Hello all. I've been intermittently working on a rewrite/continuation of an old green I was writing a long, long time ago, and I've decided that now is as good a time as any to start posting what I have. It was originally posted in May of 2018, in response to a prompt posted by another anon. The premise was a HiE scenario, in which Dale Gribble from King of the Hill was isekaied somehow into Equestria. It was fairly popular at the time, and I wound up writing quite a bit. I completed an entire story arc, and had a second arc that I planned on doing eventually. However, I kept putting it off, and well...time makes fools of us all. Eventually the thread 404'd and was forgotten.
I'm not sure how many people from that era are still around who would be interested in reading this, but every now and then I'll get asked about it, and I've been promising this rewrite for years now. A draft of the first few chapters was posted a few months ago in the writing thread, but I'm not sure how many people actually noticed.
In any case, I feel like it's better to give this story its own dedicated thread, as opposed to dumping massive amounts of text into the writing general. This will eventually end up on fimfiction, but since it originated on this site I feel like I would rather give you guys the first shot at reading it.
The current working title for this story is:
A Pocketful of Sand
Here is the archive of the original green:
https://mlpol.net/mlpol/archive/146529
While I feel like I've more or less got it hammered into a form fit for human consumption, this is still basically a work in progress. Comments/notes/criticism is appreciated. Also, as is the case with the rest of my threads, if my endless tripfagging and walls of text start getting annoying, feel free to tell me I'm a faggot, and I will stop posting, or move this to a more appropriate containment thread.
/mlpol/ - My Little Politics
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>>374307
1: The Grassy Knoll
My head was pounding. There was a smell of wild grass and flowers. Dew was soaking into my jumpsuit. I opened my eyes and squinted into bright sunlight.
Sunlight?
The last thing I could remember was the house I was fumigating. I had been tracking blatella germanica, the German cockroach, one of the most cunning creatures known to man. For hours our game of cat and roach had gone on, until finally I had the bastard cornered in the cellar. We faced off. I remember he'd waved his antennae in defiance, mocking me to the last. I admired his courage. I pulled the trigger of my spray wand and let him have it. Poison spewed forth, a thick miasma of toxic death, slowly filling up the basement. I could remember my head swimming, it had been getting harder to think straight. I'd turned to the side...I remembered seeing my reflection in a mirror...
My head throbbed again. The poison. That had to be it. I must have passed out from the fumes. It's happened before. Damn crafty roaches, always hiding in unventilated basements.
How did I get outside, though?
I sat up groggily. I was alone on a grassy knoll. Gentle hills rolling off in all directions, covered in wild grasses and flowers. There was no sign of the house, or of civilization of any kind. The sky was a deep blue, without the usual haze of pollution. This didn't look like any part of Arlen I'd ever seen.
I must be miles out in the country. Where am I? How did I get here?
I felt a chill run down my spine. What if it hadn't been an accident? What if that basement had been left unventilated on purpose? Whoever did this must have waited until I'd passed out, and then dragged me out to this meadow and left me for dead.
"The question is who," I said aloud. "And why?"
Was the roach behind it? No, that couldn't be. Blatella germanica was crafty to be sure, but not crafty enough to pull off something like this. Plus, there was the size difference. No, whoever did this had to be large enough and strong enough to carry a full-grown man. But what if the cockroach had an accomplice?
"Yes, it all makes sense..." I mused.
The roach's job had been to create a diversion. He would lure me down to the basement, where I would have no choice but to use poison. His partner would have sealed up the windows in advance. Then, when I'd passed out from the fumes--
I rose slowly to my feet, and took a closer look at my surroundings. The terrain was completely unfamiliar; as far as I could tell, I was in the middle of nowhere. I might have left Texas entirely. Somebody had wanted to get me out of the way, that much was certain, and they had gone to a lot of trouble to do it.
"So the real question is: who stands to gain from my disappearance?"
The Federal government was the obvious answer. Maybe a little too obvious. They had to know that I was getting close, but this was a bold move even for them. There had to be other parties involved.
I reached into the pocket of my jumpsuit, and frowned.
That's odd. Where are my smokes?
I felt in the other pockets. Nothing. I'd bought a whole carton the other day, and I knew for certain I'd had at least half a pack on me when I entered the house.
I felt my stomach tighten. The situation was even more dire than I'd thought. The Federal government, in collaboration with a roach and possibly other unknown parties, had conspired to maroon me in an unknown location without smokes. I could feel the early onset of panic: sweat breaking out on my forehead... heart palpitations... tunnel vision...
Calm down Gribble, you're trained for this...
I began to perform an ancient Indian breathing technique I'd learned from my friend John Redcorn. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out. In and out. Over and over again. John Redcorn said he used that technique on my wife all the time, and it always calmed her down. In and out. In and out. Slowly, steadily, I brought myself back from the precipice.
I stared out at the landscape once again. It was a warm, quiet afternoon. A light breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and far-off pine trees. It was a nice place here, quiet and tranquil. And yet, somewhere out there lurked a malevolent entity, an entity that had brought me to this place for some foul purpose, and deprived me of my smokes...
"Show yourself, you coward!!" I shouted, shaking my fist at the air.
"Uh...are you talking to me?"
I wheeled around at the sound of a young, feminine voice. I must still have been woozy from the poison, otherwise nobody could have gotten the drop on Dale Alvin Gribble. I looked around in confusion for the source of the voice, but could find no one. Was this some kind of telepathy? Were the government agents speaking directly into my mind?
"Uhhhh...hello?"
The voice came again. This time I looked down. I noticed a tiny white horse standing in the grass, looking up at me with a confused expression.
She was the strangest-looking horse I'd ever seen. On all four legs she barely stood as high as my knee. Her coat was white, but her mane and tail were pink and purple, done up in flowing curls. For some reason, looking at her made me think of a marshmallow. A small white horn protruded from the center of her forehead, possibly of alien origin.
She stared up at me, her enormous green eyes curious but unafraid. I stared back. Several uncomfortable seconds passed.
"Uh, my name's Sweetie Belle," she said finally. "What's yours?"
So, the horse can speak English. Interesting...
The horse was an extraterrestrial; there was no doubt about that much. Could she have been involved in my abduction? Looking at her, it seemed unlikely. But if there's one thing I've learned from my years as a professional bounty hunter, it's that you should never turn your back on a talking horse. Suddenly, I realized that she'd just asked me a question.
1: The Grassy Knoll
My head was pounding. There was a smell of wild grass and flowers. Dew was soaking into my jumpsuit. I opened my eyes and squinted into bright sunlight.
Sunlight?
The last thing I could remember was the house I was fumigating. I had been tracking blatella germanica, the German cockroach, one of the most cunning creatures known to man. For hours our game of cat and roach had gone on, until finally I had the bastard cornered in the cellar. We faced off. I remember he'd waved his antennae in defiance, mocking me to the last. I admired his courage. I pulled the trigger of my spray wand and let him have it. Poison spewed forth, a thick miasma of toxic death, slowly filling up the basement. I could remember my head swimming, it had been getting harder to think straight. I'd turned to the side...I remembered seeing my reflection in a mirror...
My head throbbed again. The poison. That had to be it. I must have passed out from the fumes. It's happened before. Damn crafty roaches, always hiding in unventilated basements.
How did I get outside, though?
I sat up groggily. I was alone on a grassy knoll. Gentle hills rolling off in all directions, covered in wild grasses and flowers. There was no sign of the house, or of civilization of any kind. The sky was a deep blue, without the usual haze of pollution. This didn't look like any part of Arlen I'd ever seen.
I must be miles out in the country. Where am I? How did I get here?
I felt a chill run down my spine. What if it hadn't been an accident? What if that basement had been left unventilated on purpose? Whoever did this must have waited until I'd passed out, and then dragged me out to this meadow and left me for dead.
"The question is who," I said aloud. "And why?"
Was the roach behind it? No, that couldn't be. Blatella germanica was crafty to be sure, but not crafty enough to pull off something like this. Plus, there was the size difference. No, whoever did this had to be large enough and strong enough to carry a full-grown man. But what if the cockroach had an accomplice?
"Yes, it all makes sense..." I mused.
The roach's job had been to create a diversion. He would lure me down to the basement, where I would have no choice but to use poison. His partner would have sealed up the windows in advance. Then, when I'd passed out from the fumes--
I rose slowly to my feet, and took a closer look at my surroundings. The terrain was completely unfamiliar; as far as I could tell, I was in the middle of nowhere. I might have left Texas entirely. Somebody had wanted to get me out of the way, that much was certain, and they had gone to a lot of trouble to do it.
"So the real question is: who stands to gain from my disappearance?"
The Federal government was the obvious answer. Maybe a little too obvious. They had to know that I was getting close, but this was a bold move even for them. There had to be other parties involved.
I reached into the pocket of my jumpsuit, and frowned.
That's odd. Where are my smokes?
I felt in the other pockets. Nothing. I'd bought a whole carton the other day, and I knew for certain I'd had at least half a pack on me when I entered the house.
I felt my stomach tighten. The situation was even more dire than I'd thought. The Federal government, in collaboration with a roach and possibly other unknown parties, had conspired to maroon me in an unknown location without smokes. I could feel the early onset of panic: sweat breaking out on my forehead... heart palpitations... tunnel vision...
Calm down Gribble, you're trained for this...
I began to perform an ancient Indian breathing technique I'd learned from my friend John Redcorn. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out. In and out. Over and over again. John Redcorn said he used that technique on my wife all the time, and it always calmed her down. In and out. In and out. Slowly, steadily, I brought myself back from the precipice.
I stared out at the landscape once again. It was a warm, quiet afternoon. A light breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and far-off pine trees. It was a nice place here, quiet and tranquil. And yet, somewhere out there lurked a malevolent entity, an entity that had brought me to this place for some foul purpose, and deprived me of my smokes...
"Show yourself, you coward!!" I shouted, shaking my fist at the air.
"Uh...are you talking to me?"
I wheeled around at the sound of a young, feminine voice. I must still have been woozy from the poison, otherwise nobody could have gotten the drop on Dale Alvin Gribble. I looked around in confusion for the source of the voice, but could find no one. Was this some kind of telepathy? Were the government agents speaking directly into my mind?
"Uhhhh...hello?"
The voice came again. This time I looked down. I noticed a tiny white horse standing in the grass, looking up at me with a confused expression.
She was the strangest-looking horse I'd ever seen. On all four legs she barely stood as high as my knee. Her coat was white, but her mane and tail were pink and purple, done up in flowing curls. For some reason, looking at her made me think of a marshmallow. A small white horn protruded from the center of her forehead, possibly of alien origin.
She stared up at me, her enormous green eyes curious but unafraid. I stared back. Several uncomfortable seconds passed.
"Uh, my name's Sweetie Belle," she said finally. "What's yours?"
So, the horse can speak English. Interesting...
The horse was an extraterrestrial; there was no doubt about that much. Could she have been involved in my abduction? Looking at her, it seemed unlikely. But if there's one thing I've learned from my years as a professional bounty hunter, it's that you should never turn your back on a talking horse. Suddenly, I realized that she'd just asked me a question.
>>374308
"My name is--"
I cut myself off. Until I knew more about what was happening, I needed to keep my true identity a secret.
"Shackleford. Rusty."
The little horse raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Shackleford? That's kind of a weird name."
She trotted a small circle around me, looking me up and down. Either she'd never seen an Earth man before, or she was looking for a place to implant a microchip. Or possibly a probe. Until I knew which it was, it was best to be on my guard.
"You don't look like a pony," she continued. "What are you exactly?"
So, she's a pony eh? Interesting...
"The pony is a subspecies of the equine," I mused out loud, stroking my chin. "Known for its diminuitve stature."
"Uh... yeah."
This exchange was followed by a long bit of awkward silence. I continued to stroke my chin and muse. A pony. I was pretty certain that ponies couldn't talk. At least... not on Earth. Could the same type of creature have evolved simultaneously on an alien world, and learned to speak English somehow?
The rabbit hole just keeps getting deeper and deeper...
Instinctively, I reached into my jumpsuit pocket, then remembered that my smokes were gone. I felt that twinge of anxiety creeping up on me again. If I didn't get some nicotine soon, this could go south fast...
I realized the pony was still watching me.
"Say, uh... Sweetie Belle, was it?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you know where I could buy some smokes around here?"
She wrinkled her nose in confusion.
"Smokes?"
"Yeah, you know, puff puff?" I held two fingers to my lips and pantomimed smoking a cigarette.
The horse stared blankly back at me.
"Cigarettes? Manitoba?"
I made the pantomime smoking gesture again. Sweetie Belle cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.
"You're really weird," she said.
She glanced over her shoulder. For the first time, I noticed the outline of a few buildings in the distance. There must be some kind of civilization nearby.
"Somepony in town might know what you're talking about," Sweetie Belle continued. "Do you live near Ponyville?"
Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Ponyville?"
I couldn't say I'd ever heard of the place. I knew there was a petting zoo in McMaynerbury called Ponyland, but somehow I didn't think that's what she was talking about.
"Is that anywhere near Arlen?" I asked carefully.
"Arlen? Um, I'm not sure. I don't think I know where that is."
"Arlen, Texas?"
"Texas? Is that in Equestria?"
"Equestria?"
Slowly, it began to dawn on me that I might be even further from home than I'd first thought. Maybe even as far as Oklahoma.
"I think... I may be lost," I said, slowly and carefully.
Sweetie Belle's face brightened.
"Oh, well, that's okay! I didn't think you looked like you were from around here. I can show you the way to Ponyville, if you want."
I gave the little pony one last suspicious appraisal, and decided to trust her for the time being.
"Alright," I said.
"Come on," she continued. "We'll go back to my clubhouse first. My friends might know about... what was that thing you wanted again?"
"Smokes?" I asked hopefully.
"Yeah, that. Anyway, my friends might know where you could find some."
"Okey dokey."
The little pony turned and trotted off through the grass, and I fell into step behind her.
"My name is--"
I cut myself off. Until I knew more about what was happening, I needed to keep my true identity a secret.
"Shackleford. Rusty."
The little horse raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Shackleford? That's kind of a weird name."
She trotted a small circle around me, looking me up and down. Either she'd never seen an Earth man before, or she was looking for a place to implant a microchip. Or possibly a probe. Until I knew which it was, it was best to be on my guard.
"You don't look like a pony," she continued. "What are you exactly?"
So, she's a pony eh? Interesting...
"The pony is a subspecies of the equine," I mused out loud, stroking my chin. "Known for its diminuitve stature."
"Uh... yeah."
This exchange was followed by a long bit of awkward silence. I continued to stroke my chin and muse. A pony. I was pretty certain that ponies couldn't talk. At least... not on Earth. Could the same type of creature have evolved simultaneously on an alien world, and learned to speak English somehow?
The rabbit hole just keeps getting deeper and deeper...
Instinctively, I reached into my jumpsuit pocket, then remembered that my smokes were gone. I felt that twinge of anxiety creeping up on me again. If I didn't get some nicotine soon, this could go south fast...
I realized the pony was still watching me.
"Say, uh... Sweetie Belle, was it?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you know where I could buy some smokes around here?"
She wrinkled her nose in confusion.
"Smokes?"
"Yeah, you know, puff puff?" I held two fingers to my lips and pantomimed smoking a cigarette.
The horse stared blankly back at me.
"Cigarettes? Manitoba?"
I made the pantomime smoking gesture again. Sweetie Belle cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.
"You're really weird," she said.
She glanced over her shoulder. For the first time, I noticed the outline of a few buildings in the distance. There must be some kind of civilization nearby.
"Somepony in town might know what you're talking about," Sweetie Belle continued. "Do you live near Ponyville?"
Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Ponyville?"
I couldn't say I'd ever heard of the place. I knew there was a petting zoo in McMaynerbury called Ponyland, but somehow I didn't think that's what she was talking about.
"Is that anywhere near Arlen?" I asked carefully.
"Arlen? Um, I'm not sure. I don't think I know where that is."
"Arlen, Texas?"
"Texas? Is that in Equestria?"
"Equestria?"
Slowly, it began to dawn on me that I might be even further from home than I'd first thought. Maybe even as far as Oklahoma.
"I think... I may be lost," I said, slowly and carefully.
Sweetie Belle's face brightened.
"Oh, well, that's okay! I didn't think you looked like you were from around here. I can show you the way to Ponyville, if you want."
I gave the little pony one last suspicious appraisal, and decided to trust her for the time being.
"Alright," I said.
"Come on," she continued. "We'll go back to my clubhouse first. My friends might know about... what was that thing you wanted again?"
"Smokes?" I asked hopefully.
"Yeah, that. Anyway, my friends might know where you could find some."
"Okey dokey."
The little pony turned and trotted off through the grass, and I fell into step behind her.
>>374307
Oooooh. Looking forward to read the full unredacted rewrite of Gale "Gribble" Dribble in Equestria
Enjoying it so far as I did back in 2018
/ 10
Oooooh. Looking forward to read the full unredacted rewrite of Gale "Gribble" Dribble in Equestria
Enjoying it so far as I did back in 2018
/ 10>>374309
2: Planet of the Ponies
Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Approximately 1600 hours
With each passing moment, my situation grows more dire. I have decided to keep a journal to record my thoughts. If you are reading this, I have no doubt been taken prisoner and/or killed. Please deliver this notebook to the Arlen Gun Club so that they may record my exploits for posterity, or failing that, to Mr. Hank R. Hill of Rainy Street. Arlen, TX. Earth. Milky Way Galaxy.
