John Faust had never thought of himself as a coward.

He admitted he wasn’t he bravest man alive- spiders gave him the shivers, and he dreaded the times when his mom got angry-but he still saw himself as braver than most. When he watched horror movies, he’d ignore the supposedly scary parts and just laugh at the stupidity of the protagonists. Once, when his friends dared him to walk through a graveyard at night, he’d walked right through it without so much as ashiver.

But now, as the lanky 22 year-old stared at the small black book on his bed, he could honestly say that, for the first time in his life, he was scared stiff.

There was nothing really sinister about the little book. It looked innocent enough, with its faded black cover and its slightly yellowed pages. It could have been one of countless books collecting dust on a bookshelf somewhere. But something in John’s gut kept whispering to him, telling him that what he saw was just a disarming disguise, like a clown mask on a serial killer.

With a gulp, John slowly opened the little black tome, the old bindings cracking as he turned to the first page. The yellowed pages were filled with lines of closely-packed nonsense words written in spidery, nearly illegible handwriting. Something about the words bothered John; whenever he tried to focus on a particular sentence or word, his eyes started watering and smarting as if he’d just chopped a bushel of onions.

In John’s head a thousand little voices popped up, all chanting this is insane, this is insane like a group of angry protesters. John wholeheartedly agreed with them; seriously, did he really going to believe that this book would-- to quote the old man at the antique store who’d sold it to him-- “whisk him off to the land of his dreams?” That was the kind of thing you’d hear from those homeless guys on the street- the ones who were always screaming about how the government was trying to control our minds through the microwave or whatever. At best, it was kinda funny. At worst, it was a one-way ticket to the nuthouse.

John then turned to his study. Then again, what do I have to lose? His desk was piled high with unpaid bills, all of which were stamped “Last notice”, while his wastebaskets were overflowing with enough beer cans and whiskey bottles to fill a small bathtub.
Folks are dead. Friends are gone. Don’t have the nerve to kill myself. He laid down on his bed and sighed. Much as he feared it, the book was his only escape route.

On a whim, John shut the little book and reached under his bed, pulling out a worn Fluttershy plushie. He cradled the little toy in his arms and scratched one of its tattered ears, relishing the feel of the faux fur under his fingers.

He knew exactly where he wanted to go.

After stuffing the plushie back under the bed, John reopened. Might need a little motivation first. He leaned over to his nightstand and took a swig from a half-empty bottle of “motivation”-- which bore an eerie resemblance to Jack Daniels. The liquid burned his throat like magma, driving his fear away.

All right, John wiped his mouth and placed a finger on the first string of letters. The page felt stretchy and warm- more like flesh than paper. Lets do this. He took a deep breath and started chanting.

“Cor’r’er’t’y
’aruqwa Eck
yr’ghim’mi’Eck
’So”

John clutched his throat. It felt like he’d just coughed up a ball of razor blades. He pushed aside the pain and continued chanting

Oy’th’byx’thgan’nin
pgh’ith’mytr’ghuips’ ECK
bhith’u’j’tywr’opu!”

Something rippled through John’s body. His hands gripped the book as if he were trying to throttle it. The words began to force their way out of from his mouth, like convicts breaking out of a prison.

pouowq-’Eckm’
B’v’ety’-qey...
“A’lry’yayakyrchEckfrygt-ECK-- ”

After the last “Eck”, the words became an eerie, inhuman howling. Impossible syllables and mind-twisting consonants poured from John’s mouth like a chemical spill. Every time he spoke, the universe seemed to wince, as if the words were as painful to it as they were to John.

Finally, the last word left John’s lips. He closed the book and spat out a wad of half-clotted blood. His throat felt like he’d been screaming non-stop for days.

The room became deathly quiet. Now what? There hadn’t been any flashes of light. No mystic portals to another world, no magic carpets. He was still very much a resident of Earth.
Maybe I did something wrong...

A strange, queesy feeling erupted in John’s stomach. Something tugged at his gut, and a strange, blurry figure materialized in front of him.

