The Only Chapter that Ever Was
"Who am I? What am I? Who is me? What is me? Is existence really such a fragile thing?" Spike asked to nopony in particular. The little dragon had been asking insane philosophical questions like these for the past six hours. Not only was this keeping him from getting some much needed rest, it was also immensely pissing off the purple unicorn in the bed next to his. Spike's unanswerable questions penetrated the pillow Twilight had tightly clenched around her head in a fruitless attempt to get some sleep.
"Ugh! Spike, I've told you a million times! I don't know where they found your egg or who had you! Now pleeeeeease let me sleep!"
With a huff, the irritated unicorn turned over in her bed, facing away from the mentally baffled dragon. It was at that very moment that Spike had an epiphany.
"I've just had an epiphany!" Spike declared, apparently unaware that the writer had already stated this. "If nopony knows who my parents are, I'll just have to find them myself...right after I catch some rest."
Confident that he would now be able to find his true parents and discover who he really was, Spike fell asleep, much to the pleasure of Twilight Sparkle.
The next morning, Spike contacted the only pony who would be able to assist him in his paternal quest. He picked up Twilight's iPony 3, dialed the number, and waited for his one-and-only hope to pick up.
"Hello. This is Doctor Philly, how can I help you?"
"Um, I'm Spike. I'm trying to find my real parents, and you're the only talk-show host in Equestria that the writer could make a horse pun for. This being said, I was wondering if you could possibly help me find my real parents. Can you?"
On the other end of the line, the doctor pondered this for a moment. He hadn't had a good show since helping that pink mare with her party addiction. An episode opportunity like this doesn't come around that often. What did he have to lose?
"Alright, kid. I'll help you out. I'll let you know when we've found some suitable candidates," the doctor said in his typical nasally southern drawl.
"Oh thank you doctor! You're the best!" exclaimed Spike, practically bouncing up and down.
The baby dragon hung up the phone and ran to tell Twilight the good news.
Doctor Philly placed his phone down gingerly on its cradle before picking it back up and dialing the only pony he knew who could help him with his monumental task.
"Hello. Is this Doctor Whooves?" Doctor Philly asked, twirling the cord of his phone in anticipation.
"Why hello there, Philly. How can I assist a fellow doctor?"
The balding earth pony hesitated before speaking. "I need you to find some...subjects for my next episode."
"What do you mean by 'subjects'," asked Doctor Whooves suspiciously.
"Look. I had a little dragon call in about wanting to find his real parents. I've never had to find a dragon's parents before. For that matter, I would never be able to find a dragon's parents. Paternity tests in this world are designed for ponies only. That's where you come in. I need you to find some reptiles from different realms, and we'll randomly select one or two of them as the parents."
"That's not very professional, doctor. Don't you want the child to end up with his legitimate biological parents?" Whooves inquired.
Whooves had to hold the phone away from his ear due to the blaring laughter coming from the other end of the line. Once the laughter ceased, he returned the phone to his ear to hear his friend continue.
"I don't give two bucks about the kid! My show is about ratings, not the happiness of the guests. Now get out there and get me those subjects - or do I have to introduce you to Glenn Buck for an exclusive Clops News interview on time travel?"
The time-traveling doctor shuddered at the thought of having to appear on Clops News after what happened to the mayor of Ponyville's mind after she was verbally barraged by remarks about her "political scandals."
"So, do we have a deal?" Philly asked in a rather cocky tone.
Having no other choice, all the time-and-space traveler could do was reluctantly agree. Dr. Whooves hung up the phone, climbed into his time booth, and set forth to find some suitable candidates.
I love you.
You love me.
We're a happy family.
With a great-big hug, and a kiss from me to you.
Won't you say you love me, too?
Every child surrounding the purple dinosaur wrapped their arms around him in a warm embrace.
"Aaaaaaaaaaand CUT!" shouted the director.
Once he was sure the cameras were no longer recording the heart-warming scene, Barney scooped up one of the children and threw him across the studio into a very conveniently placed set of bowling pins. The purple dinosaur stepped over the child writhing in pain on the floor and plopped his colorful butt on his golden throne-style chair.
