I'm sorry for not continuing this account more, or as quickly as I probably should. Much of these memories are awful, and are emotionally taxing to put into words. I'm sure you understand, Celestia, but just being there, witnessing so much death and heartache, being tormented by killer clowns and interdimensional vampires... it just feels so unreal. If it hadn't been for the supplementary materials I brought with me from that brutal planet, that ugly world, I would seriously doubt I had been there. I would have thought I was dreaming.

To be honest, I really wish I was.

But this story has a conclusion, and I need to get to it. My editors, Lyra and Spike, have both been nagging at me to stop detailing everything in such a frustrating scope as I have been; and both are eager to see this report on interdimensional travel and alternate dimensions and otherworldly creatures finished.

However, I think I've reached a point in this account in which much became a blur. As I've outlined, my legs were broken, and the alternate version of my brother and I were sharing a nihilistic laughing fit. I had just been molested by something that honestly should not possibly exist, and he had just killed his best friend. You'll have to forgive me for not remembering exactly what happened a few hours afterward.

I kind of... snapped, I guess. Not a tearful breakdown, as it was before, but a truly awful, crushing, piercing defeat. The pressure of the situation had finally closed itself around me, like a casket being shut. For the moment, my brother and I were dead and buried. Forgotten.

Which brings me to the next important detail of this account: the Doctor.

I am going to have him write this chapter, since his details are just as important to the overall quality of this document. Really, this report isn't complete without this input. So, without any further introduction, here is the Doctor's part of this account:

Dear me, it seems Twilight has given me the unexpected privilege of writing to a world leader!

First, let me start off by saying how much of an honor it is to write something a goddess will personally read. Even though the events herein are macabre, horrible, and disturbing, it still brings me nothing less than joy, joy, JOY that I am writing to an honest-to-God goddess. (That sounded weird.) It is very rare that I get to communicate with anyone as old (or possibly even older) than me. We should totally get together for some tea, or maybe some jelly babies. Or birthday cake, how does birthday cake fetch you?

Where was I? Oh, right.

I was with myself (Or would it be "BY" myself? I mean, he counted as an alternate me, or maybe even a future or past me. It's so hard to tell. Real wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff), and we were just dragging ourselves off of the Chris-TARDIS that Windy threw us at.

So anyway, we got up off him, and he started to complain. He mewled. He hee'd and haw'd. He bitched, as the kids say. Called us all trolls. You know the drill. Then he finally says that the Windigus Prime is... some kind of "screaming star" troll, or something. I really wish I knew where he was coming from, as it sounded like a magical little place.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" asked Alterna-Me.

He thought it over a bit. "I'm gonna--" then he made a motion like he was strangling something invisible--"NNNNGGGGGGGGG!!!!!" Alterna-Me and I backed away from him. "STRANGLE dat Crystal!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, that worked out SO well for you the first time." Then I raised an eyebrow. "Wait, Crystal? Why did you call it Crystal?"

"Cuz she called me her fadder. So, she's mah daughter. An I named her Crystal. Unless she's a he. She DID have a guy voice. If she's a he, then he's Reginald."

A slow, unsure silence wafted between us before I clicked my tongue nonchalantly. "I'm sure the whole 'father' angle was purely metaphorical..."

"But maybe he's just a Tomgirl, which is totally esseptable" (I'm assuming he meant "acceptable".) "I really think he'd look good wearing a mini."

Alterna-Me and I shared a disturbed glance.

"But Ah'm still gonna hafta punish him fer disrespectin' CWCville. An fer throwin' you guys at me."

Never before had I felt this mentally exhausted. This discussion was over. However, it had become rather apparent that the Windigus Prime, now that it had been given a physical form (No thanks to my unforgivable stupidity), was going to call forth the Smooze and annihilate all existence. It was time, I feared, to form a truce.

I put out my hoof to the Mayor. Alterna-Me looked at me in shock and disgust. "What do I think I'm doing?!"

"Chris," I told him, "after all this is over, you are likely going to have to face the consequences of everything you've done. You'll probably face every pony you've ever wronged, which would be all of them; and they'll all try to kill you, and they'll probably hang your head over a fireplace or something. In fact, I'm fighting the urge to just beat you to death myself. I'm sure I have a wrench or something in my pockets--"

"Get to the point, me," Alterna-Me growled.

"Point? Oh right. We're all gonna die, so we should work together."

Chris gave me with this look. I'm not sure what word I could possibly use to describe it, so I'll just make one up. He looked at me "doubloobedly". He looked at me as if he were twice the boob he is. It's my word, so no stealing.

He cleared his throat, apparently having come to a decision. "Yer diatribe has been understood fully, and yer thoughts have been inputted and essepted fer better improvements. Thank you fer yer time and efforts."

Alterna-Me and I looked at each other, understandably confused. "I don't think you understand," I said. "We're asking you to team up with us. You know, power in numbers."