If you are an agent of the United States government, this journal is not about anything important. Please disregard everything it contains.
It has now been nearly 60 minutes since my last smoke. Already I can feel the madness taking hold. Soon I will be incapacitated beyond rational thought. It is only due to my extensive training as a licensed professional bounty hunter that I have managed to so far remain calm.
The small equine creature that greeted me has taken me back to her lair, a crudely constructed treehouse, where I was introduced to two creatures of the same species. The little yellow one calls herself "Apple Bloom," and her friend is "Scootaloo." The possibility that these may be assigned codenames has not escaped me.
I am a stranger in a strange land. I have seen no familiar landmarks, and no sign of human activity. My current location is unknown, though I now believe that I have left Earth entirely. Alien abduction is the most likely explanation, though I shouldn't rule out CIA wormhole technology.
Fortunately, my training allows me to project the appearance of perfect nonchalance. I don't think my tiny horse companions suspect that anything is amiss...
"What's he writin' about?" one of the little ponies, the one called Apple Bloom, whispered to Sweetie Belle. Sweetie shrugged helplessly.
"I don't know," she whispered back. "It looks important, though."
I ignored them both and continued scribbling furiously into my notebook. I could feel the early stages of nicotine madness coming on, and I knew I didn't have much time. Wherever I was, I knew that I might not make it out of this alive. I had to record my thoughts and observations while I still could.
"He's sweating an awful lot," observed a third pony, the little orange one with wings. Scootaloo. Sweetie Belle said nothing, but kept watching me with a concerned expression on her face.
"Uh, Mr. Rusty?" said Apple Bloom hesitantly. "Are you okay?"
I glared suspiciously at the three ponies for a moment, cupped a hand over the page so they couldn't read it, and continued scribbling:
These pony creatures resemble no form of extraterrestrial life with which I am familiar, and other than lost time, I have experienced no phenomena consistent with abduction. Also unusual is that these "ponies" have mastered the English language, and seem to possess technology similar to ours.
My hands were beginning to twitch uncontrollably; it was all I could do to keep my pen straight. I could feel a familiar queasiness in my stomach. My head was swimming. I noticed that Scootaloo was watching my movements closely. I felt the cold icy fingers of paranoia creeping up my spine. What was it about this one that was bothering me?
Suddenly, I remembered something I'd noticed earlier, and wrote hastily in my journal:
Observed that "Scootaloo" arrived at the treehouse on a scooter similar to the kind an Earth child might use. She was also wearing a crash helmet. Why would a race of four-legged creatures develop a mode of transport that would be so incredibly awkward for them to use? Why would a pony with wings need to use a scooter to get around in the first place? How did she get that helmet on? How did she get it off? I have more questions than answers.
Have I truly left Earth, as I suspect? Or have I traveled through time to some grim distant future, in which hyper-evolved ponies have risen up and slain their former masters?
Or, what if it's even simpler than that? What if I never left Arlen, but instead Arlen was invaded and rapidly terraformed by invaders from some far-off Planet of the Ponies?
The dizziness and nausea were getting worse. It was getting harder and harder to think. My hand was by now shaking uncontrollably, and I realized that writing was a wasted effort. I stuffed the notebook and pencil back into the pocket of my exterminator jumpsuit.
"Uh...Mr. Rusty?"
Sweetie Belle was watching me with concern. The little treehouse felt hot and stifling. I took off my baseball cap and wiped my brow; my hand came back soaked with sweat. I didn't have much time.
"Smokes..." I croaked out, my voice barely audible.
"Huh?" asked Scootaloo, wrinkling her brow in confusion.
"SMOKES!!"
I had meant that to be a sentence. It came out more like a girlish shriek. The three ponies stepped back in alarm.
"Wow, he looks really sick," Scootaloo remarked.
"Yeah..." Sweetie Belle sounded worried. "He's been talking about something called 'smokes' an awful lot. Do either of you know what those are?"
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo shook their heads.
I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. Things were looking bad. The three ponies had picked up on my weakness. If they were hostile, they could pounce at any second. In any event, it was clear that they didn't have any smokes.
I decided to make a break for the door. I stood up, doing my best to appear nonchalant. Unfortunately, I stood up too fast; my coordination was off. Also, I had forgotten I was in a treehouse built for very small ponies. My head slammed against the ceiling, and I collapsed backward through the door.
I tumbled head over heels and out into empty space. Suddenly, I was rolling down a flight of stairs. I saw blue sky above me, and then wood, then blue sky, then wood; over and over. Occasionally I caught glimpses of a treehouse getting further and further away.
2: Planet of the Ponies
Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Approximately 1600 hours
With each passing moment, my situation grows more dire. I have decided to keep a journal to record my thoughts. If you are reading this, I have no doubt been taken prisoner and/or killed. Please deliver this notebook to the Arlen Gun Club so that they may record my exploits for posterity, or failing that, to Mr. Hank R. Hill of Rainy Street. Arlen, TX. Earth. Milky Way Galaxy.
If you are an agent of the United States government, this journal is not about anything important. Please disregard everything it contains.
It has now been nearly 60 minutes since my last smoke. Already I can feel the madness taking hold. Soon I will be incapacitated beyond rational thought. It is only due to my extensive training as a licensed professional bounty hunter that I have managed to so far remain calm.
The small equine creature that greeted me has taken me back to her lair, a crudely constructed treehouse, where I was introduced to two creatures of the same species. The little yellow one calls herself "Apple Bloom," and her friend is "Scootaloo." The possibility that these may be assigned codenames has not escaped me.
I am a stranger in a strange land. I have seen no familiar landmarks, and no sign of human activity. My current location is unknown, though I now believe that I have left Earth entirely. Alien abduction is the most likely explanation, though I shouldn't rule out CIA wormhole technology.
Fortunately, my training allows me to project the appearance of perfect nonchalance. I don't think my tiny horse companions suspect that anything is amiss...
"What's he writin' about?" one of the little ponies, the one called Apple Bloom, whispered to Sweetie Belle. Sweetie shrugged helplessly.
"I don't know," she whispered back. "It looks important, though."
I ignored them both and continued scribbling furiously into my notebook. I could feel the early stages of nicotine madness coming on, and I knew I didn't have much time. Wherever I was, I knew that I might not make it out of this alive. I had to record my thoughts and observations while I still could.
"He's sweating an awful lot," observed a third pony, the little orange one with wings. Scootaloo. Sweetie Belle said nothing, but kept watching me with a concerned expression on her face.
"Uh, Mr. Rusty?" said Apple Bloom hesitantly. "Are you okay?"
I glared suspiciously at the three ponies for a moment, cupped a hand over the page so they couldn't read it, and continued scribbling:
These pony creatures resemble no form of extraterrestrial life with which I am familiar, and other than lost time, I have experienced no phenomena consistent with abduction. Also unusual is that these "ponies" have mastered the English language, and seem to possess technology similar to ours.
My hands were beginning to twitch uncontrollably; it was all I could do to keep my pen straight. I could feel a familiar queasiness in my stomach. My head was swimming. I noticed that Scootaloo was watching my movements closely. I felt the cold icy fingers of paranoia creeping up my spine. What was it about this one that was bothering me?
Suddenly, I remembered something I'd noticed earlier, and wrote hastily in my journal:
Observed that "Scootaloo" arrived at the treehouse on a scooter similar to the kind an Earth child might use. She was also wearing a crash helmet. Why would a race of four-legged creatures develop a mode of transport that would be so incredibly awkward for them to use? Why would a pony with wings need to use a scooter to get around in the first place? How did she get that helmet on? How did she get it off? I have more questions than answers.
Have I truly left Earth, as I suspect? Or have I traveled through time to some grim distant future, in which hyper-evolved ponies have risen up and slain their former masters?
Or, what if it's even simpler than that? What if I never left Arlen, but instead Arlen was invaded and rapidly terraformed by invaders from some far-off Planet of the Ponies?
The dizziness and nausea were getting worse. It was getting harder and harder to think. My hand was by now shaking uncontrollably, and I realized that writing was a wasted effort. I stuffed the notebook and pencil back into the pocket of my exterminator jumpsuit.
"Uh...Mr. Rusty?"
Sweetie Belle was watching me with concern. The little treehouse felt hot and stifling. I took off my baseball cap and wiped my brow; my hand came back soaked with sweat. I didn't have much time.
"Smokes..." I croaked out, my voice barely audible.
"Huh?" asked Scootaloo, wrinkling her brow in confusion.
"SMOKES!!"
I had meant that to be a sentence. It came out more like a girlish shriek. The three ponies stepped back in alarm.
"Wow, he looks really sick," Scootaloo remarked.
"Yeah..." Sweetie Belle sounded worried. "He's been talking about something called 'smokes' an awful lot. Do either of you know what those are?"
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo shook their heads.
I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. Things were looking bad. The three ponies had picked up on my weakness. If they were hostile, they could pounce at any second. In any event, it was clear that they didn't have any smokes.
I decided to make a break for the door. I stood up, doing my best to appear nonchalant. Unfortunately, I stood up too fast; my coordination was off. Also, I had forgotten I was in a treehouse built for very small ponies. My head slammed against the ceiling, and I collapsed backward through the door.
I tumbled head over heels and out into empty space. Suddenly, I was rolling down a flight of stairs. I saw blue sky above me, and then wood, then blue sky, then wood; over and over. Occasionally I caught glimpses of a treehouse getting further and further away.
>>374327
The back of my head connected with a rock or something as I hit the ground. Through my blurred vision I could see the heads of the three ponies poking out over the edge of the treehouse entrance.
"Uh, maybe we should get my sister."
Apple Bloom's voice floated through a fog of confusion as I struggled to maintain consciousness. Dimly I wondered who this "sister" might be. Had this been their plan all along? Now that they'd successfully incapacitated me with nicotine withdrawal, would the alien queen harvest my organs? Was this how the story of Dale Gribble was going to end?
I reached for my emergency cyanide pill, but then I remembered it was with my smokes. Then, I remembered that I didn't actually have an emergency cyanide pill. I had tried to order one, but there was some kind of problem with the international shipping. Damned internet.
Just my luck, isn't it?
My vision went black, and I remembered no more.
The back of my head connected with a rock or something as I hit the ground. Through my blurred vision I could see the heads of the three ponies poking out over the edge of the treehouse entrance.
"Uh, maybe we should get my sister."
Apple Bloom's voice floated through a fog of confusion as I struggled to maintain consciousness. Dimly I wondered who this "sister" might be. Had this been their plan all along? Now that they'd successfully incapacitated me with nicotine withdrawal, would the alien queen harvest my organs? Was this how the story of Dale Gribble was going to end?
I reached for my emergency cyanide pill, but then I remembered it was with my smokes. Then, I remembered that I didn't actually have an emergency cyanide pill. I had tried to order one, but there was some kind of problem with the international shipping. Damned internet.
Just my luck, isn't it?
My vision went black, and I remembered no more.
>>374328
3: They Live
When I came to, I was lying in a strange bed.
I didn't recognize the room, but it was definitely a human dwelling. There was no one else around. My head was still swimming. Disjointed images flickered rapidly through my head. Ponies. Flying saucers. Cockroaches as big as your fist.
The nicotine fit had unfortunately not subsided. I was sweating and experiencing mild convulsions. However, as far as I could tell, there was no sign of the three ponies or the treehouse.
"Was it a dream?" I wondered out loud.
I blinked and took another look at my surroundings. The place definitely had a rustic feel. The walls, floor and ceiling were all made out of wood, making the room feel more like the inside of a barn than a house. Everything had a weird "apple" motif to it. However, the furniture was definitely made for humans.
My mind was still hazy, but I tried to remember the details of the house I'd been fumigating. It was a place in East Arlen; the owner's name was Mrs. Rackley I think.
"Maybe she found me after I passed out and carried me upstairs," I mused.
Yeah, that made sense. This was probably the attic or something. I must have passed out from the poison, and the owner of the house came home and carried me up to a spare bedroom. All that stuff about ponies must have just been a gas-induced nightmare.
"Hah!" I laughed out loud. "Ponies riding scooters, building treehouses... I'd have to be crazy to believe something like that! Wait until the guys in the alley hear about this..."
I struggled into a sitting position and pushed back the thick quilt that someone had placed on top of me. I was still wearing my Dale's Dead Bug jumpsuit. I reached into the pocket for my smokes, but found it was empty.
Dang, looks like that part wasn't a dream.
My hat and glasses were on a side table.
"Maybe Mrs. Rackley has some smokes," I muttered as I rummaged around in the table's little drawer. No such luck it would seem. Oh well, I'd just have to grab the pack out of the Bugabago.
Before I could climb out of bed, however, I heard footsteps in the hall. Something about them didn't quite sound right. A bit more clippity-clop than I was used to.
If I didn't know better, I'd swear Mrs. Rackley was wearing horseshoes...
Slowly, the door creaked open, and in an instant the horror and paranoia was back. For instead of the haggard face of Mrs. Rackley, I saw a pony poking its head through the opening.
This pony was larger than the other three, but still much smaller than the kind I was used to. She had a blonde mane and her coat was the color of an orange creamsicle. For some reason she was wearing a cowboy hat.
Why would a pony need to wear a cowboy hat?
Something definitely wasn't right here. The pony and I stared at each other for several seconds, neither of us saying anything. Then, slowly, it began to dawn on me.
The house. The bed. The quilt. The hat. None of these things made sense for a pony to own. This wasn't a pony house. This was a people house. Or at least... it had been.
A slow chill ran up my spine. What kind of horror story had I woken up in? But I could no longer deny the evidence that was right in front of my eyes. None of it had been a dream. Arlen had been invaded by hostile, sentient, English-speaking ponies. Probably working with the roach, they had used my own poison gas to get me out of the way, and while I was unconscious... one of them had killed Mrs. Rackley and stolen her hat!
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THE PEOPLE WHO LIVE HERE?!?" I shouted.
Or at least, that's what I'd meant to say. It came out more like garbled gibberish; somewhere between a cough and a feminine shriek. Reflexively, I grabbed the quilt and pulled it up to shield myself.
The pony gave me a confused look, and then turned to address someone behind her in the hallway.
"Uh, can he talk?" she asked. "Or does he just make noise like that?"
The pony had an accent. She sounded like she came from down South somewhere.
By God, they're learning to mimic us! Clever girl...
"He can talk. Sorta."
One of the three smaller ponies from before, the one called Apple Bloom, trotted into the room, followed by her two friends. She spoke with the same accent, I noticed.
"At least, I've heard him say 'smokes' an awful lot," Apple Bloom added.
The larger one with the hat screwed up her face in confusion.
"Smokes? Now what in the hay is that?"
She approached me and put her face close to mine, looking me over.
"Just what sorta critter are you, anyway?" she asked. "You don't look like no kinda pony I ever seen."
Wait, if she killed Mrs. Rackley, why does it sound like she's never seen humans before?
Damned nicotine fit; I couldn't even think straight. It felt like there was a big piece of the puzzle that I was missing. I tried to climb out of the bed, but my balance was still off.
"My name is Rusty Shackleford," I mumbled. "I am on vacation--"
Somehow, I'd become entangled in the quilt. I lost my balance, and my head clonked against the hard wooden floor. An orange hoof pulled back the quilt, and the hat-wearing pony was now staring down at me, looking confused.
"Whatever he is, he don't seem too bright..."
I tried to stand up and speak, but my body would not obey my commands. I could only lie curled on the floor in a fetal position, twitching pathetically.
"Smooookes..." I croaked in a feeble voice.
The orange pony gave me a long, pitying look and turned once more to the smaller one.
"Wow, he's really sweatin'. Where did y'all say you found him again?"
"He was in the meadow a little ways outside Ponyville," said Sweetie Belle. "He said he was lost."
Sweetie stood with her front hooves on my chest, peering down at me with a worried look. Her breath smelled like sour hay and flowers.
"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked. "I think we really need to get him some smokes, whatever those are."
Apple Bloom trotted over.
"Have any idea what they are, Applejack?"
3: They Live
When I came to, I was lying in a strange bed.
I didn't recognize the room, but it was definitely a human dwelling. There was no one else around. My head was still swimming. Disjointed images flickered rapidly through my head. Ponies. Flying saucers. Cockroaches as big as your fist.
The nicotine fit had unfortunately not subsided. I was sweating and experiencing mild convulsions. However, as far as I could tell, there was no sign of the three ponies or the treehouse.
"Was it a dream?" I wondered out loud.
I blinked and took another look at my surroundings. The place definitely had a rustic feel. The walls, floor and ceiling were all made out of wood, making the room feel more like the inside of a barn than a house. Everything had a weird "apple" motif to it. However, the furniture was definitely made for humans.
My mind was still hazy, but I tried to remember the details of the house I'd been fumigating. It was a place in East Arlen; the owner's name was Mrs. Rackley I think.
"Maybe she found me after I passed out and carried me upstairs," I mused.
Yeah, that made sense. This was probably the attic or something. I must have passed out from the poison, and the owner of the house came home and carried me up to a spare bedroom. All that stuff about ponies must have just been a gas-induced nightmare.
