra and you tell me if he insulted them one iota!” She’d insisted before PLAYING A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PART OF THE INTERVIEW. She then crowed about how she hadn’t heard one word about the princesses being insulted and I looked around at a hundred and fifty cheering idiots in nice suits all applauding wildly.





"I am TELLING you, Rainbow Dash. The purpose of her show is to punish you for actually knowing anything. Seriously. And she won’t…stop…talking…about the so-called “liberal media”." Nee-Buh-Loh remarked as she walked into her apartment in Canterlot, the hot noonday sun practically baking anybody unlucky enough to be out on the streets. And indeed, the alien was right. Chatter Box wouldn't shut up about how awful the media was. Not even when it comes to her ties.

I’m not kidding you, dear readers. For Nee had the radio on, and was intent on listening to Ms. Chatter Box for study. "A hundred twenty four hours, and I have to tell you, it's going to be daunting, absorbing her show. But I'm a professional." Nee insisted to Dash as she gave the pegasus a bow. "I want to write about her as fairly as I can, and I'm really trying but it's so hard! If she wasn't so dishonest in how she came across."

And then Chatter Box's voice drifted out from the radio, Dash blinking stupidly as the shock jock began to whine about her ties.

Again. I'm not kidding you, dear readers.

“Lemme just give you an example of the press and how awful they truly are. It’s as good as example as any of how the left has stereotypes. You all know I’ve introduced a new type of neckwear into our fair city, commonly known as ties. We’ve got four beautiful styles, you know. Four designs out there, and we’re always working on more!”

"Evidently the “liberal media” has deliberately mischaracterized her mail-order tie collection." Dash snorted, waving a hoof in the air and sniggering. 

“I open up the “Royal Reader” newspaper and what do I see in the “Life” section? A story about my ties! And what do they say?! “Chatter Box’s ties are as conservative as she is. Red and white everywhere with grey stripes”. Can you believe this?! Dear ponies, the very last thing my ties are is conservative! That’s why we’re calling the ties “Boundless”! These are- the very last thing my ties are is conservative! There ain’t one stripe on any of these ties!” Chatter Box remarked, Dash's smirk fading, Nee frowning.

"...will she not just STOOOOOOP?" Nee wanted to know, heading for the kitchen. The alien had currently had ordered a live pig to be delivered to me via Minotaur Mail. They’re very, very skilled, minotaurs are. They designed doors, homes, hada fascinating mail system, and were highly skilled in military matters. Also incredibly omnivorous, which meant Nee-Buh-Loh would able to enjoy fresh pork. Nee rolled her eyes, trying to drown out Chatter Box's voice as she turned to the pig  tied up on the kitchen counter, stuffed with an apple in its mouth. Dash had, at first, like the rest of her friends, been uncomfortable about an alien openly eating creatures so brazenly. So Nee had promised to keep it to a minimum, and she was trying to further prepare the pig to be cooked for later in the day when Chatter kept whining even more about how awful the “left always was”.

“I can’t believe how much the left stereotypes people like me! I mean, I came up with these ties myself and I’m so offended! And I insisted there be no themes on these ties! No ties to issues, no ties to politics, they’re just going to be gorgeous, beautiful, dazzling ties that anybody is going to wanna wear! And there’s not one stripe! NOT ONE STRIPE! On any of my ties!”

The pig had been listening in on the counter as well and Nee could swear he was beginning to look sickly. Evidently the vicious liberal smear campaign against Chatter’s ties translated across all language barriers. "Uh...are you alright?" Nee nervously asked. 

“They could have called me first! Called and said “Hey, we hear you’ve got some new ties out, we’d like to see them, we’re writing a story-”

“She can’t possibly keep talking about this.” Dash insisted out loud, flopping onto the couch, putting a pillow over her face. "She just caaaaaaan't!" The pig visibly snorted out its nostrils at this and Nee gave it a look. She knew how it felt. 

“In the battle for the soul of our country, it’s becoming more and more clear that the press, which has a constitutionally protected role, can’t be trusted! If the press is so, SO wrong about an issue as simple as this, is it any wonder that there is a new media, led by me, Equestria’s truth detector? No there’s not. We’re gonna take a quick break, then come back-”

"Auuuuuhhhhhh!" 

Nee turned, blinking in surprise. The pig was visibly moaning. Not even having an apple gag stuffed into its mouth was keeping it from displaying its agony. It was banging its head against the countertop, practically screaming. “You know what? You’ve suffered enough for today.” The alien decided, and released it outside. It made off down the street and barreled into a vegetable cart as Nee closed the door on a cry of “My cabbages” and sat down on the couch next to Rainbow Dash.

"...so remind me...how many hours of this bucking crap do you gotta stomach again?" Dash moaned.

"Hence why I need help." Nee admitted. "In fact...how would you like to be a direct part of the next chapter? I'll let you do most of the writing and everything."

"Oh? Really?" Dash immediately sat up, beaming broadly. "Hey, then I got a great idea for what we can do." 



OUR “INTERVIEW” WITH CHATTER BOX



My name’s Rainbow Dash. You might have heard of me. And you might have heard of my friends.

It’s a lot of work going from place to place, helping Equestria out. But ever since Twilight became a princess, we’ve had really great times together we never could have expected. And we met some really amazing people. Especially Nee.

It was kinda weird to meet with her the first time. She looked like a nine-foot-tall slice of the stars formed into some kind of living being. A horned head with two large horns on the side and cute little stumps on her forehead, pink eyes, a large necklace and wristbands made up of faintly bluish/white jewels, and she didn’t have a nose. Or ears! I asked her how she could smell or hear. She said it was something about natural receptors being hidden in her body, and then asked me to please stop rubbing the space above her mouth.

I almost didn’t want to. See, I found out that doing it generates static, cuz her skin’s so nice and soft, and when I put an arm around Pinkie Pie and proudly told Nee-Buh-Loh we would love to help her write about the folks in Equestria there was a KRRZAP and all of Pinkie’s hair stood on end. So I rubbed Nee’s arm and tested it out again. Yep!

Pinkie seems to like it though. And she got me back with a water balloon full of invisible ink that didn’t pop up until the next day. Boy was that reaaaaal embarrassing.

At any rate, Nee and I got something in common. We can’t stand that horrible “Chatter Box”. She’s no R.K. Yearling, that’s for sure! All she does is be snarky and mean and take stuff other people say and twist it around to make them sound bad. I learned this the hard way because I’d gotten her newsletter. Everyone in town had been talking about her and I wanted to see if she was really cool.

Then I saw the headline of the biggest article in it underneath her sneering mug. “My “Conversation” with Princess Cadence”.

I was confused since I’m pretty darn sure she didn’t ever go to the Crystal Empire. See, that would require actually getting out of Canterlot and she looks waaaaaay too lazy to do that. Then I saw a little bit of text at the bottom of the article that read “All of the Princess’s words are taken verbatim from transcripts of her speeches, press conferences and comments on the public record. Chatter’s comments have been added to create this simulated “interview”.”

See, this bit of crap lets her write stuff like this:

Cadence: There is this undercurrent of discontent.

Chatter: Wait a minute. Define “discontent”.

Cadence: This sense that economic growth and prosperity, political freedom and rights, they’re not enough.

Chatter: Oh, I get what you’re saying. The conclusion most of us arrive at when we’re 18 that there’s more to life than money and politics.

Cadence: That we lack at some core level meaning in our individual lives, and meaning collectively.

Chatter: Hey, if you’ve got an issue…use a tissue.

She is just.

Plain.

Mean.

But then I got an idea. A really good one. Two can play at this game. So I told Nee “Hey! Why don’t we take her idea, steal it, and use it against HER?” Nee thought the idea was, and I’m quoting her, “Wicked pissah”. So here we go! Our “conversation” with Ms. Chatter Box, and boy did she have a lot to say!

Rainbow Dash: First thing’s first. Biiiiig thanks for letting us interview you. We know you don’t like others interviewing you much.

Chatter Box: I’ve had 230 stories in which I was mentioned in the past two years. And I’ve only ever given five interviews! (Ponyville Confidential, Spring Celebration Interview.)

Nee-Buh-Loh: And big kudos, Ms. Box. What an exceptionally clever interview method. Such clever literary conceit!

Rainbow Dash: Yeah, it’s really clever. It reminds me of this thing Pinkie Pie likes to do where she disk-jockeys parties. Somebody will ask a question of her like “So what was Celestia wearing to the Gala” and she’ll play that song, you know, “She wore an itsty-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow-polka-dot bikini”.”

Chatter Box: Oh, I completely understand. I’m a smart woman, you know. (“How To Take Our Country Back”, Page 135.)

Nee-Buh-Loh: I see you’re wearing one of your special “Boundless” ties. Y’know, they really are very conservative, to be honest.

Chatter Box: The very last thing my ties are is conservative! (Her Radio Show, The Chat Room, From Yesterday.)

Nee-Buh-Loh: But those stripes look preeeeetty conservative.

Chatter Box: there’s not one stripe! NOT ONE STRIPE! On any of my ties! (Her Radio Show, The Chat Room, From Yesterday.)

Rainbow Dash: Right, let’s just focus on something more important. Like how FAT you are. I mean, by Celestia’s Big Fat White Butt, you’ve gotta weigh close to eight hundred pounds!

Chatter Box: Not yet true, but sadly, it’s inevitable.  (Royal Reader Report on “Chatter Chat” Speech conducted on Changeling Immigration on the Summer Solstice)

Nee-Buh-Loh: Then how much do you weigh, if you don’t mind us inquiring?

Chatter Box: Almost eight hundred. Can you believe it? (Ibid.)

Rainbow Dash: Okay, let’s move off how fat you are, cuz we got a lot to talk about. You once said on your radio show-

Chatter Box: Have you ever noticed that all the newspaper composite shots of thieves always look like Earth Ponies? You’d never catch a unicorn doing such things. (The Chat Room, Three Weeks Ago.)

Rainbow Dash: You did not. Just. Say that.

Chatter Box: Let’s talk about those disgusting Changelings! (Royal Reader Report on “Chatter Chat” Speech conducted on Changeling Immigration on the Summer Solstice)

Rainbow Dash: Oh no you don’t! Ohhhh no you don’t! This is our interview, you got it? And we wanna talk about something serious. You always say the worst part of the Changelings is they take, and take, and give nothing back.

Chatter Box: The Changelings are the biggest pigs at the Mother Pig and her nipples. They’re always taking and taking and giving nothing back. They keep getting our money in welfare and I’m sick of having to play the stupid, phony game of compassion for these poor, unfortunate souls, because I DON’T have compassion! (Ibid.)

Nee-Buh-Loh: I suppose it would be easy to be overcome with “compassion fatigue” if you weigh nearly half a ton. And yet you admitted you collected unemployment insurance on your radio show, the Chat Room.

Chatter Box: Well, you see, I was without income back when I was married ten years ago, and my husband made me go and file for unemployment. It was the most gut-wrenching thing I’d ever done in my entire life. (The Chat Room, New Years Program)

Rainbow Dash: I’m sorry, you? Ms. “People are always taking from the government”…took money from the government? You always whine about Changelings getting welfare they don’t deserve, yet you were on the dole?!

Chatter Box: I had a bunch of expenses I simply couldn’t meet. It was at a time of the month when the rent came. (The Chat Room, New Years Program)

Nee-Buh-Loh: You’ve got to be one of the biggest hypocrites I’ve ever seen! You’re always saying that Changelings are pigs supping on the Mother Pig and her nipples when you yourself were a loathsome piglet! Or rather, a PIG, since you’re so incredibly fat.

Chatter Box: I had a problem getting bits. Grocery stores at the time didn’t have a credit program you could enter into. So I was forced into snack stores, they did actually have credit programs unlike restaurants and groceries and markets. I guess they were ahead of the curve. (The Chat Room, New Years Program)

Rainbow Dash: No wonder you’re so fat! Can you give us more of your pathetic sob story, you big fat hypocrite? With extra emphasis on “fat”?

Chatter Box: I was able to afford shelter with what little I had, but I couldn’t afford the upkeep. If it wasn’t for the fact my husband was good with his hooves, I would have had no walls at all. Let alone a roof. So he had to do most of the repairs. (The Chat Room, New Years Program)

Rainbow Dash: So you were unemployed, eating cupcakes and too lazy to fix your own house. Wow, could this get any more sad?

Chatter Box: The refrigerator broke down and I couldn’t get it fixed. So I had to sell the whole apartment and I still lost money in the process because by the time I did it, it had turned into a ramshackle old shack.

Nee-Buh-Loh: My, my, my. How fascinating. But I must say, Ms. Box, I still don’t quite comprehend why you collected unemployment instead of working. I mean, there had to have been SOME work available for an able-bodied mare with three hundred pounds on the hoof.

Rainbow Dash: Yeah, maybe as ballast on a ship travelling down a jungle river!

Chatter Box: M husband made me go and file for unemployment. (The Chat Room, New Years Program)

Nee-Buh-Loh: Wow, you’re quite the sad person, aren’t you? But before we end this interview, tell me, is there anything you’d like to say to our good readers about the state of Equestria?

Chatter Box: I tell you, friends. We are in bad shape in this country when you can’t look at a nice ass and notice it. ((The Chat Room, Three Weeks Ago.)



