My Little Transvestite
“Oh, Brad!” she wails distressedly, placing the back of one hand to her forehead. (“Answer her, Asshole!” yells a chorus of distant voices.) “Where are we?"
Brad stares out into the technicolor distance with a deadly serious expression on his face for a moment before replying. "I wish the answer was that simple, Janet. I think we've gone... to another planet!” (“Janet!”) “Or maybe another universe!"
Janet takes her hand off of her forehead and places it over her mouth in an expression of shock. “Another universe?” (“Sluts don’t know metaphysics!”)
Their surroundings had changed from gloomy to colorful, but the pair’s troubles were, unfortunately, not over just yet. (“Fuck, he’s STILL got no neck!”) Another place... another world. And not just any world! A world completely strange, utterly bizzare, unreachable by any airplane or spaceship. And, as the fortune-cursed couple were about to find, they were not the only ones to have been misdirected to this, shall we say, magical land... of Equestria.
“Virgin ground!” some of the voices cheer. “Not for long!” the rest yell back.
“My little pony, my little pony!” they shout-sing in unison. “Hey, Janet! Now’s your chance for some horse-cock!”
Celestia’s sun is shining down on a beautiful day in Ponyville, as usual. However, the birds aren’t chirping this time—they’re all staring, or hiding, and so is the rest of the town. A figure easily a foot taller than even the largest of ponies is striding through the town square on two pale, hairless legs. Fishnet stockings hang by garter belts from the skimpy excuse for a garment barely covering the human’s pride. Discarded on the ground behind him is the shredded, soaking wet remains of a white dress.
“Well he-llo,” the scantily-dressed man says in a deep, slightly singsong voice. “What have we here?”
What he has here is a discarded flyer on the ground. The human bends elegantly at the hips to pick up the piece of paper. Behind him, mothers quickly usher their fillies away from windows and draw their curtains.
His heavily made-up eyes and lips form a twisted grin as he reads. “A party? Well, I wouldn’t dare miss an event at a store with a delicious name like Sugarcube Corner.”
The human’s red lips shine slightly in the full daylight as he takes a deep breath of sun-soaked air. It’s not Transsexual, Transylvania, no. It’s not even a place where he can expect a decent dark and stormy night. And yet, something about this place sends a tingle of excitement through some very nice places on Frank N. Furter’s body.
...Of course, it was easy enough to find Sugarcube Corner. (“But not your fucking neck!”) All Frank had to do was follow the (“What’s Frank doing in there?”) deep pounding of the party’s music. The ponies inside were too busy (“TAKING DEEP POUNDINGS!”) dancing and socializing to look out of the windows. If they had looked, they would have seen the muscular bipedal figure strutting smoothly towards them on his high stilletto heels. The twisted smile on the alien stranger’s face would have provided a hint of what kind of day the partygoers were in for, but unfortunately, nopony looked out the window, and so nopony saw what they had coming. Now, the alien was inside (“I bet!”) and free to wreak his unique brand of havoc upon this tiny pony town.
Janet clings close to Brad as the two walk down Ponyville’s completely empty main path. “It’s such a strange place,” she murmurs. “Oh, why can’t we just go home?”
“Don’t worry, Janet. I’m sure the locals are friendly,” Brad says with an unconvincing smile. (“She sure made friends last time!” comes the taunting reply.) “Let’s just find someone to ask directions from and—”
“Brad!” Janet exclaims, suddenly grabbing Brad’s arm. (“Answer her, asshole!”)
Brad turns around to answer her, but his mouth just hangs open when he sees the little local that surprised Janet so much. A little lavender unicorn with a ragged purple mane and a wild look in her eyes is charging down the dirt path towards Brad and Janet.
“I knew it! You two owe Ponyville some answers! What are you and where did you come from?” She whips her head between Brad, then Janet, then back to Brad, trying to glare at both of them at once. “No, don’t answer that, it’s not important! What’s more important is—” Her eyes suddenly narrow, she jabs a forehoof into Brad’s stomach—
(”What do you CLOP to?”) “What are you UP to?”
