I… was fucked up. That was the best word for it, at least without using more creative curses. My head was swimming, my body was beaten, and I was too exhausted to move a muscle. Also, apparently I was stuck in a pile of rubble. Just great.

I didn’t know what happened after I stepped out of that van, but it felt like I just skydived into Hell itself. All I knew was that I wanted to strangle Bain right now. Sly, cocky weasel thought he could fuck me over like a two dollar hooker? When I get my hands on that damn hippie’s throat, I’ll make sure to twist it so tight not even a war-ravaged communist would be able to sneak in.

Wait… what the hell? Hippies, communists, and now… Republican ideals? War on drugs, smaller government, kill all communists, price control, reform welfare, kill all communists, punch a hippie in their dirty damn throat, and kill all communists!

The power of a thousand suns exploded in my chest as I jumped to my feet. Yes, I could feel it now. My body, my flabby, pasty-skinned, and riddled with phlebitis body, was whole once more. A good Republican body. A body that couldn’t be beat.

A shimmering light covered my suit, hard to make out but growing in illumination by the second. Touching my face, I could feel my cheeks, my sunken in eyes, and even my arching nose, all too real to just be a mask. Yes, it was real. I was actually Richard M. Nixon! Richard Motherfucking Nixon. Well, actually, the “M” stood for Milhous, but that didn’t matter. What only mattered now was that I was back, stronger and better than ever.

“Nixon is back!” I shouted with raised fists in victory, power coursing through my veins. The power to end—but mostly prolong—wars. The power to go to the moon and back. The power to brutalize those peace-loving, dope-smoking, free love endearing hippies into the dirty curb where they belong. The power of capitalism, of freedom, of apple pies and bald eagles and even football on Sunday mornings. It was the power of America. And by God, it was good to have it back.

Instinctively, I felt that familiar presence again. The cruel, dark, icy shroud of iron that covered the goodness of the world—democracy—in its totalarism shadow and subjected its people to a socialistic nightmare of tyranny and strange foreign customs alien to the American people. That evil that has blighted the Earth that I could sniff out with my large schnoz was none other than communism! Also, cake, for some strange reason. Communistic cake, while delicious, is just a blight of corruption on both the stomach and human soul.

I shouted my battle cry, “Aroo!” and jumped up to meet this red-skinned bastard head on with all my might. Floor after floor I jumped, hands and feet working in perfect symmetry to allow myself enough power to keep ascending to the top, where I had probably fallen from earlier on. Dear God, I hadn’t felt this good since that landslide victory re-election victory in 1972. McGovern’s tears were an excellent treat at my re-election party.

Before I knew it, only one more floor separated me and the commie threat to the nation. So with a final hurdled leap, I reached the top floor, both gloved fists raised for proper fisticuff brawling as I sized up my opponent.

Needless to say, I was baffled, and by the vaguely humanoid facial features the creature possessed I could tell it was as well. The first thing I noticed was that thing was a… horse. An actual, white-as-bread, horse, with wings and a horn to boot. Like some physical manifestation of a six-year old’s imagination, complete with the multihued, flowing mane and even pretty, flashy eyelashes. I didn’t know whether to sneer, hold back vomit, or spit in the abomination’s face.

Instead, I stood erect and said with unwavering resolution, “My name is Richard Nixon. I came here to spread democracy and introduce capitalism in a free world market.” I cracked my knuckles and frowned. “And I’m all out of free world markets.”

The creature continued to balk at the mere sight of me, probably so highly impressed by my freedom-forged body and take-no-prisoners American attitude that I had taken its breath away. However, after several seconds, it shook its head and asked, “I’m sorry… who are you again? And how in the name of Tartarus did you survive that fall? That’s more than a dozen flights of floors you just went through.”

“The power of patriotism coursing through my veins kept me invulnerable to any damage,” I said, pounding on my chest. Once again again that mysterious light from before shined over my suit, shimmering in its mysterious energies.

“Patriotism? Is that some sort of magic?” the creature, clearly female from the uncertainty in her voice and girlish nativity, asked.

“What? No, patriotism is the most powerful force in the God fearing nation of America. Whenever you see a bald eagle soar across the sky, that’s patriotism. Whenever a hippie is beaten up in the streets, that’s patriotism. Whenever a newborn child suckles on the sweet teat of liberty, that’s patriotism. Whenever a red-hearted, yellow-bellied communist is defeated before the might of democracy, now that’s patriotism.” I swelled up my flabby chest and shook my jowls. “American patriotism is the lifeblood of the United States, and by God does it feel good coursing through my veins and pancreas.”

The creature’s jaw hung open and loose, a word on the edge of her lip that was unable to be pronounced. Finally, she covered her face with a hoof and sighed deeply. “Okay… okay, certainly not the strangest situation I’ve been involved with.” Coughing lightly under her breath, the creature reached out with a hoof and said, “Mr. Nixon, my name is Celestia, Princess of Equestria. It’s a… pleasure to meet you… even under such inconvenient circumstances.”

I slapped her hoof out of the way. “First off, Missy, that’s Mr. President. Secondly, where in Washington’s name is Equestria? Is it one of those African countries that I keep on overthrowing the governments of to impose an American sponsored leader?”

“Not exactly. Equestria is a land populated by ponies, of which I am one,” she said, pointing to her jewel embroidered chest and then to her crown. “I rule over my little ponies as their princess.”

I tapped my finger against my chin—both of them—and summed Celestia up with a quick scan of my eyes. White, obsessed with jewelry, and had enough of a backbone to not cower at my mere presence. Turn her human and that would’ve been the working class woman that I so intensely despised for staying out of the kitchen where she belonged.

“So, you’re saying you’re a princess?” I asked. “Such as one that wasn’t democratically elected through the electoral college based on voter turnout from each district or state of the country?”