TASTE TEST




"Chatter Box is simply horrible." Nee remarked as she sat behind the type writer, turning back to Twilight Sparkle, everyone else reading copies of the latest chapter over.  They were positively enraptured by the tale, eagerly scanning the pages. Well...most of them. Trust me, dear reader, you'll come to understand.

"Well unfortunately, she’s getting more and more popular. I am becoming increasingly concerned that she will end up actually encouraging violence against Changeling immigrants inside of Equestria. It’s only a matter of time before she starts screaming for people to take a bat to the knees of every Changeling within ten feet of them." Twilight Sparkle sighed as she hung her head and shook it back and forth. "And I don’t exactly “like” Changelings. I’m not wild about them."

"Me neither. They’re too crunchy and dry." Nee was about to say before catching herself. "I mean, me neither." 

"You were gonna call them crunchy and dry, weren't you?" Twilight asked with an accusatory look as Pinkie Pie poked Nee in the chest in an accusatory fashion. Okay, actually, not too accusatory so much as "inquisitive". 

"Don’t give me that look, alright? I told you guys a thousand times, my species eats people. Preferably, whole and alive. They taste better that way, and Changelings don’t taste very good. Ponies, on the other hand, that’s a different story. My species can't help it." Nee sighed. 

Indeed, she remembered the first time she'd eaten pony flesh. She had managed to pluck a farm hand from the wheat fields out near Canterlot. The sun had been hot and heavy that day and he was buck tired, so he laid under a tree as Nee snuck up on him from the forest to the east. Taking caution not to wake him, she carefully dragged his still-slumbering form into the woods where she could enjoy my meal in peace, and began eating him.

It takes incredible care not to wake up sleeping prey. First thing’s first, she swallowed with her tongue. A predatory basic. You never, ever, let sleeping prey brush up against your teeth. Especially not if you were a Cosmo Sapien. Her race had especially sharp fangs, and it’s not pleasant to get chewed no matter who you are. Once half his body was in her mouth, she let  gravity do most of the work for her as he naturally slide in. As for the taste?  Well, it was very,  surprisingly, flavorful. "Wow. You've kinda got an almost fruity hint to you, and you ponies are exceptionally juicy." Nee had thought out loud, patting her belly. Ponies had rather thick hips, a very delectable part of the body to enjoy, and most helpful of all, no claws or large horns or the like to get in the way. Not even unicorns had horns that were too big to safely swallow for a being like her. For Pegasi, it would require a bit more work to get their wings in, so Nee made a mental note to keep the wings close to their main bodies. Luckily, wing meat is very tender and crispy in just the right ways.

Naturally, that was when farm hand woke up in my stomach and started squirming around. Unfortunately he wasn’t getting out.

"GAAH! What the?! Where am I?! Why can't I see anything! HELP! Somebody!"

"Ohhhh." Nee sighed sadly. She honestly did feel bad about how frightened he was, so she tried talking to him whilst he laid in her stomach. "Please, try to relax. Talk to me. What's your name?"

Unfortunately it took about an hour of screaming and sobbing and crying, but finally he calmed down enough to tell his name, Harvest Moon.

"So, Harvest...you an only child?" Nee asked, leaning back against the tree she was lying against. "Or any brothers or sisters?"

"Two brothers. I always wondered what it would be like to have a sister though." Harvest softly mumbled.

"My brother said it was both the most wonderful and stressful thing he ever had in his life." Nee admitted. "Mostly because I'd draw on his face when he was asleep. Then he figured out how to naturally get his body to absorb the ink and he turned it on me. It took me a year of waking up to see dicks on my face before I figured it out myself."

Harvest laughed at this. That was funny! "Yeah, that sounds like the stuff my brother Grit would do." He admitted. "We've been working the lands for a while and we love playing jokes like that on each other. But I'm surprised you're asking. I mean..." He trailed off. "I thought someone like you wouldn't care."

"Truth be told, I have to care. I have to, because whilst it might not mean much to me, I know it means everything to my prey." Nee said, her voice sad and thoughtful. "Just because I’m eating someone alive it doesn’t mean I have to be a BITCH about it! Being kind will cost you nothing, and it will be priceless to those you’re consuming." Nee remarked. "So...tell me. What's it like being a farmer?"

Nee remembered Harvest Moon well. They'd talked for two hours and he actually came off like a very nice guy. She apologized to him for what she had to do, but promised him it wasn’t going to hurt, and it would be like falling asleep in a warm bath. He was still sniffling a bit at the very end but he knew he wasn’t getting out, and all he could do was hope she was truthful in what she said. She was, though. He didn’t feel a thing, just like the alien huntress promised, and the meal he provided for her kept me fed for several weeks.

"Sometimes I wish my species had been more like yours, Twilight." Nee admitted as she walked over to a nearby bookshelf, taking out a large encyclopedia and turning to a page that showed off the founding of Equestria. "Ponies are very gentle, unsurprisingly. Your entire society is founded on harmony, but only after years and years of overcoming racial strife between Earth Ponies, Pegasus Ponies and Unicorns. And it produced a culture focused upon compassion, friendship, the power of magic and fairness between the races."

"Indeed, our people  place a heavy emphasis on diplomacy with other races, but we're nopony’s fools. The Princesses have created a near-utopian society which, due to not having to worry about a large amount of crime or foreign invasion, we can move forward technologically at a nice pace, and we went from simple huts and shacks to elaborate castles, trains and electrical equipment within the span of a mere thousand years. From caveman to near-perfect “modern” technology." Twilight beamed a bit and blushed slightly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Not bad, all things considered."

"So tell me, these "Wonderbolts" are technically army reservists? Or are they calvary?"

"Well, sort of both. But it's not surprising. A large chunk of our army is comprised heavily of Pegasus." Twilight admitted with a slight shrug as she pointed with a hoof at a picture of the very first Wonderbolt, complete with skintight attire. "We always need skilled maneuverers through the skies of Equestria with kicks that can break your neck when delivered at Mach 2, and it helps that we have an immense amount of Unicorns acting as magical backups!"

"Our species mastery of magic centers primarily around manipulating the energy that a soul gives off, whilst you Equestrians seem to draw power from the world around you." Nee-Buh-Loh remarked. "Well, that and those “The Elements of Harmony”. And I have to say,  with spells ranging from teleportation to lightning bolts to transformation, they are impressive. Not that I can forget you Earth ponies can show immense physical strength, you're capable of ripping up trees and houses if you put your minds to it, and you’re the most durable out of all the ponies!" She told Pinkie Pie, who was...still poking her chest.

"...Pinkie, might wanna give that a rest." Twilight suggested. 

Yet despite the fact that they were lead by two near-godly figures who have magical power up the ASS, the Ponies interested Nee for another reason: none were really interested in taking over the world. They just wanted people to get along with each other. They had a surprising pacifistic streak.

The Gryphons were a different story. Far more aggressive and not above eating other species alive or dead. And when Nee had visited their homeland, her predatory ways actually worked well. They were incredibly impressed with the alien, and she became  something of a patron after I showed them what I could do. But ponies were still understandably freaked out by Nee, and she understood. She wasn't really like them. It’s not even the fact she eat meat, some ponies do, in fact, do that. It’s the fact she swallowed people alive to stave off entropy. Her being a living galaxy was the unnerving thing.

And sometimes it bothered her when they stared and poked and prodded her like some kind of thing under a microscope. They ought to be grateful, truthfully. They had no idea how large she truly was! It required an immense amount of tantric energy to shrink her body to this size. Cosmo Sapiens limited themselves to better interact with prey and give themselves a kind of handicap. It added to the challenge and the thrill. If Nee showed off her true height, she'd crush this plant between my chests.

Which reminds me, dear readers...there's something you must know. 




PONIES DO NOT UNDERSTAND BREASTS. 

To all you ponies reading this. Please. Stop. STARING. At my breasts.

I know you’re not used to seeing them. I know they’re odd to you.

Please stop staring!

I first discovered how odd my breasts were to ponies when I saw Rainbow Dash staring at them. She nervously blushed, glancing away, her heartbeat slightly picking up as I stepped closer. I asked her why she was looking at me and she admitted her species didn’t really have such a thing like I had on their chest. In fact, I don’t know of too many species that do. Maybe the minotaurs but that’s it, and Dash hasn’t seen many minotaurs.

So she asked if she could touch them. I sighed, slightly annoyed, but agreed. She was, after all, helping me write this. Her hoof rubbed against my left breast, enjoying the feel of it as it slightly bounced about. “It kinda feels like somebody took one of Rarity’s hand-woven bags and filled it up with water.” She admitted. “Like a fancy water balloon.” She was still blushing, playing with how bouncy it was, how soft it felt against her own fur. Pony fur’s pretty soft too, like a cuddly teddy bear texture that makes you want to hug them. If you get a chance, hug a pony. Most won’t mind. I think they secretly like it.

But needless to say, Rainbow Dash wasn’t the only one who kept noticing my breasts. Pinkie kept poking them. Twilight wanted to analyze them under a microscope. And everyone in town would keep tossing glances right at them. I know they’re pretty big by your species standards. But it’s very aggravating. A woman isn’t just defined by her body. She just isn’t.

The day after finishing up that first chapter that talked about Chatter Box, I finally had enough and told them that if they touched my chest again, I was gonna stuff 'em inside my breasts and see how they liked being trapped for a day. Pinkie decided to take this as a challenge, and began to drum on them like she was playing the bongos.

Well, that did it.  

In case you’re wondering, yes. She’s currently still in there and WOW is she heavy! She needs to lay off the cupcakes. I’ll let her out by tomorrow, but as of this writing, she’s still stuck in there and has taken to annoying me by singing “I Know A Song That Gets On Everypony’s Nerves”.

Though, to be fair, I wasn’t completely annoyed by Rainbow Dash’s behavior. It’s kinda cute that she’s somewhat attracted to me. It’s her Lesbian streak, I think. You should see her with Gilda. They’re so cute together! You know, I really should talk about Gryphons in the next chapter. There's so much fascinating history to discuss!
> The Griffons of Equestria, Part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So what do you think? Good, isn't it?"

Nee sat down in a nearby chair by Gilda the Griffon as she munched on a meaty-looking leg, nibbling slightly before actually tearing into the flesh more thouroughly. She chewed it slightly, tilting her head slightly to the side before nodding in delight and agreement. 

"Yeah! Real nice. Not too fatty." 

"Wait until you try a wing."

"Are you comparing the taste of ponies?!" Dash demanded to know as she waltzed into the main hall, frowning darkly, giving the two a dark look. "That better not be anyone I know!" 

"No, not, it's actually. It's Manticore." Nee wagged a clawed digit in the air as Rainbow Dash sat down in a nearby chair, Nee sitting back down by the typewriter as Gilda waved the manticore leg in the air at Dash. 

"You wanna try?" The griffon asked, golden/amber eyes glistening mischievously. 

Rainbow Dash gaped slightly, mouth hanging open so wide you could have fit a watermelon into it. "What? No! I'm a total herbivore! I don't know any pony who'd eat Manticore!" 

"You love the Insane Colt Posse." Gilda remarked accusingly, pointing with her free hand at her friend, mouth half full of Manticore meat. The day was young, and Nee had all of it to ask Gilda questions about the Gryphon or Griffon race. The sun cast soft rays through the window outside, filtering in gently as tiny dust motes flittered about through the air like little sprites.  And Dash blushed at the accusation, turning slightly away. 

"Geez...I like them a lot, but...I'm not THAT big a fan!"

FULL DISCLOSURE: The Insane Colt Posse is a horror core, shock rap group that is has a strong underground following, especially among Pegasus and Griffons. They're not really a "band", they don't play instruments, but they DO dump "Colt Cola" on their heads, paint their faces like psychotic clowns and talk frequently about cutting people's heads off, eating eyeballs, stabbing you with the blunt end of a broomstick, and other such wholesome topics. I've actually spoken with them and they aren't insane in the slightest...


"I don't know. I heard they boil people in oil." Nee admitted as she looked up from her typewriter, cringing slightly. "I mean, that's just mean."

"Now, now, hold on. Let me check their biography." Rainbow Dash said, quickly trotting off, returning a few hurried moments later, Gilda giving her a knowing look as Nee blinked in surprise.

"That took ten seconds. Do you have an Insane Colt book in every single room in the castle?"

"...maybe." Rainbow Dash admitted with a nervous gulp before looking through the book. "I can stop anytime I-HA! Nothing in here in their index about oil one bit! I mean really? Boiling them in oil? C'moonnnn." She said, shaking her head back and forth.

Nee sighed. But she was unwilling to cede her point. "The Insane Colt Posse come up with some fascinating, if not disturbing, topics for songs. But they're not model artists. They're not even model omnivores. Maybe they..." Nee scratched her head. "Boil people in some sort of bouillon." 

Rainbow Dash checked through the index again, blinking slightly, mouth briefly hanging open before closing, flipping to another page. 

"Oh! Yep. They boil people." 

Indeed, the Insane Clown Posse actually spent 10 thousand bits on their latest concert. I should point out that not all of that went to whatever they did backstage. No, 2 thousand went to Colt Cola to give to the audience, and they just love spraying it out over their fans, the rest for set up for the stage including a fascinating fake burning pony skull they emerged from, and smoke machines. Everyone loves smoke machines. In fact, only one thousand two hundred bits went to "Personal Items". In other words, bigger, better, pony-boiling pots. 

"You know, you like Catty Perry, Gilda. I don't complain about her." Rainbow Dash wisecracked, rolling her eyes. 

