why does this chapter need a name this is a letter not a novel for crying out loud
Hi ponies and humans!
So by now you've probably seen Season 5, Episode 4 of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Maybe you thought it was great, maybe not so much. Honestly, I usually wouldn't care either way, but since for some strange reason I made a cameo in the last thirty seconds I thought I'd write a quick follow up for all of you viewers of that show about ponies that didn't turn out that bad.
Let me formally introduce myself. I am the morbidly obese light blue unicorn with a short green mane that appeared around the 21 minute mark of the episode Canterlot Boutique of the reality show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. (My picture is the fanfiction title.) To briefly recap my role in the episode: I burst through the boutique door (don't ask how I fit through it—if you want logic, watch an episode where Pinkie Pie doesn't make an appearance), inquired about a princess dress, was outright denied one before being thoroughly laughed at by the two ponies running the joint, gave the the camera a nonchalant shrug before galloping off into the back room of the store, supposedly to look for a different dress.
To all ponies reading this, bear with me for these next few paragraphs—the stuff I'm going to be writing about is obvious for us, but for some reason the humans haven't wrapped their minds around it all yet. They still think they created our world or something. Trippy and egocentric as hell, if you think about it, but anyway. This part is just for the humans, so humans: listen up.
Yes, I am the first obese pony to be caught on camera and aired by the My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic producers. Don't ask me why they decided to finally mar the utopia of thin, beautiful ponies they had been curating for four and a half seasons long—hell if I know. I guess they needed a pony to be the butt of a bad joke and they couldn't take Derpy or Sunset Shimmer because the former was in Ponyville and the latter was in a parallel universe?
Anyway, I'm not here to speculate about production's weird ass criteria for letting stuff through. It's not my job to decide what gets beamed to your universe—all my cutie mark talent is is actually sending over the final product to all the alternate universes. My cutie mark is a shittily designed thing (seriously? a picture of myself on my own rump? with stars?) but bestowes upon me a really cool job—a busy quarter might have me coming in every week on Saturday, but most of the time it feels like the show is on hiatus, so I don't have to come to work and can kind of just do whatever the hell I want all day. I still get paid a decent amount of money though—that's the advantage of monopolizing a niche talent market. Seriously. It's freaking awesome.
But yeah, anyway. Usually the film team is pretty good about accurately depicting our world on TV, it's only the little things like avoiding the old, masculine or overweight that they do change. It's not like they ban us from the film site or anything, it's just that none of us want to be that guy who messes up the shot and all of a sudden everypony is awkwardly staring at you, waiting you to leave the site so they can resume filming. It doesn't really affect my daily life though—I live in Filydelphia and I don't believe the mane cast has been there yet, so the chance of me stumbling upon a filming session is pretty low. Besides eliminating certain types of ponies from the big screen, the producers also cut a lot of history and stuff about the source of magic out. Our culture possesses a deep rooted fear that if you guys figure out how to travel to our world that you might nuke us with your crazy weapons until we give you feature-length films of ponies every week with no hiatus or some crazy shit like that. That's right—just because everything seems technicolor and happy over here does not mean we don't have our own fears and problems to deal with. Personally, I am of the opinion that sending pony content to your world at all is dangerous as it is, considering the human civilization is like a cantankerous toddler that destroys every single freaking thing in its possible reach. But some higher up must have decided it helped our interdimensional karma or some bogus like that and now you guys like the show so much we are forced to keep up pace with the demand.
Now that I have more or less briefed you on the true nature of our world, I would like to turn to the main point of this open letter—that is, if you haven't had an epileptic seizure or heart attack or something from your mind being utterly blown. Namely: the way I was portrayed made me seem like a shallow, gullible idiot. I would like to salvage a shred of dignity by explaining my side of the story.
