A View To A Class
The class of colts and fillies watched with wide-eyed stares as a strange, furless biped walked into their classroom and stood in front of miss Cheerilee's blackboard.
"Hello." said the strange creature. "I'm, a human from another distant universe and today, I'm gonna be filling in for your miss Cheerilee and teaching you all the ways of, well, whatever it is you'd really like to know, I can teach ya. Everything except backgammon, I never really understood the rules. I also can't teach you sex, because you're ponies, and it'd be weird. Well, not for me, I don't really care about pony sex, but then I don't know about pony sex. Never really had to think about pony sex before. I think about monkey sex. And I don't think you do, so, let's not discuss monkey sex today. Any questions?"
Scootaloo gulped and held up a hoof.
"You, miss...?"
"Um, Scootaloo. I was wondering... who are you, exactly?"
The biped pointed at Scoots. "There, that's a legitimate question from a sapient being. Who am I? Who is this being that you've never seen before and now stands before you, and more importantly, how does that being make you feel? You'll see, I don't have fur like you do. Instead, I wear clothes. That is my sign of authority. That is what gives me power, because the clothes, as your miss Rarity would tell you, are made of leather, which is dried-up skin. So in effect, I'm wearing the thing that used to make other animals warm. They were defeated, and now I wear their... stuff. And I'm in charge. My name's Christopher Walken."
Picking up some chalk with his fingers, Walken drew a triangle on the blackboard and tapped on the top. "See, I'm there. And you're down here. I'm the power in this classroom and that will obviously introduce a lot of negative energy, because I don't trust you. For all I know, you could all be plotting my demise. Or putting sharp pins underneath my seat. Have you had pins under your seat? Very painful experience. Very humiliating. But we must overcome this energy, we must!" The biped hit the table with his fist.
"I propose an exchange of goods. Trading, is, a traditional offering of peace, and reason. It's the fundament of our economy, our democracy. Well, my democracy, you guys have the princess. But it's never too late to change things up a bit. I offer you my knowledge, and knowledge as you know, is power. In short, I'm offering you a gateway to total and complete success. And the only thing that can equal this power is utter, devoted attention and belief in that what I'm saying, is true. Now, as an intelligent and reasonable being, I understand, I know that faith is a hard thing to buy. And I don't wanna be the Devil here, but great power comes only... with great sacrifice. No matter what you do, you will never get back the 45 minutes of school time you're spending in the classroom with me. So what'll it be?"
Blink. Blink.
Diamond Tiara cleared her throat. "W-we were supposed to learn about syllables today?"
Christopher Walken immediately scooted over to her table, and she and Silver Spoon both backed away as far as possible from the gleaming eyes of the creature. "We are on the same wavelength, you and me. I'm feeling it. The transformation is taking place."
"T-transformation?" Tiara mumbled.
"Of YOUUUUUU!" Walken screamed in her face. "You, are changing! Evolving before our, very eyes. Every facet of your being is wide awake and learning and building the memory of a new experience inside your brain. Anyway, syllables are a unit of pronounciation that have one... vowel... word. You are never going to forget that, not ever, I want you to promise me. What's a syllable?!"
Diamond Tiara gulped. "It's a unit of pronounciation that have one vowel word, sir!"
"Who caaaares? You'll never do anything with it anyway." Walken dashed off back to the board and Tiara breathed an audible sigh of relief. "So, anyway, we have this pyramid up here... " he taps on the drawing on the blackboard. "I don't know where it came from, but we have it in our universe now. Whatta we gonna do with that? Cause that ain't a crummy syllable, that's a freaking pyramid. They used to bury people in those!"
Sweetie Belle raised her hoof, and the biped pointed at the unicorn. "You, I like you, you're polite, ya raised a hoof. What is it?"
"Sir, um... that's a triangle. Not a pyramid."
Confused, Walken turned around and looked at the blackboard. "That? A triangle?" Sweetie Belle nodded. "No, it's not. It's a pyramid. We're only seeing it from one side."
"And the side of a pyramid is a triangle." The little unicorn insisted.
Walken chuckled softly. "I love fillies. Imaginative brains. But the boring truth is that a triangle's a triangle, and the side of a pyramid is just... the side... of a pyramid. And that, young lady, you can't play jingles with. Fucking jingles! Makes me so mad I wanna just dance it off. But I can't, because this is not a visual medium." He sighed. "And it makes me sad."
Apple Bloom tentatively raised a hoof.
"Yellow?"
The earth pony smiled politely. "Um, mr Walken, do you think maybe we could have an outdoors class? We haven't had one in a while."
Walken thought briefly, and then shrugged. "Okay. Sure. But, stay away from the ducks."
The class dutifully followed Christopher Walken outside of the schoolhouse. It was a fairly sunny day and Walken handed out a box of sunglasses to the colts and fillies. "My parents always taught me to be cool on a hot day." He explained. "The alternative is unpleasant, and also smells bad."
Walken led them back into the schoolhouse. "Okay, we're done now. This class has been joyful, and alive. I will tell miss Cheerilee you're all very... fluffy." He waved them goodbye. "Adios."