"CATTY PERRY? Really?!" Nee asked, laughing uproariously, slapping her knee. "I mean, have you heard her latest song? Nobody wanted to hear about her birthday suit and "big balloons"!" 

Gilda gave Dash and Nee a look, arms folding across her chest. "You're a fan of Pitbull the Diamond Dog and his songs are almost entirely based around the idea of "Party Party Party and Drink Drink Drink"!" She snorted. 

"Got me there, Gilda." Rainbow Dash admitted as she blushed a bit. "But seriously, I'm...it's real good to hear how well you've been doing since I saw you. And it's real nice to have you here."

"Yeah, well..." Gilda blushed herself, the two now sitting quite close to each other. "What're friends for, huh?"

And with that, the two leaned in. "Yeah." Dash admitted. "What're friends for."

"Yeah." Gilda said, her tone now husky, their mouths inches from each other.

"Yeaaaah..." Dash whispered. Closer...closer...

And then, just half an inch from Gilda's beak, Dash pulled back. "D'awww, I can't do it right in front of people!"

"YES! I'm STILL the Queen of "Gay Chicken"! In more ways than one!" Gilda triumphantly proclaimed,  Nee giving her a chuckle at this as Dash nervously rubbed the back of her neck. 

"Okay "Lovebird". Could you tell me about the Three Clans?" Nee asked, Gilda giving Nee a nod. "I want to know everything you can tell me."




THE POWER OF THREE

Griffons don't taste like manticore, though. They really do taste like chicken. But it isn't just me saying that, but the Griffons themselves who say that.

You see, there are three gigantic clans of Griffons. The Northern Griffons who call Griffonstone, the Eastern Griffons who call the Dark Forest home, and the Western Griffons of FeatherFire. Precisely 4287 years ago, there was an enormous civil war that made the Griffon race split into those three factions, and it stemmed from a lack of food. You see the Griffons had originally ALL lived in the North, in the mighty city of Clawdor. But though its stadiums were large enough to fit a thousand people easily, though its towers could reach up into the clouds themselves, though their aqueducts were well constructed and the streets were supposedly paved with gold itself...with so many people living so close together this meant disease could spread swiftly. And a particular disease hit the Griffon race hard. It was called the "Cannibal Curse", and it turned the Griffons cannibalistic for decades. They waged war with each other, reducing Clawdor into wreckage, and according to the history boos, "Untold Millions" lost their lives. The most conservative estimate is that 4 million Griffons died, and the only reason the horror stopped was because after so many years of enduring the disease, the Griffon race built up an immunity to it, and the younger generations wisely decided to simply split, leaving Clawdor behind as the older generations perished in madness and death. 

Three groups of Griffon refugees, all seeking new homes, found them in the most unlikeliest of places. To those who looked to the North, they found large, untapped gold mines and began to dig into them, building up a new society bit by bit. But they had issues of trust and selfishness to work past, for a Griffon's heart is just as greedy as a dragon's. They were able to work past it by rallying around  a symbol of pride,  and I can respect this. 

I know many races find pride to be something...wrong. Something sinful. But let me explain. Pride in being praised isn't a bad thing. Pride in your abilities isn't a bad thing. Being satisfied with what you are and wanting to feel unique and special is not sinful. The issue comes from going "I've done well, all is well" to "Gee, what an amazing person I am to do that". When your head starts going up your ass...that's when you go too far. 

My own race suffered far too much of that. We thought ourselves morally superior by virtue of our very existence as living galaxies, and that in limiting ourselves to be on a fairer playing field with our prey, we were being noble and just and magnanimous. To an extent, it is. But we weren't doing that to be fair, we were doing it because it satisfied ourselves. And you can't act like that. It's just plain dickish. 

And in rallying around pride, around the Idol of Boreas, the Griffons could work for others, not just individually for themselves. Pride created unity. For that, I would take my hat off to them...if I wore a hat. But I don't. They feel weird on me. 

The Western Griffons are different. They found gold in the mountains to the far west, but they also found dragons. And the dragons didn't like sharing their jewel and gold deposits one iota. A horrific and bloody guerrilla conflict began to play out as the Griffons struck out at Dragonkin in concentrated attacks, hiding back into the vast expanses of the Western Mountains before the dragons could strike back, whilst the dragons engaged in as much scorched earth campaigns as they could manage against any Griffon encampments they found. It was simply horrifying. 

But then a Griffon did the unthinkable. The Griffon Apsu became attracted to the dragoness Tiamat, Tiamat attracted to his sheer bravery when he faced her head on in a fight outside her home, actually thinking he could sneak in and steal her precious diamond necklace from off her dresser. They had children together, giving birth to dragons with more feathery, almost angelic wings and griffons with tails with burning bonfires at the end which could set entire fields blazing. The two warring species were astonished by this. And truth be told, many of the Griffons were quite tired of the horrors of war, having left Clawdor to get AWAY from all that, with the dragons growing tired of the constant assaults on their homes. They made peace and set up what became the draconic capital Hearthstone. There's not too many Griffons there, many of them travel outside the city, but Apsu and Tiamat became famous.

Regrettably, they also became infamous. Because Apsu wanted to kill his son and daughter to ensure that he could remain on the throne. Tiamat didn't want to, she still cared for her children. Unfortunately his son Ea decided to act first and killed Apsu in his sleep...and Tiamat awoke to see him and his own son Marduk dragging the body away. 

Tiamat supposedly went insane upon seeing that and tried to slaughter them both, Marduk giving her a heavy blow that sent her tumbling down a chasm, never to return. But at night when a blood moon rises, you can faintly hear her horrific, twisted, sobbing laughter as if she's still down there...unable to die. 

MORE FULL DISCLOSURE: I actually decided I wanted to go visit Tiamat's Chasm and see if this is true. I'll report my findings in a later chapter. I think there is some real truth to what they're saying, but as long-lived as dragons can be, I doubt Tiamat is still alive.

The Griffons in the Deep Forest to the East, however, they're the most mysterious, and have a more odder history. They escaped to the East Forest, but were the least prepared out of all three groups. They entered the Deep Forest and instead of finding shelter, found they were quickly running out of supplies. More terrifyingly, they were deep in the territory of the sinister Ophidians. The Ophidians are serpentine people, with the chests and arms and hands of a humanoid like myself, yet with the heads and lower bodies of a serpent. They craft armor out of powerful metals hand-dug from deep caverns beneath the forest path, and it's said that the very last thing you see before you hear their hissing cry and feel their fangs sink into you is their piercing eyes that gaze out from the dark depths of the darkest forest in Equestria. They easily captured the Griffons, and the Griffons were certain they were going to be killed and eaten. Luckily the Ophidians are surprisingly diplomatic. Indeed, they've got quite a lot in common with my own species! 

We might be monsters in many ways, but we're not inconsiderate. When they saw how clearly starved and lost and helpless the Griffons were, the Ophidians felt pity well in them. They agreed to let the Griffons stay there in exchange for goods. Indeed, the snake men believe quite heartily in fair trades. Besides selling what precious gems and gold they had on, the Griffons offered their bodies up to the Ophidians. 

And so once again, all their problems went away by making love, not war. And the end result were Griffons with snakes for tails. These unique Griffons can be unsettling...it's odd to be talking to an Eastern Gryphon and to have their tail watching you from the side, looking you over, sometimes lowering its head, wanting you to pet it or scratch it. But Fluttershy has said "It's adorable". 

I could, and probably will, do a chapter on the Ophidians. They are a race of mystery. They're hardly ever seen outside of the Deep Forest and are said to be surprisingly polite and friendly for giant snake people. Gilda says her father actually got the money to send her to Junior Speedsters Camp in Cloudvale by entering into a deal with an Ophidian. 

She says he had to sell her brother. 

...I'm PRETTY sure she's kidding. 

...pretty sure. 





GILDA TALKS ABOUT GOD

Every single race in Equestria's got their own beliefs of some kind. Ponies worship at the altar of the Elements, the Dragons have ancestor worship, the Changelings worship entities that stand for emotion, and we Griffons have a God of our own. He's called the Cornerstone, and he's the axis around which the whole universe circles. His wings are the rainbow, his embrace is as warm as the sun, his eyes are stars, and his skin is softer than the fluffiest downy feathers. 

There's a variety of teachings our race has about it. And if you cut out all the passages in the Clawdor Codex (one of the only things that survived Clawdor falling to pieces) about the Cornerstone talking about the poor, about helping out the least among us, you'd probably have the perfect container to smuggle Spitfire's drugs into Wonderbolt Academy. 

What? I'm telling you, she's doping. I'm dead certain of it. 

My views about the Cornerstone come pretty much from my Dad. He died six years ago of lung disease. Which brings me to a funny story.

See, Dad was at home and he wasn't gonna last long. He wanted all his family there with him when he passed, and we all were happy to rush home to Griffonstone and stay with him as closely as we could, not wanting to leave his side once. It was then that Pastor Black Wing stopped by. He'd heard about our father dying and wanted to try and offer comfort. I wasn't too sure of this. I didn't want Dad to talk about his death with anybody. Mom didn't want him to talk about his death. But it was hard to say "no" to a priest who was so honestly and sincerely trying to be there for a man on his deathbed, so we said "yes". I checked in with dad, and he was now a 80 pound wreck of a Griffon, lying weakly in his bed, turning to look at me when I asked if Pastor Black Wing could step in.

"Well if he thinks it'll do him some good!" 

Heh. My dad. Quite the wit. Black Wing spent the next half hour with my father before he left, bidding us farewell. Dad passed away three days later, and Pastor Black Wing presided over the memorial. After it was over, I asked him what Dad had said to him. 

"Oh, he tried to make ME feel comfortable." 

That was my Dad. 

Dad's belief in the Cornerstone was slightly different from other Griffons. They all felt the Cornerstone sort of made the world like somebody makes a painting, and then just left it be there for others to admire as he went off to make more works. But he felt that the Cornerstone, that God, could be found in nature itself. In everyone. He felt there was something beautiful in everything all around him, and there was something behind it all. And that something was the Cornerstone. That was what was behind it all. 

It was hard for me to say goodbye to him. Because it meant he was gone. That familiar, loving, supportive figure no longer there when I needed him most. No more of his smile. No more of his hugging. No more of his wonderful cooking. No more...him. 

Yeah. Mom pretty much fell apart after he died. That didn't help things much either. And then of course there was what happened when Gregor-

...I can't talk about Gregor, it's too much. I know I should talk to him one day. Get him back home. But it's difficult. Especially with all that's gone down in Griffonstone, but I've been working on that. I'm actually making a lot of friends now. We're beginning to patch up the roads and repair the falling-apart buildings, and by the end of the year, my own house'll be fully rebuilt! 

I wonder if Dad is in Heaven, looking down at me. Giving me that smile he liked to give me? I don't know. Sometimes I doubt it.

But there's one thing I do know for sure. That he's a part of me. And he's a part of everybody that loved him.

And that? I think in that...is God.

...

...

...

...IN WHICH I PLAY FOOTBALL WITH THE HEAD OF THE ARMY AND IT IS AWESOME

There's one thing I really, REALLY love about Griffon culture. And it's their love of sports. Holy crap, they cannot get enough of sports. And one of their most beloved sports is that of Football. I think it has something to do with the fact it means they get to tackle people to the ground really hard. But they've been able to work out a lot of aggression through the game, and their bone structure, except for the wings, interestingly, is considerably more tough around the chest region than ponies. So they can take a beating, and many Griffon Football players end up going far when it comes to politics. 

In fact, Clawdius the Third, Griffon Army Head of Hearthstone, is well known for being an amazing football player. And I was determined to play football with him when I was doing research for this book. And there was a chance I could. After all, I was a large patron of their kind, having taught them how to manipulate tantric energy. 

What IS Tantric Energy? It has many names. Chi for the Mind, Ki for the Body. Kokoro. The Shining Light of the Soul. It's spiritual power, a special type of energy that sentient beings all possess. Non-sentient living beings have a faint fraction of it, but you need to have a soul, a spirit to emit tantric energy, and we Cosmo Sapiens need to feed off it to survive and staff off entropy within ourselves, to keep ourselves from dying. Living galaxies gotta eat. And in our cases, we need to eat people. 

But the good news is that once you know how to use tantric energy, you can do fantastic things with it. You can shape it to your will...craft majestic weaponry, send your foes flying, use it to reach heights you've never reached before. It's a thing of pure and utter beauty, and I'd taught it to the people of Hearthstone. Or rather, to any who so much as wounded me in a fight. Clawdius being one of them, and he'd invited me to Hearthstone while I was working on this book! 

It was then that the idea of playing football with him popped into my head...and the idea of "The Play" struck me. 

I was typing away at the very typewriter I'm using right now when the play burst into my mind. I explained it to Rainbow Dash and Gilda, the two sitting together, looking through the Insane Colt Posse autobiography, one arm draped over the other's shoulders when they heard me explain "The Play". 

"I don't think Clawdius is gonna let you play football with him." Rainbow Dash remarked with a shrug. 

"Oh, I dunno. He owes her big. And Uncle Clawdius likes to repay his debts." Gilda admitted with a smile. 

"He HAS to. Once I explain it to him, he'll love it. It's the perfect misdirection play." I insisted.

"Just don't get disappointed if it doesn't work out well. I mean, like, half the city are major football fans who practically worship the game like a religion. They might not fall for it." Rainbow Dash offered. 