The show was still on hiatus—which meant vacation for me--when I first heard the news of Rarity's so-called 'Princess Dress' being an absolute smash. I was watching interdimensional TV (The other perk of my cutie mark: a couple of years after I first got it, I figured out that it was not only useful for sending interdimensional messaged, but also receiving them. A couple of weeks of sleepless experimentation later and I had my own personal TV with infinite channels. Coincidentally, that was around the time that I started gaining weight.) and eating hamburgers when the latest issue of some trashy magazine got delivered to my doorstep. The dress plagued the magazine's pages like flies swarming around some poor sucker's picnic basket, so my first reaction was dread, since the last time a dress got this famous it was because of a debate regarding its color that was absolutely of no substance. But as the next few days went by and around one hundred and fifty ponies, mostly from Canterlot, had purchased this high-quality extremely expensive piece of designer wear, I realized that this was more than a debate over whether a poor quality picture looked more gold or blue—this was something exploitable. A business venture that would be quite easy for me to set up and make a decent profit from, if I moved the chess pieces right.
Miss Rarity had been catering to the market of rich, thin, fashion savvy mares living in Canterlot—which makes sense for her, of course, since this was being filmed for the show and all. But you couldn't patent shimmery bluish greenish fabric, nor was it likely that she had even trademarked the name 'Princess Dress'. (As a matter of fact, she hadn't. Rookie mistake, heh.) Now, I had plenty of money in the bank at the time, but just because I wasn't short on dough at the time didn't mean that I wouldn't give an easy-sounding moneymaking opportunity a shot. I had been in many different businesses over the years, from the publishing industry to participating in psychological experiments to even conducting psychological experiments, but I had never ripped off a product before, so it's fair to say I was excited about the idea. And really, everything had been going quite smoothly. I rang up a friend who owns a textile sweat shop (long story) and placed an order, but this certain friend needed a sample of the original dress before they could begin designing cheaper variations of it. I tried to find a way to obtain the dress without leaving Filydelphia, but unfortunately everypony there who had dresses seemed like they would protect their dresses with their lives, so I reluctantly decided to take the train over to Canterlot and buy a dress with with my own four hooves.
I should have realized that an event this important to Rarity's career would almost certainly also be filmed, if not make it on the show. I was wrapped up in my excitement, I suppose. I would say I am the adventurous sort, so I had been wanting to ride a wave of some ridiculous fad by selling knock-offs until the fad's popularity waned for years. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to test the waters. When I got to Canterlot, there were no cabs in sight so I had to walk to the boutique. Not having throught ahead, the only map of the city I possessed was a mini-version printed in the trashy magazine in which I first read about the Princess Dress. So when I first burst into the Canterlot Boutique, I was slightly frazzled and completely out of breath from lugging all my extra flub around on my tiny legs, causing me to act slightly less intelligent than I usually would act. Add the shock of suddenly facing a bunch of cameras and YES, I panicked. After blurting out something about a sale, loudly inquiring about the Princess Dress and then being flat-out rejected with a flat 'No' and some laughter, rather than asking for an alternate model or even an incomplete version, I dumbly stared at the cameras in shock before galloping away to the back room as fast as my exhausted legs could take me.
After asking around and realizing that the Princess Dress had been discontinued, I realized that if I were to obtain a Princess Dress still, that it would not be in this store. On my way out, I noticed Rarity and Sassy arguing about something and somepony on the film staff trying to split up the fight, complaining about if they don't stop fighting the only footage they will have will be the 'ruined' footage from before, most likely involving my disruption. Since I ended up appearing on the show, the film crew most likely lost patience with the two fashionistas' arguments and decided to leave my presence in the episode for laughs or whatever. I went back to Filydelphia, tried to get my hooves on a dress but failed and had to scrap the business idea. A few weeks later, I was called into work to beam a new episode out to the human world. It was only then when I finally got to watch the episode and ugh, the way I was depicted made me gag, so I decided to write this small rambling letter in order to clear things up.
And that's it. So no, I am not the sole obese pony in Equestria and no, I am not a fumbling baffoon in real life. Also, a great deal of what you think you know about My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is ultimately a lie, Big Brother is watching you, and in the Interdimensional Orthography Guide, the Oxford Comma is canon.
Sincerely,
the fat pony