“We just want to go home!” Janet whimpers.
“Good!” Twilight snaps, taking a step back and running a forehoof through her frayed, chaotic mane and only managing to make an even worse mess of it. “You can take the other one with you when you go!”
“Other one?” Brad asks, perplexed. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! Another one of you! And yes, I’m sure! Your magical signatures are a clear match, and your species’ physical features make it completely obvious!”
(“Features like tiny dicks!” some of the onlookers yell. “Speak for yourself!” the rest of them retort.)
“Who could that be?” Brad wonders out loud.
“I don’t know, but it’s another one of you, and she—he—IT is driving half the town insane with some kind of magic!” Twilight paces agitatedly back and forth in front of Brad and Janet, staring at the ground as she rapidly mutters to herself. “All right. All right! Think, Twilight. I couldn't fight his mind magic with mine, because he’s not a pony. If I could just jury-rig a constructive wave adaptation effect... Ha!” She stops pacing with a triumphant smile.
“I’ll take an ad hoc imprint of your xenotropic thaumato-psychic profile during the secondary channeling phase!" She says, pointing her horn rather worryingly at Brad's face. "That should make a similar astral pattern coalesce when I manifest the Libido Pacifier spell!” With that clarification in place, Twilight starts off down the main road.
“Hurry up!” she snaps over her shoulder after a few steps. “Weren’t you listening? I need you for the spell! Let's go!”
Twilight glances back at Brad and Janet every few seconds, to make sure they're following. The group gets close enough to hear the thumping bass of the party’s music when another figure trots up to meet Twilight.
“I found the other two aliens, just like you said, Zecora!" Twilight pants. "What’s the situation like back inside? Are my friends still immune to the libido pacifier spell?”
Zecora’s grimaces, and a strange shadow crosses her dark eyes. “It is astounding,” she murmurs. “Time is fleeting.”
“You don’t mean...” Twilight says, her eyes widening in horror.
Zecora just nods. “Madness takes its toll.”
Twilight draws up close to Zecora as they head towards Sugarcube Corner. Their pace reaches nearly a full gallop and the two humans are barely able to keep up. “Is there anything we can—”
Zecora doesn’t let her finish. “Just... listen closely,” she stammers. “Not for very much longer...” As the group approaches Sugarcube Corner, the wise zebra’s eyes start to change. A spark of gleeful insanity slowly grows within her deep pupils.
Twilight gasps as they come to a stop in front of the party’s front door. “You’ve got to keep control!”
But it’s too late. Zecora breaks from the party and charges straight for Sugarcube Corner, howling like a lunatic as the doors burst open and a flood of pony pours into the streets. The thundering of hooves is drowned out by the blare of a rousing rock piano tune, courtesy of two huge speakers levitating above the crowd.
The gyrating throng cheers as the pair of six-foot-tall monstrosities come to a landing on either side of a band dressed in bizzare glam-goth wear. Vinyl Scratch sits behind a multi-tiered synthesizer, with her mane done up in huge spikes and one of the lenses of her glasses tinted bright poison-green. Lyra Heartstrings, rearing and holding an electric guitar in her hooves, sports a biker vest glittering with chains and studs. Finally, Octavia is there, plucking at an electric bass. Her bow-tie has been replaced with a spiked collar, and her usually precise makeup is an overdone disaster of running eyeliner and deep eyeshadow.
Vinyl Scratch plays a glissando as the band’s singer streaks down from the sky, leaving behind a shimmering six-colored contrail. A microphone stand slides of its own accord into position as Rainbow Dash flips out her frayed mane and gives her high-necked vampire cape a toss. The dancing ponies whoop with uncontained energy as Dashie trots up to the mic and blares the first lines in her distinctive scratchy soprano.
I remember
Doing the time warp!