"Hey, you fell for MY misdirection play during that weekend at camp!" Gilda said with a knowing smile, leaning in as Dash visibly blushed. See, her and Gilda, there was this time at Junior Speedster Camp and...well, you can guess. 

But as for Clawdius, it actually worked out really well. See, I got to go to Hearthstone to do research for my book and Clawdius was more than happy to invite me into one of his football games he held for himself, his friends, his family and his entourage of guards, press people and rabid fans. The first thing you need to know is that, up close, he really does look like a "Clawdius". His visage is kind of stuck up, his eyes piercing and face looks like chiseled stone. But his voice is really like a Bubba's. He sounds like he ought to have a gut and like talking about "Shootin' deers and drinkin' beers". And during the third down, when we were all huddled together and in desperate need of winning some points, I raised my hand.

"I've got a play." I offered. Everyone sort of stared at me in surprise as I continued. "Commander Clawdius? I wanna use you as a decoy."

A beat before he said "Okay!" 

"Just go out fifteen yards, then cut to the left." I said, everyone nodding along with him. "And everyone else, stay short or block...except you." I pointed at one of the fast, tall sons of Clawdius, a nice kid named Orestes who was pretty lanky for a Gryphon but amazingly quick on his feet. He nodded back at me as we headed to the scrimmage line, and little ol' quarterback me got in place after making this announcement:

"The Commander would like everyone to know that anybody who happens to block a pass intended for him on this play will get to spend a night in his palace." 

Commander Clawdius turned to me and asked in a stupefied fashion "What?" And that, I think, sold the play, because he then gave a shrug and nodded, turning back to face his eager foes.

And ohhhhh wow. Just...I couldn't have planned it more perfectly. After the snap, Clawdius went out fifteen and cut to the left sideline, and that was when I did it. I MADE THE PUMP FAKE.

And they all! ALL fell for it! I mean, holy shit! HOLY SHIT, it was embarrassing! 20 something people all thinking the same thing: "Golden Pillow Covers". By the time I put the ball in the air, Orestes was twenty five yards behind the defense. Clawdius hugged his son so tight I thought his lungs would collapse. I didn't get a hug, but that didn't matter. Because I'd played football with the Commander of Hearthstone's Army. And I proved Rainbow Dash wrong. 





CHATTER BOX DOES NOT UNDERSTAND HOW GOVERNMENT WORKS

I'm not an expert on government. But I'd never, ever make claims insisting I was.

Chatter Box isn't like that. And whilst I was listening to her radio show while in Hearthstone, I had the unfortunate tragedy of hearing her, once again, disrespecting her listener's intelligence. 

"With the exception of the military, name me one government program that's worked and alleviated the problem it was created to solve. Hmmmmmmm? I'm waiting!...............TIME'S UP!"

Luckily Gilda was visiting Hearthstone with me to open up some trading with Hearthstone. Her Griffon Scones were selling like hotcakes and helping to pay to repair her capital's roads, and she was rather annoyed with how flippant Chatter Box was towards this sort of thing. After all, she was trying to recreate the government from the ground up, pretty much. And trying to get everyone to work together. The idea government programs can't help you much is positively stupid. Especially since her government pulled her race out of greed and shortsightedness and rallied them around the banner of pride thanks to the Idol of Boreas. If their king, their government, hadn't MADE that thing, they'd all still be lying around on piles of gold, snapping at anybody that got too close.

So she decided to help me with this next part. See, Griffons are fairly conservative when it comes to their politics. Limited trade, not very interventionist when it comes to other countries, a heavy emphasis on self-reliance, belief in a strong military, and heavily religious, as I mentioned. So I asked her and various other Griffons I encountered in the city to tell me about successful government programs.

Commander Clawdius, Head of the Army of Hearthstone: The Rural Oil Act, which brought oil lighting and heat into the homes of everyone in Hearthstone. The Hearthstone Road Program, though even he admits that Celestia's Interstate Highway System is far, far better. "It's the most successful public works program in the history of the world." He insisted. "And our government has done a fantastic job of disseminating information about not drinking and playing football. We don't even allow alcohol at our football games ever since the Incident of '87. Simply amazing how long High Elder Redfang lasted without his frontal lobe..." 

Gustave Le Grand, Head Chef of Hearthstone: The city's fantastic youth summer program which has been teaching children to bake and cook for themselves. Needless to say, he was overjoyed by Gilda's arrival and was happy to hear of their own similar programs they've been setting up. He also had lovely things to say about Canterlot's Penitentaries. "We need to keep those bad guys locked up SOMEHOW!" He insisted. 

Giselle, Griffon Racer visiting from Griffonstone: "I don't know if anyone else will give them credit, but the Equestrian's Park System and conservation efforts are really inspiring."

Gilda: "The Wonderbolt Academy was set up by the Equestrian Government, and it's both a flight school AND an additional military brigade. Plus, I admit...that "egghead" was right. The library system her kind made is really well done. I've SO gotta thank Rainbow Dash for introducing me to The Daring Do books!" 

So is Chatter Box honestly that out-of-touch with conservatives like Clawdius and Gilda? Or does she just think her radio audience are a bunch of morons?

I'm waiting!...............TIME'S UP!




IN WHICH I AM DISGUSTED BY EASTERN GRIFFON POLICIES OF FORCED PROSTITUTION

There's a few policies in place in the various governments of Equestria which you wouldn't associate with their respective races. For example, did you know the Minotaurs actually don't have a jail system and will eat their criminals? Did you know that Diamond Dogs have a fantastic Pre-K school system? Did you know that the Changelings actually have developed a fantastic social covenant system to help pay for their elder's retirement? 

And did you know that the Griffons of the Deep Forest to the East have sweatshops? 

I wish I was kidding about that last part. But I'm not. You see, the Deep Forest is divided into several city states. And the City State of Blue Ecstasy is located on the farthest reach of the forest, reaching a beautiful, expansive ocean. It's a fascinating beach city renowned as a tourist destination for those who can get to it, with turquoise waters, balmy breezes, white sand beaches and fascinatingly exotic aquatic dishes to eat. The city state is run by a Congress, who craft laws and then bring them before the Regent that unites the city states. They've developed a good social safety net, everyone is given unemployment aid if they cannot find work, they have exceptional and free health care attended to them by the Ophidian White Mage Council, who's medical techniques are state-of-the-art, and the society is quite tolerant of homosexual relationships. Indeed, Gilda's often joked about going to a city-state of the Deep Forest to marry Rainbow Dash. I think she's kidding on the square, which means kidding, but also really meaning it. I mean, I've seen how close the two have gotten over the many months I've spent with them. 

But this supposed liberal paradise isn't a paradise. You see, most Eastern Griffon city states share something in common with the Ophidians: an immense emphasis on laws, regulations and fair trade. But the island of White Fang, named after its founder, is just far enough away from the edge of Blue Ecstasy to not be counted as part of the city state's laws. It won key exemptions in the areas of labor standards, and this meant that people could be shipped in to do work there on whatever the owners of White Fang wanted. The island got hold of powerful friends in Blue Ecstasy's government, and they began to fight a battle. On one hand, incredibly corrupt politicians and power brokers like Feathyrfall The Third, Absolom Jackson and Tomalin DeVay and the clothing companies that were their patrons. On the other hand, a few principled leaders in Blue Ecstasy's Congress and some members of its Labor Department. What was at stake? Thousands of powerless workers trapped in a system of horrific sweatshops, de facto slavery, and a practice most of you probably wouldn't associate with leftist politicians. 

Forced prostitution. 

I got the story from the serpentine reporter Yuan-Ti. He's an Ophidian from Blue Ecstasy who reported on what he found to Congress there, and he found the very conditions I'm going to relate to you now. Yuan-Ti had agreed to do interviews with me about Eastern Griffon culture and to send me the materials he had on them. Upon reading the first batch he sent over, I KNEW I had to speak about the horrors of White Fang island. 

Yuan-Ti found camps that were jammed full of low-cost workers brought in from lands as far as Hearthstone, all desperate and seeking jobs, sent their by "sphinxes", as they're known. The poor workers were kept in crowded, rat-infested labor barracks. The showers barely worked, the toilets didn't work, and the water made you sick. People died from this. 

A lot of them. 

It gets worse. They were locked in barracks. Locked behind barbed wire. And if you wonder "Wait a minute, why don't they just leave" or "How much are they paid" or anything like that, well...remember the sphinxes I brought up? These disgusting, lying assholes trick poor souls into signing contracts that put them deep in debt to predatory bosses and officials here in White Fang and in Blue Ecstasy. You sign it thinking you'll be getting a "good job on an island resort" and end up screwed. Literally. Because many a young Griffon who was desperate to escape Griffonstone ended up here, forced to be involuntary sex slaves for businessmen on vacation in White Fang, or servicing sailors. It was disgusting. The more I read from the testimonials of Griffons whom he interviewed, the more horrified I became.

"One time a customer actually bite me on the breast. But my boss told me the customer is always right. It was my first time to dance naked, though. And I was ashamed." 

"Kat", not her true name, signed a contract thinking she'd be a waitress. But the sphinx lied to her. She was then forced to do live sex acts on stage.

Hideously disgusting. Definitely a case where the customer wasn't right.

Why was nobody in Blue Ecstasy doing anything?

Because a certain Congressman and his friends wouldn't let them. 

Tomalin DeVay was the Majority Leader of Congress for Blue Ecstasy. And he had a strong connection to Feathyrfall The Third, the head of the sweatshops that Yuan-Ti had uncovered. That connection was in the form of the fresh-faced, Orthodox Cornerstone Worshipper Absolom Jackson. Absolom had been working with Cornerstone Church services in the Deep Forest for years before giving that up to be a lawyer. He was literally getting fat from off his many clients since he always insisted his surcharge be in pounds of meat. The guy is a legendary overeater who has a double chin so thick it could sink a ship. It was through "Absolom Jackoff" as he was so fondly named in school, that Feathyrfall The Third got to know Mr. DeVay, because Absolom had been called on to defend Feathyrfall from a sexual harassment suit. One of the female managers of the sweatshops had had no problem with the mass exploitation of fellow griffons. But then her boss tried to hit on her and began to detail a disgusting sexual fantasy. It involved getting incredibly drunk, touching her breasts and genitals with a loofah mitt and then, for some reason, a falafel. 

The bad news is that they settled the lawsuit. The good news was that hearing about Feathyrfall The Third got those in Blue Esctasy's congress interested, and that was when Marcus Aeroulius heard of the sweatshops. Yuan-Ti's interviews with him were extensive, and Aeroulius was fuming when he returned. He, a passionate believer in Cornerstone principles, believed indentured servitude and de facto slavery was a violation of the Cornerstone's tenet of Will, of the idea that people should be free to choose their destiny and not unfairly forced into servitude for others. He tried to pass a bill in the Senate of Blue Esctasy's Congress, but it was killed in the House by Tomalin DeVay. It never even got a vote. Why? Because the Majority Leader sets the schedule for the Congress. And as Tomalin said to Feathyrfall in a now-revealed letter that Yuan-Ti had gotten hold of, "I'm never going to put a bill like that on the schedule. So forget it, Feathyrfall! No chance! Those sons of bitches will HAVE to let it go." 

And lest I forget to mention it, Tomalin got a LOT of heavy packages and envelopes back from White Fang. Gee. Tomalin was probably cleaning his feathers every day with a solid gold brush and eating fine food off plates made of pearl. How much money do you think your soul is worth, you...

UGH! This guy is so...moving on! Needless to say, Aeroulius was positively furious after this. He tried to get fellow members of Congress in the House to examine the conditions there. He found one in the Ophidian Congressman Ophiuchus, who went undercover, posing as a health inspector. Ophiuchus returned "bucking livid" as Aeroulius described it to Yuan-Ti, and tried to get a bill passed in the house to have worker protections applied to White Fang. But once again, DeVay killed the bill. Denying it the right to even get on the floor. So he did the next best thing and went to the press, he, Aeroulius and Yuan-Ti reporting what they'd found. 

Naturally, DeVay denied the conditions happened. "I investigated myself and found it for what it was. Conservative yahoos at their most hypocritical, complaining so often about how oppressive government is until they seek to impose it themselves". The hypocrisy was staggering alright. But it wasn't coming from conservatives. Yes, Aeroulius was a staunch conservative congressman, but it was a liberal reporter who alerted him and his friend Ophiuchus to the conditions in White Fang. This wasn't about left or right. Liberal or conservative. This was about money trumping principle. Principles like "Don't enslave people". 





Yuan-Ti was quite a fine specimen of Ophidian. A well-built, muscular chest with sharp, powerful claws, and a well-crafted and smooth white vest covering his chest. A crystal hung from a necklace he wore, shimmering softly as Nee sat down with him and Gilda and Rainbow Dash in Blue Ecstasy's finest outdoor beach restaurant, all of them enjoying a lovely meal of fish and chips. Dash decided to try fish for once. 

"MMMMMMM. Batter baked makes everything just amazing." She moaned, mouth half-full of the finest cod as Yuan-Ti sipped from a glass of wine, dark silver eyes looking Nee over. The wind sent tiny sprinklings of sand flittering through the air like diamonds to their right as the sun reflected with a bright flash off the glass tables they were eating upon. 

"You've been reading my reports, I trust?" He asked, a faint hissing edge to his cultured words before he put the glass down and began cutting up slices of fish to eat, Nee nodding.