"Hah!" I laughed out loud. "Ponies riding scooters, building treehouses... I'd have to be crazy to believe something like that! Wait until the guys in the alley hear about this..."
I struggled into a sitting position and pushed back the thick quilt that someone had placed on top of me. I was still wearing my Dale's Dead Bug jumpsuit. I reached into the pocket for my smokes, but found it was empty.
Dang, looks like that part wasn't a dream.
My hat and glasses were on a side table.
"Maybe Mrs. Rackley has some smokes," I muttered as I rummaged around in the table's little drawer. No such luck it would seem. Oh well, I'd just have to grab the pack out of the Bugabago.
Before I could climb out of bed, however, I heard footsteps in the hall. Something about them didn't quite sound right. A bit more clippity-clop than I was used to.
If I didn't know better, I'd swear Mrs. Rackley was wearing horseshoes...
Slowly, the door creaked open, and in an instant the horror and paranoia was back. For instead of the haggard face of Mrs. Rackley, I saw a pony poking its head through the opening.
This pony was larger than the other three, but still much smaller than the kind I was used to. She had a blonde mane and her coat was the color of an orange creamsicle. For some reason she was wearing a cowboy hat.
Why would a pony need to wear a cowboy hat?
Something definitely wasn't right here. The pony and I stared at each other for several seconds, neither of us saying anything. Then, slowly, it began to dawn on me.
The house. The bed. The quilt. The hat. None of these things made sense for a pony to own. This wasn't a pony house. This was a people house. Or at least... it had been.
A slow chill ran up my spine. What kind of horror story had I woken up in? But I could no longer deny the evidence that was right in front of my eyes. None of it had been a dream. Arlen had been invaded by hostile, sentient, English-speaking ponies. Probably working with the roach, they had used my own poison gas to get me out of the way, and while I was unconscious... one of them had killed Mrs. Rackley and stolen her hat!
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THE PEOPLE WHO LIVE HERE?!?" I shouted.
Or at least, that's what I'd meant to say. It came out more like garbled gibberish; somewhere between a cough and a feminine shriek. Reflexively, I grabbed the quilt and pulled it up to shield myself.
The pony gave me a confused look, and then turned to address someone behind her in the hallway.
"Uh, can he talk?" she asked. "Or does he just make noise like that?"
The pony had an accent. She sounded like she came from down South somewhere.
By God, they're learning to mimic us! Clever girl...
"He can talk. Sorta."
One of the three smaller ponies from before, the one called Apple Bloom, trotted into the room, followed by her two friends. She spoke with the same accent, I noticed.
"At least, I've heard him say 'smokes' an awful lot," Apple Bloom added.
The larger one with the hat screwed up her face in confusion.
"Smokes? Now what in the hay is that?"
She approached me and put her face close to mine, looking me over.
"Just what sorta critter are you, anyway?" she asked. "You don't look like no kinda pony I ever seen."
Wait, if she killed Mrs. Rackley, why does it sound like she's never seen humans before?
Damned nicotine fit; I couldn't even think straight. It felt like there was a big piece of the puzzle that I was missing. I tried to climb out of the bed, but my balance was still off.
"My name is Rusty Shackleford," I mumbled. "I am on vacation--"
Somehow, I'd become entangled in the quilt. I lost my balance, and my head clonked against the hard wooden floor. An orange hoof pulled back the quilt, and the hat-wearing pony was now staring down at me, looking confused.
"Whatever he is, he don't seem too bright..."
I tried to stand up and speak, but my body would not obey my commands. I could only lie curled on the floor in a fetal position, twitching pathetically.
"Smooookes..." I croaked in a feeble voice.
The orange pony gave me a long, pitying look and turned once more to the smaller one.
"Wow, he's really sweatin'. Where did y'all say you found him again?"
"He was in the meadow a little ways outside Ponyville," said Sweetie Belle. "He said he was lost."
Sweetie stood with her front hooves on my chest, peering down at me with a worried look. Her breath smelled like sour hay and flowers.
"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked. "I think we really need to get him some smokes, whatever those are."
Apple Bloom trotted over.
"Have any idea what they are, Applejack?"
>>374343
The big pony, whose name seemed to be Applejack, rubbed a hoof against her chin and stared through the window, lost in thought.
"No, I don't reckon I do," she admitted. "Granny Smith might know, but she and Big Mac went to Baltimare and won't be back for a week."
Her face lit up, and she stomped a hoof decisively against the floor.
"I know! Let's ask Twilight for help! If anypony 'round here would know what 'smokes' are, it'd be her."
The three smaller ponies looked up excitedly.
"Hey, yeah!" exclaimed Sweetie Belle, her hooves digging sharply into my sternum. "That's a great idea! Twilight knows about all kinds of weird stuff!"
"I'll run out and get her," Applejack was saying, as she headed for the door. "It's probably best if we keep him here for now. He looks like he could use some more rest, anyway."
She cast a worried glance over her shoulder.
"Y'all stay here and keep an eye on... uh, what did you say your name was again?"
"Sh-Shackleford. Rusty."
As I croaked out the words, Sweetie Belle suddenly realized she was still standing on my chest, and quickly stepped back.
"Right," said Applejack. "Mr. Rusty. Well, I'll be off then. Don't y'all go nowhere."
And with that, she turned and galloped off down the hall.
The big pony, whose name seemed to be Applejack, rubbed a hoof against her chin and stared through the window, lost in thought.
"No, I don't reckon I do," she admitted. "Granny Smith might know, but she and Big Mac went to Baltimare and won't be back for a week."
Her face lit up, and she stomped a hoof decisively against the floor.
"I know! Let's ask Twilight for help! If anypony 'round here would know what 'smokes' are, it'd be her."
The three smaller ponies looked up excitedly.
"Hey, yeah!" exclaimed Sweetie Belle, her hooves digging sharply into my sternum. "That's a great idea! Twilight knows about all kinds of weird stuff!"
"I'll run out and get her," Applejack was saying, as she headed for the door. "It's probably best if we keep him here for now. He looks like he could use some more rest, anyway."
She cast a worried glance over her shoulder.
"Y'all stay here and keep an eye on... uh, what did you say your name was again?"
"Sh-Shackleford. Rusty."
As I croaked out the words, Sweetie Belle suddenly realized she was still standing on my chest, and quickly stepped back.
"Right," said Applejack. "Mr. Rusty. Well, I'll be off then. Don't y'all go nowhere."
And with that, she turned and galloped off down the hall.
File (): 877B260094649980C8D706072902FEBE-1773865.mp4 (1.7 MB, Resolution:480x360 Length:00:00:36, exterminator.mp4) [play once] [loop]
I can't believe I didn't pay this any attention back then! Thank you Glim, this is fun!
Fun continuum as always. A splendid read and looking forward for more.
One small thing to nitpick as you wanted feedback, seams there is a word or sentence missing here, though I can't rule out not having the reading comprehension of Twilight and missing it.
>>374327
>My hands were beginning to twitch uncontrollably; it was all I could do to keep my pen straight.
One small thing to nitpick as you wanted feedback, seams there is a word or sentence missing here, though I can't rule out not having the reading comprehension of Twilight and missing it.
>>374327
>My hands were beginning to twitch uncontrollably; it was all I could do to keep my pen straight.
>>374344
4: Trust No One
I continued to drift in and out of consciousness, wandering alone across a twisted dreamscape. I saw my friends and family, toiling under their new four-legged candy-colored overlords. Arlen, my beloved hometown, stripped bare of its resources and converted into some kind of reverse petting zoo, where enslaved humans prance around for the amusement of ponies... ponies that strut around in our hats while we are forced to go bare-headed and nude...
In my brief moments of lucidity I heard snippets of voices. The ponies were no doubt discussing my fate as I lay helpless, writhing in smokeless agony.
"...don't know what to do..."
"...ain't seen nothin' like it..."
"...keeps talking about 'smokes'..."
Nothing was clear anymore. Part of me wished they would just finish me off and be done with it. Then suddenly I saw a vision, a blonde, beautiful goddess with a fantastic can. My wife, Nancy.
Nancy! Where are you, my love? What have these horrible ponies done to you?
No, I realized, I couldn't give up. I had to pull through and survive. My wife. My son. They needed me. Sure, I could probably trust my friend John Redcorn to look after them for a little while, but it wouldn't be fair to ask a man to spend the rest of his life taking care of another man's wife and son. Especially not in whatever grim pastel-colored hell the world had become. I had to pull through this. I had to fight.
I was already slipping back into the realm of dreams, but I forced myself to stay conscious. I tried to focus on the ponies' conversation. There might be something I could learn.
"...not quite sure what it is specifically, but he's definitely addicted to something."
My ears perked up. A new voice was speaking. Another female, this one sounded high and nasally. Bookish. Kind of a know-it-all.
"Can you do anythin' for him?"
That was Applejack speaking. The new voice hummed softly in response, as if deep in thought.
"I'm not sure," she admitted finally. "If we can find out a little more about what he's addicted to, I can probably transfer the addiction to something harmless; tree bark or asparagus or something."
"That might help..." mused Applejack.
"In the meantime I can cast a temporary spell that should give him some relief, and hopefully bring him out of this fever" the voice continued. "Once we get him conscious and speaking, we can ask him a little more about...what did he say they were called?"
"Smokes," chimed in Sweetie Belle from somewhere.
"Right. Smokes. Okay then. Here, uh, Mr. Rusty. Hold still."
Suddenly, I felt a warm sensation envelop my entire body. My brain had been running a mile a minute, but now it began to slow down, and my thoughts became more orderly. I felt... great, actually. The icy tendrils of nicotine withdrawal were melting away. Slowly, I opened my eyes.
"Oh, good, you're awake. Now you can tell me--"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" I screamed.
A new pony was standing over the bed, looking down at me with huge, bulbous eyes. Her coat was purple, the color of off-brand cough medicine, with a dark lavender mane that had a magenta stripe running through it. A single horn protruded from the center of her forehead, glowing with a malevolent aura.
I had no doubt about what she was planning to do next.
"Get away from me, you nasty alien!!" I cried, flailing my hands wildly. The pony sprang backward in alarm.
"Hey!" she exclaimed. "What in the name of Celestia--"
Recovering herself, she took a tentative step towards me again, then another, her horn still glowing.
I had no idea what she'd done, but somehow she'd cured my nicotine fit. Unfortunately for her, that would prove her undoing. I hadn't wanted to reveal my martial arts training just yet, but this pony had forced my hand.
"I WON'T LET YOU PROBE ME!" I shouted. "NEVER AGAIN!!! SHISHISHAW!!!!"
I sprang from the bed, aiming a karate chop that should have incapacitated the creature's horn. However, she suddenly vanished into thin air, reappearing about three feet to the right. My strike passed through the space where she'd been, throwing me off balance. I went to the ground, face-first, the full force of my karate chop connecting with the hardwood floor. My hand went numb, and I cried out in pain.
"What in Equestria are you trying to do?!?" the pony demanded. "You almost hit me!"
I rolled over on my back. She was standing off to the side, looking confused and annoyed. Applejack and the three smaller ones were nearby, looking just as confused.
"Teleportation..." I muttered. "Even the Russians haven't perfected that yet. Just what in the hell are you?"
I pulled myself slowly to my feet. The ceiling in here was lower than you'd expect in a human dwelling, I noticed, but not so low that I couldn't stand. I fell into a defensive stance, glowering at the purple horse.
"Now calm down, Mr. Rusty," Applejack interjected, "This here's my friend Twilight. She ain't here to hurt you, she's only tryin' to help--"
She tried to move in between me and the pony called Twilight, but as she did I noticed that horn beginning to glow again. I felt a tingling in my skin, and the hairs on my arm were standing on end.
"Not today, you bastards!"
4: Trust No One
I continued to drift in and out of consciousness, wandering alone across a twisted dreamscape. I saw my friends and family, toiling under their new four-legged candy-colored overlords. Arlen, my beloved hometown, stripped bare of its resources and converted into some kind of reverse petting zoo, where enslaved humans prance around for the amusement of ponies... ponies that strut around in our hats while we are forced to go bare-headed and nude...
In my brief moments of lucidity I heard snippets of voices. The ponies were no doubt discussing my fate as I lay helpless, writhing in smokeless agony.
"...don't know what to do..."
"...ain't seen nothin' like it..."
"...keeps talking about 'smokes'..."
Nothing was clear anymore. Part of me wished they would just finish me off and be done with it. Then suddenly I saw a vision, a blonde, beautiful goddess with a fantastic can. My wife, Nancy.
Nancy! Where are you, my love? What have these horrible ponies done to you?
No, I realized, I couldn't give up. I had to pull through and survive. My wife. My son. They needed me. Sure, I could probably trust my friend John Redcorn to look after them for a little while, but it wouldn't be fair to ask a man to spend the rest of his life taking care of another man's wife and son. Especially not in whatever grim pastel-colored hell the world had become. I had to pull through this. I had to fight.
I was already slipping back into the realm of dreams, but I forced myself to stay conscious. I tried to focus on the ponies' conversation. There might be something I could learn.
"...not quite sure what it is specifically, but he's definitely addicted to something."
My ears perked up. A new voice was speaking. Another female, this one sounded high and nasally. Bookish. Kind of a know-it-all.
"Can you do anythin' for him?"
That was Applejack speaking. The new voice hummed softly in response, as if deep in thought.
"I'm not sure," she admitted finally. "If we can find out a little more about what he's addicted to, I can probably transfer the addiction to something harmless; tree bark or asparagus or something."
"That might help..." mused Applejack.
"In the meantime I can cast a temporary spell that should give him some relief, and hopefully bring him out of this fever" the voice continued. "Once we get him conscious and speaking, we can ask him a little more about...what did he say they were called?"
"Smokes," chimed in Sweetie Belle from somewhere.
"Right. Smokes. Okay then. Here, uh, Mr. Rusty. Hold still."
Suddenly, I felt a warm sensation envelop my entire body. My brain had been running a mile a minute, but now it began to slow down, and my thoughts became more orderly. I felt... great, actually. The icy tendrils of nicotine withdrawal were melting away. Slowly, I opened my eyes.
"Oh, good, you're awake. Now you can tell me--"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" I screamed.
A new pony was standing over the bed, looking down at me with huge, bulbous eyes. Her coat was purple, the color of off-brand cough medicine, with a dark lavender mane that had a magenta stripe running through it. A single horn protruded from the center of her forehead, glowing with a malevolent aura.
I had no doubt about what she was planning to do next.
"Get away from me, you nasty alien!!" I cried, flailing my hands wildly. The pony sprang backward in alarm.
"Hey!" she exclaimed. "What in the name of Celestia--"
Recovering herself, she took a tentative step towards me again, then another, her horn still glowing.
I had no idea what she'd done, but somehow she'd cured my nicotine fit. Unfortunately for her, that would prove her undoing. I hadn't wanted to reveal my martial arts training just yet, but this pony had forced my hand.
"I WON'T LET YOU PROBE ME!" I shouted. "NEVER AGAIN!!! SHISHISHAW!!!!"
I sprang from the bed, aiming a karate chop that should have incapacitated the creature's horn. However, she suddenly vanished into thin air, reappearing about three feet to the right. My strike passed through the space where she'd been, throwing me off balance. I went to the ground, face-first, the full force of my karate chop connecting with the hardwood floor. My hand went numb, and I cried out in pain.
"What in Equestria are you trying to do?!?" the pony demanded. "You almost hit me!"
I rolled over on my back. She was standing off to the side, looking confused and annoyed. Applejack and the three smaller ones were nearby, looking just as confused.
"Teleportation..." I muttered. "Even the Russians haven't perfected that yet. Just what in the hell are you?"
I pulled myself slowly to my feet. The ceiling in here was lower than you'd expect in a human dwelling, I noticed, but not so low that I couldn't stand. I fell into a defensive stance, glowering at the purple horse.
"Now calm down, Mr. Rusty," Applejack interjected, "This here's my friend Twilight. She ain't here to hurt you, she's only tryin' to help--"
She tried to move in between me and the pony called Twilight, but as she did I noticed that horn beginning to glow again. I felt a tingling in my skin, and the hairs on my arm were standing on end.
"Not today, you bastards!"
>>374688
I took a sudden leap forward, startling Twilight just enough for me to break free of the aura of pink light that was encircling me. I made a dash for a nearby window, but before I could reach the latch, she recovered her concentration. I found myself trapped in some kind of alien tractor beam, levitating slowly into the air.
"Listen," said Twilight, "I don't know what's going on exactly, but I'm not trying to hurt you. If you could just hold still for a second--"
My right hand was still numb from the shock of hitting the floor, but I could move my left. I slipped it into the pocket of my jumpsuit, reaching for my secret weapon.
"That's it," said Twilight soothingly, taking a tentative step forward. "Nopony's trying to hurt you, now let's all just calm down and--"
As soon as the pony was in range, I suddenly let my hand fly with as much force as I could muster.
"Pocket sand!"
"Aaah! What the--"
Twilight reflexively moved her foreleg up to shield her eyes. The tractor beam broke, and I fell to the floor, landing in a crouch.
I cast a wary glare around the room. Twilight was blinking and rubbing sand out of her eyes. The other four were just standing there, looking stunned and a little frightened.