"Where the hell is Barney's latte?" asked a rather irritated sounding Barney. As the interns frantically scrambled to get the over-sized reptile his beverage, the colorful creature in question proceeded to pull a cigar and began to smoke it, blowing smoke in people's faces as they walked by.
A scrawny intern darted to where the impatient dinosaur was sitting holding a steaming cup of coffee. Barney forcefully grabbed the cup from the trembling intern. After taking one sip, however, he spat the hot beverage into the man's face and threw the cup at him.
"This is a mocha you jackass! Barney said chai!"
"I'm so, so sorry Mr. Barney, sir. Please don't hurt me," the man asked, shielding his face with his arms. This wasn't enough to stop the purple reptile from vigorously back-handing the intern, sending him flying across the set.
"Barney always hurts morons who screw up his coffee," Barney retorted to no one in particular, though it did cause everyone around him to cower in fear.
"Um, excuse me, Mr. Barney, sir," said a English accented voice from behind the purple dinosaur. Barney spun around to find a cartoony-looking chestnut colored equine of some sort looking at him with a confused gaze.
"Who the hell are you - and why is there and hourglass on your ass?" Barney asked, annoyed that he couldn't get a moments peace in this toilsome job of his.
"Well, my name is Dr. Whooves. I am here to bring you to Equestria to be on the Dr. Philly show. You've been summoned for a paternity test."
"WHAT?!" screamed Barney. With brute strength, he grabbed a random child who happened to be walking by and tossed him into another conveniently placed set of bowling pins.
The doctor adjusted his tie to lessen his anxiety. "Well, you see, there is a young dragon in Equestria who would like to find his real parents. It, uh, just so happens that you are on the list."
The dinosaur grabbed the pony by the tie and pulled him in so that they were face to face, his angry breath smelling of cheap cigars, cheap liquor, and cheap women. This combination of scents made Whooves slightly uncomfortable.
"Listen, buddy. Barney doesn't know who you are - or what you are, for that matter. All Barney knows is that Barney doesn't take too kindly to talking animated horses who come and tell Barney that he has to submit to a paternity test against his will."
Dr. Whooves hesitated for a moment before very cautiously speaking. "What? No. I'm, uh, not here to tell you to do anything. I was just wondering if you had any sort of...intimate relations about a decade ago?"
"Okay, listen. Baby-Bop came on to Barney. Alright? Barney was young, free, and ambitious," Barney seemed to have lost his rage and had now switched to a sort of dramatic tone. "This industry bored Barney to the point of ripping out his scales. Those damn kids never left Barney alone. Barney needed something - a release, if you will. Baby-Bop was the closest thing Barney had."
"So, will you come or not?" the doctor asked, becoming increasingly annoyed that this purple monstrosity was taking up much more time than he had planned.
"Yeah. Yeah, Barney will come with you - there's just something I gotta take care of first," said Barney.
The pony eyed the large reptile curiously as he walked toward the cast of children waiting for him to return to set. Barney got down on one knee and motioned for the children to gather around him.
"Now kids, Barney knows that we've had a rather...troubled past. But Barney just wants you to know..."
He stood back up and raised both of his middle claws to the onlooking juveniles.
"...that Barney hates you all. Burn in hell, everyone."
With that, Barney followed the chestnut pony to his dimensional transporter.
On a lone rock, a purple dragon rested as the soft breeze whisked his scales and wings in it's majestic pull. All of a sudden, a flash of light appeared on a patch of grass only to be replaced by a peculiar looking telephone booth. Now awake, the little dragon curiously approached the mysterious object. The door opened, and out popped a cartoonish looking horse.
"Who are you?" the dragon asked.
The pony got back on his hooves and brushed himself off before responding. "Are you Spyro the Dragon?"
The dragon's eyes beamed at the stranger's question. "Yep! That's me! Why - you hear about me?"
"Actually, I hear that you had a rather... intimate encounter with a Ms. Cynder about a decade ago? I'm here to bring you to be on the Dr. Philly show in Equestria for a paternity test."
Pondering this for a moment, Spyro finally spoke out with a strange sense of enthusiasm. "Alright. Count me in."
"I'm afraid I can't take no for an answ - wait what?" the doctor asked, surprised that anyone would so quickly agree to a process such as this.