What the...?

The figure slowly morphed, its fuzzy form shifting and molding itself like clay into a strangely beautiful woman.

Normally, John would’ve killed to have a beautiful woman in his bedroom. Not this time. Something about this woman wasn’t right. Her smile didn’t look natural- it looked artificial like the painted-on smile of a doll. The woman’s milky skin-if it was skin- had a strange sheen to it, like the glazed ceramic.

For a minute, John just stared at the woman, not moving, barely breathing. Finally, he worked up the courage to talk.

“Who are you?”

The woman turned to John. Both her eyes were closed, but John had the feeling that she could see him perfectly fine.

“Did the book summon you?”

The women nodded. A drop of black liquid dripped from her left eye.

“Can you do it?” John said. “Can you take me to the land of my dreams?”

Images popped into John’s head. A price tag on a stuffed bear. The sticker on a used car.

John thought for a second. What was she trying to say?

Ok, lets see. He thought for a second. Price. That was it. He had to pay a price. “I’ll pay it.”

The woman walked over to John and took his hand in her own. Despite its glazed appearance, her skin was surprisingly rough, like stretchy sandpaper. John felt a strange, tugging sensation, as if something was being sucked out of him through. More of black tears trickled from the woman’s eyes, as if she were crying ink, and she let go.

John cradled his hand. He could see a small, almost invisible pinprick in the middle of his palm.

“Ok, now wha-”

Before John could finish his sentence, an ink-black hole appeared beneath him. For a split second, he stood suspended in mid-air, like a cartoon character who hadn’t realized that he’d just run off a cliff. Then gravity took over and he plunged into the pit.

As John fell, his body was wracked by incredible pain. His body began to run like soft clay, twisting and molding itself into impossible shapes, like play-doh in the hands of some sadistic toddler. The now-plastic blob that used to be John contracted into a ball and began to shrink. Within seconds, it was the size of an orange, then a grape, then a dust speck, then a proton, and then...

POP!

John’s body re expanded like a carnival inflatable. He saw a bright flash of light, accompanied by the taste of burned paper. The next thing he knew, he was lying face-down on a bed of grass.

-

Thhput!

John spat out a mouthful of strangely sweet grass, like a baseball player spitting out a wad of tobacco.

Wuh- where...am I? He pushed himself up, reeling like a drunk on a balancing beam. Whatever had just happened had seriously screwed with his mind. Thoughts drifted through his brain aimlessly, like party balloons in a tornado.

John slapped himself on the side of the head. The metaphorical gears in his brain slowly started to turn again. Thoughts were filed into their appropriate categories.

Once his mind was up and running again, John took a good look at his surroundings. He was standing in what looked like a sun-drenched meadow, surrounded by wildflowers. While it looked normal enough, it was pretty obvious this wasn’t Earth; everything, including himself, had a flat, sort of cartoony look to it; like the entire world was one huge drawing. Colors appeared brighter, with no visible shades or hues, and everything had a thick, colorful outline around it.

That wasn’t the only weird thing about this place. There was a strange feeling in the air, as if the air was charged with electricity. It wasn’t bad, not at all. In fact, it was kind of comforting, as if every atom of every molecule of this place was giving him a pat on the back.

The last of the cobwebs cleared from John’s brain. A smile spread across his face.

I’m actually here!” He pumped a fist “Yes!”

Equestria. He was in Equestria!

John jumped around like a demented kangaroo shouting “Yes Yes Yes!” It’d worked! The book had actually worked!

The sweet Equestrian air flowed into John’s nostrils. He sighed, drunk with happiness. This place was amazing: every gulp of air, every ray of sunlight on his face felt like a friendly pat on the back. It was as if this universe was saying “Hi, welcome to Equestria!”

Once all the joy was out of his system, John sat down and started planning his new life.

Okay,first things first: jobs. Going to need a job” John thought for a second: Sweet Apple Acres might need a few new farmhands, and Sugarcube Corner might need another assistant. And if those didn’t work, Rarity might need some help at her boutique.