"We were just trying to help," stammered Sweetie Belle.
The tiny marshmallow-horse looked genuinely sorry, and for just a second I felt a little bad. Was this all just a misunderstanding? Could these creatures be friendly after all?
I gave my head a quick shake.
Snap out of it, Gribble! Whatever happened to 'trust no one?' Do you want to end up naked on some alien-horse-doctor's autopsy table?!?
"YOU'LL NEVER GET MY BRAIN!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, and they all took a surprised step back.
That was the chance I needed. I sprang for the window, and before any of the ponies had a chance to react, I pried back the latch and flung it open. I paused only long enough to snatch up my hat and glasses from the bedside table and to flash the alien invaders a triumphant grin. Then I scrambled out through the open window.
Unfortunately, the roof outside had a steeper slope than I'd been expecting. I immediately lost my footing, slid down the roof and collided face-first with the peaked roof of some kind of outbuilding underneath.
"Ow..."
I rolled down the roof of the outbuilding, landing on my back with a plop, in a puddle of what I really hoped was just soft mud. I could hear pigs grunting and squeaking in alarm.
Up above, Applejack's confused face poked out through the window I'd jumped from.
"Hey there!" she called out. "Mr. Rusty! Are you crazy? Get back up here before you hurt yourself!"
I realized that the element of surprise had only bought me a few precious seconds. I didn't have time to lie around here all day. The one called "Twilight" seemed pretty sharp for a talking horse; most likely she'd already sent for reinforcements.
I scrambled to my feet and stumbled forward as quickly as I could, but the mud was slowing me down. I was vaguely aware of Applejack calling out to me, but I don't know what she said. There was a white picket fence not far away, and on the other side was freedom. I focused my attention on that.
Once I made it over the fence I could move more quickly. I still had no idea where I was, but this was clearly a farm, and the layout was predictable. A front gate led out to a dusty unpaved road running in two directions. I didn't know which direction led where, but it didn't matter. Staying off the main roads when you're under enemy pursuit is pretty much Survival 101.
I dashed across the road and into a massive orchard of apple trees. I could hear hoofbeats behind me, still far away for now, but they would close the distance fast.
The surrounding countryside was hilly, and in the distance ahead I could see a thick forest beginning where the apple trees ended. My only hope was to make it to those woods and lose them inside. I took off at a sprint, pushing my body as hard as my poor, smokeless lungs would allow.
"Dammit," I wheezed as I ran. "Where am I? What is this place? Nothing makes sense anymore..."
I took a sudden leap forward, startling Twilight just enough for me to break free of the aura of pink light that was encircling me. I made a dash for a nearby window, but before I could reach the latch, she recovered her concentration. I found myself trapped in some kind of alien tractor beam, levitating slowly into the air.
"Listen," said Twilight, "I don't know what's going on exactly, but I'm not trying to hurt you. If you could just hold still for a second--"
My right hand was still numb from the shock of hitting the floor, but I could move my left. I slipped it into the pocket of my jumpsuit, reaching for my secret weapon.
"That's it," said Twilight soothingly, taking a tentative step forward. "Nopony's trying to hurt you, now let's all just calm down and--"
As soon as the pony was in range, I suddenly let my hand fly with as much force as I could muster.
"Pocket sand!"
"Aaah! What the--"
Twilight reflexively moved her foreleg up to shield her eyes. The tractor beam broke, and I fell to the floor, landing in a crouch.
I cast a wary glare around the room. Twilight was blinking and rubbing sand out of her eyes. The other four were just standing there, looking stunned and a little frightened.
"We were just trying to help," stammered Sweetie Belle.
The tiny marshmallow-horse looked genuinely sorry, and for just a second I felt a little bad. Was this all just a misunderstanding? Could these creatures be friendly after all?
I gave my head a quick shake.
Snap out of it, Gribble! Whatever happened to 'trust no one?' Do you want to end up naked on some alien-horse-doctor's autopsy table?!?
"YOU'LL NEVER GET MY BRAIN!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, and they all took a surprised step back.
That was the chance I needed. I sprang for the window, and before any of the ponies had a chance to react, I pried back the latch and flung it open. I paused only long enough to snatch up my hat and glasses from the bedside table and to flash the alien invaders a triumphant grin. Then I scrambled out through the open window.
Unfortunately, the roof outside had a steeper slope than I'd been expecting. I immediately lost my footing, slid down the roof and collided face-first with the peaked roof of some kind of outbuilding underneath.
"Ow..."
I rolled down the roof of the outbuilding, landing on my back with a plop, in a puddle of what I really hoped was just soft mud. I could hear pigs grunting and squeaking in alarm.
Up above, Applejack's confused face poked out through the window I'd jumped from.
"Hey there!" she called out. "Mr. Rusty! Are you crazy? Get back up here before you hurt yourself!"
I realized that the element of surprise had only bought me a few precious seconds. I didn't have time to lie around here all day. The one called "Twilight" seemed pretty sharp for a talking horse; most likely she'd already sent for reinforcements.
I scrambled to my feet and stumbled forward as quickly as I could, but the mud was slowing me down. I was vaguely aware of Applejack calling out to me, but I don't know what she said. There was a white picket fence not far away, and on the other side was freedom. I focused my attention on that.
Once I made it over the fence I could move more quickly. I still had no idea where I was, but this was clearly a farm, and the layout was predictable. A front gate led out to a dusty unpaved road running in two directions. I didn't know which direction led where, but it didn't matter. Staying off the main roads when you're under enemy pursuit is pretty much Survival 101.
I dashed across the road and into a massive orchard of apple trees. I could hear hoofbeats behind me, still far away for now, but they would close the distance fast.
The surrounding countryside was hilly, and in the distance ahead I could see a thick forest beginning where the apple trees ended. My only hope was to make it to those woods and lose them inside. I took off at a sprint, pushing my body as hard as my poor, smokeless lungs would allow.
"Dammit," I wheezed as I ran. "Where am I? What is this place? Nothing makes sense anymore..."
>>374688
Like the apprentice it now looks like Mr. Rusty is the new horn warmer.
>>374689
>the element of surprise
LOL The seventh element of harmony, or second element of chaos. He will fit right in.
Looking forward to the continuum. Great read as always, and sorry for taking so long getting around to read it.
Like the apprentice it now looks like Mr. Rusty is the new horn warmer.
>>374689
>the element of surprise
LOL The seventh element of harmony, or second element of chaos. He will fit right in.
Looking forward to the continuum. Great read as always, and sorry for taking so long getting around to read it.
>>374689
5: Alien Forest
Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Approximately 1800 hours
After my harrowing escape from Applejack's Farmhouse of Horrors and its surrounding orchards, I found myself in a deep forest. Due to my extensive training as a professional Bounty Hunter, I was able to give my pursuers the slip, and I no longer fear capture. However, the downside of this seems to be that I am now lost in unfamiliar terrain.
As I do not remember there being any forests of this size near Arlen, I have decided to continue assuming that I am on an alien world. The possibility that this could all be a sophisticated hologram has not escaped me, however I do not consider this likely.
I am still without food and without smokes. My ability to navigate by the North Star is useless as it is daytime. During my time in captivity, the pony called "Twilight" used some kind of weird alien power to cure my nicotine fits; however, I suspect the effects will be temporary. In a few hours time, I will once again be incapacitated for lack of smokes.
The situation remains dire. What awaits me is a battle between Man and Nature that will put my survival training to the ultimate test. I do not know which of us will emerge the victor.
If I do not return, I ask whoever finds this journal to please convey my love and regret to my wife, Nancy Hicks-Gribble, and to my son, Joseph Gribble. Please ask my good friend John Redcorn to look after them.
I was deep in the woods, the shadows around me growing longer as the sun veered sharply to the west. Thick undergrowth and gnarly trees, beginning to look more and more menacing in the fading light, closed in on me from all sides.
I stopped at a small brook to smear some mud on my face. This was an old Indian camouflage trick I'd learned from John Redcorn. By painting my face with mud, my skin will resemble tree bark. If a pony passes by, I can hold still with my arms in an upright position. Pony vision is based on movement, so I knew that as long as I didn't move a muscle, the pony would think I was a tree and keep walking.
Wait, is that ponies or bears?
I frowned, rubbing mud down the front of my jumpsuit and along the arms. Nearby, an owl hooted, followed by another one. A cicada was chirping in a bush somewhere off to my right. Night would be approaching soon.
No, I'm pretty sure it's ponies.
I grabbed several handfuls of sand and stuffed it into my pockets. Might as well reload while I had the chance. Then, I pulled some twigs off of a nearby branch and stuck it into the chest pockets of the jumpsuit, and into the wrist cuffs.
Yes, this disguise is perfect. These alien ponies have no idea who they're up against...
I heard a slight rustle in the leaves behind me. Instantly I froze, holding my arms upright like a saguaro cactus.
"Mr. Ruuuuuuuusty! Helloooooo! Jeez, where did he go?"
I recognized that voice. It was the little pony I met first, the one called Sweetie Belle.
Damn, even with my wilderness skills she still managed to track me. I don't think I'm dealing with amateurs here.
That little pony clearly wasn't as harmless as she looked. Plus, she had one of those horns, too; I couldn't overlook the possibility that she might try and probe me. She was pretty tiny, so I was confident I could take her if she was on her own. However, if she had her friends with her...
No, better to just remain in disguise for now. Violence only as a last resort.
I held still, perfectly rigid, arms upright. I tried to empty my mind and become one with nature, just like John Redcorn had taught me.
I am a tree...
The underbrush rustled just head of me, and a moment later a little white unicorn stepped through. She stared at me for several seconds. I held perfectly still.
"Uh, what are you doing?"
That was probably a ploy. My disguise was perfect, so I knew she couldn't see me, but she most likely could sense that I was nearby. I wasn't about to allow her to lure me out. I continued to hold perfectly still.
She stared at me for several more seconds. She raised one of her eyebrows, and then it went back down. Finally, she sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.
"Look," she said. "We don't have time for... whatever this is. You need to come with me right now, it's not safe out here."
Heh. Like I'd really fall for a simple trick like that.
I continued to hold perfectly still.
I am a tree...
"Look, Applejack carried you alllll the way back to the farmhouse, and then allllll the way upstairs, and then Twilight came allllllll the way out to Sweet Apple Acres just to help cure you of your... your smoke disease, or whatever it was. And all you did was throw sand in her face and then jump out the window and run away! I've never been so embarrassed in my life!"
She glared at me, but when I didn't respond, she just sighed heavily again.
"You're a really weird guy, Mr. Rusty," she said. "Anyway, you need to come back with me right now, and apologize to Applejack and Twilight."
I am a tree...
She grunted.
"Right now as in... right now?"
I am a tree...
Sweetie Belle sighed, rolled her eyes, and then trotted around behind me. I felt her little head pushing against the backs of my legs as she tried to nudge me forward.
Won't work. I am a tree...
For an extraterrestrial, she didn't seem all that strong. After pushing at me for a few seconds and getting nowhere, she gave out an exasperated grunt and then trotted away, muttering to herself.
Heh, looks like I foiled her. You have to get up pretty early in the morning if you want to get one over on a Gribble...
5: Alien Forest
Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Approximately 1800 hours
After my harrowing escape from Applejack's Farmhouse of Horrors and its surrounding orchards, I found myself in a deep forest. Due to my extensive training as a professional Bounty Hunter, I was able to give my pursuers the slip, and I no longer fear capture. However, the downside of this seems to be that I am now lost in unfamiliar terrain.
As I do not remember there being any forests of this size near Arlen, I have decided to continue assuming that I am on an alien world. The possibility that this could all be a sophisticated hologram has not escaped me, however I do not consider this likely.
I am still without food and without smokes. My ability to navigate by the North Star is useless as it is daytime. During my time in captivity, the pony called "Twilight" used some kind of weird alien power to cure my nicotine fits; however, I suspect the effects will be temporary. In a few hours time, I will once again be incapacitated for lack of smokes.
The situation remains dire. What awaits me is a battle between Man and Nature that will put my survival training to the ultimate test. I do not know which of us will emerge the victor.
If I do not return, I ask whoever finds this journal to please convey my love and regret to my wife, Nancy Hicks-Gribble, and to my son, Joseph Gribble. Please ask my good friend John Redcorn to look after them.
I was deep in the woods, the shadows around me growing longer as the sun veered sharply to the west. Thick undergrowth and gnarly trees, beginning to look more and more menacing in the fading light, closed in on me from all sides.
I stopped at a small brook to smear some mud on my face. This was an old Indian camouflage trick I'd learned from John Redcorn. By painting my face with mud, my skin will resemble tree bark. If a pony passes by, I can hold still with my arms in an upright position. Pony vision is based on movement, so I knew that as long as I didn't move a muscle, the pony would think I was a tree and keep walking.
Wait, is that ponies or bears?
I frowned, rubbing mud down the front of my jumpsuit and along the arms. Nearby, an owl hooted, followed by another one. A cicada was chirping in a bush somewhere off to my right. Night would be approaching soon.
No, I'm pretty sure it's ponies.
I grabbed several handfuls of sand and stuffed it into my pockets. Might as well reload while I had the chance. Then, I pulled some twigs off of a nearby branch and stuck it into the chest pockets of the jumpsuit, and into the wrist cuffs.
Yes, this disguise is perfect. These alien ponies have no idea who they're up against...
I heard a slight rustle in the leaves behind me. Instantly I froze, holding my arms upright like a saguaro cactus.
"Mr. Ruuuuuuuusty! Helloooooo! Jeez, where did he go?"
I recognized that voice. It was the little pony I met first, the one called Sweetie Belle.
Damn, even with my wilderness skills she still managed to track me. I don't think I'm dealing with amateurs here.
That little pony clearly wasn't as harmless as she looked. Plus, she had one of those horns, too; I couldn't overlook the possibility that she might try and probe me. She was pretty tiny, so I was confident I could take her if she was on her own. However, if she had her friends with her...
No, better to just remain in disguise for now. Violence only as a last resort.
I held still, perfectly rigid, arms upright. I tried to empty my mind and become one with nature, just like John Redcorn had taught me.
I am a tree...
The underbrush rustled just head of me, and a moment later a little white unicorn stepped through. She stared at me for several seconds. I held perfectly still.
"Uh, what are you doing?"
That was probably a ploy. My disguise was perfect, so I knew she couldn't see me, but she most likely could sense that I was nearby. I wasn't about to allow her to lure me out. I continued to hold perfectly still.
She stared at me for several more seconds. She raised one of her eyebrows, and then it went back down. Finally, she sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.
"Look," she said. "We don't have time for... whatever this is. You need to come with me right now, it's not safe out here."
Heh. Like I'd really fall for a simple trick like that.
I continued to hold perfectly still.
I am a tree...
"Look, Applejack carried you alllll the way back to the farmhouse, and then allllll the way upstairs, and then Twilight came allllllll the way out to Sweet Apple Acres just to help cure you of your... your smoke disease, or whatever it was. And all you did was throw sand in her face and then jump out the window and run away! I've never been so embarrassed in my life!"
She glared at me, but when I didn't respond, she just sighed heavily again.
"You're a really weird guy, Mr. Rusty," she said. "Anyway, you need to come back with me right now, and apologize to Applejack and Twilight."
I am a tree...
She grunted.
"Right now as in... right now?"
I am a tree...
Sweetie Belle sighed, rolled her eyes, and then trotted around behind me. I felt her little head pushing against the backs of my legs as she tried to nudge me forward.
Won't work. I am a tree...
For an extraterrestrial, she didn't seem all that strong. After pushing at me for a few seconds and getting nowhere, she gave out an exasperated grunt and then trotted away, muttering to herself.
Heh, looks like I foiled her. You have to get up pretty early in the morning if you want to get one over on a Gribble...
>>375190
Suddenly, I heard the sound of tiny galloping hooves approaching from behind. A moment later something tiny, hard and faintly sharp collided with the back of my knee. The knee buckled, and I lost my balance.
"Whoa..."
I wavered back and forth for a moment, and then fell face-first into the dirt. I rolled over onto my back. Sweetie Belle immediately hopped onto my chest and stood glaring down at me.
"There," she said. "Are you happy now? Come on, get up. We have to go back."
So, she got one over on a Gribble. I wonder what time she got up this morning?
"My disguise didn't even fool you for a second, did it?" I said out loud. She clambered off my chest and sat down on her haunches as I pulled myself to my feet.
She raised her eyebrow skeptically.
"Disguise? What were you pretending to be?"
I brushed myself off. The front of my jumpsuit was still caked in mud, but I could at least get rid of some of the pine needles.
"Doesn't matter. You're a worthy adversary, Sweetie Belle, I'll give you that much."
"Uh... thanks?"
Reflexively I reached for a smoke, and then remembered my situation. I felt a twinge of anxiety. Whatever "Twilight" had done to me was still working, but somehow I knew it wasn't going to last much longer. As soon as the craving set in, I'd be incapacitated again. Whatever else was going to happen, I needed to get myself some smokes.
Meanwhile Sweetie Belle was looking me up and down, taking in my mud-caked jumpsuit and the twigs stuffed into my cuffs and pockets. She sighed heavily for the third time.
"You're a really weird guy, Mr. Rusty," she said again. "Anyway, come on, we need to get going. You can't just wander around in the Everfree Forest by yourself, especially after dark. And the sun's going down soon."