"Yeah. Really damn ugly." She remarked, palm trees swaying in the breeze, the lovely scenery providing a stark contrast to the disgusting  reports they were discussing. 

"Yes. Especially the forced abortions." 

Nee thought she'd misheard him because his mouth was full of batter-baked cod. "Yes, the forced prostitution. It's amazing somebody could let that sort of thing-"

"No, no. Forced ABORTION. The forced prostition was in my first report. You got my second one, right?"

All of them almost spit out their meal in disgust, Nee's fork falling to the table with a "CLANG" as she gaped. Did he really just...

"...Mr. Ti? Can I have a copy of that second report?" 

Those were the magic words. Yuan-Ti invited them to his home and showed off the second report. And this time, Nee couldn't hold back. This time she DID vomit, and was in the bathroom for a good hour and a half until she emerged, clutching her stomach and mouth. Her insides felt as though they were on fire, and she felt she'd lost half her body weight from the horrific pictures Yuan-Ti had provided. For you see, there had been another horrific insistence of the working camps of White Fang. That NONE of them could have children. At all. And this meant inducing abortions, terminating the pregnancies of any of their workers. And "Katrina" had been one of the many griffons who had allowed an inspection of her body and of the child she'd refused to give up. You see, she had had a child aborted before, but had refused to get another one after the second time she got pregnant.

HOW do the Eastern City States induce abortions? It involves "Milk of the Poppy" and careful surgery. This was definitely one aspect of their amazing medical breakthroughs Nee didn't need to know of. The photographs she saw of the act being performed during the "health inspection" had ranked up there on the short list of "things that make even ME sick". 

"...those sons of bitches." Rainbow Dash grunted as she rubbed Nee's back, she, Nee and Gilda sitting on Yuan-Ti's couch. "How can somebody who claims this sort of thing should be a right FORCE it on women?" 

"At least he was consistent when it came to the issue. On the mainland, he thinks it's okay for them to get it. On the island, he thinks it's NECESSARY for them to." Gilda wryly remarked.  "People like them don't deserve to be running our country. They should be in prison or forced to work onstage themselves, singing "Knock Three Times on the Ceiling If You Want Me" while taking it in the ass from a fat Griffon businessman." 

"Politicians. They're not all like that. But more Griffons need to know that this is the sort of thing that goes on when enough people aren't paying attention. " Yuan-Ti offered softly, handing Nee a small glass of water as she sipped slowly from it. "It's why a well-informed electorate is so meaningful to our city state. Be sure to include this story in your book, Ms. Nee-Buh-Loh. Not enough people outside Blue Ecstasy know about it." 





I promised Mr. Ti I would. And I want to warn anybody out there who might have been approached by somebody interested in selling you a contact for a "good job in the East". Because whilst White Fang is shut down, there are other White Fangs out there that people like Congressman Aeroulius and Ophiuchus  are trying to close in on. Be careful. Be vigilant. 
> In Which We Are Kidnapped by Snake People
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

We WERE going to use this chapter to talk about the dragons of Equestria. 

But ohhhh no. Oh no! Because you see, while we were travelling to Hearthstone, we got kidnapped by an Ophidian raiding party. And Twilight and Spike wanted to have a chapter talking about how utterly insane our experience was. I, dear reader, will detail every little thing we went through in order to get you to comprehend just how unusual a species the Ophidians are.

And it started out on a bright day, as the sunlight softly filtered in through a forest path. Twilight and Spike had agreed to join me for interviewing the draconic leaders of Hearthstone, and I couldn't be happier. She had a pack of supplies slung over her shoulder, Spike had a little adorable blue backpack with him, and I, being the living galaxy I was, didn't need anything.

Naturally this led to Twilight finally doing what every single person who realizes exactly what I am does: she stuck her hoof into me and watched in awe as it came out the other side. Then she stuck it in and it came out of my forehead. Then her hoof came out my stomach, then my arm, then my hand...

Eventually she stopped when it went right out my left butt cheek, making Spike start laughing so hard he couldn't stop. I chalk this up to how the Ophidians found us, because precisely four minutes later, we were all launched through the air by a sudden explosion, dropped into magical nets that throbbed with a faint humming sound. We struggled uselessly, trying to get free, but the nets were drenched in some kind of disruption magic designed to naturally hinder all inherent special abilities. I was highly impressed that a "hick" type of planet like this could have any kind of species that has developed what we now call "vortex disruption" techniques, but Twilight naturally was even more fascinated. She didn't bat an eye when the Ophidians glared at her, she just asked them how the net worked.

They were surprised by her earnestness, the largest one of them, the obvious leader, deciding "Why the hell not" as he talked with her about the net's special spellbinding and how magic spells were woven into the very cords of the rope that had us wrapped up. The only way to break free was to burn them, but making fire just magically appear wasn't an option for Twilight, so this meant I had to try and cough up some kind of lighter or matches, and after about an hour of concentration, focusing, and coughing up a few bottles of Illithid wine, pogs and, inexplicably, a falafel, the sun finally beginning to set, I succeeded.

But even then they didn't recommend I try anything. It wasn't because they'd kill us and that would mean not getting to enjoy a live meal. It was because they were on the outskirts of a bit of a warzone. You see, they and the dragons and a few other races are not on the best of terms near Hearthstone. This meant they had to keep a low profile and not let anybody see them, and the night was beginning to fall, meaning any attempt to light any matches would get the dragons to launch their special cannons from Hearthstone at us. 

"Don't be silly! They're not gonna see me strike a match!' I insisted, striking a match as I snorted and rolled my eyes.

SHUKKA-BOOOM!

The next thing I remember, everybody was covered in soot, Twilight coughing slightly as one of the Ophidians nonchalantly reached through the net and extinguished the tiny flame that was atop her hair, the ground around us scorched, though the rope net still intact. 

Luckily Twilight had a plan. She whispered for Spike to reach into her back and get out some candles she'd imported from Hearthstone, which famously burned a passionate reddish/black color. They wouldn't fire at their own matches!

SHUKKA-THROOM!

"Damn. The bucking griffons." Twilight groaned, everyone giving her a dark glare, one Ophidian having been blown into a nearby tree hollow, vainly trying to get himself unstuck on his own merit. 





The Ophidians have varying degrees of muscular structure on their upper bodies when it comes to the arms and the chests. On average, they're well built, and slightly shorter than I am, though a good two feet taller than a pony. Their heads are entirely serpentine, though some have crests similar to dragons, others having hair or feathers that reveals pony or griffon interbreeding, and all have long, powerful lower bodies ending in tails with razor-sharp claws, tape covering their hands with Ophidian lettering written on the top, deadly fangs, and armor built, as the stories all said, out of the bones and flesh of their enemies. They are, however, exceedingly polite.

“Hello!” The apparent cook who was going to prepare us  inquired, the brown-scaled, thick-armed Ophidian holding onto a cook book as it adjusted the cap atop its head. It gave us a cheery bow as we sat in the net by the immense pyramid-esque structure in the center of the Ophidian city “Good to see you fellows. Nice to meet you! I’m D'hja. I wanted to find out how you’d like to be prepared for after my friends tranquilize you.” He asked of us as he pulled open the pages of the cookbook, pointing inside. “Now, we were inclined to serve you as a roast with a hint of orange mint, but there’s always stew!” He remarked cheerily, looking back up at us.

“What a bunch of...of...ANIMALS!!!” Twilight screamed, burying her head in the ground and moaning.


“Oh, roast, then?” The cook said, shutting the book and walking off. 

"I don't suppose there's an option to NOT be eaten?" Spike asked politely, the hunter Twilight had talked to before walking back over, his eyes golden, yet oddly soft as he folded his arms over his chest.

"If you really want that, you'll have to acquire permit 138. It's a one-year pass you can apply for. Once filed out, it will be given to all Ophidian hunting parties, and your faces will be marked as "off limits" for a year." He admitted with a nod of his face-painted, silvery head as I blinked in surprise. Really? 

I suppose the rumors were true. Ophidians really are incredibly, freakishly into rules. "So, er...where might we find permit 138, Mister...?" Twilight inquired politely. 

"J'rmand. Look, I'll take you to the Permit and Documentation building we have right after I put these on you." He said, holding up several collars that hummed with disruption powers. "You'll have twenty four hours. After that, these will knock you out and I'll come collect you from within, since we're going to have to eat you. Sorry." He remarked with a shrug, reaching through the net and slipping the collars onto us, one after another as we glanced at each other. He let us loose from the net, escorting us along with a platoon of guards past the immense pyramid as Twilight took the time to examine the architecture. 

The Ophidians really enjoy pyramids and ornate building designs. They have fascinating textures and living history etched into the walls of every building, from their library to normal homes, and all made of pearly white stone. The roads were well-paved, the market had a fascinating array of brightly-colored flags lining up and down the path to mark where various types of foods were for any who was interested, and there was a wide variety of wind instrument players in the streets. The Ophidians have crafted some of the best classical music I've heard on this planet, and one of their biggest musicians, J'zee, has done excellent cooperative work with the famous Draconian musician, Justin Timberdrake. 

The Permit and Documentation building wasn't any exception. It had long, sweeping walls and large hallways with a wide variety of Ophidian history carved into it. But above all, it had so many Ophidians talking to each other. Over and over! You couldn't walk ten feet without hearing an Ophidian complaining at another one. And that was when we began to realize the problem with the place.

For you see, we started off simply. The Information Booth in the first main hall. The good news was that it wasn't hard to identify who worked in the building and who didn't: all Ophidians have bindings of tape around their hands with lettering that will often give you a clue as to where they work in, what their family name is, and in the case of official Ophidian government buildings, they have solid colors for their tape bindings. Their equivalent of police have blue, their merchants have green, their hospital workers have white, and the Permit and Documentation workers had a lovely, bright shade of scarlet. So despite there being a large amount of Ophidians slithering around the place, we could easily tell who was and wasn't a part of the staff.

But the staff was maddeningly unhelpful.

"Hi. We need Permit 138."

"I'm sorry, what? You'll have to speak up, I'm a little deaf in this side." The woman at the Information Booth asked.

"Permit 138!"

"What?"

"PERMIT 138?"

"Oh! Oh, that. You have to get Permit A-29 to acquire that first. Second floor, first door on your right, just head up the stairs." She insisted, waving a ringed hand in the air as Twilight shrugged, Spike nervously looking around. We'd had to wait in line for half an hour just to get to talk to this woman, stuck behind a very fat Ophidian with a breathing problem. How much longer would this take? 

Things didn't improve on the second floor. Because a sign on the first door to the right told us the office had been moved to the first floor, in the west wing. Then once we actually got there, we had to sneak past a leopard that was prowling around in the hall to finally get into the office, an Ophidian readying a large spear. "Damn leopards keep sneaking into the building. The turnover rate's almost as high as Canterlot's." He muttered darkly. "They're like rats, but more bitey and bigger." 

"I don't suppose you can give us Permit A-29 so we can get Permit 138?"

"You're going to have to talk to my manger on the second floor in the East Wing. Now, if you'll excuse me!" He remarked, putting on a headband around his head before rushing out into the hall, the sounds of combat filling our ears as he began whacking the leopard over the head again and again. 

His manager was even more deaf than the woman in the information booth. "The port is by the seaside, I can't sell you any fish! Did you try Cutts, the Butcher?"

"NO! We need PERMIT. ONE. THREE. EIGHT." Twilight insisted, a small twang now in her hair, her face becoming increasingly pained as Spike began to nervously twitch. It had been three hours since we'd entered the building and we were beginning to seriously lose it.

"What?"

"PERMIT ONE THREE EIGHT"!

"Oh! Oh, just go to Room 301, it's on the third floor, second door on your right!"

That woman was a bucking liar. It was the fourth door on our left. And we know this because we literally tried every single other door. All of them except for the first door on the right and the fourth door on the left was locked. And the first door on the right had an Ophidian who was evidently trying to kill a lobster. Well, I SAY he was trying to kill a lobster. I can think of no other reason why he and his two friends were painting the thing so much. It looked like an art project. The poor thing was probably suffocating.  And not even the person in the fourth door on the third floor was very helpful because she insisted we go get Permit 9-A B, and fill out Subsection 2, Paragraph 4. And guess where we'd find it? That information desk from before.

We thought we'd get some more help from the next stop, because we had two very cheerful Ophidian men who were chatting it up with each other about how awful their day was. "I'm telling you, I'm bored out of my skull working here."

"I know what you mean. It's all the same thing, over and over. Again and again."

"Yeah, just blah wallpaper, blah floors, blah paint job on the bathrooms, blah customers."

"Just hours upon hours of blah after another."

"I know, right? Just blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!"

"It says a lot about me that this is actually the first time I've ever seen this happen." I admitted to Twilight before she whistled to get their attention. Unfortunately, they then sent us to the almost utterly-deaf woman...

"I TOLD you! The port's by the seaside!"

Then to the second floor...

"I can't help you until you fill out Form 23-I, it's on the third-"

Then the first floor again, after being told about an erroneous door!

"Section 9, Paragraph 2. You DO have it with you, right?"

Then back to that bucking idiot from before who was still fighting with the fucking leopard who had now taken over his desk and wouldn't get out of the chair-

"GAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" Spike screamed, rolling on the floor, spittle flying from his mouth like a machine gun as Twilight banged her head against the nearby wall over and over, her hair an unkempt mess that looked more like a mop that had been thrown into a chipper than real hair. I was little better. I was curled up in a fetal position, rocking back and forth, biting onto my hand so hard I almost drew blood. "We're gonna be trapped here forever!" Spike shrieked. 