Ok, now, lodgings. Where am I going to live? Rarity’s place was an option; she was the Element of Generosity after all. If not, he could always try Applejack. At the very least, she might have a barn he could sleep in.

Now, the Princesses. What about them? Well, they didn’t seem like the xenophobic type; they’d probably welcome him to Equestria with open-

“Hmm hm hmm hmm…”

John stopped his planning and cupped a hand to his right ear. That humming, where was it coming from?
He ran up a nearby hill for a better look. There, on the crest of a small hummock, was a small, grass-covered cottage, surrounded by birdhouses and pens of all shapes and sizes. John’s heart almost exploded with joy; there was only one pony that could belong to.

Carefully, John tiptoed his way over to the cottage; he didn’t want to frighten its owner any more than he already would. He pressed his body against the wooden sides as if he were trying to merge with them, then slowly, carefully inched his way around the corner.

“Okay, girls, I’ll see you all tomorrow!”

John started. That voice. There was only one creature alive with that sweet, angelic voice. He tiptoed through the lawn and dove into a nearby bush. He pushed aside some of the thin branches, and saw a small, off-yellow pegasus emerged from a chicken coop, covered in white feathers.

John’s heart leapt. It was her; the sweetest mare in all of Equestria.

Fluttershy.

The little pegasus looked exactly as she did in the show-- bubblegum-pink mane, off-yellow coat, and the cutest little muzzle ever.
No. John corrected himself. No, this was better. On the show, she was just an image drawn on flash. Her voice was provided by a voice actor. Her personality was given to her by a team of writers.
Here, she was a living, breathing creature...and the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
The little pegasus shook herself like a wet dog, scattering feathers everywhere. “Lets see…” she said. “I’ve swept out the chicken coop, fed the bear, and watered the garden. What else do I need to do ?” The pegasus put a hoof to her chin. John could feel his heart melting like candle wax- everything Fluttershy did radiated cuteness.

The pegasus perked up. “Oh my! I need to get ready for my spa appointment with Rarity!”

With that, Fluttershy trotted into the cottage and closed the door. Once the coast was clear,John slinked up to the cottage door and raised a hand, trembling with excitement. He’d been waiting for this since 2010.

Knock knock knock

John put his hands in his pockets and waited, rocking on his heels and whistling a little tune. Any minute now, he would come face to face with the best pony in all of Equestria.

Time passed. Nothing happened. John checked his watch. It’d been ten minutes already. What was taking her so long?

A little confused, John knocked again. Still nothing

Knock knock knock

Also nothing. John frowned; why wasn’t she answering the door?

Guess there’s only one thing to do now. Taking a deep breath, John gripped the doorknob and slowly opened the door.

“Hello?” He called out, squeezing his lanky frame into the cottage. “Hell-”

Conk!

John’s head connected with a low-hanging beam.

“Damnit, sonuva…” John rubbed his head. He crouched down and carefully crawled through the cottage. The dwelling was not designed for humans. Everything from the furniture to the ceiling was scaled down to pony size. It was like he was crawling through some kid’s playhouse.

John could hear Fluttershy rummaging through something upstairs.

“Hello!” He yelled.

Nothing. John raised an eyebrow. Was Fluttershy deaf? That’d really screw with canon.

With the caution of a child sneaking into his parents room, John slowly crawled up the stairs to Fluttershy’s bedroom and squeezed his way in. He could see Fluttershy standing in front of a simple mirror, brushing her silky mane.

“hmmm hmm hm hmmm hm..” Fluttershy hummed as she ran the brush through her beautiful mane. Each stroke smoothed the mane to an almost watery smoothness. A perverted part of John’s mind wondered what’d be like to run his hand through that mane.

“Hello?” John said as softly as he could.

Fluttershy opened her eyes. John’s heart almost leaped into his throat. Finally, she’d heard him!