Drinking those moments when—
Rainbow Dash’s voice drives the pony mob into a bouncing, prancing frenzy. A burgundy-colored earth pony with a bunch of grapes for a cutie mark staggers haphazardly through the ranks, rearing in front of Rainbow Dash to steal the next few lines:
The blackness would hit me
And the void would be calling...
She places a hoof to her forehead and pretends to faint so that she falls right into Rainbow Dash, who catches her with an extended foreleg and a mischevious smirk.
And then—
“That’s him!” Twilight cries, leveling her horn at the figure emerging from the doorway.
“It’s HIM!” Janet gasps.
Frank N. Furter places his hands on his hips and purses his lips, posing for the cheering audience. The massive gemstones studding the complex layers of Frank’s new purple and red dress gleam in the late afternoon sun.
Twilight’s horn ignites, but before she can fire, the surrounding ponies all rear up and sing the chorus in unison:
LET’S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!
From behind Frank barrels a pink pony. Colorful bodies are popped into the air as Pinkie Pie blasts her way through the crowd, skidding to a halt in front of Twilight and her two human companions. The many ornaments in her already chaotic mane—stars, planets, and a few rather lewd shapes—sparkle as Pinkie bounces to the beat.
“It’s just a jump to the left!” She chirps. A single thunderous hoof-fall sounds as the ponies all hop once in unison.
“And then you trot to the si-i-ide!” the crowd returns as they all shuffle towards Twilight and company, shaking their plots and whipping their manes.
“Hooves on somepony’s hips!” Pinkie calls out. Everypony around starts to mill about, organizing themselves into rows. Twilight recoils, an expression of terror growing on her face as she starts to realize what comes next...
“Now spread your hind legs wi-i-ide!” Pinkie sings, and every pony in the crowd mounts up on the pony in front of them, forming concentric conga lines encircling the trio.
“And do the PELVIC THRUST!”
Which is what they do. All around them, all Brad and Janet can see is rows upon rows of wildly humping ponies, long chains of ponies pelvic-thrusting at each other with gleeful enthusiasm. Not all of it is dry-humping, either. Janet places a hand to her mouth in embarrassment as she sees two stallions, one behind the other, start to—
“...That really drives you insa-a-aaane!” The conga lines all sing, as they collapse into piles of laughing, cuddling pony bodies. After only a few seconds, though, every last pony head perks up from the ground, just in time for the next line:
“Let’s do the time warp again!”
Twilight prepares to take advantage of the fact that the living walls between her and her target are down, but this time her shot is blocked by a fellow unicorn trotting gracefully down the steps. Rarity flashes blindingly in the light—she’s laced her coat and mane with sequins from head to tail, and she’s wearing a short golden cape that flaps in the light breeze.
It’s so dreamy
oh fantasy free me
At the words “free me,” she gives a kind of twirl, letting the words out with an exaggerated trill that manages to be both elegant and melodramatic.
So you can’t see me
no not at all
From behind Rarity peeks a yellow head with a pink and black striped mane. Fluttershy sings, but she almost can’t be heard over the ruckus.
In another dimension
with voyeuristic intention
Fluttershy weaves a delicate flight-path between Rarity and Frank, finally settling where she can peek out from behind the billow of Frank’s dress. Frank’s hand comes to a rest in her mane, and a disturbingly sweet smile crosses the usually demure pegasus’s features.
well secluded, I see all...
Her eyes narrow as she sidles up against Frank. In front of them crosses a brown-on-brown earth pony, taking a place in front of Rainbow Dash’s mic. Rainbow Dash herself is too busy dancing with an unsteady but enthusiastic Berry Punch.
with a bit of a mind flip
you’re into the time slip
He makes a long, slow sliding motion to the side, flashing his hourglass cutie mark as he does.
and nothing can ever be the sa—!
