"Chapter One: Inertia"

{Canterlot, 1999}

"Got the Toshiba man. Eddie pays a hundred for Toshiba... I in the rock tonight man." The pony bandit snarled. "Make me puke, these folks can't feed they foals but they got a Toshiba? Now Fungi Heart got Toshiba... Yes sir, I am in the rock big time!"

(Yeah... Fungi Heart. I PANICKED OKAY?!)

*jingle jingle*

"What the hell?" The sound of tricycle tires were heard around the corner as Heart spoke. He moved a little closer to inspect it, but what he saw was rather creepy. A 17 year old human male was dressed head to toe in black and bore jester makeup on his face.

"JESUS H... CHRIST!" Fung yelled startled at the man's presence. "Do I have your attention Mr. Fungi?" the man asked.

"MY FUCKIN'ATTENTION?! Man you scared the crap outta me! Damn!" Fungi harshly replied. "You just cost me a hundred bucks, pal... I think you better cough up some cash..."

"Shelby the Giant said you know T-Bird..." the human announced in a whispering tone. Not even paying attention to the human, Lei just flicked out his switchblade.

"C'mon, MONEY, man, MONEY... Now."

This human was really starting piss Fung off, his nerves would finally break as the human muttered:

"...Tom Tom... Top Dollar... Funboy... Tin Tin..."

"THAT'S IT! YOU ALL DONE!" he yelled, forcing the knife in the man's chest cavity. The man looked down at his wound completely unaffected as he gripped the handle.

"Man, you must be dusted not to feel that" Heart spoke up breaking the silence.

"Pain?" the man replied. "I know pain at the molecular level... it pulls at my atoms... sings to me in an alphabet of fear... I am the Boiling Man... Come to break the bones of your sins meat puppet". The man started to pull at the knife, dragging it out and licking the blade dressed in his blood. "Try again?" he asked.

Fungi shook a little before he spoke again. "I... I think I'll pass"

"T-Bird and others... where are they? Shelby the Giant didn't know... he said you would"

"Shelby wouldn't roll on me, man" Heart replied fearfully.

"Oh he told... it took three digits, but he told". The man reached for his pocket and pulled out a bloody gardener's clips. "...You lying'..." muttered the now frightened earth pony.

"I would've brought Shelby's fingers as documentation, but he had to eat them also".

(Yeah they have fingers. But can ya blame me?! It's so cool!)

"Oh man, T-Bird kill me sure! He would kill me sure if I told!" Heart yelled.

...

"Fingers or toes?" the man with malice in his grin replied.

"Ok! Ok! Ok! I ain't seen T-Bird or Tin Tin in weeks but Tom Tom's down by Gratiot and Ten. Top has a place in Ponyville... Funboy's in the county till the 27th... you gonna kill me now?"

"Why Mr. Fungi, I already count you among the dead" he replied staring down at the pony. His gaze then a fell upon a streetlight shining ever so bright. "Look! It's a full moon..."

"That's a streetlight ghost man..."

"It was a full moon that night too..."

"You a loon, man..."

The man then placed a hand on the side of Heart's face with his malicious grin. "Tell them I'm coming Mr. Fungi"

Heart slid down against the wall behind as the man began to trail off... but not before asking one last question.

"Oh and Mr. Fungi?"

"Y-yes sir?"

"Are there spots in a leopard's eyes also?"

A/N: Now for some poetry seeing that this chapter is done...

"Ordinary Nocturne"

One breath tears operatic rents in these partitions,

Destroys the pivots of eroded roofs,

Dispels the limits of the hearth,

Makes casements disappear.

Along the vine I came,

Using a gargoyle as a footrest,

And into this carriage which shows its age

In convex windowpanes, in rounded panels,

In tortuous upholstery.

Hearse of my lonely sleep,

Shepherd's cart of my stupidity...

This vehicle spins on the grass of an overgrown highway;

In a blemish high on the right window

Revolve pale lunar fictions, breasts and leaves.

A very dark green and very dark blue blot out the image;

We unhitch and unharness beside a patch of gravel.

-Here we will whistle for storms, for Sodoms and Solymons,

For wild beasts and armies.

(Postilion and dream horses will ride on through more dense and suffocating groves, to sink me to my eyelids in the silken spring.)

-And drive ourselves off, whipped through splashing water

And spilled drinks, to roll on the barking of bulldogs...

One breath dispels the limits of the hearth.

-Arthur Rimbaud

A/N: Dear god this was realllllllllllllllllllllllll llllllllllllllllllllllllllll llllllllllllllllllllllllllll llllllllllllllllllllllly long to write. Later bros and broettes!