"We could always break a window. With my head." I whimpered. 

Twilight then stopped. And she thought about it. Really seemed to think about it. "Wait. Wait! We've been going about this the wrong way. We need to use our head and think." She whispered, her tone becoming hushed and conspiratorial as she glanced about, ushering us to come in close. "Listen, here's the plan..." 

And it was a positively brilliant one. We went to every single floor, every single room we could, and we began talking about the "Blue Form A-113 Requisition Order for Overtime Pay". Immediately everyone in the entire building began to talk about it and was on the lookout for this nonexistent order. Their shouting was practically a cacophony as Twilight, Spike and I nonchalantly headed down the steps, all of them scurrying back and forth, trying to find this nonexistent paper. Twilight then walked up to a particularly large ophidian who had golden eyes and long crests hanging down his head who was looking over several stacks of forms. "I am quite busy. What is it that you want?"

"If you don't mind...do you have Permit 138 in there?" Twilight politely asked, pointing at the stack of papers with a hoof and giving him a pleasant but slightly pleading smile. The ophidian sighed, pulling out a pink form from the pile, handing it to Twilight.

"There. Now if you don't mind, I've got to track down this Requisition Order. Our system is so very out of date. I wish there was some way to modernize how we store this information." He remarked with a sigh. "Maybe a magical data collection service?" He mused aloud as we exited the building.

I wonder when Equestria will fully invent computers and the like to do such things. Needless to say, our captor was true to his word. He let us leave and even gave us a fruit basket to show there were no hard feelings. He said he felt a little bit sad he wouldn't get to eat us, because he had a nice wine recipe he was sure would go great with my thighs. 

I asked if I could hit him. He told me that was fair. 

Suffice to say...it will be a looooong time before I'm comfortable talking to an Ophidian again. I'll bet they have to fill out five different forms just to have consensual sex. Who needs THAT many laws? I'm surprised there weren't more people in their jails. Or do they just put outsiders through this nonsense? If they did, I wouldn't be surprised. 

But a word of warning to all of you. Do not get captured by an Ophidian hunting party. And if you do, ask about Permit 138. And try to find the Ophidian on the first floor who's got the largest amount of paper forms in his office. Immediately. After all. You don't want to become an Ophidian's Dinner Special. 

The good news is that next chapter, we'll get to really talk about the dragons of Equestria. And I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised by what we uncovered. They're honestly not as bad as I thought they'd be. And not a single one of them asked to eat us. 

That didn't use to be something I had to ask, you know. "Will you try to eat us". I didn't think I'd have to keep asking that of people. Ah, the complicated life of being an alien on a strange planet!
> The Dragons of Equestria, Pt.1 (Contains Sex, Vore)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dragons. They're lean, mean, fighting machines. They'll rip and tear you asunder. They'll scorch your town to the ground. We've all heard the legends. 

But as the saying goes, there's a grain of truth in every legend. And the reason why dragons are so violent so often is because of the "root of all evil". Money. Gold. Treasure. The Shiny.

Think back, if you will, to the dreaded war with the Griffons in the Western Mountains. They were unwilling to share even the tiniest bit of gold, and this led to horrific fighting. The blood poured through the streets. And yes, dragons and griffons alike devoured each other. 

All over gold. Such a damn shame.

Then something happened that trumped money. Love. Had the Griffon Apsu not fell in love with the Dragoness Tiamat, things might be quite different now. But thanks to that love the capital of Hearthstone was made and dragon kind was able to make itself more respectable. Though when they were first starting out, other nations weren't too keen on trading with the capital, and it isn't hard to see why. I mean, they were dragons. The race had a history of cooking and eating people. Or gobbling up cattle. Or demanding virgin sacrifices, lots of gold, belching out smoke and choking towns nearby out of apathy...

So I asked High Elder Spyrokan just how in Heaven's name had they managed to charm over anybody when the nation's leaders had met at Canterlot for a trade summit. He smiled, dark green eyes glinting as he drank from his solid gold wine cup, and then told me the story. 

The air was slightly cool to the touch, everyone whispering huskily amongst each other as High Elder Apsu and High Eldress Tiamat entered the room with their guards and various treasure chests and crates. Apsu was a muscular, powerful looking black-feathered gryphon who had a faint, distinguished grey streak atop his head. His eyes were like blue sapphires as he bowed deeply before Princess Celestia and Luna. It would be quite some time before Luna would become Night Mare Moon and she was still, in her own eyes, an important part of the Pony government. She shook his paw, looking over the tattoos he'd inscribed upon his belly button with surprise.

"How intriguing. A closed circle with tiny letters...what does it say?" She asked of him. 

"Oh, it's symbolic of how Tiamat and I, much like all griffons and dragons in Hearthstone, well...came together?"

"I'll show you coming together tonight, peanut." Tiamat giggled. She was quite a lovely-looking sight herself. Rings on her horns, a lovely silver/white body with dazzling scales and a slender form. She had supple, firm breasts that captivated those that looked at them, many species weren't used to seeing breasts, let alone ones of that size, nor ones with a nipple ring. Indeed, Tiamat had quite a few rings on her, from top to bottom. She was practically wearing an entire jewelry store, but even the necklace she wore didn't shine as brightly in the room as her lovely green eyes. "But come, we've so much to talk about."

"Indeed. Every nation, our own included, is eager to learn what your species's combined efforts have wrought. How much of what we've heard of Hearthstone is true?" Celestia inquired as she tilted her head slightly to the side.

"We offer advanced fire magic for trade. Knowledge of the flame and of the magic of the sky. We've discovered a way to create runic tattoos through intense jewel craftsmanship, and have a wide variety of treasure and gold to offer all of you in exchange for goods and services. And lots of meat, naturally." Apsu remarked as he gestured at the stack of chests, various guards they'd brought with them turning their bodies around, showing off tattoos made of glistening, tiny gems that hummed with magic power.

"Well, that's...impressive to be sure." The leader of the Minotaurs, King Minos, remarked as he scratched his beard. "But I'm not so sure we want even all of that given your race's...history. I mean, you'd do raiding parties on us to make barbeque." 

"And there's the matter of what happened to our diplomats we tried to send to you for the past fifty years!" Princess Luna mumbled. 

"And then there's the matter of what you did with US." The Ophidian leader of the Deep Forest, King Hiss, growled angrily. "OHHH so many times we were mocked on how "snake tastes so much like chicken"! by prisoners we captured-"

"...we also have wyverns." Tiamat interjected. 

Everyone immediately stopped what they were muttering and growling and saying, turning as Tiamat whistled, one of the guards who'd been behind the treasure chests and hidden moving out, showing off his serpentine body. He was lean and mean, without hands, though he had a powerful set of legs, and a very powerful set of wings he held close to his deep red form, and he bowed his crested head as they looked upon him. 

"Their tongues extend ten feet and they're prehensile." 

"Well. When you put it like THAT!" Princess Celestia remarked, all of the other leaders in the room nodding at once. "Welcome to the global community!" 

If there's one thing I love about dragons, it's their sick sense of humor.  Oh. Almost forgot.

FULL DISCLOSURE: Twilight asked Princess Celestia if this was really what happened. She assured me that wyvern tongues are NINE feet long and prehensile. Then I asked if that was really the final stroke for convincing the other races to let dragons trade with them. She said "no comment", tried to stifle a laugh and failed, and then hung up. Interpret this as you will.

That's better. Can't believe I almost forgot that. But yeah. Dragons have as twisted a sense of humor as they have a passionate desire for sex. In many ways, its even more passionate than their desire for gold. But what do I mean? Well besides that story, High Elder Spyrokan also revealed more of how draconic culture worked when he gave a speech after that football game I told you about earlier. He was speaking of the recent issues with the Ophidians and the Rebel Griffons that don't much care for either snake nor dragon. And this was about three weeks after a very, very unpleasant duty he'd been forced to do.

"You know, many were worried about combat casualties in Hearthstone's Outer Rim. It's a worrying thing to think about, and we were, in many ways, handicapped by the concern over combat casualties." High Elder Spyrokan had said, bowing his head in a slightly dramatic fashion, shaking it a little. "But you'll all be happy to know that since the failed Changeling Invasion of our own city, civilians are now perfectly happy to take combat casualties anywhere in Hearthstone's borders."

The troops there laughed because they knew it was true. Normal civilians had hated fighting with griffons and ophidians. They were quite tired of war. The remnants of the bloody conflict between Griffons and Dragons still lingered even to this day. They didn't like that these rebel griffons and ophidians wanted to kill them over territory, but they were loathe to fight. Then the Changelings tried to sneak into their own city a few weeks ago, and all that changed. Now the civilians were a little less forgiving. At least for now. 

Spike was just glad that most of the kids in Hearthstone weren't like "That stupid Crackle and his friends". Indeed, many of the draconic children we met were quite happily getting along with the many Pegasi and Griffons in the capital, and Twilight wanted to know why. So I'll let her explain that aspect of their culture and just how intriguing it really is.



THE FINER POINTS OF DRAGON CULTURE

Dragons and Griffons have High Elders who reign over Hearthstone, and they had quickly put their heads together to come up with a way to ensure there weren't rampaging teenagers running through the streets. And this had to do with Greed, and how it could be tempered.

You see, there's a reason why dragons eat gems and it isn't just because they taste good to the species. Continous and careful devouring of gems and other precious metals and jewels allow dragons to grow. Their muscle mass builds up, their intelligence can increase, their skills are amplified. They get bigger and better, to put it bluntly. This is because their body breaks down the gem into a chemical unique only to dragon kind. The chemical, known as dracotropin,  travels through the blood and sets off a sort of slow burn that bit by bit becomes a full on, steady blaze. If there's too much produced at once, it triggers a very unnatural and horrific growth spurt that transforms the dragon in question into a hulking brute of a beast that can barely control himself. Spike had to go through that. It was not a pleasant experience for anyone involved. 

This is why taking in treasure should be done bit by bit. Not suddenly and all at once, with precious things heaped upon you in huge doses if you're a dragon. If done right, you'll grow steadily at a fine rate whilst keeping your mental faculties. And as such, Hearthstone instituted policies to make sure that nobody's able to do that. Everyone is registered in the city when they're born, and when a birthday comes around, they make sure the gifts are very nice, but not so nice they'd trigger a toxic cocktail of greed and dracotropin. It's better for everyone that way. 

I was surprised by this amount of careful concern and intelligence. And even more surprised at how surprisingly dedicated dragons are to proper lovemaking. I had no idea sex was such a big deal to them. I thought it would be something they'd view as...

Well, you see, there's something of a stereotype we ponies have with dragons. The idea in the back of our minds that they're not really sensitive types. That they're dumb "jocks" of a sort. Domineering and always demanding to be in charge. And if anybody got in their way, woe to them! Yet I was surprised at how they really are when they're alone.

I caught High Elder Spyrokan and Spike talking to each other in the Elder's heated underground pool beneath the palace. I had been on my way to ask him the differences between pony and dragon lovemaking for I assure you purely scientific purposes when I overheard them chatting about the very subject I was going to inquire about.

"So tonight, I finally ask her. I've got it all prepared. A beautiful dinner I roasted myself, and then I put the ring in her champagne goblet." High Elder Spyro remarked, waving his hands slightly in the air before Spike to demonstrate what we wanted.

Spike snorted a bit. "Champagne? Cham-laaaame. That's so overdone. You gotta take it a step further." 

"How?"

"Well, I've kind of always had this big thing for a pony, and if I was gonna do it, see, first? I'd get fifty candles." Spike admitted, and I could see a blush coming to his cheeks. "Spread them aaaaall over the room with rose petals. Lots of rose petals." 

"Yes, yes, and then?" High Elder Spyro asked.

"You can't forget to also replace the door."

High Elder Spyro snapped his claws. "The door-oh! Of course. Let me guess...pearls. Strings of pearls for her to push open as she slides in and sees what's before her."

Spike eagerly nodded. "Yes, because the room is beautiful, inside and out, just like SHE'S beautiful, inside and out." 

"And they'll make the room smell like a fresh meadow on a spring day after the wind's gently kissed it." 

"Spike! Spyro! How are you two?" I called out, heading down the hewn-from-natural-rock steps and into the large expanse where the pool lay, standing by the bench nearby where they'd laid down towels. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing! Guy stuff!" Spike said quickly, grinning with a nervous air as High Elder Spyrokan nodded swiftly.

"Yes! Guy stuff. You know. Bitches and hoes." 

It's cute how they try to pretend. But I managed to get the High Elder Spyro alone and he told me he was, in fact, about to actually propose to his beloved whom he'd been dating for a year now. And I asked him what it was like, if making love to a Pegasus was different to him than making love to a dragon. 

As such, I should explain how their kind "does it". Dragons, according to High Elder Spyro, get very passionate in sex. Their body heat seems to flare up and they inherently craft a kind of protective ring of fire around them when they mate to make sure they're not interrupted or hurt during the act by outside forces. Of course for non-dragons, the ring has to be considerably larger, so it means a dragon has to take extra care, including extra care not to bite or claw during sex. 