“I wonder ” Fluttershy mumbled. She grabbed her saddlebags and fished through them until she pulled up a small bag. She looked through it. “Good. I’ve got enough bits.” She placed the bag back in her saddlebags “I don’t want Rarity to have to pay three times in a row. “

What the hell? John cupped his hands around his mouth.

“Hello!”

Still nothing. He might as well have yelled at a wall.

Maybe she’s not completely deaf, just hard of hearing. John carefully crawled up to Fluttershy; it took all of his willpower not to scoop the little pony up in his arms and squeeze her like a living teddy bear. Slowly, carefully, he held leaned over to the little pegasus- she smelled quite nice; like warm milk mixed with an animal musk.

“HELLO!”

Nothing. Fluttershy didn’t even turn her head.

I guess she is deaf. He waved a hand in front of Fluttershy’s grapefruit-sized eyes. “Hey!”
Still nothing. The Pegasus just kept brushing her mane, humming her little song.
“C’mon!” John stuck out a finger and gently poked the pony; her coat felt like the softest silk imaginable. The perverted part of his mind resurfaced, cranking out fantasies of him stroking that soft, silky coat over and over again.

Nothing happened. John poked Fluttershy a little harder. Still nothing.

The hell is going on?! This didn’t make any sense. He could sorta understand Fluttershy being hard of hearing, but she couldn’t be blind, deaf, and numb! Frantic, John grabbed the comforter off of Fluttershy’s bed and threw it over her head. If this didn’t get her attention, nothing would.

The thick woolen blanket covered Fluttershy like a net. The pegasus jumped with an adorable “eep!”

Yes! John pulled the blanket off. “Hi! My name’s John and I’d-

[revert]

Everything seemed to flicker for a second, as if the universe had closed its eyes to sneeze. In an instant, the blanket vanished, then instantly appeared on Fluttershy’s bed. All the while, the little pegasus kept brushing her mane as if nothing had ever happened.

“There we go.” Fluttershy put the brush down and ran a hoof through her mane. She looked at a cuckoo clock hanging on the wall. “Goodness, look at the time!” With that, she threw on her saddlebags and galloped down the stairs.

John just stood there, too stunned to move.

Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

-

John walked down the dirt path to Ponyville, struggling to keep himself together.

It wasn’t easy. He’d just arrived in the land of his dreams, only to find out that his beloved Fluttershy couldn’t see him. No, not just that. Even if he’d been completely invisible, she would’ve heard him yelling. And even if she’d somehow been deaf, she would have felt him poke her.

No, it was as if he’d never existed in the first place.

“Maybe it’s just Fluttershy,” John told himself. Yeah, maybe there was something about her that made it impossible for her to detect him. He didn’t know, maybe it was some weird curse or something.

It was a weak hope, but it was all John had.

As John ran along the dirt path to Ponyville, he saw a green earth pony pulling a cart. “Hey!” John waved his hands over his head. “Hey, you there!”

Nothing. The earth pony just walked right past him, mumbling about how much of a flankhole his boss was.

John stood in front of the stallion and planted his feet. He held out a hand; this pony was going to notice him one way or another.

“HEY!”

The earth pony walked up to John. His muzzle touched the palm of John’s hand... and passed right through John with no resistance.

John’s heart stopped for a second. He fell to his knees as if he’d been punched in the gut. This...this was insane. He could believe that the natural laws of this world were a little more flexible here than they were back home- it was based on a cartoon after all- but was just crazy!

John heard the flapping of wings. He turned around to see a light blue pegasus mare touch down just a few feet from him.Another desperate hope formed in his head. You know what they said about the third time being the charm.

“Hey!” John ran up to the little winged horse. “Can you see me?!”

The winged horse studied a watch on her foreleg and frowned. “Where is he?” She cursed, completely ignoring the alien monkey in front of her.
John reached under the pegasus’ wing and grabbed one of her downy primary feathers. He gave a sharp yank, and the feather popped loose. The little horse jumped with a “Yipe!”

John’s spirit soared. “Hey my name is John and...”