"I'll come with you. I'd be ecstatic if it turns out I'm a daddy!" Before saying anything more, Spyro leaned in closer to the pony, as if to tell him a secret that no one else must know. "Personally, I think Cynder's been hiding something from me for the past little while. If it's a little baby dragon, then I guess she'll have some explaining to do," Spyro sneered.
"Well, alright then. If you'll just follow me..." Dr. Whooves motioned for the dragon to enter the phone booth. As he was stepping in, another purple looking dragon appeared wearing a pink apron.
"Spyro, honey, where you going?"
"Just going for a little trip, babe. I'll probably be back in a few days," replied a rather annoyed-sounding Spyro.
The look on the female dragons face transformed from one of concern to one of suspicion and anger. "Fine. Just don't let me find out that you got some dragon pregnant when you get back," she scolded, shaking a fist in his direction. After letting out a small sigh, Spyro and Dr. Whooves stepped into the booth and left Cynder with a confused expression plastered on her snout.
The blowing snow stung the face of the Dovahkiin as he stared at his winged foe. Alduin hovered high above the mighty warrior, his teeth bared and ready for battle. The tension in the air was as thick as the hate these two legends had for each other. As the black dragon was about to launch his voice towards his foe, a meek voice broke the silence.
"Excuse me, um, Mr. Alduin, sir?"
Both the Dovahkiin and Alduin broke from their stare-down and gazed at a chestnut colored pony. After an awkward minute of silence, Alduin spoke up.
"Yes? What do you want, weakling?"
"I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me. Please don't make this any harder than it has to be Mr. World-Eater."
Alduin's face contorted from one of confusion to one of annoyance. "Now is really not a good time. Come back later - preferably when I'm not destroying Tamriel."
"I thought you'd say something like that," the doctor said, a sly grin crossing his muzzle, "and that is why I took the liberty of going back in time and taking some photos of you at last year's Christmas party."
Alduin's face quickly flushed bright red. "You wouldn't dare."
"Oh no?" the doctor remarked. He trotted over to the Dovahkiin and gave him the photographs. After seeing several different pictures of Alduin in several different embarrassing positions and predicaments, the mighty Dovahkiin began rolling in the snow and laughing at his "great" enemy.
"I can show this to your brother, as well. Would you like that?" Dr. Whooves asked the dragon, who seemed to growing redder by the second.
"Okay, fine! I'll go with you to wherever you want. Just don't show anyone else those pictures. PLEASE!"
Alduin had landed in front of the doctor, groveling at his hooves. The pony motioned for the dragon to follow him into the booth. After a few minutes of trying to fit the Master of Dragons into a 5x3 door, they set off for Equestria, leaving the Dovahkiin, who was still laughing his ass off.
The crowd of ponies began to go wild as their host trotted onto the stage.
"Hello, everypony. Welcome to the Dr. Philly Show. I'm your host, Dr. Philly."
The cream-colored unicorn relished in the applause and the screams of his fans. There was nothing in all of Equestria that could compare to the feeling of thousands of ponies chanting your name - for him, at least. When the cheers began to die down, the doctor spoke once more.
"Today, we have a very special treat for you all. A few days ago, a little dragon called me and asked if I could find his biological parents. Well, I certainly couldn't pass up a chance to make a child happy."
The studio audience was putty in Dr. Philly's hooves. They 'awwed' and remarked how sweet that was, but Dr. Whooves was not as impressed, sitting in the audience, wearing nothing but a scowl. Even though the time- traveler was channeling his very best death stare towards the talk-show host, it seemed to not catch the host's attention.
"Anyway, we have three guests who all have the potential to be this little dragon's father," the doctor continued, "so without further adieu, let's bring them out, shall we?"
The audience roared with agreement. One by one, the reptiles in question filed onto the stage and sat in their corresponding chairs.
"Fillies and gentlecolts, allow me to introduce our possible parents: Barney the Dinosaur, Spyro, and Alduin!"
By this time, the crowd was nearly bursting through the wall of security guards, who could barely keep the rowdy bunch at bay. Barney promptly pulled out a cigarette and began to smoke it, Spyro seemed to enjoy everyone cheering in his general direction - even though it wasn't all for him, and Alduin kept glancing nervously about the room as if he was being stalked.