"Ah already have da numbers I need."

Just like that, the Chris-bots all came into the room like children eager to greet their father when he comes home from work. "Oh," I said, "I kinda forgot about those guys. Where did they come from anyway?"

They all spoke over each other at once, attempting an explanation, but all I could make out was "WAAAH WAAAH WAAAH." Whole lots of shouting and gurgling and stuttering and mumbling. It all became this great big blob of noise before Alterna-Me finally threw his hooves in the air, his patience clearly at its end.

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Alterna-Me cried, silencing the Chan-bots immediately. "It was ME, OK? I brought them here!"

I looked at him, confused. "...I'm sorry? Come again?"

"When YOU" (He pointed angrily to Chris) "started traveling through time, you ended up destroying entire evolutionary chains! I had to go back in time to prevent you from sitting on that stupid biped-fish-thingy!"

"Ah thought it was a chair," Chris defended.

"And then after that, you just HAD to return to time traveling, even though I warned you NOT to! I even tried to destroy your TARDIS and take you back home! And what happened?! What happened?!"

Chris looked thoughtful for a moment. "Iss been awhile..."

"You went back to try defeating Discord, only for him to turn you into a bunny that had a toaster for a head! I had to save you from him! Do you KNOW how hard it was to communicate with you?! I had to butter the toast first so you could write words on it when it popped up! And your grammar is awful."

"If it wudn't fer Green County High, I wouldna made dat F in English."

"No excuses! And you just couldn't stay out of trouble! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. You just HAD to keep trying to build your own civilization! How many times did I try to destroy your TARDIS?!"

"Ah dun remember."

"Neither do I! I lost count! It seemed like every time I'd destroy your TARDIS, somepony rebuilt it! And I never figured out who! It was probably the influence of that Windy-Whatever or something, or maybe even some prank by the Master! And then you had this great idea to go meet your previous selves, which should have caused your mind to melt!"

My eyes went wide. "Really? Your mind doesn't melt when you receive memories you don't remember having?"

Alterna-Me shot me this look that told me to shut up without him having to tell me to shut up. So I shut up.

"It's more like, he went back in time and did something differently each time, which impacted the form he would take when he would inevitably be brought into this dimension from his original dimension via the Blue Magic Pocket. Thusly, by going back and forth..." He began counting the clones, doing the math in his head. "... Six hundred and twenty-four times, in time, he has created numerous versions of himself. So it's not like he actually met his past self. Just a slightly altered version of his past self."

I looked out at the Chris-bot army, all of whom wore confused expressions. "Everypony got all that?" I asked. before they answered, I compounded, "GOOD." Alterna-Me continued in the spilling of his metaphorical heart.

"But either way, I brought them all here. Well, technically, maybe not--all I really did was try to drop off his little time clone army in the space-time continuum itself because I became tired of his stupid exploits." Alterna-Me stopped in his tirade, and began to rub his temples. "Where did I go wrong with you, Chris? All I did was try to keep you out of trouble. I thought it might be nice having a fellow Time Lord, but..." He buried his face in his hooves. "I just don't know what went wrong!" he whimpered.

Confidently, Chris struck a heroic pose--well, as heroic as a horrible monstrosity could possibly look, anyway. "Don' worry, Doc. I got dis all unner control."  

"No, you don't," said Alterna-Me. "No, you don't. Listen to me--"

"Yes I do!" interrupted Chris. "I got dis! I'M WORKIN ON IT!" He turned to look at his army of time clones. "Errypony, at my command!" he said, "As you may well know, dat evil ghost what was in here a few moments ago... The Doctor is ANGRY at me! It's mah fault, I admit it. I admit it; I want everything ABOUT DAT REGINALD! OUT! Of MY! CITY!" He began to gesture wildly with his spidery limbs. "I'll send out you guys, I'll send out detectives, I'll send out everything in my power!"

Alterna-Me began to interrupt, now visibly angry. "Listen to me. LISTEN! To me."

Chris turned around to meet his gaze reluctantly. Or doubloobedly. Whichever. "Yes?"

"I don't care what you do. Because it isn't going to matter in the long run. You're going to screw up, and make everything worse, like you always do."

"I'm workin' on it!"

"Don't 'work on it!'" I told him. "You're the one that helped give the Windigus Prime get the foothold it needed in the first place. You should feel lucky we're even considering asking you to help us after everything you've done."

"Wait," asked Alterna-Me, "Why are we asking him to help us if he's just going to screw up?"

I thought this over a second. "I just... kinda thought it wouldn't hurt for him to take some responsibility for all this."

"Do you realize something?" asked Alterna-Me, his voice stern. "Do. You. Realize? Lemme tell you. When that Smooze sees that Windigus Prime that you put in that damn corpse, he'll destroy this reality, and we would have to move out of it?"