[revert]

Something tugged at John’s stomach. In an instant, the feather disappeared from his hand and reappeared on the pegasus’ wing. The mare stood there, mumbling something about how her coltfriend would be late for his own funeral.

John’s stomach churned and bubble like a cauldron. No no no no no! This couldn’t be happening! This had to be some kind of bad dream! A weak smile spread across John’s face.Yeah, that was right, a bad dream. He must have conked his head when he arrived here Any minute now he’d wake up in Fluttershy’s cottage, with that adorable little pegasus hovering over him.

John pinched his arm, trying to wake himself up. Nothing. He pinched his arm again, leaving two crescent-shaped dents in his arms. Still nothing. He pinched harder this time; blood welled up from the dents. Again, nothing. Whatever this was, it was no dream.

Frantic, John tore down the crude dirt road, leaving a cloud of dust behind him like a cartoon character. In the distance, he could see the rooftops of a small town. Ponyville! Any brony worth his salt would have recognized that charming, if somewhat dysfunctional, little town. There had to be somepony there he would notice him!

At least, that was the hope.

-

Under normal circumstances, John would’ve found Ponyville quite homey

Its European-style thatched-roof buildings and unpaved roads gave the place a sort of old-world charm, while the creative design of the shops gave it a sort of whimsical, fairy-tale look. It was the kind of place where even a stranger was a friend.

Right now, however, John’s panic overpowered any appreciation for the local architecture.

“Hello?!” John dashed through the streets, waving his arms as if he were trying to fly. All around him, ponies shopped, argued, haggled, chatted, and walked. Not one of them mentioned the strange monkey-thing running around the streets.

John tripped over an inconvenient stick and found himself face first in the grassy road. He spat out a mouthful of grass for the second time that day. Something sparked in his head I’ve got it! John crouched down and tore up a bit of lime-green grass, exposing the loamy soil beneath. He proceeded to tear up the road until he’d gouged out the word “Help” in the soil.
An orange earth pony stallion stopped by the gouged-out letters. For a second, the little marshmallow-horse tilted his head down, as if he were studying the words.

John was ecstatic. Yes! Finally, somepony would notice him.

[revert]

In the blink of an eye, the gouged-out letters filled themselves, leaving the grass completely unscarred. The stallion just walked on by, whistling to himself.

John wrung his hands together like wet washcloths. He snapped a stick off of a convenient tree. Ok, new tactic.

He started running around the town square, waving the stick around as if it were a banner.

“C’mon see the stick!” He yelled. “ Woooo! There’s a stick just floating around in midair. That’s
certainly not normal!”

Nothing. The stick might as well have been invisible.

John walked up to a green unicorn mare haggling with a fruit vendor.

“5 bits a pear.” Said the mare

“5 and a half.” Said the fruit vendor.

“5 and a quarter.”

“5 and a half!”

As the unicorn and the vendor haggled, John took his stick and gently poked her marshmallow-like flank, feeling like a huge pervert. “Hello?” He poked the mare’s flank a little harder. “Hello?!”

“5 and ⅖. That’s as far as I’m gonna go!” The mare barked.

Maybe I need to be more forceful. John pulled back the stick and gently slapped the mare’s flank. The mare continued arguing over the price of the pears. Lets try again. Another slap with the stick. Still nothing.
Something inside John snapped. “Notice me!” He pulled back the stick and gave the little horse’s rump a solid whack.

“What the…?” The little horse whinnied and reared up on her hind legs. A blue-purple bruise appeared on her cheek.

“Sorry!”John winced in sympathy. He’d never forgive himself for that.

For a second, the pony looked confused. John’s heart leapt. Finally!

“Listen, can you help-”

[revert]

The bruise shrank into nothingness and the mare went back to her haggling, as if she’d never been attacked by some being from another universe.

John frowned. Maybe I need to hit her a little harder

Thwack!

This time the unicorn didn’t even react. Another bruise formed on her side, then faded as quickly as it came. .Frantic, John went into a frenzy, whacking the little pony like a pinata. A veritable map of bruises spread across the mares’ ’ back, each one fading as quickly as it appeared. All the while, she haggled as if nothing were happening.