"Let's start with you, Barney," Philly said, "from what I hear, you and kids seem to...not mix. Is that true?"
The purple dinosaur took a long drag off his cigarette before taking it out of his mouth, examining it, then eating it. Not paying any attention to the terrified expression on the doctor's face, Barney spoke.
"Let's get one thing straight before we continue. That ho Baby-Bop came on to Barney. A'ight? She came on to Barney. So, if anything, she should be the one here; not Barney."
After saying this, a green female dinosaur strutted onto the stage. Her speed wasn't affected by her knee high boots, nor by her exceedingly tight fishnets. With every step she took, her black miniskirt seemed to ride up higher towards her black corset. Her mascara-drenched eyes glared at Barney while her lipstick-smothered lips were contorted into a scowl.
"You lyin' son-of-a-bitch! I so didn't come onta you, ya sack o' testicles!" she screamed in an accent that could only be described as 'sounding like she came from the deepest bowels of New Jersey.'
The furious female charged Barney, but security ponies were able to barely hold back her assault.
"Go back to Jersey, you psycho whore!"
Baby-Bop shook off the guards and marched up to Barney, their faces nearly touching.
"Don't call me a psycho whore, you box o' piss!"
"You're a smelly pirate hooker! Why don't you go back to your home on whore island?"
"I ain't no pirate hooker! You better sit your five-dolla ass down before I make change!"
"Look, everyone! Barney found a pirate hooker! Land HO!"
Baby-Bop couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed a gun from her boot and shot off the purple dinosaur's head. To everyone's/everypony's surprise, underneath Barney's head sat a smaller head; the head of a human.
"Wait. So, you're not a dinosaur?" asked Dr. Philly, still somewhat in a daze from the gun blast.
"Of course Barney is, moron. See?" the man in the purple suit reached up to where his reptilian head would have been, only to realize that it now sat on the floor; a large bullet hole between the eyes. The man in the suit stared at the head in horror, realizing that his dark secret had finally been revealed to a crowd of those he didn't know and really couldn't care less if he knew.
"Ahh!" he screamed, "Barney has been bamboozled!"
He proceeded to pull a small pill from his pocket. "Now that the children have learned Barney's true identity, and since I can't kill all of the witnesses...YOU'LL NEVER TAKE BARNEY ALIVE!"
With middle-finger raised, the man quickly popped the pill into his mouth, then fell over. Dead.
After a few moments of waiting for him to get up, Dr. Philly trotted over to the man's lifeless corpse and checked his pulse.
"He's dead," he announced, unaware that the writer had already stated the obvious. The crowd gasped in terror and astonishment, debating whether to see the end of the show or to leave. Before any of the audience could decide, however, each of their chairs sprouted metal couplings and cuffs that bound them to their seats. Many of the members of the crowd attempted to struggle free, but to no avail.
Dr. Whooves was no where near the stands by now. Instead, he was backstage, engaged in a rather normal conversation with Spike when the situation with the chairs happened.
"What in the hay is going on out there?" Whooves asked.
"Well, whatever's going on, I just hope it can wait till I'm done with my nap," replied Spike. Before the doctor could retort, Spike fell back in his seat and began to snore.
"Perhaps I should sit back for a little while and observe what Philly does," whispered the chestnut pony to himself.
Back on stage, Dr. Philly was trying to calm down both his two remaining guests and his audience. When everything else failed, he grabbed the gun from Baby-Bop's hand and fired a shot into the air. The room fell silent as the sound of the blast rang in the ears of the crowd.
"Now that I have your attention, let's return to the matter at hand," Philly said, slightly flustered.
Despite the shackles they were in, the audience tried to settle back down and resume watching this once-in-a-lifetime spectacle unfold.
"Thank you for your time, Miss Baby-Bop. You may leave now."
With a huff, the dino-whore picked up the lifeless body of-
"Call me a dino-whore one more time! I'll come right off this page and I'll shove these boots up your ass, ya little prick! I-"
Due to these comments made towards him, the writer instantly transported Baby-Bop and the body of Barney to Somalia, the most miserable place he could think of.
"Where'd she go?" asked Dr. Philly.
"To a better place, weakling. To a better place," Alduin answered.