She turned away from me, peering back into the underbrush she'd emerged from.
Heh, thought I'd been subdued and it was safe to let your guard down, eh? Well I've still got my secret weapon...
"Alright, let's see," she said, half to herself. "I think I remember which way we came in. If we just follow that path we should make it back to Sweet Apple Acres before sunset--"
"POCKET SAND!!"
As she turned back towards me, I unleashed a fresh round of the Gribble School's finishing technique, right into the little pony's face.
"Hey!" she protested. She stood blinking in confusion, rubbing her muzzle and spitting out sand. "Not again! Why do you keep doing that--"
"Shishishaw!"
I hissed triumphantly, and took off running into the woods.
"Hey, get back here!" she cried out behind me. "Didn't you hear what I said?!? Grrr!"
As I crashed through the woods, I could hear the sound of panting and tiny hooves galloping after me.
Damn, that is one tenacious little alien....
The shadows were getting longer, the light filtering through the canopy overhead getting thinner. If I could last until nightfall, darkness would give me the cover I'd need.
This alien horse had no idea who she was dealing with.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of tiny galloping hooves approaching from behind. A moment later something tiny, hard and faintly sharp collided with the back of my knee. The knee buckled, and I lost my balance.
"Whoa..."
I wavered back and forth for a moment, and then fell face-first into the dirt. I rolled over onto my back. Sweetie Belle immediately hopped onto my chest and stood glaring down at me.
"There," she said. "Are you happy now? Come on, get up. We have to go back."
So, she got one over on a Gribble. I wonder what time she got up this morning?
"My disguise didn't even fool you for a second, did it?" I said out loud. She clambered off my chest and sat down on her haunches as I pulled myself to my feet.
She raised her eyebrow skeptically.
"Disguise? What were you pretending to be?"
I brushed myself off. The front of my jumpsuit was still caked in mud, but I could at least get rid of some of the pine needles.
"Doesn't matter. You're a worthy adversary, Sweetie Belle, I'll give you that much."
"Uh... thanks?"
Reflexively I reached for a smoke, and then remembered my situation. I felt a twinge of anxiety. Whatever "Twilight" had done to me was still working, but somehow I knew it wasn't going to last much longer. As soon as the craving set in, I'd be incapacitated again. Whatever else was going to happen, I needed to get myself some smokes.
Meanwhile Sweetie Belle was looking me up and down, taking in my mud-caked jumpsuit and the twigs stuffed into my cuffs and pockets. She sighed heavily for the third time.
"You're a really weird guy, Mr. Rusty," she said again. "Anyway, come on, we need to get going. You can't just wander around in the Everfree Forest by yourself, especially after dark. And the sun's going down soon."
She turned away from me, peering back into the underbrush she'd emerged from.
Heh, thought I'd been subdued and it was safe to let your guard down, eh? Well I've still got my secret weapon...
"Alright, let's see," she said, half to herself. "I think I remember which way we came in. If we just follow that path we should make it back to Sweet Apple Acres before sunset--"
"POCKET SAND!!"
As she turned back towards me, I unleashed a fresh round of the Gribble School's finishing technique, right into the little pony's face.
"Hey!" she protested. She stood blinking in confusion, rubbing her muzzle and spitting out sand. "Not again! Why do you keep doing that--"
"Shishishaw!"
I hissed triumphantly, and took off running into the woods.
"Hey, get back here!" she cried out behind me. "Didn't you hear what I said?!? Grrr!"
As I crashed through the woods, I could hear the sound of panting and tiny hooves galloping after me.
Damn, that is one tenacious little alien....
The shadows were getting longer, the light filtering through the canopy overhead getting thinner. If I could last until nightfall, darkness would give me the cover I'd need.
This alien horse had no idea who she was dealing with.
>>375191
6: Alone in the Dark
Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Unknown
The darkness of the forest closes in around me. It is cold, damp, menacing, and filled with unseen terrible creatures, like the space behind my basement refrigerator. Even obscured by trees, the sky looks different than the sky over Arlen that I know and love. These stars are unfamiliar to me. There can no longer be any doubt: I have left my home planet behind.
There is still much that I do not understand. These extraterrestrial horse-creatures appear to have taken me to their home world for study and/or dissection purposes. This bodes well for my friends and family and fellow beloved Arlenites, as it would suggest they have NOT been invaded and colonized by an evil race of bloodthirsty pastel horses. At least not yet. This discovery does not, however, bode well for the possibility of my acquiring smokes.
I write these last hasty sentences by the light of my trusty Zippo, which, if the website I bought it from is to be believed, was once a prized possession of one Lee Harvey Oswald. If there is any possibility of obtaining smokes on this planet, I must conserve fuel. As such, I unfortunately must forego further entries in this journal until sunrise, assuming I survive that long. Also, I keep burning my fingers.
In the event that I should perish, alone and cold on this hostile alien world, I make the following bequests:
To my friend, Hank Rutherford Hill, I bequeath one (1) Mason Allegro X9J Riding Lawnmower, codename "Redeemer."
To my friend, Jeffrey Dexter Boomhauer, I bequeath one (1) 1992 Dodge Grand Caravan, hereafter referred to as the "Bugabago."
To my friend, Sgt. William Fontaine de la Tour Dauterive, I bequeath one (1) cannister of pure alien urine, which he has on more than one occasion mistaken for a cannister of barbicide, as well as the four (4) Molly Hatchet albums in my possession. I also grant Sgt. Dauterive full custody of my colony of Peruvian hissing cockroaches, as I believe his home to be an environment to which the roaches would readily adapt.
My Oswald Zippo I request be used to light my pyre, and subsequently burned along with my remains, assuming said remains are intact upon discovery.
Signed but not notarized,
Dale Alvin Grib—
"Ow! Dammit, I burned my fingers again."
I snapped the lighter closed and returned both it and my journal to the pocket of my jumpsuit. I got up off of the log I'd been sitting on and gazed skyward.
"Alright, stars," I said aloud. "Which one of you is the North Star?"
For the hundredth time, I reflexively reached into my pocket, only to remember that I still had no smokes. The horse-creature's strange treatment had lasted much longer than I'd expected, which came as a pleasant surprise. However, I still found it difficult to think without a cigarette in my hand.
"What in Equestria are you doing now?!?"
"AARGH!!"
I yelped in surprise as a shrill little voice suddenly penetrated the dark silence of the forest behind me. Attempting to wheel around and face my pursuer, I stumbled on a tree root and fell on my backside. A now-familiar little white horse trotted out of the shadows and stood in a pool of moonlight on the grass.
"So," I said. "It appears you've finally caught me. I didn't think you'd be able to track me this far."
Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes.
"Track you? You've been stomping around talking to yourself for, like, ever! The whole forest probably knows you're here."
I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees.
"Are you going to finish me off then? Or will you take me back to your hive, for debriefing and eventual dissection?"
She stamped her hoof and grunted.
"I have no idea what you're talking about! All I know is I've been chasing you around for hours now! I'm tired, and I'm hungry, and I'm—"
She cut herself off and stared sullenly behind her into the forest.
"...and I don't know where we are," she admitted finally. "I don't think I can find my way back on my own."
She took a step towards me, her tiny horn lighting up. Instinctively I scrambled backward, bumping up against a tree. Some pine needles drifted down, landing on my shoulders and the brim of my hat.
Is this where it ends? I won't go down without a fight...
When she saw my expression, she immediately stopped her approach and doused her horn.
"Please, Mr. Rusty," she said wearily. "I don't want to keep chasing you around. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Just please stop running away."
I brushed the pine needles off of my hat, watching her carefully. Now that I could see her up close, she didn't look all that menacing. Mostly she just looked exhausted, and maybe a little bit frightened. For the first time, I noticed how tiny she really was. Her stance was pathetic; she had left herself wide open. I could get the drop on her pretty easily, I realized, subdue her quickly and run away. However, I also realized that I was pretty exhausted myself, and I didn't really want to keep running.
"What do you ponies want with me, anyway?" I demanded.
"We don't want anything! Honest! I just... you looked like you were sick or something. We were just trying to help."
Her voice was quavering a little.
My hand reached instinctively for my non-existent smokes again, then pulled back.
"That purple one, the one with the horn like yours. What was her deal?"
Sweetie Belle looked confused.
"Wait, do you mean Twilight?"
I nodded.
"She used some kind of tractor beam on me."
Sweetie Belle looked even more confused.
"A tractor?"
I cleared my throat.
"Listen, Sweetie Belle, if that is your real name," I began. "I don't know how you're mixed up in all of this, but you want me to trust you, right?"
She nodded.
"Well before I trust you, I need some answers."
"Okay..."
I cleared my throat.
6: Alone in the Dark
Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Unknown
The darkness of the forest closes in around me. It is cold, damp, menacing, and filled with unseen terrible creatures, like the space behind my basement refrigerator. Even obscured by trees, the sky looks different than the sky over Arlen that I know and love. These stars are unfamiliar to me. There can no longer be any doubt: I have left my home planet behind.
There is still much that I do not understand. These extraterrestrial horse-creatures appear to have taken me to their home world for study and/or dissection purposes. This bodes well for my friends and family and fellow beloved Arlenites, as it would suggest they have NOT been invaded and colonized by an evil race of bloodthirsty pastel horses. At least not yet. This discovery does not, however, bode well for the possibility of my acquiring smokes.
I write these last hasty sentences by the light of my trusty Zippo, which, if the website I bought it from is to be believed, was once a prized possession of one Lee Harvey Oswald. If there is any possibility of obtaining smokes on this planet, I must conserve fuel. As such, I unfortunately must forego further entries in this journal until sunrise, assuming I survive that long. Also, I keep burning my fingers.
In the event that I should perish, alone and cold on this hostile alien world, I make the following bequests:
To my friend, Hank Rutherford Hill, I bequeath one (1) Mason Allegro X9J Riding Lawnmower, codename "Redeemer."
To my friend, Jeffrey Dexter Boomhauer, I bequeath one (1) 1992 Dodge Grand Caravan, hereafter referred to as the "Bugabago."
To my friend, Sgt. William Fontaine de la Tour Dauterive, I bequeath one (1) cannister of pure alien urine, which he has on more than one occasion mistaken for a cannister of barbicide, as well as the four (4) Molly Hatchet albums in my possession. I also grant Sgt. Dauterive full custody of my colony of Peruvian hissing cockroaches, as I believe his home to be an environment to which the roaches would readily adapt.
My Oswald Zippo I request be used to light my pyre, and subsequently burned along with my remains, assuming said remains are intact upon discovery.
Signed but not notarized,
Dale Alvin Grib—
"Ow! Dammit, I burned my fingers again."
I snapped the lighter closed and returned both it and my journal to the pocket of my jumpsuit. I got up off of the log I'd been sitting on and gazed skyward.
"Alright, stars," I said aloud. "Which one of you is the North Star?"
For the hundredth time, I reflexively reached into my pocket, only to remember that I still had no smokes. The horse-creature's strange treatment had lasted much longer than I'd expected, which came as a pleasant surprise. However, I still found it difficult to think without a cigarette in my hand.
"What in Equestria are you doing now?!?"
"AARGH!!"
I yelped in surprise as a shrill little voice suddenly penetrated the dark silence of the forest behind me. Attempting to wheel around and face my pursuer, I stumbled on a tree root and fell on my backside. A now-familiar little white horse trotted out of the shadows and stood in a pool of moonlight on the grass.
"So," I said. "It appears you've finally caught me. I didn't think you'd be able to track me this far."
Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes.
"Track you? You've been stomping around talking to yourself for, like, ever! The whole forest probably knows you're here."
I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees.
"Are you going to finish me off then? Or will you take me back to your hive, for debriefing and eventual dissection?"
She stamped her hoof and grunted.
"I have no idea what you're talking about! All I know is I've been chasing you around for hours now! I'm tired, and I'm hungry, and I'm—"
She cut herself off and stared sullenly behind her into the forest.
"...and I don't know where we are," she admitted finally. "I don't think I can find my way back on my own."
She took a step towards me, her tiny horn lighting up. Instinctively I scrambled backward, bumping up against a tree. Some pine needles drifted down, landing on my shoulders and the brim of my hat.
Is this where it ends? I won't go down without a fight...
When she saw my expression, she immediately stopped her approach and doused her horn.
"Please, Mr. Rusty," she said wearily. "I don't want to keep chasing you around. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Just please stop running away."
I brushed the pine needles off of my hat, watching her carefully. Now that I could see her up close, she didn't look all that menacing. Mostly she just looked exhausted, and maybe a little bit frightened. For the first time, I noticed how tiny she really was. Her stance was pathetic; she had left herself wide open. I could get the drop on her pretty easily, I realized, subdue her quickly and run away. However, I also realized that I was pretty exhausted myself, and I didn't really want to keep running.
"What do you ponies want with me, anyway?" I demanded.
"We don't want anything! Honest! I just... you looked like you were sick or something. We were just trying to help."
Her voice was quavering a little.
My hand reached instinctively for my non-existent smokes again, then pulled back.
"That purple one, the one with the horn like yours. What was her deal?"
Sweetie Belle looked confused.
"Wait, do you mean Twilight?"
I nodded.
"She used some kind of tractor beam on me."
Sweetie Belle looked even more confused.
"A tractor?"
I cleared my throat.
"Listen, Sweetie Belle, if that is your real name," I began. "I don't know how you're mixed up in all of this, but you want me to trust you, right?"
She nodded.
"Well before I trust you, I need some answers."
"Okay..."
I cleared my throat.
>>375376
"I have experience dealing with all manner of alien life," I began, "and I have never encountered your species before. To my knowledge, I have never wronged the ponies of the mighty Horse Planet, and yet, during a routine fumigation, I was knocked unconscious and abducted against my will. I awakened in your world, alone and without smokes, where I was promptly arrested and brought before your Overlord, the one you call 'Twilight'. If you want me to trust you, you must answer the following: One, why was I brought here? Two, what are the coordinates of this planet? Three, is there anywhere nearby where I could purchase some type of cigarette? They don't even have to be Manitobas, I will literally smoke anything you've got."
Sweetie Belle just stared at me.
"Well......" she began finally. "I......... don't really understand anything you're talking about. But it sounds like you came from someplace pretty far away. You said you were... what was it? A duck?"
"Abducted."
"Right. Well, I definitely didn't have anything to do with that, and neither did any of my friends. I'm pretty sure Twilight and Applejack didn't either. If we scared you though, I'm really really sorry. And Twilight isn't an overload, but she is really smart. If anypony could figure out who it was that... that duck-tied you... it would definitely be her."
She frowned slightly.
"But, uh, if you want her to help you, you should probably apologize for throwing sand at her first."
I scratched my chin, considering everything the little horse had told me. She sounded sincere. And until I could learn more about where I was and how I could get home, I needed someone I could trust. Someone on the inside, who understood this world.
I narrowed my eyes.
"And if I come with you, do you swear you're not going to probe me?"
Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow.
"Probe you? What does that mean?"
Briefly I explained the procedure to her. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"Eew! Why would I want to do that?"
Suddenly, a low, distant howl cut through the silence around us. Sweetie Belle moved closer to me, her head darting around, trying to peer into the forest by the dim light of her horn.
"W-what was that?"
The howl came again. I scratched my chin, listening.
"Hmmm," I mused. "It sounds like it could be a wolf. Or possibly a WEREwolf."
Sweetie looked up at me, her eyes wide with alarm.
"A where-wolf? What's that?"
"I've dealt with them before, both as an exterminator and as an investigator of the paranormal. They can be a handful sometimes."
I stood up.
"We should probably get moving."
Sweetie Belle looked up at me eagerly.
"So, do you think you can get us back to Ponyville?"
"Ma'am, I am a licensed professional bounty hunter and a wilderness survival expert. You may rest assured that I will protect you from any and all werewolves while you remain in my company. I will, however, need you to solemnly swear that neither you nor this 'Twilight' plan on dissecting me later."
She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.
"Fine, I promise I won't dissect you. Twilight either. Can we go now, please?"
I stared up at the night sky.
"Yes, I just need a moment to get my bearings."
"Okay."
I continued staring at the sky. Sweetie Belle tapped a hoof and swished her tail back and forth. Time passed.
"Um... well?" she asked finally.
"Yes, I just had one question. Do you happen to know which one of these stars is the NORTH star?"
Sweetie groaned.
"You have no idea where we are either, do you?" she asked miserably.
"Uh... not as such, no," I admitted.
The little pony ground her teeth, looking like she wanted to ram me again with her horn. However, another low howl suddenly echoed in the distance, followed by an answering howl from the other side of the forest. She changed her mind, pressing up against my leg instead.
"C-can we just get going please?"
As if in answer, another mournful howl echoed across the forest. It sounded a little closer this time.
"I have experience dealing with all manner of alien life," I began, "and I have never encountered your species before. To my knowledge, I have never wronged the ponies of the mighty Horse Planet, and yet, during a routine fumigation, I was knocked unconscious and abducted against my will. I awakened in your world, alone and without smokes, where I was promptly arrested and brought before your Overlord, the one you call 'Twilight'. If you want me to trust you, you must answer the following: One, why was I brought here? Two, what are the coordinates of this planet? Three, is there anywhere nearby where I could purchase some type of cigarette? They don't even have to be Manitobas, I will literally smoke anything you've got."