A male dragon will stimulate the female with gentle massaging of their chest, their behind. They'll give playful nips to their lover's ears or necks, and will lick their cheeks and face. Then they'll move down the chest, and will tickle their lover with their tongue before going down to a woman's most sensitive zone. They'll tease the lower lips softly with careful slurps, taking their time to stimulate their lover before beginning to truly feast between their legs. After being rewarded with multiple orgasms and the delicious juices they give, the male will then easily move his manhood into his lover's waiting pussy lips, sliding smoothly in, for the foreplay has ensured there will be little resistance nor desire to fight back, and that the entrance will be smooth. 

In and out, in and out, their rhythm builds, as firm and powerful as the beating of their heart. They'll often continue massaging their lover's chest or will keep nibbling on them slightly. If their lover is up for rougher treatment, they'll bite their neck slightly, or take their breasts into their jaws and give them a playful chew, or will claw at their back a bit. The male dragon then picks up the pace, thrusting more powerfully, letting out a mighty roar as his seed breaks free from its fleshy prison to flow into the waiting womb of his lover. Unlike the dragon's body, the seed is cool and calming, a welcome relief and release that is a pleasure for both parties to enjoy. And depending on the lover, the dragon can continue pumping seed into them for hours. High Elder Spyrokan has admitted he absolutely loves ponies. They're the next best thing after dragons, their bodies soft to the touch and ample receptacles for dragon cocks. 

A female dragon will often want to be on top, and will happily ride their male lover quite firmly, kissing him deeply, licking his neck, letting him massage her breasts, She will thrust herself up and down, up and down on his manhood, clawing at his shoulders sometimes if she's not careful, making him release into her. She will howl to the skies, a passionate roar, eagerly breeding with her lover and milking his manhood for all its worth before tucking him close to her, nuzzling up against his body. She will lick at him, wings draping over her beloved as she strokes him tenderly, the two lying in a kind of sex coma as, just like with the males, the ring of fire around them slowly vanishes. 

But then comes the part that made me a little nervous to hear about. For you see, after they've made love, a dragon's natural desire to protect his new mate will rise up. A need to keep them safe until they're ready to give birth or to keep them from being used again by a would-be interloper, for this was common in the old days before dragon kind became more civilized. To make sure their beloved couldn't be taken from them until they were safely back in their own territory, a dragon would swallow up their lover and tuck them away in their belly. Normal dragons could endure being in there for quite some time, up to a week due to their scales. But other races wouldn't last that long. As such, I asked High Elder Spyro how they handled this.

Luckily he informed me that dragons had developed an almost complete and total control over their stomach, which meant they could hold off digestion of anything in it for days. I was impressed, as was Nee-Buh-Loh. It was much like her own race and how they operated. Though I wanted to know for sure if this was really true. I mean, we were doing a close study of dragon kind for the book, and we need to let other races know if this sort of thing was true. Dispel some myths and all that. 

So I asked High Elder Spyrokan if he could assist me with this, and, well...eat me. To prove that he could hold me in his stomach without actually hurting me. But he said Spike should do it, that it would be good practice for him, something he'd have to learn sooner rather than later. After all, he was growing up. He needed to learn this skill, to learn how to control himself inside and out. Spike was rather surprised by this, but I told him that I trusted him completely, and I'd even cast a protective shield spell on myself juuuuust in case things went south. 

He then agreed to it, if he was sure this was what I wanted, and carefully took my head in his clawed hands, his mouth opening wider and wider. He pushed his maw onto me, covering the rest of my face, and gulped hard. His tongue licked at me a little before gulping even harder, my shoulders into his still widening maw, as he held my arms to the side. He continued his swallowing, reaching to my chest, my arms now incapacitated as he began to lick at my chest, murring in delight. He must have found me very delicious. He gave another gulp as I was forced down into a warm, wet, pulsating tunnel, my stomach being sucked in, then my hips. He gulped harshly, pulling even more of me in. Only my knees were outside of his mouth now, allowing Spike to just lean back and let gravity do most of the work as my calves were next to vanish into his jaws, then my ankles, then my hooves. I could hear him sigh in a satisfied fashion, feel him rubbing his now immensely distended stomach as I curled up in a large, fleshy chamber which was slightly soft and wet to the touch, massaged on all sides by walls of flesh, a slight pool of stomach juices beneath me. 

"Now then. Feel your stomach muscles. Hold back the need to clench, take deep breaths, and concentrate." I heard High Elder Spyro announce from outside of Spike as I heard him grunt and cringe before the pool drained away beneath me, and it became considerably less wet and much more pleasant inside me, Spike letting out a sigh as he sat down.

"HOO. That felt like getting a splinter out of me."

"It is challenging, but with time you'll barely need to focus at all to do it."

"You okay in there, Twilight? Please tell me you're alright?" Spike asked, patting his stomach as I gently patted back.

"I'm fine." I insisted to him with my own internal sigh of relief. Phew. It had worked out just like I'd hoped. That could have gone very, VERY badly. 

Then I felt Nee poking me from outside. "So THAT'S what I look like after I eat. No wonder Pinkie Pie likes to poke me so much."

"HUNTRESS!" I yelled out. 





HEARTHSTONE'S HEAD JOURNALIST IS A PSYCHO

You must think that title is pretty shocking. "Psycho"? What, does she eat people alive? Does she flay them? Is she a child rapist or something?

No. See, the thing is, monstrous behavior like that, at least there's a degree of honesty to the crueler dragons. They don't hide what they are. They do what they do and they don't apologize or hide behind institutional credibility. 

But the Hearthstone Herald is different. It's the biggest newspaper in the city, gets flown out even to Canterlot, and is quickly picking up circulation in other cities. It prides itself on hard-hitting journalism and being fairminded.

So why in the holy bucking SHIT is their head journalist that monster Coal?

Coal is a jet-black dragon, his eyes fiercely golden and his claws like daggers. He's well-built, clever and intelligent. He's done hundreds of pieces for the Herald and has no criminal record. But he shouldn't be a journalist. He's a lunatic. And I would know. Because he and I are friends.

I didn't know this fact until I read the Hearthstone Herald the day after we arrived. I picked up the morning edition and saw that Coal had a profile done on him since he was getting an award for his journalism efforts. And to establish himself as just a lovable guy around town, he said he was "friendly with the lovely Ms. Nee-Buh-Loh".

I found that quite odd, cuz I had only met him once before this, when we were investigating the Eastern Griffon forced prostitution scandal I'd written about before. He'd been in Blue Ecstasy visiting Yuan-Ti to compare sources on a story, and when he introduced himself to me, I made a terrible, terrible mistake. 

I was cordial. For, like, five minutes.  Instead of saying "You're horrible! I HATE you!" 

In my defense, I hadn't quite learned what I now know about him, but even then I'd thought something was seriously off with him. It was just a hunch, but my hunch paid off. You see I got the chance to read his latest book: "Libel: The Awful Lies of the Right Wing", and I knew something was wrong. His central premise was that right wing politicians and media personalities use shrill accusations and insults and the like to poison political discourse in Equestria and keep people from coming together and actually getting things done that will help us all. I admit, the political discourse is pretty bad at times. But his book was such a fascinating exercise in blatant hypocrisy, dishonesty and irony that whatever point he had was positively destroyed. 

Let me get to some examples. And I'll start not at the beginning, but the end of his book. After, say, about 34 pages of accusing right wingers of being elitist snobs who pretend others don't care about the poorest and those who have the least among us when they're the biggest takers of all, he trots out this piece of "evidence". And I use quotation marks because using anything else would be an insult to the concept of proof itself. 

"The day after seven-time ex-Wonderbolt  champion-turned country/pop music star Super Swift  died in a tragic accident at a concert, almost every newspaper in Equestria carried the story on the front  page. Swift had been one of the fastest-growing pop stars on the scene with songs such as "Sixteen", "Love Story" and "Blank Flank". Indeed, more Americans recognize  the name Super Swift than, say, Prince Mishra of Saddle Arabia, who pioneered engineering and gave us Equestria's highest skyscrapers. (Manehattan conservatives are dumbly  blinking at that last sentence, probably thinking all Saddle Arabians live in mud igloos.) But it took conservative paper the Manehattan Post two days to deem Swift's death sufficiently important to mention it on the first page. Demonstrating the right's renowned populist touch, the article began, "His death brought a silence to the Wal-Mare."  The Post went on to report that in vast  swaths of the country people enjoyed Swift's music. So tacky people were mourning Super Swift all over the South!" 

Wow. That...that is pretty powerful. Pretty insulting. Mocking the death of a beloved icon and implying all her fans are stupid country hicks? That's pretty damn disgusting. And to do that two days after he died? Not even give her death a mention one day after? That's low.

But the thing is, Super Swift died on February 19 earlier this year. And on February 20th, which, by my count, is the very next day, the Post did, in fact, air a front page account of Swift's death under the headline "Swift's Struck Onstage", detailing how a railing above the stage she'd performed at had collapsed on top of her, crushing her to death. It had been a real tragedy and the Post had not spared any of the gory details to make you understand how senseless her demise had been. 

Frankly, I think the fact they put a front page article up on the very next day after Ms. Swift died undercuts Coal's point that they did. I mean if they hadn't done it, it would have been something, huh? But they did. 

And what of that article I quoted? Well, it was indeed written two days after she died. An opinion piece by Rick Fragg, a former army colonel turned editor for the Post, from Ponymont in the East. Twilight hates Ponymont. People are always bragging about it. "Oh, Ponymont has the best this, Ponymont has the best that". Well buck you, Ponymont! The good news is that he had to resign from the Post after an uncredited team was used to research a story on dragons here in Hearthstone. He didn't pay them AND he got the story wrong. Rick Fragg. The pride, and then subsequent shame, of Ponymont. 

But let's get back to Coal. Even if you want to give Coal credit for pointing out how vicious and meanspirited right wingers can be, and believe me, I know, I've had to listen to Chatter Box, Coal's statements make me question how fair and balanced he really is. 

Statements like...

"Conservatives hate Equestria." 
"Conservatives hate all belief systems except the worship of money." 
"Right Wingers actually hate working-class people." 
"Conservatives hate society." 
"Even Changelings don't hate Equestria like Conservatives do." 
"Right Wingers ...will destroy anyone who stands in their way. All that matters to them is 
power." 
"Conservatives can't just come out and say they want to take more of your money, kill minorities, 
and discriminate on the basis of race." 
"Conservatives seek to stomp out any kind of dissent on their views on nature because they're biogts who don't understand science."
"That's the whole point of being a Conservative: to feel superior to people with less money." 
"Conservatives are crazy." 

For those unaware, the very...first...line of his book is "Political debate in this country is completely insufferable, it resembles professional wrestling more than actual debate." 

And the thing is, Coal doesn't even make a case for any liberal issue. He doesn't talk about medicine. Doesn't talk about changeling rights or taxes. Doesn't talk one iota about the economy or how to handle diplomatic relations or anything like that. The entire book is filled with distortions, factual errors, and outright HORSESHIT. 

Let me bring up one such example yet again.  This is actually about Twilight-FHLKASLJAWFLJHSDNLKAFAWLKFJ





Oh no! OH no. I'M taking this one. 

On page 12 of his book, that...that rotten FINK Coal had the nerve to say this!

"After what occurred in Canterlot with the statue, the Post's editorial page responded with  an editorial on Twilight Sparkle titled, "The Youngest, Stupidest Justice." That was actually the head-line on a lead editorial in the Newspaper of Record. Twilight is not engaged on the substance of her reign nor her real decisions. She is called a "stupid horned lawn jockey for those Canterlot elitists and their interests," a "race traitor," "snake in the grass," a "alicorn idiot,"  "pretty tropy princess to trot out and say a lot without saying anything" and "horned moron," A "Benedict Marold"  and "Traitor" for agreeing to let Changelings have property rights in Ponyville. And all this from the tireless opponents of intolerance." 

Coal...was using me as a way to attack conservatives for being meanspirited. And you want to know the worst part? The Post didn't say that! I went to the back of his book. He's always claiming "its in the footnotes". 

One, he has no footnotes. He has endnotes. Footnotes are at the bottom or "foot" of the page and are easy to check. Endnotes, notsomuch. 

Two, his "endnotes" revealed that those quotes you heard came from a Canterlot Leadership Convention and a few interviews with people on the street! 

The key is that sleight of hoof. "Newspaper of Record. Twilight is not engaged", which then leads gullible readers into the inevitable conclusion that the Manehattan Post called me a "Stupid horned lawn jockey". This should tell us a couple things about the dragon known as Coal. First, he is shamelessly dishonest. No surprise there. But more importantly, it  shows the contempt he holds for his own readers. 

I'd like to say a pony would never, ever resort to this kind of dishonest nonsense. But I've heard Chatter Box's show. Alas. I can't make that claim.

Next time, Rarity and Pinkie Pie are going to be here to talk about their fascinating trip to Labrynthia, the Homeland of the Minotaurs in the South. They're excellent craftsmen almost utterly without equal!

...if only their justice system wasn't so disturbingly harsh.  I mean, five lashes for stealing? Makes what Celestia swore to do to Chrysalis if she got out of hand seem mild by comparison. And Celestia's promised she'd turn "Chrissy" into a toad. 

Still, the tales can't be as bad as we've heard.

...can they? 
> Pegasi, Earth and Unicorn...What's the Difference? 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello, everyone. Nee-Buh-Loh here. 

Next chapter, we're going to be talking about Rarity and Applejack's help with me when we visited the Minotaur Kingdom. Needless to say, our biggest concerns were justified. Our greatest hopes from what we'd heard of their talent were justified, but so were our fears about their harsh justice system. 