After realizing that they may never know where the dino-whore went or just who the hell she was talking to when she disappeared, the doctor resumed the show.
Let's move onto you Mr. Spyro. So tell me, how is your relationship with Cynder?"
The dragon in question began to sweat profusely, his breathing quickened almost to the point of hyperventilation, and for some reason he seemed to be clutching his tail in a vice grip. An awkward silence hung throughout the room as the audience waited to hear a response.
"Okay! I admit it! I killed her! I cut her up and set the body on fire but it wouldn't burn! Oh, the smell was terrible! So then I dumped the torso in the river and dissolved the rest of it with lime and ammonia in the tub. Only then could I finally get to that pie without her interfering in my scheme," Spyro confessed, tears streaming down his face.
As he sobbed, Dr. Philly and the rest of the spectators just stared at the purple dragon.
"Spyro, I have no idea what you're talking about. All I want to know is if you had an intimate encounter or relationship with Miss Cynder Dragon?" asked the extremely confused yet focused doctor.
Wiping away the tears and realizing that they were oblivious to his confession, Spyro regained his composure and spoke up. "No. No, I never did. I just told that to the tabloids so I could gain some more popularity."
The audience gasped. If he had not been intimate before, then he couldn't be one of the potential parents.
"Well, if that's the case, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave. So please, allow me to be the first to say 'get the buck off my stage.'" replied the doctor.
Without further hesitation, the mystical dragon walked off the stage towards the exit, breathing a sigh of relief. This only left one potential parent: Alduin, the Eater of Worlds.
Dr. Philly adjusted his seat so that he was looking directly at the humongous monstrosity of a reptile before him. Alduin twiddled his thumbs as the doctor cleared his throat.
"So, Alduin. From what I hear, you work as the King of Dragons whose sole mission is to destroy Tamriel. Is that correct?"
The large black dragon ceased thumb-wrestling with himself and glanced nervously around the room. "Um, yes. That's correct."
"And are these pictures of you in a school-girl outfit at last year's Tamriel Christmas party accurate?" The photos of Alduin began to flash on a projector behind the doctor and the dragon. As each photo circulated through the projector, the world-eater's face grew more and more flushed.
When the slideshow was over, a golden-looking dragon flew onto the stage. He was about the same size as Alduin, though he was certainly laughing quite a bit more than the black dragon.
"Aw damn bro! I knew you was a slut but you didn't have to show it to me!" the golden dragon roared.
"How the hell did you get here, Paarthurnax?" questioned Alduin.
"How the hay do these bozos keep finding me?" asked Philly, to nopony in particular.
As Paarthurnax continued to insult and laugh at his clearly embarrassed brother, the crowd slowly but surely joined in; hollering both normal and horse-related obscenities.
"ENOUGH!" Alduin shouted, much to the surprise of the throng of onlookers. The world-eater turned towards his brother, who was still laughing his tail off, and prepared his Thu'um for a massive strike.
"GEETEE-EF-OH!"
A shock wave of cataclysmic proportions exploded from Alduin's mouth and collided with Paarthurnax. The golden dragon was shot out through the roof like a bullet, and continued to hurdle towards space until he could no longer be seen.
Turning back to a rather astonished Dr. Philly, Alduin blushed brightly. "Sorry about that. Now, what were we talking about?"
Regaining what little composure he had left, the host adjusted his tie and responded. "I think that will be all, Mr. Alduin. You can get the buck off my stage now, too."
The great-and-powerful Alduin was hurt by this. "Fine," he replied, pouting, "I'll just take my leave, then." Without further hesitation, Alduin formed a rather odd looking symbol with his claws. "Dragon Resistance! Represent, bitches."
With that, Alduin 'Fus-Ro-Dah'ed the ground where he stood, sending him shooting into the air until finally disappearing with a twinkle.
Everypony stared in awe at what just happened before returning their gaze to the still quite confused looking doctor.
"Well. Since all of the potential fathers are either dead or gone, I guess I can read the results of the test."
Whoops of excitement and anticipation as the doctor prepared his note card containing the results.
"I will announce the results right now. Can I get a drum-roll, please?"
A stage-hand conveniently set out a pair of kettle drums and began to play with impressive speed. Even though this character could make a good addition to the story line, the writer decided to eliminate him soon after writing the only sentence that he appeared in.