Sweetie Belle just stared at me.
"Well......" she began finally. "I......... don't really understand anything you're talking about. But it sounds like you came from someplace pretty far away. You said you were... what was it? A duck?"
"Abducted."
"Right. Well, I definitely didn't have anything to do with that, and neither did any of my friends. I'm pretty sure Twilight and Applejack didn't either. If we scared you though, I'm really really sorry. And Twilight isn't an overload, but she is really smart. If anypony could figure out who it was that... that duck-tied you... it would definitely be her."
She frowned slightly.
"But, uh, if you want her to help you, you should probably apologize for throwing sand at her first."
I scratched my chin, considering everything the little horse had told me. She sounded sincere. And until I could learn more about where I was and how I could get home, I needed someone I could trust. Someone on the inside, who understood this world.
I narrowed my eyes.
"And if I come with you, do you swear you're not going to probe me?"
Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow.
"Probe you? What does that mean?"
Briefly I explained the procedure to her. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"Eew! Why would I want to do that?"
Suddenly, a low, distant howl cut through the silence around us. Sweetie Belle moved closer to me, her head darting around, trying to peer into the forest by the dim light of her horn.
"W-what was that?"
The howl came again. I scratched my chin, listening.
"Hmmm," I mused. "It sounds like it could be a wolf. Or possibly a WEREwolf."
Sweetie looked up at me, her eyes wide with alarm.
"A where-wolf? What's that?"
"I've dealt with them before, both as an exterminator and as an investigator of the paranormal. They can be a handful sometimes."
I stood up.
"We should probably get moving."
Sweetie Belle looked up at me eagerly.
"So, do you think you can get us back to Ponyville?"
"Ma'am, I am a licensed professional bounty hunter and a wilderness survival expert. You may rest assured that I will protect you from any and all werewolves while you remain in my company. I will, however, need you to solemnly swear that neither you nor this 'Twilight' plan on dissecting me later."
She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.
"Fine, I promise I won't dissect you. Twilight either. Can we go now, please?"
I stared up at the night sky.
"Yes, I just need a moment to get my bearings."
"Okay."
I continued staring at the sky. Sweetie Belle tapped a hoof and swished her tail back and forth. Time passed.
"Um... well?" she asked finally.
"Yes, I just had one question. Do you happen to know which one of these stars is the NORTH star?"
Sweetie groaned.
"You have no idea where we are either, do you?" she asked miserably.
"Uh... not as such, no," I admitted.
The little pony ground her teeth, looking like she wanted to ram me again with her horn. However, another low howl suddenly echoed in the distance, followed by an answering howl from the other side of the forest. She changed her mind, pressing up against my leg instead.
"C-can we just get going please?"
As if in answer, another mournful howl echoed across the forest. It sounded a little closer this time.
File (): A9D3C15915ED3A3D2D338107A65C6248-395951.png (386.7 KB, 939x1024, A9D3C15915ED3A3D2D338107A65C6248-395951 (2).png)
>>375377
Apologies for neglecting this. As of this post, I've officially posted all of the material that I've written over the last year or so. This means that going forward, everything I post will be fresh, or at least "fresh" in the sense that I'm still working on adapting it from the existing green. Once I run out of that, I'll be writing new material from scratch, which will take even longer. I'm trying to keep this project on or near the front burner, but I also have other ongoing projects, both horse-related and non, that take up time as well. There is also the matter of this pesky "job" I have to keep going to because apparently I don't get paid unless I actually show up and do stuff. So, just letting you all know that updates may be sporadic going forward.
I'd like to thank everyone who has been reading so far for your continued interest, as well as for your patience in putting up with my laziness.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ie-9Z5aN4Og
----------------------------------------------------
7: The Where-Wolves of Ponyville
I stared up at the night sky, deep in concentration.
If only I could figure out where Orion is...
"How long have we been walking?" Sweetie Belle asked wearily.
"About five hours," I replied.
Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes.
"There's no way it's been that long."
I scratched my chin.
"Say, Sweetie Belle, do you happen to know where Orion is?"
She just glowered at me, looking like she wanted to ram me with her horn again.
"Uh, never mind," I said. "Let's just keep moving."
My tiny horse companion seemed tired and afraid. I was feeling a little worn-down myself. Whatever else happened, we had to make it out of this forest.
"I think there's a way out just through those trees over there," I said, pointing toward a shadowy opening not far ahead.
"That's what you said the last time, and it was just more trees!" She sounded like she was about to start crying. "Can we please just get out of here, Mr. Rusty? My sister is probably getting worried."
I glanced down at Sweetie Belle. Her marshmallow coat was smeared with dirt, and her mane was disheveled and stuck all over with brambles and pine needles.
Dammit, this little pony is counting on me. If only I could find Orion...
I sighed. For all I knew, we were on Orion.
Wait, is Orion a planet? Or is it a star? Damn National Geographic channel.
We trudged wearily through the opening in the trees, and found ourselves in a broad clearing. I noticed a weird-looking pile of sticks lying near the center. For some reason, it gave me a creepy feeling.
"Say, what's that?" I asked.
For a moment I thought it was the remains of someone's campfire. There were two glowing spots in the center of it, like embers. I lifted up my clip-on sunglasses so I could get a better look.
Huh, I probably should have taken these off earlier. It's much easier to see in the dark now.
Meanwhile, the bundle of sticks in front of me seemed to be moving. The two glowing points moved sharply upward. A long howl emanated from the center of the bush.
Sweetie Belle squeaked in alarm and darted behind my legs.
"T-timber wolves!" she cried.
The pile of sticks moved again. Overhead, a cloud moved away from the moon, casting the sticks in a pale glow. The pile had assumed the shape of a large wolf.
"Th-they're all around us..." Sweetie whispered.
Sure enough, I counted five of the strange wooden wolves forming a semicircle in front of us. To our backs was the thick growth we'd just crawled out of. We could try to make a dash for it, but I had a feeling that if we did, they'd be on us before we even made it halfway across the clearing.
Sweetie poked her head around from behind my legs.
"W-what should we do?"
I dropped into a tiger stance. Or maybe it was a dragon stance. I always get those two mixed up. Also, I'm not sure if either of them are real stances. In any case, I dropped into some kind of stance.
"I eat wolves like you for breakfast," I said. "'Least I would, 'cept I don't want to get splinters in my teeth. Shishishaw!"
The wolves tensed. Whatever they had instead of hackles were probably standing on edge.
"C-can you really handle them all?" whispered Sweetie. "What's your plan?"
I thought for a moment, then suddenly I slammed my fist into my palm.
"I just got it!"
Sweetie looked up hopefully.
"Timber wolves! It's like they're wolves, but they're made out of timb--YAAAAGH!!"
I let out a high-pitched shriek as something large and heavy crashed into me from the left. I went head over heels, rolling over a few times, and when I looked up, one of the wooden wolves was staring me in the face, growling.
It gnashed its teeth at me. I managed to move my head just in time, and it took a large bite out of the ground. Some kind of greenish-blue light flashed somewhere in the periphery of my vision, and a small stone hit the wolf in the cheek.
"Get away from him!" Sweetie Belle yelled defiantly.
The wolf clenched its teeth and lowered its body to the ground, turning its attention toward the little pony. It looked ready to pounce.
I grabbed a handful of sand from the ground next to me and flung it in the creature's eyes.
"Shishishaw!"
It howled in frustration. Another small rock from Sweetie Belle hit it in the shoulder, and a few sticks dropped off of its body. I aimed a kick at one of its hind legs. The leg snapped in half, and the wolf collapsed to the ground just as I rolled out from under it.
Sweetie Belle came running toward me as I clambered to my feet. She just barely dodged the snapping jaws of another wolf.
"Look out!" I yelled.
Another wolf came barreling in from the side. Sweetie shrieked and rolled to the ground just as it sprang for her. It went sailing over her head and collided with a tree, its body breaking apart into sticks.
Apologies for neglecting this. As of this post, I've officially posted all of the material that I've written over the last year or so. This means that going forward, everything I post will be fresh, or at least "fresh" in the sense that I'm still working on adapting it from the existing green. Once I run out of that, I'll be writing new material from scratch, which will take even longer. I'm trying to keep this project on or near the front burner, but I also have other ongoing projects, both horse-related and non, that take up time as well. There is also the matter of this pesky "job" I have to keep going to because apparently I don't get paid unless I actually show up and do stuff. So, just letting you all know that updates may be sporadic going forward.
I'd like to thank everyone who has been reading so far for your continued interest, as well as for your patience in putting up with my laziness.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ie-9Z5aN4Og
----------------------------------------------------
7: The Where-Wolves of Ponyville
I stared up at the night sky, deep in concentration.
If only I could figure out where Orion is...
"How long have we been walking?" Sweetie Belle asked wearily.
"About five hours," I replied.
Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes.
"There's no way it's been that long."
I scratched my chin.
"Say, Sweetie Belle, do you happen to know where Orion is?"
She just glowered at me, looking like she wanted to ram me with her horn again.
"Uh, never mind," I said. "Let's just keep moving."
My tiny horse companion seemed tired and afraid. I was feeling a little worn-down myself. Whatever else happened, we had to make it out of this forest.
"I think there's a way out just through those trees over there," I said, pointing toward a shadowy opening not far ahead.
"That's what you said the last time, and it was just more trees!" She sounded like she was about to start crying. "Can we please just get out of here, Mr. Rusty? My sister is probably getting worried."
I glanced down at Sweetie Belle. Her marshmallow coat was smeared with dirt, and her mane was disheveled and stuck all over with brambles and pine needles.
Dammit, this little pony is counting on me. If only I could find Orion...
I sighed. For all I knew, we were on Orion.
Wait, is Orion a planet? Or is it a star? Damn National Geographic channel.
We trudged wearily through the opening in the trees, and found ourselves in a broad clearing. I noticed a weird-looking pile of sticks lying near the center. For some reason, it gave me a creepy feeling.
"Say, what's that?" I asked.
For a moment I thought it was the remains of someone's campfire. There were two glowing spots in the center of it, like embers. I lifted up my clip-on sunglasses so I could get a better look.
Huh, I probably should have taken these off earlier. It's much easier to see in the dark now.
Meanwhile, the bundle of sticks in front of me seemed to be moving. The two glowing points moved sharply upward. A long howl emanated from the center of the bush.
Sweetie Belle squeaked in alarm and darted behind my legs.
"T-timber wolves!" she cried.
The pile of sticks moved again. Overhead, a cloud moved away from the moon, casting the sticks in a pale glow. The pile had assumed the shape of a large wolf.
"Th-they're all around us..." Sweetie whispered.
Sure enough, I counted five of the strange wooden wolves forming a semicircle in front of us. To our backs was the thick growth we'd just crawled out of. We could try to make a dash for it, but I had a feeling that if we did, they'd be on us before we even made it halfway across the clearing.
Sweetie poked her head around from behind my legs.
"W-what should we do?"
I dropped into a tiger stance. Or maybe it was a dragon stance. I always get those two mixed up. Also, I'm not sure if either of them are real stances. In any case, I dropped into some kind of stance.
"I eat wolves like you for breakfast," I said. "'Least I would, 'cept I don't want to get splinters in my teeth. Shishishaw!"
The wolves tensed. Whatever they had instead of hackles were probably standing on edge.
"C-can you really handle them all?" whispered Sweetie. "What's your plan?"
I thought for a moment, then suddenly I slammed my fist into my palm.
"I just got it!"
Sweetie looked up hopefully.
"Timber wolves! It's like they're wolves, but they're made out of timb--YAAAAGH!!"
I let out a high-pitched shriek as something large and heavy crashed into me from the left. I went head over heels, rolling over a few times, and when I looked up, one of the wooden wolves was staring me in the face, growling.
It gnashed its teeth at me. I managed to move my head just in time, and it took a large bite out of the ground. Some kind of greenish-blue light flashed somewhere in the periphery of my vision, and a small stone hit the wolf in the cheek.
"Get away from him!" Sweetie Belle yelled defiantly.
The wolf clenched its teeth and lowered its body to the ground, turning its attention toward the little pony. It looked ready to pounce.
I grabbed a handful of sand from the ground next to me and flung it in the creature's eyes.
"Shishishaw!"
It howled in frustration. Another small rock from Sweetie Belle hit it in the shoulder, and a few sticks dropped off of its body. I aimed a kick at one of its hind legs. The leg snapped in half, and the wolf collapsed to the ground just as I rolled out from under it.
Sweetie Belle came running toward me as I clambered to my feet. She just barely dodged the snapping jaws of another wolf.
"Look out!" I yelled.
Another wolf came barreling in from the side. Sweetie shrieked and rolled to the ground just as it sprang for her. It went sailing over her head and collided with a tree, its body breaking apart into sticks.
>>376218
Meanwhile, the wolf that had pounced on me was trying to get to its feet. I picked up one of the rocks that Sweetie had thrown and hurled it. I hit him dead center in the chest. The wolf weaved drunkenly from side to side, snapping its jaws at the air, and then it collapsed into a pile of sticks, the green flame of its eyes extinguished.
That's two down...
I ran to where Sweetie Belle was as she scrambled back onto her hooves. Two more wolves were approaching from the side, growling, crouched as if ready to spring.
"What do we do, Mr. Rusty?!?"
"You got any more alien tricks you can do with that horn?"
"N-no, not really..."
"Then we should probably RUN!!"
I scooped her up off the ground as I ran past. Both wolves pounced at the same time. I dropped to the ground and rolled, clutching the little pony to my chest, and they crashed into each other, raining sticks and bramble onto my back.
Back on my feet, I dove through a gap in the trees, out of the clearing and back into the woods. I could hear the last wolf sprinting after us, its joints making an eerie clicking sound as it ran.
Sweetie Belle was heavier than she looked, and it was hard to run while carrying her. I didn't have to worry about it for too long, though, as I suddenly lost my footing, and we went rolling down the side of a steep hill.
We rolled faster and faster, twigs and thistles cutting through the fabric of my jumpsuit. My arms and legs felt like they were being shredded. Sweetie Belle's high-pitched shrieking was threatening to break my eardrums. I did my best to shield her with my body as we rolled.
Somewhere, I lost my grip on her and she went flying. Suddenly, I collided with something soft and wet. My face was buried in mud.
I flailed my arms around. I could feel water splashing around me. Struggling for a few seconds, I finally managed to roll over onto my back. I wiped the mud from my glasses, and saw a clear sky filled with stars above me. No tree branches were blocking the view.
I still couldn't see the North Star. Or Orion. But it looked like we were finally out of the woods.
I sat up. It seemed like we'd landed in a small, shallow pond at the base of a tall hill. Further up the slope, menacing skeletal trees reached out with their branches, like they wanted to grab us and pull us back in.
I turned to look in the opposite direction. The dim lights of what looked like a town were twinkling in the distance.
There was a splashing sound, and I saw Sweetie Belle wading towards me through the pond. She was covered in mud and muck, and her legs were shaking, but she didn't look hurt.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded.
"I think so."
She plopped down in the mud next to me, and we sat looking up at the stars in silence. We were both breathing hard, and I realized I was completely exhausted. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in this pond and go to sleep.
"Um, can we not tell anypony about the timber wolves?" she asked suddenly. "My sister will totally freak out if she finds out what happened."
"Okay," I replied.
Neither of us said anything more for a good, long while. The night was cool and still. The unfamiliar stars were twinkling up above. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped.
I heard the faint clip-clopping of hooves on packed earth, and I turned to see a faint pink glow. Slowly I rose to my feet. I was covered in mud and every part of my body was sore. The pink glow drew closer. Then, the darkness parted and a purple alien horse stepped into view.
Meanwhile, the wolf that had pounced on me was trying to get to its feet. I picked up one of the rocks that Sweetie had thrown and hurled it. I hit him dead center in the chest. The wolf weaved drunkenly from side to side, snapping its jaws at the air, and then it collapsed into a pile of sticks, the green flame of its eyes extinguished.
That's two down...
I ran to where Sweetie Belle was as she scrambled back onto her hooves. Two more wolves were approaching from the side, growling, crouched as if ready to spring.
"What do we do, Mr. Rusty?!?"
"You got any more alien tricks you can do with that horn?"
"N-no, not really..."
"Then we should probably RUN!!"
I scooped her up off the ground as I ran past. Both wolves pounced at the same time. I dropped to the ground and rolled, clutching the little pony to my chest, and they crashed into each other, raining sticks and bramble onto my back.
Back on my feet, I dove through a gap in the trees, out of the clearing and back into the woods. I could hear the last wolf sprinting after us, its joints making an eerie clicking sound as it ran.
Sweetie Belle was heavier than she looked, and it was hard to run while carrying her. I didn't have to worry about it for too long, though, as I suddenly lost my footing, and we went rolling down the side of a steep hill.
We rolled faster and faster, twigs and thistles cutting through the fabric of my jumpsuit. My arms and legs felt like they were being shredded. Sweetie Belle's high-pitched shrieking was threatening to break my eardrums. I did my best to shield her with my body as we rolled.
Somewhere, I lost my grip on her and she went flying. Suddenly, I collided with something soft and wet. My face was buried in mud.