John grabbed the pony by her shoulders and brought his face up to hers.“Can. You. See. Me?!”

The pony wriggled and squirmed in John’s hands. John fought to keep her in his grip; for a marshmallowy horse, her body was surprisingly strong.

For a second, there was a hint of confusion in the mares’ eyes.
“Can you see me?!” John yelled! “Please tell me you can see me!”

The mare opened her mouth…

[revert]

The universe flickered, and the mare returned to her original position. Completely oblivious to John.

A dim, guttering light flickered in John’s head. Twilight. that unicorn was one of the most powerful magic users in Equestria; if anypony could detect him, it’d be her.

John scanned Ponyville; he’d watched every episode at least twice. If memory served, the library should be…

John’s eyes caught on a building built into a hollowed-out tree. His heart leapt. That was Golden Oaks library alright:Twilight’s favorite place in all of Ponyville.

Quickly, John dashed over to the hollowed-out tree and almost tore its door off its hinges.

“Hello?!” John looked around. Please be here please be here!

To John’s relief, Twilight Sparkle was present. True to character, her muzzle was buried in a thick book.

Thank God. John ran over to the little lavender unicorn. A part of him noted her scent; like lavender mixed with an animal musk.

“Twilight!” John shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. “Twilight?!”

Nothing. He might as well have been talking to a statue.

The little horse picked up a quill with her magic. “ Lets see…” She tapped the quill to her lips, then dunked it in the ink well and started writing. The words were completely unreadable- just lines of stars, horseshoes, and little swirls.

John seized Twilight by the shoulders and shook her like a rattle “Say Something!”

Twilight’s head snapped back and forward like a whip. Her ink bottle overturned, flooding her writing desk with a puddle of jet-black fluid.

John let go, his stomach churning. That had hurt. A lot.

Twilight held her head, her eyes comically rolling around in their sockets. For a second, she had a look of confusion on her face, as if she’d just seen something bizarre for a split second. She opened her mouth

[revert[

Once again, the universe flickered. The next thing John knew, Twilight was back to her original position. The ink bottle was right side up and full, and the writing desk was as clean as a blank slate. Twilight continued writing, mumbling something under her breath.

Maybe I need something a little more dramatic. John noticed a box of matches by the library’s fireplace. According to the smiling dragon on the box, they were “Phospho-brand Easy to use Matches.”

John looked towards the bookshelf, then back to the matchbox. Back to the bookshelf, back to the matchbox.

Sorry Twilight. John skimmed through the titles and grabbed a thick book off the library shelf: something called Of Ponies and Parasprites. “...But you know what they said about desperate times.” Steeling himself, John pulled out a match and struck it against the side of the box, summoning a tiny, leaf-shaped flame. He held it up to the book.The little flame lapped hungrily at the book. The yellowed paper began to curl and blacken. the library started to fill with the acrid smell of smoke.

John dumped the flaming book on Twilight’s desk and waited for a response. Books were to Twilight what water was to plants...or what heroin was to addicts. If this didn’t get her attention, nothing would.

Once again, for a split second, there was a hint of shock in Twilight’s eyes. Her mouth opened as if she was about to scream, then…

[revert]

The book returned to its shelf, completely unharmed. Twilight scribbled away at her parchment, completely oblivious to the alien monkey who’d attempted to burn one of her precious books.

Something inside John snapped for the second time that day. He started giggling maniacally, as if he were remembering some joke. His crazed eyes fell on a pony-sized splitting maul resting next to the fireplace , and a warped, twisted idea popped into his head.
“They won’t pay attention to me, huh?” John let out another psychotic giggle and picked up the maul- in his hands, the pony-sized tool was more like an ax. “Then I guess I’ll have to try harder!”