"The biological father...of Spike...is..."
Dr. Whooves, Spike, and everypony else held their breaths in suspense of the moment. In the silence, one could hear an anvil drop.
"...going to be revealed when we come back from this commercial break!"
Everypony who had previously held their breath now let it out laced with curses and obscenities as the commercials began to roll.
As the commercials came to a stop, Dr. Philly continued from where he left off.
"I must say, that last one was a bit raunchy. Now that we have our money from powerful companies to keep our show from going belly-up, I shall read the results."
Once again, every sentient being in the studio held their breaths in anticipation for the announcement of a lifetime.
"The biological father of Spike...is..."
Philly's expression contorted from one of excitement to one of confusion and bewilderment.
"It doesn't say anything," the doctor admitted, turning the card to the audience so that everypony could see that there were no results.
"Then how are we going to know who my father is?" Spike asked.
"I believe I can shed some light on that subject," a booming voice from the skies announced.
An orb of light descended from the skies and landed on the stage. Everypony gazed at the majestic aura pulsating in front of them.
"Celestia?" Spike asked in awe.
"No, even better," the voice said as the aura slowly dissipated, revealing a human.
Every spectator stared in amazement and confusion at the strange creature. Dr. Philly, however, was not convinced.
"And who the hay are you?" he asked, sounding rather irritated.
Dusting himself off, the human turned to face the doctor. "Why, I'm the writer of course. I am the master and ruler of this particular piece of literature."
The audience exchanged glances of fear, doubt, confusion...and arousal. Dr. Whooves, however, stared at the writer with a gaze that could only be described as 'curious to the point of hurting oneself.'
"So...can you tell me who my father is?" asked Spike impatiently.
"No. I'm afraid I can't. I came here to inform you all that the original writer of this story has perished, so I'm here to make sure this fictional fable is ready for termination."
Many members of the crowd gasped at the unexpected-yet-expected whimsical turn of events. Who was this man? Who was he to decide whether a universe should be ended or not?
"But I don't know who my father is! I NEED to know!" demanded the baby dragon.
The human simply patted Spike on the head and bent down so that he was eye-to-eye with the scaly infant.
"Listen. Perhaps you don't fully understand who I am. I am the master of this universe. Behold!"
With this, he snapped his fingers, causing a cloud of purple smoke to plume from the center of the floor. From the billowing smoke came the figure of a large bipedal dragon and a reptilian style bird.
"Meet Godzilla and the Jabberwock! They were both going to be on the show along with the others, but then the original writer became lazy and decided to go for a stroll around the park. Then..."
The human took a brief pause to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Then he was attacked; attacked by a ravenous band of trolls!" The audience stared at the human and his new reptilian cohorts, unsure of what to feel. The writer continued:
"I told him not to feed them, but he just kept telling them to buck off. I can still hear their song of destruction: 'Trolololololololololololol! U mad bro?' It was awful!"
Spike was growing more and more confused and impatient with every passing second. Finally, he jumped up and slapped the writer across the face, forcing him to quit his rant. Face red with rage, the human grabbed Spike and threw him across the stage, only to be caught by Dr. Whooves.
"You don't belong in this realm, writer. Go back to the realm from whence you came and finish this story. Right now you're just wasting the time of the audience and the readers, neither of which are very happy with you for that, I'm sure."
"Yeah. Just do it so I can find out who my real father is," Spike demanded.
The writer still looked rather steamed from the dragon bitch-slap he had received. He snapped his fingers once more, and his two reptile minions disappeared into the nothingness of space.
"Why do you want to find your father, anyway? Why can't you just be happy with the family that the canon has already established for you?" he said, unbinding a pony from the audience and holding him up for everypony to see.
"This guy doesn't even have a name and you don't hear him complaining," the writer retorted.
"Yeah," replied the nameless pony.
"You're not supposed to talk, either," the writer replied as he tossed the pony into a conveniently placed set of bowling pins.
"Wait a minute," Dr. Whooves mumbled to himself, remembering that only Barney had the power to throw people/ponies into conveniently placed sets of bowling pins. A smug grin crossed his face as he came to a realization.