I flailed my arms around. I could feel water splashing around me. Struggling for a few seconds, I finally managed to roll over onto my back. I wiped the mud from my glasses, and saw a clear sky filled with stars above me. No tree branches were blocking the view.
I still couldn't see the North Star. Or Orion. But it looked like we were finally out of the woods.
I sat up. It seemed like we'd landed in a small, shallow pond at the base of a tall hill. Further up the slope, menacing skeletal trees reached out with their branches, like they wanted to grab us and pull us back in.
I turned to look in the opposite direction. The dim lights of what looked like a town were twinkling in the distance.
There was a splashing sound, and I saw Sweetie Belle wading towards me through the pond. She was covered in mud and muck, and her legs were shaking, but she didn't look hurt.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded.
"I think so."
She plopped down in the mud next to me, and we sat looking up at the stars in silence. We were both breathing hard, and I realized I was completely exhausted. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in this pond and go to sleep.
"Um, can we not tell anypony about the timber wolves?" she asked suddenly. "My sister will totally freak out if she finds out what happened."
"Okay," I replied.
Neither of us said anything more for a good, long while. The night was cool and still. The unfamiliar stars were twinkling up above. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped.
I heard the faint clip-clopping of hooves on packed earth, and I turned to see a faint pink glow. Slowly I rose to my feet. I was covered in mud and every part of my body was sore. The pink glow drew closer. Then, the darkness parted and a purple alien horse stepped into view.
>>376219
"Twilight!"
Sweetie Belle squeaked with delight and ran towards her. Twilight frowned, examining Sweetie's matted, muddy coat and mane. Then she took a look at me.
"You're both filthy," she said flatly. "What happened to you?"
"We... uh... we got lost in the Everfree Forest," stammered Sweetie Belle.
"Heh. Yeah, we noticed. Y'all were mostly goin' in circles."
Applejack emerged from the darkness behind Twilight, still wearing the hat that had unsettled me so. My relief evaporated as I suddenly realized that I'd only succeeded in getting myself re-captured by the very aliens I'd been trying to escape.
Why would a pony be wearing a cowboy hat? I wondered again. And why are the werewolves on this planet made out of wood?
Nothing made any sense to me, and I still had many questions. But I was tired. So very tired. My eyelids felt like they had lead weights tied to them.
I put my hands up slowly.
"I have decided to surrender peacefully," I mumbled.
The two larger ponies gave me a puzzled glance. Then they looked at each other. Twilight shrugged.
"Anyway," Applejack went on, as though I hadn't spoken. "Y'all are lucky you didn't get too far into that forest. You really shouldn't go wanderin' around in there after dark. If y'all had gotten much further in you could of been in a heap of trouble."
"What do you mean we didn't get very far?" demanded Sweetie Belle. "We were walking for miles and miles!"
Applejack looked amused.
"Uh, not really, sugar cube. Like I said, y'all were mostly goin' in circles. We were followin' your trail for awhile, but then you went off the path into some nasty-looking brambles, and... well, we figured you'd end up around here somewhere eventually, so we decided to try and head you off."
She looked us over, still smirking a little.
"I'm guessin' you're done playin' for the evenin'?"
"Ow!"
I felt a sharp kick in my shin, and looked down to see Sweetie Belle scowling at me. Applejack sniggered.
"I'll go 'head and take that as a yes. Anyway, I figure it's about time to be gettin' on home. Y'all had better come back to the farm first and wash up, you know how that Rarity hates muddy hooves."
"Yeah..."
Sweetie shot me one last angry glare, then trudged sulkily away after Twilight and Applejack.
Applejack glanced over her shoulder.
"Uh, you comin', Mr. Rusty? Or were you plannin' to sleep out in the woods tonight?"
I looked at the three ponies, and then back at the menacing outline of the forest on top of the hill.
"I'll come quietly."
For now.
I fell in line behind the three ponies. We trudged along through the grass in silence. A low howl echoed from the woods behind us, but it was faint. Ahead, the lights of a town called "Ponyville" were getting brighter and closer.
"Twilight!"
Sweetie Belle squeaked with delight and ran towards her. Twilight frowned, examining Sweetie's matted, muddy coat and mane. Then she took a look at me.
"You're both filthy," she said flatly. "What happened to you?"
"We... uh... we got lost in the Everfree Forest," stammered Sweetie Belle.
"Heh. Yeah, we noticed. Y'all were mostly goin' in circles."
Applejack emerged from the darkness behind Twilight, still wearing the hat that had unsettled me so. My relief evaporated as I suddenly realized that I'd only succeeded in getting myself re-captured by the very aliens I'd been trying to escape.
Why would a pony be wearing a cowboy hat? I wondered again. And why are the werewolves on this planet made out of wood?
Nothing made any sense to me, and I still had many questions. But I was tired. So very tired. My eyelids felt like they had lead weights tied to them.
I put my hands up slowly.
"I have decided to surrender peacefully," I mumbled.
The two larger ponies gave me a puzzled glance. Then they looked at each other. Twilight shrugged.
"Anyway," Applejack went on, as though I hadn't spoken. "Y'all are lucky you didn't get too far into that forest. You really shouldn't go wanderin' around in there after dark. If y'all had gotten much further in you could of been in a heap of trouble."
"What do you mean we didn't get very far?" demanded Sweetie Belle. "We were walking for miles and miles!"
Applejack looked amused.
"Uh, not really, sugar cube. Like I said, y'all were mostly goin' in circles. We were followin' your trail for awhile, but then you went off the path into some nasty-looking brambles, and... well, we figured you'd end up around here somewhere eventually, so we decided to try and head you off."
She looked us over, still smirking a little.
"I'm guessin' you're done playin' for the evenin'?"
"Ow!"
I felt a sharp kick in my shin, and looked down to see Sweetie Belle scowling at me. Applejack sniggered.
"I'll go 'head and take that as a yes. Anyway, I figure it's about time to be gettin' on home. Y'all had better come back to the farm first and wash up, you know how that Rarity hates muddy hooves."
"Yeah..."
Sweetie shot me one last angry glare, then trudged sulkily away after Twilight and Applejack.
Applejack glanced over her shoulder.
"Uh, you comin', Mr. Rusty? Or were you plannin' to sleep out in the woods tonight?"
I looked at the three ponies, and then back at the menacing outline of the forest on top of the hill.
"I'll come quietly."
For now.
I fell in line behind the three ponies. We trudged along through the grass in silence. A low howl echoed from the woods behind us, but it was faint. Ahead, the lights of a town called "Ponyville" were getting brighter and closer.
>>376220
8: Stranger in a Strange Land
Gribble's Log
Location: Ponyville, Equestria. Galaxy unknown.
Day Five
I have successfully infiltrated the aliens' society and am working on gaining their trust. The one called Twilight Sparkle, who I mistook for their queen, has taken me in and allowed me to stay with her for the time being. She lives in a giant tree, which seems like a strange place for a horse to live, but there is much about these creatures that I do not understand.
Equine society operates on a rigidly defined caste system not unlike a colony of fire ants. Unicorns, like Twilight and Sweetie Belle, can be identified by their distinctive horns, and appear to be the overlords of this society due to their manipulation of what they call "magic." The winged "pegasi" are their enforcers, who are able to somehow control the weather. They use this power to coerce the superstitious and curiously-named "earth ponies" into doing the bidding of the masters. All of this probably serves some kind of dark purpose which I have yet to discover.
The more time I spend on this strange planet, which the locals call "Equestria," the more questions I have. Why and how was I brought here? What's become of my beloved Arlen, and my family back on Earth? What's been going on in the alley since I've been gone? Alas, though these strange pastel-colored aliens are unusually friendly and helpful for a race of hostile alien invaders, they are unable or unwilling to provide me with the answers I seek.
I remain a stranger in a strange land, and have no choice but to watch. And wait.
[hr]
"Manitoba."
The pony just stared at me, a confused look on her face.
"Manitoba cigarettes."
"I'm really sorry sir, but I have no idea what that is."
I stared at the goods she had on display at her little stand. All sorts of farm-fresh produce could be had for a pittance, but there was no sweet life-sustaining tobacco anywhere to be found.
Oh well, it was worth a try.
"How much for that asparagus?"
She looked at where I was pointing.
"Two bits, sir."
I continued to stare at the asparagus. The pony behind the counter began to fidget uncomfortably.
"Um, if you don't want anything, could you please move? There's a whole line of ponies behind you."
I glanced over my shoulder. One of the mares gave me an icy look and tapped her hoof impatiently.
"Alright," I said. "Gimme some asparagus."
I placed two bits down on the counter, and a moment later I was leaving the shop, carrying a few stalks in my hand.
There was an empty Manitoba soft-pack in the breast pocket of my shirt. I had long since sucked out the last of the tobacco dust, but I couldn't bring myself to throw the pack away.
As I walked, I began to break the asparagus stalks into even-sized pieces about the size of a finger. Ponies glanced at me as I passed by. A few of them whispered to each other.
One by one, I slipped the asparagus stalks into the empty cigarette pack. I put the last one in my mouth. Then I pulled my Oswald Zippo out of my pocket, and held the flame to the tip of the asparagus stalk, singing it slightly. Several ponies were staring openly at me now. I inhaled.
In the 1950s, under a top-secret project known as MKUltra, the CIA was known to have experimented with mind control techniques and psychoactive drugs. These experiments permanently altered the perceptions and behavior of their unwitting test subjects. I could only assume that the ponies of Equestria had a similar program, and that I was their guinea pig.
Twilight Sparkle, a codename if ever I'd heard one, had cast some kind of spell on me, when the effects of her original spell had worn off and I began having nicotine fits again. As unsettling as I found her powers to be, I had to admit that she'd found a good workaround for my problem. Even though I knew perfectly well that I was just sucking on a slightly-burnt piece of asparagus, it felt and tasted like tobacco smoke in my lungs, and somehow managed to satisfy my cravings.
She also claimed that asparagus would prove to be a healthier vice than cigarettes, though I dismissed that as propaganda from the Equestrian vegetable-industrial complex.
I noticed that a young foal was staring curiously at me.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
I took the asparagus-cig out of my mouth and exhaled a puff of imaginary smoke.
"What are you doing?"
Her mother gave me a sour look, and quickly whisked the foal away.
I continued making my way through the streets of Ponyville. The place looked like some kind of medieval village, complete with straw-thatched roofs and unpaved streets. The layout was confusing, but I was slowly learning my way around.
Soon I was back at the treehouse. It looked like the kind of place the Keebler Elves would live in. The door was made for a pony, so I had to stoop to get in, but the inside was surprisingly roomy.
"Oh, hi Mr. Rusty."
Twilight's dragon friend was sitting on a couch in the main room of the library. I still hadn't quite figured out what the deal with him was. She called him a friend, but to me it seemed like he was something between a pet and a slave.
"What did you buy at the market?" he asked.
"Asparagus," I replied. "Want some?"
Spike made a face.
"Yecch, no thanks. I'll stick with gems."
He took another ruby out of the bowl he was holding, and tossed it into his mouth. He downed a few more in quick succession.
"Want one?" he asked.
"I'll try one."
8: Stranger in a Strange Land
Gribble's Log
Location: Ponyville, Equestria. Galaxy unknown.
Day Five
I have successfully infiltrated the aliens' society and am working on gaining their trust. The one called Twilight Sparkle, who I mistook for their queen, has taken me in and allowed me to stay with her for the time being. She lives in a giant tree, which seems like a strange place for a horse to live, but there is much about these creatures that I do not understand.
Equine society operates on a rigidly defined caste system not unlike a colony of fire ants. Unicorns, like Twilight and Sweetie Belle, can be identified by their distinctive horns, and appear to be the overlords of this society due to their manipulation of what they call "magic." The winged "pegasi" are their enforcers, who are able to somehow control the weather. They use this power to coerce the superstitious and curiously-named "earth ponies" into doing the bidding of the masters. All of this probably serves some kind of dark purpose which I have yet to discover.
The more time I spend on this strange planet, which the locals call "Equestria," the more questions I have. Why and how was I brought here? What's become of my beloved Arlen, and my family back on Earth? What's been going on in the alley since I've been gone? Alas, though these strange pastel-colored aliens are unusually friendly and helpful for a race of hostile alien invaders, they are unable or unwilling to provide me with the answers I seek.
I remain a stranger in a strange land, and have no choice but to watch. And wait.
[hr]
"Manitoba."
The pony just stared at me, a confused look on her face.
"Manitoba cigarettes."
"I'm really sorry sir, but I have no idea what that is."
I stared at the goods she had on display at her little stand. All sorts of farm-fresh produce could be had for a pittance, but there was no sweet life-sustaining tobacco anywhere to be found.
Oh well, it was worth a try.
"How much for that asparagus?"
She looked at where I was pointing.
"Two bits, sir."
I continued to stare at the asparagus. The pony behind the counter began to fidget uncomfortably.
"Um, if you don't want anything, could you please move? There's a whole line of ponies behind you."
I glanced over my shoulder. One of the mares gave me an icy look and tapped her hoof impatiently.
"Alright," I said. "Gimme some asparagus."
I placed two bits down on the counter, and a moment later I was leaving the shop, carrying a few stalks in my hand.
There was an empty Manitoba soft-pack in the breast pocket of my shirt. I had long since sucked out the last of the tobacco dust, but I couldn't bring myself to throw the pack away.
As I walked, I began to break the asparagus stalks into even-sized pieces about the size of a finger. Ponies glanced at me as I passed by. A few of them whispered to each other.
One by one, I slipped the asparagus stalks into the empty cigarette pack. I put the last one in my mouth. Then I pulled my Oswald Zippo out of my pocket, and held the flame to the tip of the asparagus stalk, singing it slightly. Several ponies were staring openly at me now. I inhaled.
In the 1950s, under a top-secret project known as MKUltra, the CIA was known to have experimented with mind control techniques and psychoactive drugs. These experiments permanently altered the perceptions and behavior of their unwitting test subjects. I could only assume that the ponies of Equestria had a similar program, and that I was their guinea pig.
Twilight Sparkle, a codename if ever I'd heard one, had cast some kind of spell on me, when the effects of her original spell had worn off and I began having nicotine fits again. As unsettling as I found her powers to be, I had to admit that she'd found a good workaround for my problem. Even though I knew perfectly well that I was just sucking on a slightly-burnt piece of asparagus, it felt and tasted like tobacco smoke in my lungs, and somehow managed to satisfy my cravings.
She also claimed that asparagus would prove to be a healthier vice than cigarettes, though I dismissed that as propaganda from the Equestrian vegetable-industrial complex.
I noticed that a young foal was staring curiously at me.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
I took the asparagus-cig out of my mouth and exhaled a puff of imaginary smoke.
"What are you doing?"
Her mother gave me a sour look, and quickly whisked the foal away.
I continued making my way through the streets of Ponyville. The place looked like some kind of medieval village, complete with straw-thatched roofs and unpaved streets. The layout was confusing, but I was slowly learning my way around.
Soon I was back at the treehouse. It looked like the kind of place the Keebler Elves would live in. The door was made for a pony, so I had to stoop to get in, but the inside was surprisingly roomy.
"Oh, hi Mr. Rusty."
Twilight's dragon friend was sitting on a couch in the main room of the library. I still hadn't quite figured out what the deal with him was. She called him a friend, but to me it seemed like he was something between a pet and a slave.
"What did you buy at the market?" he asked.
"Asparagus," I replied. "Want some?"
Spike made a face.
"Yecch, no thanks. I'll stick with gems."
He took another ruby out of the bowl he was holding, and tossed it into his mouth. He downed a few more in quick succession.
"Want one?" he asked.
"I'll try one."
>>376937
I put the gem he handed me into my mouth. It was hard, and pointy, and I couldn't really chew it. It tasted pretty awful, too. I wasn't quite sure how or why he managed to eat these things. I took it out of my mouth and slipped it into my pocket.
"I'll eat it later," I said.
Spike shrugged.
"Suit yourself," he said, and then wandered off towards the kitchen, popping rubies into his mouth as he went.
Weird guy.
I heard the sound of hoofsteps on the stairs.
"Oh, good, Mr. Rusty. You're home."
Twilight Sparkle was coming down the staircase, levitating some books with her creepy alien powers.
"I found some more books for you," she continued. "There's an introductory volume on the History of Equestria that I think you'll like. I also found my old civics text from when I was a school filly. You wanted to know more about Equestrian law and that should give you the broad strokes."
Warily, I stuck my hands into the glowing pink aura surrounding her horn, and took the stack of books. I could feel a tingle of energy, like a mild electric current, running through my body.
"Thanks," was all I said.
Several awkward seconds of silence passed.
"Oh! I remember what else I was going to tell you," said Twilight. "I talked to Cheerilee at the school, and she says it would be fine for you to join her class for a little while. I think it would be a good way for you to learn about life in Equestria, and maybe even make a few friends."
Why does this alien horse want me to make friends so badly?
She'd brought up the subject several times before, and I was naturally wary. At the same time, attending their school could give me some useful insight into their civilization.
"School, huh?" I put the asparagus stalk back in my mouth and took a long drag. "Alright. Tell her I'll be there."
I put the gem he handed me into my mouth. It was hard, and pointy, and I couldn't really chew it. It tasted pretty awful, too. I wasn't quite sure how or why he managed to eat these things. I took it out of my mouth and slipped it into my pocket.