But I wanted to tell you, dear reader, that you've no doubt heard phrases such as "Earth pony" and "Pegasus" and "Unicorn" being tossed about in this story and you'd like to know if there's anything beyond physical differences that these three races of Ponies demonstrate.

Truthfully, yes. There are significant differences with the ponies, and I was very, VERY lucky to have a good, balanced blend of ponies in my group of researchers to talk to about said differences. Pinkie Pie and Applejack were happy to talk about Earth ponies, Rarity and Twilight were overjoyed to hear I wanted to know about the keen talents of unicorns and even alicorns, and Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were quite interested in chatting about Pegasi.

So how did all three races meet? Well, many, many moons ago, so the legend goes, all three races were at each other's throats. They were selfishly arguing over land and resources and being petty, elitist, snobbish and cruel. But then something happened: circumstances forced all three groups together when they realized that it was only by working together could they survive. Evidently monstrous beasts known as Wendigos were threatening them and a pony from each race decided "Fighting was stupid", as Dash bluntly put it, and they came together. It started with a simple hug. A hug as warm as a hot mug of cocoa that spread a sweet, tingling, loving feeling of belonging. And according to the old texts, this act of simple trust, of "Let's work together, I'm putting my faith in what we can do as one" gave birth to the physical manifestation of a powerful force. 

Love was all they needed. And it protects Equestria from the raw force of Hatred that the Wendigos represented to this day, as well as providing a beautiful living reminder over Canterlot itself of the power of Harmony. It's a shining beacon to all.

It is that spirit of Harmony that all of the races, and I do mean ALL of them, there was no dispute, which makes Ponies so great. They feel it is their fundamental core. 

Frankly, I believe it. I've seen so much of their species and this world, I don't doubt it. But I wanted to know what they honestly felt about each other and themselves. Yes, they agree they're all awesome, but some are more awesome in other ways than others, surely?

I also had Spike the Dragon assisting me. Sometimes a little outside perspective added in a dose of realism. I took in, however, his obvious bias for Rarity. Math nerds will be happy to know the influence percentage was mathematically and scientifically significant: he was 90% more positive on reflex to speak well about unicorns than any other race. So I ALSO asked Princess Celestia and Luna, themselves alicorns and a rarity in the Equestrian species, to act as additional experts on the differences between the species. 

ON INTELLIGENCE

Fluttershy: "Oh, well, I don't like to think anybody's dumber than anyone else. We're all smart in our own ways. Dash retains information really well, she just doesn't realize it, and nobody else could memorize every single page of Daring Do's adventures. Not even Twilight. Besides, Dash and Pinkie Pie are just so creative, sometimes even more so than Rarity! Pinkie Pie's a real artist with her parties, and Dash has a way of moving through the sky like she's a ballerina when she really wants to."

Rainbow Dash:  "Everyone thinks I'm...well, that I'm the dumbest of the group. I get that feeling from other ponies. I don't really care. I'm smart when it counts, and so are a lot of Pegasi! We're the biggest group in the military, we've got more knowledge of how life really works. WE know how to work the Rainbow Factory, WE can accurately gauge exactly how much wind pressure your wings can handle at 10,000 feet! I'd like to see Twilight figure that one out while also trying to take care of a tornado!...no, that's not fair. I'm sorry. Unicorns can be so snotty towards us. A lot of them think we're just dumb jocks."

Applejack:  "A lot of folks, I reckon they think I'm dumb. Maybe. But I know the Earth. I know when she's ripe and ready for crops. I know exactly how to handle wild animals and cattle. I can tie a triple decker knot and rope steers like nobody's business. And I can tell when it's going to rain just by looking at the sky and feeling the temperature of the air. I might not be "smart"...but I'm wise. There's a difference. Knowledge and real intelligence, they're two different things, pardner." 

Pinkie Pie: "I don't know who's smart and who's dumb. I never think about things like that. I just believe in making other people happy. I don't like insisting everyone has to be held to the same exact standard. We're not all the same pony! We can't all fit in the same mold and I wouldn't want it that way! Everyone's perfect in their little, special unique ways, and there's nothing wrong with being not as smart as someone else. I don't care if I can't solve a theory from Haycartes. NOBODY can figure out how to make people smile like me. 

Rarity: Sophistication is what matters. You must conduct yourself with civility and nobility in all affairs. And that means reading up. I worked long and hard, many nights at a time, and developed a successful business. I've a shrewd and clever mind, I assure you. And I have to be, because when it comes to fashion, its about being able to get inside people's heads and helping them realize what they want. I have to know a person's interests and how they'd want to look just by looking at what they wear. It can be tricky to formulate that in your mind if you're not a unicorn, but having magic helps considerably, darling. I feel sorry for the Pegasi and Unicorns who can't do magic. I wonder sometimes if there'd ever be some way they could learn it?

Twilight: Well, honestly, I've asked for intelligence quotient tests. But they're so unreliable so often. I've poured over various tomes and uncovered a few studies on the different races. On average when it comes to critical thinking and problem-solving, Pegasi excel. They do far, far superior to other races, whilst the Earth ponies are on average more creative and better at things like writing and drawing, with someone like R.K Yearling being an exception, whilst Unicorns, like I was, excelled at the math and science sections of the intelligence tests. I don't know if any one species is truly DUMB. I suppose, on average, when accounting for all factors and medians, unicorns are slightly above the others in overall intelligence quotients? 

Spike: If intelligent means "somebody who solves everyone's problems", I've got to say Twilight is the smartest. She's usually the one who figures out what we all need to do to save the day. Rarity's so creative and clever, but...well, Twilight just figures things out sooner! 

Princess Celestia: Honestly, I don't know how you could ever choose which of our little ponies was smarter. I mean, parents don't actually choose favorites! That's just a myth. And Luna and I don't have favorites.

Princess Luna: Unicorns are smarter. I've spent a lot of time around Earth Ponies and Pegasus Ponies and Unicorns, and in truth, I feel unicorns are smarter. There have been more unicorn philosophers and scientists than from any other race. It may just be because there are more unicorns within Canterlot and most of these thinkers came from the city that it's simply a matter of circumstance, but now we're going chicken and egg. I'm saying unicorns.

ON PHYSICAL STRENGTH

Fluttershy: "Uh...you know, I'm not really the strongest. I think Rainbow Dash and Applejack are much, much stronger than I am, and I think they're really strong. I don't know if I could say an Earth pony was stronger than a Unicorn or Pegasus. I mean, what does it mean to be strong?"

Rainbow Dash:  "I can kick the behinds of any baddie that I come across, and I tell you, there's a good reason why we Pegasus ponies are the Calvary of the Equestrian army! We put the "Wonder" in Wonderbolts. We're lean, mean, fighting machines. We strike hard and more importantly, strike fast. We overwhelm the enemy. Buck YEAH Pegasus ponies are stronger!"

Applejack:  "Are Earth ponies stronger than other ponies? Reckon course. We were the ones to first till the land. We can get rid of the nastiest critters, we can crack the ground with a good ol' kick in the right place. We're built tough and strong and we last long. Don't get me wrong! Pegasus types, they can go for a while up in the worst conditions up in the sky. But they ain't endurable. They're good for when you need something done quick. When you need something done right, done strong, done HARD...you turn to an Earth pony 99 percent of the time, no ifs, ands or buts." 

Pinkie Pie: "She really said that? Oh, Equestrian language. Why must the word for for "exception" be a homonym for my tushie? But...heeheeehee...she's right. I'm pretty sure we Earth ponies are stronger. I grew up on a rock farm and I tell you, it made me really, really tough. Beneath my seemingly puckish exterior is a honed form similar to that of Arnold Hoofzenenegger!" 

Rarity: "Darling, unicorns don't really "fight" on the front lines. So whether it's Pegasi or Earth ponies that are stronger, I couldn't quite tell you. We usually need to cast magic from the back, staying out of the line of fire so we can work our ways. Pegasi and Earth ponies can afford to be more reckless. I'm not sure which of them is stronger. Someone really ought to do a test. It'd be fascinating to know. 

Twilight: "Which race is stronger? Well, nobody ever did a study of that. I'm surprised, honestly. Maybe it's because Canterlot doesn't have a lot of Earth ponies to survey. It could be Unicorn-centrism, which is a true shame. If I had to take a guess based on what I've seen of the various ponies I've encountered as to which race of pony is stronger, Pegasi may be able to endure harsh temperatures and harsh winds up above, but they're usually wearing clothing to protect them from the worst of that when they're out flying. The Wonderbolt costumes, for example, are incredibly well-designed to be protective and snug. Earth ponies usually don't work with that, they're exposed to the elements more, so I believe they've got an advantage.

Spike: "Ooooh. Gee. Who's stronger? I love Rarity an Twilight, but I'd never call them physically stronger than Rainbow Dash or Applejack. And I don't think Fluttershy's the type to plow a field. Pinkie Pie always seems to be able to bring in huge party supplies to places all over town and at a moment's notice, and I've got no idea how she carries it all. So I GUESS maybe Earth ponies are stronger?

Princess Luna: Unicorns may be smarter, and Pegasi can fly and reach places others dare not tread, but Earth ponies are without a doubt the strongest out of all the pony races. I don't know why Celestia just won't admit to this. I suppose she wants to treat all ponies equally and fairly. But I argue that not acknowledging that each race has advantages the other doesn't really ISN'T treating them fairly. 

Princess Celestia: I'm, I'm not doing this. Look, I don't really want to say one group is better than another. That sort of mindset was what led to ponies bickering so much the Wendigos almost froze them all solid to begin with. 

WHO WOULD MAKE FOR A BETTER LEADER?

Fluttershy: "We Pegasus...er, we're really very much all about the right goals. We're results-oriented. We want to get things done and get it done right. I know that you catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar, and a good leader needs to know that. When you can reach someone on an emotional level, you can really make them understand how they can improve themselves and everyone around them!"

Rainbow Dash:  "Real leaders need to be tough and capable of taking a licking and keep on-a-kickin'. They have to be strong and fast. They need to be the best at everything they do, and they need to be there for their people. That, above all else, is what matters. If you're not good enough to protect your people, you're trash. But if you don't even want to TRY to protect them, then you're lower than trash!"

Applejack:  "An Earth pony knows that hard work and struggle are what matters. An Earth pony leader gets things done by pulling everyone together and having everyone put in their all. It's about shared responsibility, and above all, bein' honest. If somebody goes up to me, say I'm the ruler of Equestria, and they ask me "Do we got enough food for the winter" and the stores are pretty darn bare, I'm gonna tell them "Darn tootin', this is gonna be tough". Some will lie selfishly and indiscriminately. Others draw a line. But I'm a straight-talker, and a good leader has to be the same. When your ponies know you're honest with them, they'll keep going back to you, because they'll know you're the one they can rely on."

Pinkie Pie: "Oh, I think a good leader is someone who everyone likes. Who can make everyone happy. When I see depressed creatures I remind them on their own behalf to think of celebrated heads of state, or 'specially great communicators! Did they have brains or knowledge? Don't make me laugh! They were POPULAR. It's all about pop-u-laaar! And with some assist you see, from folks like you or me, we'll change who you are! And nothing will stop you from becoming popul...lar!"

Rarity: "A good leader listens to people. Understands them and their needs. You have to be understanding. Considerate. Generous. Give and give, all that you have! Don't be afraid or ashamed to give up everything you have to help others. It becomes a symbol to others to be generous as well. When you're there for other people, they in turn will try to be there for you, and that attitude spreads about like a "good infection"!" 

Twilight: "I always wondered why Princess Celestia and Luna got to be rulers. And truth be told, I think it's based solely on their merits, and that a good leader has to prove themselves. They were capable of raising  the sun and moon, they defeated Discord and Tirek the first time, they exiled King Sombra from the Crystal Empire. Doing all that, why wouldn't Equestrians say "We want you in charge"? So we all drew up a Constitution and the two became our monarchs. I know that kind of sounds like "whoever beats up the most bad guys" is the basis for how we decide who gets to be in charge, but...okay, maybe it sort of is...um...it's complicated." 

Spike: "Well, dragons kind of base leadership on pure strength and stuff. I don't like that. I don't think a leader should be a bully. A leader should be somebody that makes the hard decisions and takes responsibility. Even if it means you've messed up. And believe me. I would know. 

Princess Luna: I, um...well...I was kind of jealous about not being appreciated as a leader myself. So I may be biased when it comes to this. Are you sure I should talk about this sort of thing?

Princess Celestia: I've noticed you've collected a large variety of answers, and the true answer lies in the story of the fable of the elephant and the blind ponies. Five different ponies all found an elephant and felt up different parts of its body, all saying the elephant was like a tree trunk or a snake or the like. All were partially right! But all were still in the wrong. And therein is the true answer. All of my little ponies and my dear Spike, they've all partially got the right ideas, but they're not all completely right. A true leader has to be both authoritarian and compassionate, capable of leading the people yet knowing when to acquiesce to them. They have to be generous, but also harsh at times. They have to be intelligent and logical, yet be able to truly feel for their people when it most counts. A leader must be, in many ways, a paradox, a constant conflict of emotions and states. But we ponies are like that. We're not all one thing all the time, after all. And is that so bad? 

Spike: HONESTLY, I think alicorns make the best leaders. I mean, they can do magic and fly. Two for one. That's good enough, right? I think. And I've never heard of a lousy alicorn leader.