"So it's come to this, has it...BARNEY?" the doctor asked, much to the astonishment of the crowd and the writer.
"What are you talking about? Barney isn't Barney," replied the human. After stating this, however, he quickly covered his mouth, attempting to hide the secret he had just let loose.
"I knew it! You aren't the writer!" Dr. Philly declared.
"Okay, so Barney wasn't the writer, but the writer won't be able to continue the story; Barney made sure of that," the man stated.
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that," Dr. Whooves snickered, "you can't stop the writer from writing the fan fiction. See? He's still writing it as we speak."
The human looked upwards to the words being typed on the ceiling above him, controlling his every action and move.
"Dammit! Barney thought Barney tied up the writer and threw him in a den of Twilight fans!" Barney screamed, knowing that he was defeated.
"As awful as that was, I still made it out alive enough to finish this fan fiction," boomed a voice from above, causing everypony to gaze to the visible sky through the hole in the ceiling.
The voice continued. "And now, Barney, you shall meet your doom!"
With that, Barney was cast down into Hell; a place that the writer had now filled with '50 Shades of Grey' fans, Twilight fans, Justin Bieber fans, the CEO of Chick-Fil-A, and a generic red and black striped Alicorn OC.
After a few minutes of trying to absorb what had just happened, Dr. Whooves was the first to speak up.
So...who is Spike's father, Mr. Writer?" he asked, giving Spike a small embrace.
"Ah, yes, I almost forgot," the booming voice from the sky chuckled, "Spike's parents are..."
Every sentient being held their breath, waiting the response that had taken twenty whole minutes to be reviled.
"...Going to be revealed right after this!"
Once again, the breath held in the lungs of the various audience members hissed out, laced with vulgarities and obscenities.
The writer stared at the computer screen in amazement.
"Well, you ponies sure have some sick, twisted advertisements. I love it!" he said, chuckling.
Whispers and murmurs spread throughout the audience asking questions like: "Who is he talking to?" and "Who the hay is that?" and "Are those things real?"
This was it. The moment of truth had finally arrived. Once again holding their breaths in anticipation, the crowd and the readers anxiously waited for the grand unveiling of Spike's true biological parents.
"Spike's father, as decided by the Internet is...GODZILLA!"
A bright light flashed across the stage, revealing the large reptilian racist. Whoops and hollers could be heard as ponies cheered and exchanged bet money. Godzilla sat there, a stunned look on his face.
"Dad!" Spike cried as he ran to embrace his father. The monster remained dazed as the tiny dragon gave him a warm embrace.
"Wait!" exclaimed the writer, "Spike's mother still hasn't been announced."
This caused Spike to let go of the still-speechless monster.
"Well, who's my mother, then?" he asked, sounding more uneasy than excited.
The writer cleared his throat as he prepared to announce the second part of his mind-blowing results. "I have decided that Spike's mother shall be...SLENDERMAN!"
Another flash of light burst throughout the studio to be replaced by a tall, faceless, black-suited figure. Godzilla finally found words.
"I say, what is this?" he asked angrily in his surprisingly British accent, "How could this travesty have occurred? We are both of the same gender. How in the name of bollocks could we have a child? I don't even know this ruffian!"
Slenderman remained motionless, his gaze directed at the audience.
"Do not question the writer! I have spoken, and this is my final decision!" boomed the writer as he slowly ascended back into the sky.
Everypony was speechless. Truly, something like this had never happened before in the history of forever, so none knew how to react to it.
"Well, Spike, enjoy the new parents. I have to go count up my money," Dr. Philly said hurriedly as he galloped backstage to embrace his hundreds-of-millions of bits. The shackles on the hooves of the audience let loose their grasp and allowed the spectators to leave. One by one, ponies exited the studio; some were happy, some were sad, some were scared, and some were horny.
Spike turned around to look at his new parents. Great, he thought, I have a racist monster and an albino serial killer as birth-givers. This should end well.
Putting on his best fake smile, Spike tried excruciatingly hard to sound thrilled about his new "mother" and father.
"Well, what should we do first, guys?" he asked.
Godzilla and Slenderman glanced between Spike and themselves several times before the reptilian racist finally found words.
"Well, perhaps a nice trip to the beach would be able to calm our nerves. What do you think, Slenderman?"