"I'll eat it later," I said.
Spike shrugged.
"Suit yourself," he said, and then wandered off towards the kitchen, popping rubies into his mouth as he went.
Weird guy.
I heard the sound of hoofsteps on the stairs.
"Oh, good, Mr. Rusty. You're home."
Twilight Sparkle was coming down the staircase, levitating some books with her creepy alien powers.
"I found some more books for you," she continued. "There's an introductory volume on the History of Equestria that I think you'll like. I also found my old civics text from when I was a school filly. You wanted to know more about Equestrian law and that should give you the broad strokes."
Warily, I stuck my hands into the glowing pink aura surrounding her horn, and took the stack of books. I could feel a tingle of energy, like a mild electric current, running through my body.
"Thanks," was all I said.
Several awkward seconds of silence passed.
"Oh! I remember what else I was going to tell you," said Twilight. "I talked to Cheerilee at the school, and she says it would be fine for you to join her class for a little while. I think it would be a good way for you to learn about life in Equestria, and maybe even make a few friends."
Why does this alien horse want me to make friends so badly?
She'd brought up the subject several times before, and I was naturally wary. At the same time, attending their school could give me some useful insight into their civilization.
"School, huh?" I put the asparagus stalk back in my mouth and took a long drag. "Alright. Tell her I'll be there."
File (): 6FDFE781E59F36E0AEC0DF85EB80F9C1-3589092.jpg (3.4 MB, 2250x3000, 1725586890354628.jpg)
Hey all, apologies once again for the excessively long delay on updating this. Everything I've written so far, with some minor revisions and corrections, should now be uploaded to fimfiction. I'm trying to adhere to a more or less regular uploading schedule, but I also want to post fresh chapters here a few days to a week before they go up on fimfic. This place is where the green originated, so I feel like you guys should get first crack at reading it if you want.
Anyway, here's the latest chapter.
-------------
9: Miss Cheerilee's Home for Peculiar Children
Gribble's Log
Location: Ponyville Schoolhouse
Post-abduction Date: Day 7
Earth Date: Unknown
I have successfully gained the trust of the Horse People, and am working on infiltrating the upper echelons of their society. The rabbit hole goes even deeper than I thought.
The one called "Twilight" has enrolled me in the local school, which appears to be little more than an indoctrination center meant to instill ludicrous propaganda into the planet's youth. Children are taught to believe in a geocentric universe, in which the celestial bodies are moved at will by a pair of evil sisters who rule this planet with an iron fist and/or hoof. Twilight claims to be their disciple. If true, I was no doubt placed under her care so that she could study me firsthand. Firsthoof. Whatever.
[hr]
The door at the front of the schoolhouse opened, and an adult-sized pony entered the room. This one was crimson-colored, and had a picture of smiling flowers tatooed on her hindquarters. I had noticed these markings before; they seemed to be part of some kind of complex tagging system that the horses used to identify each other. Many of the younger ponies didn't seem to have them.
The crimson horse walked to the front of the room, and the foals seated all around me began to quiet down. I quickly slipped my journal back into my pocket.
I was squatting on a hard wooden bench about the height of a church kneeler, behind a tiny foal-sized desk. I had been placed in the back row so the other foals wouldn't have to crane their necks to see around me.
The other foals kept whispering to each other and casting curious glances in my direction. Sweetie Belle and her friends were here as well, although she seemed to be pointedly avoiding me.
I rolled a piece of asparagus between my teeth, and took a long, thoughtful puff.
At least they don't mind me smoking in here.
The big crimson pony cleared her throat, and the foals became silent.
"Class," she began, "We have a special visitor who is going to be joining us for a few days. This is... er... I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"
Everyone turned and looked at me. I ground out my asparagus on the surface of my desk, and stood up.
"Citizens of the Horse Planet," I said. "Do not be alarmed. My name is Rusty Shackleford. I am but a humble traveler, and I mean you no harm."
The foals all looked rather confused. One or two of them giggled. The crimson-colored pony at the front of the room looked somewhat uncomfortable.
"Er... yes," she stammered. "Class, let's all give a warm Ponyville welcome to... Rusty Shackleford."
"Hi, Rusty Shackleford," the foals said in unison.
A filly in the front row raised her hoof.
"Um, Miss Cheerilee? Why is Rusty Shackleford here?"
Miss Cheerilee looked flustered.
"Um, well, perhaps Rusty Shackleford would like to answer that question himself?"
I stood up again.
"I am a humble traveler from a distant world. I have come to study the people of the mighty horse planet, and learn their ways."
I glanced around. The foals mostly seemed confused. The one called Cheerilee was staring at me like I had bugs in my teeth. I glanced at Sweetie Belle, who was glaring at her desk and refusing to even look at me.
"Um, actually, scratch that," I said. "My name is Rusty Shackleford, and I am on vacation. Pay me no mind."
Another foal raised her hoof.
"Where are you from?"
"I come from a place called... uh..."
It occurred to me that I was probably being observed and recorded. I had seen "Twilight Sparkle" occasionally using her dragon-slave Spike to transcribe reports on "friendship," which she would then transmit to this mysterious "Princess Celestia" using some kind of fire-based teleportation system. I had no doubt my name was in these reports. For all I knew, this "Celestia" was making plans to invade Arlen even as I sat in that schoolroom.
Maybe I should make something up to throw them off the scent.
"Uh... I come from a place called... Oklahoma. My people are called... uh... Sooners."
I grimaced as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
It's a good thing Hank isn't here. If he heard me call myself a Sooner I'd never live it down.
Still, though, it had to be done. If the ponies were looking for a place to invade, better it be someplace far-off and uninhabited.
A third foal raised a hoof.
"Oklahoma? Where's that? Is it near Cloudsdale?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's somewhere in that general area."
Several more hooves went up, and the class began to chatter. The pony called Cheerilee cleared her throat and stomped her hoof lightly for attention.
"Alright class, settle down. I'm sure we all have lots of questions for Rusty Shackleford, but we need to get started on today's lesson—"
"I have a question."
Another foal had her hoof in the air, a light pink filly with a purple and white striped mane. Miss Cheerilee sighed.
"Yes, Diamond Tiara?"
"My father's been all over Equestria, and he's never told me about any place called Oklahoma. Did you just make it up?"
A little grey filly next to her snickered. Cheerilee stamped her hoof angrily.
"Diamond Tiara, that was a very rude question! Of course he didn't make it up. Did you, Rusty Shackleford?"
I shook my head.
"No ma'am, I can assure you that Oklahoma is all too real."
Several of the foals laughed. Diamond Tiara scowled.
"How come you're so weird looking?" she demanded.
Anyway, here's the latest chapter.
-------------
9: Miss Cheerilee's Home for Peculiar Children
Gribble's Log
Location: Ponyville Schoolhouse
Post-abduction Date: Day 7
Earth Date: Unknown
I have successfully gained the trust of the Horse People, and am working on infiltrating the upper echelons of their society. The rabbit hole goes even deeper than I thought.
The one called "Twilight" has enrolled me in the local school, which appears to be little more than an indoctrination center meant to instill ludicrous propaganda into the planet's youth. Children are taught to believe in a geocentric universe, in which the celestial bodies are moved at will by a pair of evil sisters who rule this planet with an iron fist and/or hoof. Twilight claims to be their disciple. If true, I was no doubt placed under her care so that she could study me firsthand. Firsthoof. Whatever.
[hr]
The door at the front of the schoolhouse opened, and an adult-sized pony entered the room. This one was crimson-colored, and had a picture of smiling flowers tatooed on her hindquarters. I had noticed these markings before; they seemed to be part of some kind of complex tagging system that the horses used to identify each other. Many of the younger ponies didn't seem to have them.
The crimson horse walked to the front of the room, and the foals seated all around me began to quiet down. I quickly slipped my journal back into my pocket.
I was squatting on a hard wooden bench about the height of a church kneeler, behind a tiny foal-sized desk. I had been placed in the back row so the other foals wouldn't have to crane their necks to see around me.
The other foals kept whispering to each other and casting curious glances in my direction. Sweetie Belle and her friends were here as well, although she seemed to be pointedly avoiding me.
I rolled a piece of asparagus between my teeth, and took a long, thoughtful puff.
At least they don't mind me smoking in here.
The big crimson pony cleared her throat, and the foals became silent.
"Class," she began, "We have a special visitor who is going to be joining us for a few days. This is... er... I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"
Everyone turned and looked at me. I ground out my asparagus on the surface of my desk, and stood up.
"Citizens of the Horse Planet," I said. "Do not be alarmed. My name is Rusty Shackleford. I am but a humble traveler, and I mean you no harm."
The foals all looked rather confused. One or two of them giggled. The crimson-colored pony at the front of the room looked somewhat uncomfortable.
"Er... yes," she stammered. "Class, let's all give a warm Ponyville welcome to... Rusty Shackleford."
"Hi, Rusty Shackleford," the foals said in unison.
A filly in the front row raised her hoof.
"Um, Miss Cheerilee? Why is Rusty Shackleford here?"
Miss Cheerilee looked flustered.
"Um, well, perhaps Rusty Shackleford would like to answer that question himself?"
I stood up again.
"I am a humble traveler from a distant world. I have come to study the people of the mighty horse planet, and learn their ways."
I glanced around. The foals mostly seemed confused. The one called Cheerilee was staring at me like I had bugs in my teeth. I glanced at Sweetie Belle, who was glaring at her desk and refusing to even look at me.
"Um, actually, scratch that," I said. "My name is Rusty Shackleford, and I am on vacation. Pay me no mind."
Another foal raised her hoof.
"Where are you from?"
"I come from a place called... uh..."
It occurred to me that I was probably being observed and recorded. I had seen "Twilight Sparkle" occasionally using her dragon-slave Spike to transcribe reports on "friendship," which she would then transmit to this mysterious "Princess Celestia" using some kind of fire-based teleportation system. I had no doubt my name was in these reports. For all I knew, this "Celestia" was making plans to invade Arlen even as I sat in that schoolroom.
Maybe I should make something up to throw them off the scent.
"Uh... I come from a place called... Oklahoma. My people are called... uh... Sooners."
I grimaced as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
It's a good thing Hank isn't here. If he heard me call myself a Sooner I'd never live it down.
Still, though, it had to be done. If the ponies were looking for a place to invade, better it be someplace far-off and uninhabited.
A third foal raised a hoof.
"Oklahoma? Where's that? Is it near Cloudsdale?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's somewhere in that general area."
Several more hooves went up, and the class began to chatter. The pony called Cheerilee cleared her throat and stomped her hoof lightly for attention.
"Alright class, settle down. I'm sure we all have lots of questions for Rusty Shackleford, but we need to get started on today's lesson—"
"I have a question."
Another foal had her hoof in the air, a light pink filly with a purple and white striped mane. Miss Cheerilee sighed.
"Yes, Diamond Tiara?"
"My father's been all over Equestria, and he's never told me about any place called Oklahoma. Did you just make it up?"
A little grey filly next to her snickered. Cheerilee stamped her hoof angrily.
"Diamond Tiara, that was a very rude question! Of course he didn't make it up. Did you, Rusty Shackleford?"
I shook my head.
"No ma'am, I can assure you that Oklahoma is all too real."
Several of the foals laughed. Diamond Tiara scowled.
"How come you're so weird looking?" she demanded.
>>378903
"Diamond Tiara!"
Miss Cheerilee looked exasperated. The little pink filly completely ignored her. She got up, trotted over to my desk, and made a small circle around it.
"You don't look like anypony I've ever seen before," she said, looking me up and down.
My eyes narrowed. There was something off about this one. She was wearing some sort of strange metal device on her head. It looked like a tiara, and her name was Diamond Tiara, and she had one of those butt-pictures that was shaped like a tiara. I was beginning to sense a theme. However, I wasn't fooled for a second. That thing on her head was an alien transmitter, I would have staked my reputation as a paranormal investigator on it.
From the way she was acting this filly clearly saw herself as an alpha dog, and she didn't seem to fear the authority of "Miss Cheerilee." Most likely, she was an enforcer sent by "Princess Celestia" to keep tabs on the rest of the class. More than likely everything I said was being recorded and transmitted back to some central command center in the horse capital.
"How come you're so weird looking?" she repeated. Her lieutenant, the little gray filly with the glasses who sat next to her, snickered.
Diamond Tiara had an impish smile on her face, and she was obviously trying to get my goat. But I wasn't going to fall for any equine head games. I pulled an asparagus stalk out of my pack, singed the tip with my lighter and took a puff.
"My friend Bill's even weirder looking than I am," I replied, exhaling.
The class laughed. Diamond Tiara's scowl deepened. She opened her mouth to say something else, but before she could get the words out Miss Cheerilee stomped her hoof again.
"That's enough!" she barked. The entire class quieted down. "Diamond Tiara, please return to your seat."
She shot me a nasty look, but did as her teacher asked. I smiled inwardly. If this was the best agent this "Celestia" had to send, I was going to bust this conspiracy wide open in no time.
"Alright, class," Cheerilee continued. "That's enough questions for Rusty Shackleford. Now it's time to get back to our lesson. Yesterday, we were talking about..."
The horse went off into a lecture. I tried to listen, but most of it sounded like nonsense. Apparently, they all believed that flying horses could command the weather, and destiny was controlled by something called "cutie marks." For a race of super-intelligent horses, they sure didn't seem all that bright.
What a pack of crazy conspiracy nuts, I thought.
"Diamond Tiara!"
Miss Cheerilee looked exasperated. The little pink filly completely ignored her. She got up, trotted over to my desk, and made a small circle around it.
"You don't look like anypony I've ever seen before," she said, looking me up and down.
My eyes narrowed. There was something off about this one. She was wearing some sort of strange metal device on her head. It looked like a tiara, and her name was Diamond Tiara, and she had one of those butt-pictures that was shaped like a tiara. I was beginning to sense a theme. However, I wasn't fooled for a second. That thing on her head was an alien transmitter, I would have staked my reputation as a paranormal investigator on it.
From the way she was acting this filly clearly saw herself as an alpha dog, and she didn't seem to fear the authority of "Miss Cheerilee." Most likely, she was an enforcer sent by "Princess Celestia" to keep tabs on the rest of the class. More than likely everything I said was being recorded and transmitted back to some central command center in the horse capital.
"How come you're so weird looking?" she repeated. Her lieutenant, the little gray filly with the glasses who sat next to her, snickered.
Diamond Tiara had an impish smile on her face, and she was obviously trying to get my goat. But I wasn't going to fall for any equine head games. I pulled an asparagus stalk out of my pack, singed the tip with my lighter and took a puff.
"My friend Bill's even weirder looking than I am," I replied, exhaling.
The class laughed. Diamond Tiara's scowl deepened. She opened her mouth to say something else, but before she could get the words out Miss Cheerilee stomped her hoof again.
"That's enough!" she barked. The entire class quieted down. "Diamond Tiara, please return to your seat."
She shot me a nasty look, but did as her teacher asked. I smiled inwardly. If this was the best agent this "Celestia" had to send, I was going to bust this conspiracy wide open in no time.
"Alright, class," Cheerilee continued. "That's enough questions for Rusty Shackleford. Now it's time to get back to our lesson. Yesterday, we were talking about..."
The horse went off into a lecture. I tried to listen, but most of it sounded like nonsense. Apparently, they all believed that flying horses could command the weather, and destiny was controlled by something called "cutie marks." For a race of super-intelligent horses, they sure didn't seem all that bright.
What a pack of crazy conspiracy nuts, I thought.
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>>378909
I also want to apologize. While I still think the FE thread debacle could have been handled better, why I left at the time was mostly because I was beyond busy irl. I could have handled that thing better tho. I still like everyone on this site. Yh.
I also want to apologize. While I still think the FE thread debacle could have been handled better, why I left at the time was mostly because I was beyond busy irl. I could have handled that thing better tho. I still like everyone on this site. Yh.
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>>378910
No need to apologize, you're entitled to your own point of view. You're a good poster and I enjoy your contributions. I'm happy you didn't leave and I'm happy you luv me. Incidentally, are you still interested in continuing that collaboration story we had going in the other thread? I actually rather enjoyed what we had going.
No need to apologize, you're entitled to your own point of view. You're a good poster and I enjoy your contributions. I'm happy you didn't leave and I'm happy you luv me. Incidentally, are you still interested in continuing that collaboration story we had going in the other thread? I actually rather enjoyed what we had going.
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>>378918
>'m happy you didn't leave and I'm happy you luv me.
Aww, thanks. ^^
>Incidentally, are you still interested in continuing that collaboration story we had going in the other thread? I actually rather enjoyed what we had going.
I really enjoyed what we had going too. I would be happy to continue. The ball is also in my court since I'm suppose to write the next chapter, which it has been for, if not already, very soon a year now.
I can get back to you on that, maybe next year ;^P
>'m happy you didn't leave and I'm happy you luv me.
Aww, thanks. ^^
>Incidentally, are you still interested in continuing that collaboration story we had going in the other thread? I actually rather enjoyed what we had going.
I really enjoyed what we had going too. I would be happy to continue. The ball is also in my court since I'm suppose to write the next chapter, which it has been for, if not already, very soon a year now.
I can get back to you on that, maybe next year ;^P