I frowned. "I see," I mumbled, looking away. I saw Chris look at us, not doubloobedly as before, but as if this whole conversation had some air of familiarity about it.

He suddenly frowned. "Don't you blame me fer this!" he shouted. "You an yer damn scheme to bring me down! You even formed a team-a trolls to come after me, through no fault'a my own!" And he went on like this, lecturing us on how we're all evil trolls.

"Annow, iss time fer me tah take care-a you trolls, once an fer all!" With that, he sicced his army of time clones on us again. I suppose I could have tried another singing contest, but I wasn't sure if it would work a second time.

My eyes fell on something I hadn't seen for some time. My smile came back and my eyes must have been as big as dinner plates, except it would kind of hurt if my eyes were used to serve food because then I wouldn't be able to see.

"My screwdriver!" I dove for it, picked it up, and kissed it all over like it was an old girlfriend of mine.

"Da screwdriver?" Chris looked at it as I picked it up. "Y'mean dat thing? I tried using dat on Discord but the dang thing doesn't work. It's totally useless."

I raised an eyebrow. "It's not useless!" I suppose I could have asked him about why the history texts in the library claimed he'd defeated Discord with it, but the fact is, he rewrote history to his liking anyway. So obviously, it wasn't as if he was being TRUE and HONEST.

"Yuh it is," he said. "It's not like it's really a weapon."

"That's why I like it," I said, "It doesn't kill people. But I'll tell you what it DOES do." I held it up like that one painting I saw that had a knight striking the same pose holding up a sword. "It's really good at opening doors." I pointed it at him. "And it's even better at closing them."

Just like that, the TARDIS doors shut on Chris' face. He yelped in surprise, commanding his clone army to attack us, while he struggled to get the TARDIS doors open. I started "sonicing" them, throwing them around with sonic waves, clearing a path for us. "Sonic boom!" I shouted gleefully as Alterna-Me and I ran from the chamber. "Sonic Boom!"

We exited the chamber, only to find ourselves inside...

Hm. Well.

Remember when I said the events were going to be dreadful and scary? Well, here it is!

We walked out of the Diabolus ex-Machina chamber, only to have walked into the abandoned Carousel Boutique Twilight and I appeared in. Everything was much darker than it really should have been at that hour (half-past midnight, if I recall correctly), and it was all a dark blue. There was an unearthly chill in the air, and the faint smell of something being burned.

Alterna-Me looked about. "OK," he asked. "What... just... happened?"

I checked my screwdriver. Among its other nice features is that when I look at it, I can pretend I know what I'm doing. But I forgot I was with myself, who saw right through my ruse. "You don't know either," he said. "Knock it off."

Suddenly, we both heard the sound of slow, almost damning applause. We looked up to see the Windigus Prime sitting on a pile of forgotten mannequins as if they formed a throne. I'll never get over the feeling of watching a reanimated corpse being moved around by a ghost. It's like watching an invisible child play with his toys, only the toys are out to kill you and the child has absolutely no morals.

"I am so glad you could make it here, Doctor," it said, leaning forward in its throne.

"Well, I'm assuming you brought us here," I said back.

"I meant this dimension," it replied. "I wanted to thank you both for your contributions to my cause. Whether or not you intended it, your bumbling has paved the way for me to accomplish my holy mission."

"Where is Miss Sparkle?" barked Alterna-Me.

It gave an insidious snicker in reply. "By now, I imagine she is wishing she were dead. But onto other matters..."

It waved its hoof, and suddenly, we were outside, in the heart of CWCville, as Twilight and I were before. Before Alterna-Me or I could really do much, the Windigus Prime rose into the air. Suddenly, the ground began to freeze. Buildings began to twist and bend, making their dimensions even more surreal. Carriages began to float up. The earth began to split.

"Wh-What do you think you're doing?!" demanded Alterna-Me.

"Merely seasoning the Smooze's meal," came the answer. "The entire world is now my plaything. Everything within answers to my beck and call. I tell it to prepare itself for uncreation, and it responds accordingly."

How was I going to fight something that had this much power? It shared Discord's power of warping reality. It was able to destroy and twist anything merely by thinking about it.

But.

But it was currently inside Cadance's body. Cadance's magic was greatly reduced over the period of time she was attached to the Diabolus ex-Machina. It even said itself that it could have been at peak power if it had possessed Twilight instead...

My eyes fell once again to my screwdriver. Ever since I came to this planet and discovered it ran on magic, I worked hard on modifying the screwdriver so it could be used not just against physical matter, but magical matter as well. Unfortunately, I only ever remembered to mod on of the screwdrivers I had, and I couldn't tell if this was that one or not. If it could interfere with magic...

It was worth a shot. If not, well, can't say I didn't try.

I looked up at the Windigus. "You must really think you're all that and a bag of chips, don't you, Windy?"