With that, John ran up to a nearby house and swung the maul at its child-sized front door. The first strike cut a ragged, splintery hole in the wood, while the second swing bashed the door down.
John squeezed himself into the house. “Heeeeere’s Johnny!” He laughed and went to work on the house. The maul’s heavy iron head smashed through the hardwood floorboards with ease. Shelves flew apart under John’s maul, spilling photographs and mementos to the floor. Using the blunt end of the maul, John smashed the windows, littering the floor with broken glass, like some sort of macabre post-modern art exhibit.

A cream-colored earth pony walked down the stairs. He put on a pair of thick glasses and gasped.

John pumped a fist. “You see this?!” He pointed to himself. “I’m the one who did this! Do you under-”

[revert]

In a heartbeat, all of John’s damage was instantly repaired. The pony went about his business.

In a rage, John left the house and took out his psychotic wrath on a hapless fruit stand. The heavy iron head smashed through the flimsy stand like cardboard, spilling fruit to the ground.
John walked up to the shocked merchant. “You see that! Can you see the person who-”

[revert]

The fruit stand instantly rebuilt itself. The merchant returned to his business as if nothing had ever happened.

An inhuman growl escaped John’s throat. Something like magma flowed through his veins, and he attacked the town in a frenzy, smashing everything in sight. Stands flew to pieces under the maul, only for the universe to repair them a few seconds later. Carts fell to pieces, only to be restored seconds after. The fountain in the middle of town was smashed to pieces again and again. Each time, it instantly repaired itself.

Eventually, John just gave up. He dropped the maul and fell to his knees, completely drained. The psychosis slowly leaked from his body, replaced by a soul-crushing despair.

It’s hopeless. He was cursed to be forever ignored in the land of his dreams. He’d be like a ghost to them, able to see but not be seen.

A familiar queasy feeling washed over John. There was a moment of dimness, as if the universe was experiencing a brownout, and the Woman appeared in front of him.

“You again.”

The mysterious female nodded her head. [Children laughing. A smiley face. A question mark.]

“No I’m not happy! I’m miserable!” He yelled. What was the point of living in paradise if he couldn’t interact with anyone?!

The Woman nodded. Two black tears trickled out of her eyes.

[A ticket home. A sense of homesickness]

“Yes, take me back, take me back!” He’d rather live as a homeless bum on Earth. At least there someone there would acknowledge his existence!

[A sticker on a used car. A cash register.]

“Yes, I’ll pay the price!” John pleaded. “Whatever you want; my soul, half of my remaining years, I don’t care. Just get me out of here!”

Another nod.

“You agree?”

[A stranger paying for a meal.]

“What do you mean I won’t be the one who pays? I don’t-”

“Oohh…”

John whipped his head around to see Fluttershy, walking next to Rarity. She was holding a hoof up to her adorable head.

“ are you feeling all right, darling ?”

“Ooh, I’m fine.” Fluttershy held a hoof up to her forehead. “I just feel a little-” The little pegasus fell to her knees. The color seemed to drain from her coat.

“Just...feeling...kinda-”

With that, Fluttershy collapsed.

“Fluttershy!” Rarity held a hoof to her friends’ neck “I can’t feel her pulse!”
The unicorn started hyperventilating. “I can’t feel her pulse I can’t feel her pulse! Somepony get a-
Rarity collapsed mid-sentence. Her snow-white coat turned a dull grey;

All around Ponyville, ponies began to collapse. Shopkeepers slumped over at their stands,while their customers collapsed in mid-haggle. A window washer went limp and fell from his perch like a bag of sticks. Pegasi rained from the sky as if they’d fallen asleep mid-flight.

Whatever was killing all the ponies soon did its work on the landscape. The grass beneath John’s feet turned brown and brittle. A flock of butterflies crumbled into dust. The library shed its leaves and its bark turned a bleached grey. Even the sky started losing its color.

As Equestria died around him, John fell to his knees, his mind completely shattered.

“Wuh-wuh...” He mumbled over and over. He knew what this was. He knew exactly what this was.

It was payment.Em dash here...

You need another paragraph space here. Also remove that period and the space after it.