The suited figure neither moved nor spoke. He continued to sit like a stone, his faceless head pointed in the direction of some unknown force.
"I do believe he agrees," Godzilla answered.
With that, the newly-arranged "family" set forth to their sandy destination.
Arriving at the beach, Spike realized that this would not end well. His "mother" didn't look like he/she was getting any sort of a tan wearing a white-speckled black bikini, but that didn't stop him/her from sitting perfectly motionless in the sunlight. Godzilla was rocking a dark-green speedo that seemed to be cutting off all circulation to his various other appendages. The monster watched as three little fillies built a sandcastle, chuckling to himself as they worked.
"Yay! Cutie Mark Crusader Sand Castle Builders!" they exclaimed simultaneously.
Godzilla's right eye began to twitch as he realized what they had made: an exact replica of Tokyo made entirely out of sand. A sudden hotness swept over the racist reptile like when you're sleeping and some douche dumps a bucket of water on your head. He began to twitch and break out in a cold sweat as flashbacks of his previous conquests of the Japanese came flooding back into his mind.
"Bloody hell! I can stand this no longer!" he screamed. In one less-than-graceful bound, he leaped over to the sand city and began to smash it back into the ground from whence it came, screeching all the while.
"Aww, looks like we're not Cutie Mark Crusader Sand Builders after all," Sweetie Belle said with a sigh.
She perked up when Apple Bloom gave her a playful nudge. "It's not that big'a deal, Sweetie Belle. It didn't even look like a table in the first place," assured the red-maned earth pony.
"We were making a table?" asked the chicken - I mean Scootaloo, clueless as ever.
"Hey, Mr. Writer, we can do without the criticism and name callin'," said Apple Bloom, sounding slightly peeved.
"Fine. But I'm leaving the last part in there," the voice in the sky huffed.
The three fillies decided to go back home, seeing as now their city in the sand was being decimated by a middle-aged monster in a speedo.
Spike slowly looked over to his "mother", expecting to see events as ghastly as his father's, but he was slapped in the retinas with more than he expected.
For the convenience of the plot, the writer placed multiple humans roaming the sandy passages. One by one, they all caught a glimpse of the pale bikini-wearing "mother", causing their heads to explode.
This endless onslaught of carnage was too much for the little dragon. He knew what he had to do. He had to speak to the writer in person.
After ascending the escalator into the clouds which the writer had conveniently placed so that the story may continue, Spike arrived at a golden-plated door. Upon the door was a plaque that stated, "The Writer's Lair. Enter if you dare."
Having no clue as to what may await him was, Spike entered with an air of caution. As he stepped into the writer's lair, he noticed why many dared not to venture there. Various posters of AC/DC, Breaking Benjamin, and his friends from Ponyville covered the walls accompanied by dirty clothes strewn about the ground. The aroma or Dr. Pepper and shame filled Spike's nostrils as he tiptoed closer to the man sitting at his computer.
"Um, excuse me. Mr. Writer, sir?" Spike inquired meekly.
The figure in the chair spun around to face the little dragon. He didn't look too abnormal for a teenager. He had short brown hair, green eyes, an MLP t-shirt and a pair of Turtle Beach headphones around his neck - far from the god he seemed to be.
"What is it, Spike? Can't you see I'm writing a fanfic here?" he asked.
"I came to talk to you about my new parents. I kinda want you to, um, change them," he stated, a small, nervous grin spreading across his face.
The writer shot out of his chair, his expression one of rage.
"You think this is a game? Huh?! You think this is some sort of thing I can change? Well, thanks to the people and ponies who decided to read this, I can't," he seethed.
"But, I just-"
"NO! You want your parents changed, change them yourself! I give up on this story!"
With that, the writer grabbed his Lyra plushie from beside his computer and stormed off. It took Spike a minute or two to regain his sense of awareness and realize that the fan fiction was still open on the writers computer. With a sly grin, he climbed into the chair. In preparation to change his world forever, he stretched his arms forward, unaware of the open bottle of Dr. Pepper next to the keyboard. Spike tried to grab the bottle before the contents spilled onto the keys, but it was all in vain. The fizzy liquid swept over the keys, causing the computer to crash, thus ending this fan fiction.