He’s cut off in the middle of the last word by a grey cannonball from left field. Derpy hurriedly disentangles herself from Whooves and lunges for the mic, then holds it with all four hooves as she takes the next lines from an upside down, sprawled position:
Spaced out on sensation...
Like you’re under sedation!
The mic screeches with feedback as Derpy yells out the last line, and is promptly trampled by the bustling ensemble.
LET’S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!”
Derpy wafts back up from underfoot, flying drunkenly and still clutching the mic. Her voice is overpowered by the ensemble roaring in unison.
LET’S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!
Still bouncing and bustling to the beat, the ponies part to make a corridor for Pinkie to strut rhythmically through.
Well I threw an awesome party that went into a spin
When a guy burst in with a wicked grin
Pinkie’s spotlight doesn’t last long this time, as she is soon upstaged by Applejack, who has swapped her workwear for a vest and top hat that sparkle bright yellow.
Y’all shoulda seen everypony jump in surprise
At his upright stance and those MIGHTY THIGHS
Applejack strikes a pose in front of an aghast Twilight, angling her head teasingly and giving a suggestive wink. She whips her loosely tied mane and tail to the last lines of the song before the chorus takes over.
He stared at me and I felt a change
Time meant nothing, never would again
Five Elements of Harmony emerge from the crowd and converge on Twilight and her tiny island of sanity. Above them all, still overseeing the show from Sugarcube Corner's doorway, is Frank N Furter, twirling and posing in his custom-made, gem-studded dress.
LET’S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!
And this time there is nothing dry about the delirious, frenzied humping that happens. Rarity lunges for Fluttershy, Applejack tackles Rainbow Dash out of the air, Pinkie falls onto Rarity and Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash tries to drag Twilight to join the rest of the group. Throughout the entire pony mob, similar scenes are taking place. The smell of living bodies in motion starts to get so pungent that even the humans can smell it, when suddenly...
“This ends here, Frank N. Furter!”
A powerful voice echoes off of the sky itself, drowning out everything—the music, the singing, even the lewd moans of ponies caught in the throes of insanity.
Frank gives a twisted grin in response. “Celestia? Princess Celestia? Is that you? To what do I owe...” He puts his hands back on his hips as he throws a sultry look up to the heavens. “...the pleasure?”
The heavens don’t exactly answer. Instead, a wave of white power surges through the streets of Ponyville. It wipes away makeup, sweeps up glitter and other messes, and generally returns peace to the town.
Twilight forces a relieved smile as she watches a force of magic far beyond her own do its cleansing work. Still, as the world fades to white, she can’t help but mutter, “I didn’t get to try out the xenotropic libido pacifier...”
The light fades, and Brad and Janet find themselves standing in a circular chamber with a sun-shaped emblem emblazoned on the ground. There are no windows or doors, but the six foot tall winged unicorn standing in front of them leaves little doubt as to how they got there.
“I’m sorry that you had to see that,” Princess Celestia sighs. Would that your brief stay in Equestria could have been less... chaotic.”
“Equestria? Is that what this place is called?” Janet asks.
“Never mind that. You will soon be home. I know your travels have been long and difficult, and you have earned a rest.”
“But what have you done with Frank?” Brad presses.
The audience is speechless for a moment. Then a few of them mutter, “Oh god no.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m taking care of him personally.” (“Oh god NO!”)
Princess Celestia turns her back on Brad and Janet as her magic fills the chamber. Just before the glow becomes blinding, Janet thinks she sees a smudge of red lipstick next to Princess Celestia’s left cutie mark....
“...Just a sweet transvestite...” Pinkie hums to herself, pushing the broom across the floor to the beat of a song that only she can hear. There’s still a single obscenely shaped ornament stuck in her mane, tucked away within that mess of curls so that nopony need know that it’s there. Once in a while, Pinkie glances out the window and up at the sky, wondering what sorts of worlds might lie beyond...
With a long, sorrowful sigh, Pinkie finishes sweeping and turns off the lights before heading upstairs.