“Uh… not exactly. I’ve been ruling over the nation of Equestria for over a thousand years now,” Celestia said, her earlier misgivings overshadowed by her confidence and pride. “A thousand years of peace and utopia, if I may be so bold to add. My ponies have lived in relative harmony for so long now, unrest or violence is a rare event.”

My nostrils flared and a vein bulged on my temple. That creeping feeling from before ran up my backside, like when a hippie applies for welfare. You know it’s a dirty plot right from the get-go.

“So, you’re a communist?” I said, stating the socialist in the room.

“I’m not exactly sure what that is,” Celestia said. “If you mean rule as a monarch, then I suppose you can classify me as one.”

I felt a festering storm of conservative fury build up in my stomach, and I was left at a standstill what to choose next. Discreetly discuss the mysterious terms of my sudden, mysterious appearance in this leader’s country and reach a diplomatic decision of what course of action to take next? Or, I could do battle with this terrifying tyrant of treachery and revolutionize this downtrodden nation in the proper, American way of life with freedom and capitalism for all.

My fist, whose sole purpose was to break the chiseled jaw of communism, made up the choice for me. In one swift motion I punched the pony right smack-dab in her face, the feel of teeth loosening beneath my knuckles a satisfying experience as I knocked the damn white commie bastard off her feet… erm, hooves.

The socialist fell with a satisfying thud against the floor, sliding several feet away due to the force of impact. Smiling, I lifted up my gloved hand and opened and closed my fist several times, the awesome power from before still supplying energy to even my smallest muscle movements far beyond their normal potentials.

Before I knew it, however, I too was knocked off my feet due to a heavy force striking me square in the chest. With the wind knocked out of me I flew through the air, only stopping when my backside collided with the wall, cracking the stone and creating a dent several inches thick.

Falling to my knees to suck in some breath, I looked up to see Celestia already charging at me in a furious trot, her eyes glowing a brilliant golden along with her horn which was aimed right at my heart. I smiled, adrenaline and patriotism coursing through my veins.

“Oh, so you think you can knock ol’ Nixon down while he’s out?” I asked, jumping off the wall and to my feet. Taking a running start, I yelled, “Well, this Dick has a few tricks up his sleeve, hippie scumbag!”

And with that I met Celestia in a headway impact of two highly powerful opposing forces. But I was victorious in the end, the superior power of patriotism easily overcoming whatever strength she drew from. Also, because I kicked her right in the jugular at just the right moment. “Nixon-kick!” I shouted, the following action resulting in a flying communist striking the wall at the opposite end of the hallway—along with breaking it, I might add—creating a sizable hole where the wall once stood as Celestia was showered by falling debris.

Celestia pulled herself out of the rubble, shaking bits of stone and dust off her coat while flapping her wings. Breathing at a rapid rate now, she asked, “How… how is it possible you just did that? No magic in all of Equestria could possibly do what you just did.”

“Bah, magic is just a myth. Just like equal opportunity workplaces for women,” I said, walking at a leisurely pace to my target. “Both of which I shall stamp into the ground as mere fibs.”

“But how do you suppose you got here? How do you think you can survive and do what you just did? No normal pony or… whatever you are, is capable of pulling off those feats,” Celestia said, horn once again shining in that strange, golden light. “Plus, you’re glowing.”

I stopped in my tracks, looking at my arms, which were indeed illuminated in a strange field of light. Feeling something wiggle in my pocket, I withdrew my rabbit’s foot from before that I always brought on heists for good luck. It was actually… moving. Kicking and jumping, almost as if it was alive. Dropping it at my feet, I turned my beady-eyed gaze to Celestia and said, “In the name of Stonewall Jackson’s right testicle, what is that?”

The door between us opened up, another one of those ponies stepping out with a very disgruntled look on her face. “Dear sister, could you please keep it quiet for five minutes longer? Equestria isn’t going to care if the moon is late for another five minutes!”

It took the newcomer about ten seconds to realize there was a hole at one end of the hallway where her sister was located, while at the other end I stood erect, with a proud upthrust bosom.

She blinked several times, rubbed her eyes with a hoof and shifted her gaze repeatedly from the left to the right. “Am… I still dreaming?”

“No, but you’re about to be!” I said, running to her with my fist raised.

“Luna, look out!” Celestia shouted, running to her sister at a breakneck speed.

“I don’t usually hit women without drinking enough liquor, but I’ll kindly make an exception for you!” I said, jumping as I dropped the hammer of freedom that was my fist onto Luna. “Nixon-smash!”

---

“I have to say, Twilight, you were right. Tonight seems like a delightful time for a picnic under the stars,” Rarity said, unfurling a blanket on the grass.

“Especially if that shooting stars show you mentioned is gonna appear tonight,” Rainbow Dash said, zipping overhead. She performed multiple loopty-loops before landing on the grass, an excited smile on her face. “This is gonna be totally awesome!”

Applejack set down a bushel of apples on the blanket, already taking a seat with a content sigh. Staring over at Twilight, she tilted her head and asked, “Something the matter, sugarcube? You’ve been starin’ in the distance since we got here.”

Twilight shrugged, peering closer to the mountain that Canterlot was situated upon. “Oh, nothing, it just seems that something strange is happening in the castle.”

“Strange how?” Fluttershy asked, joining Twilight’s side to gaze at the mountain.

“Well, odd lights and smoke appearing in the air, for one thing,” Twilight said.

“Ooh, so they’re having a party?” Pinkie asked, hopping in place next to Twilight.

An explosion could be seen in one of the distant towers of the castle, debris flying out in a shower beneath the light of the setting sun.

Twilight gulped. “I don’t think so. Whatever it is, I think the princesses might be in trouble.”