The Windigus Prime let loose a wicked laugh. I could describe it, but the fact is, it was honestly the most terrifying sound anypony could ever not want to hear, ever. "You may live for thousands of years, but you are still a fool. Look around you! Nothing escapes the extent of my power! Now that I have shown you what I am capable of, I will proceed to tear you apart, molecule by molecule!"

It raised a hoof, and just as it did so, I lifted my screwdriver and hoped against hope that I wasn't wrong.

The screwdriver buzzed in its screwdrivey way as the Windigus Prime lurched. Its eyes bulged in surprise and it let out a moan. "What?!"

I waved my screwdriver, the buzzing even more intense. The Windigus Prime fell down to the ground with a splat. The buildings began to regain their original shape. The carriages were set down gently. The dark blue, icy chill, and burnt smell all went away and time began to move normally.

"How are you doing this?! The fat pony couldn't even use that against Discord!"

I grinned. "That's because Chris is Chris, and I'm the Doctor. Oh, and there's more than just one screwdriver. Obviously, mine's better."

The Windigus Prime howled in anger. It tried to stand up, and had a very hard time doing so. It seemed it used magic even to move. Alterna-Me walked over to the Windigus Prime, a confident smirk on his face.

"All-powerful, eh? I think you're wrong. You were only so powerful because of all the magic you borrowed from Miss Sparkle, and made yourself seem really scary only because she couldn't fight back." He stood in front of the Windigus. Suddenly, he punched it, knocking it back down. "You're stuck in a dead body that can't even move on its own without the use of your magic. You're at a complete disadvantage, so I'm giving you only one chance to surrender!"

For the moment, it seemed we had won. But then, the Windigus Prime laughed. "What's so funny?" asked Alterna-Me.

"The fact you forgot to keep that screwdriver going."

Suddenly, we were blown backward, the screwdriver falling out of my mouth. (It's an interesting experience, by the way, to hold objects in your teeth.) The Windigus Prime floated back up, uneasily. It seemed the sonic screwdriver had at least winded the Windigus.

"This has proven one thing: I am wasting time. This body truly is inadequate for my mission..." It then shook a bit, as if it were about to fall again. "I won't last much longer at this rate. I must hurry!"

"Not so fast!" I said as I reached for the screwdriver. Suddenly, six hundred and twenty-four beings appeared out of nowhere. They all looked vaguely like Chris.

"Drones, do me a favor and kill these two, won't you?" And with that, the Windigus Prime disappeared in a "swoosh" of black fire.

The Chriseseseses' eyes all glowed a sickly green, as if they were robots complying with orders. Were they always under the Windigus Prime's control, or was it just waiting for an opportunity? Either way, this teleported army ran at us like an onslaught of what I keep hearing is called "Tard Rage": lots of screaming and violence.

I tried to reach the screwdriver only for one of the Chris clones to kick it away and punch me in the face. Fortunately, this particular clone hit like a little filly with pillows glued to her hooves. However, there was a whole army here, and the numbers were enough to put Alterna-Me and I to bruises and bumps and lost lunches.

We tried to escape, but there were just too many. Just as all hope seemed lost, like a last-minute plot twist in a B-grade action movie, there came a shot from the sky above. It landed among the Chris clones, sending a few of them flying into the air.

Its body was long and cucumber-like, even painted green. The limbs had built-in machine guns and beam guns, with rocket launchers at its sides. The beam it shot was of the "sonic" persuasion, not meant to destroy , but to repel. The bullets it shot, I noticed, were all rubber bullets: while they stung like swarms of bees, the most danger the Chrises would recieve is getting their eyes put out. The rocket launcher seemed to be more for "dangerous" enemies, or as a last resort, as the cucumber savior did not use it at all.

Alterna-Me and I ducked behind a carriage as this cucumber savior of ours gave the Chrises what-for. I slowly looked up over the hood to get a glimpse of the action, and suddenly, getting swept up in the moment, I felt like a young boy watching his favorite action cartoon on the telly. I started yelling directions like "One in the mush for me while you're at it" and "Watch out for the guy behind you", until Alterna-Me pulled me down and told me to keep quiet.

With a loud thud, a Chris clone had landed on top of the carriage's hood. "Da guy in da pickle suit got me again," he mumbled as he drifted off into unconsciousness. (Talk about crashing into slumber.)

We waited there for a few moments after the sounds of violence had evaporated. I looked up as the sound of heavy machinery in movement came closer to us. "Doctor, are you OK?" said a mechanized voice.

I came out from behind the carriage and looked at it again, this warrior of cool green and plated steel. It stopped when it saw me and its "face" opened up.

"Spike!" I cried happily as I ran to him. "Spike, you're OK!" I gave his suit a hug. It is a strange thing to do now that I think of it, hugging a robot suit.

Spike laughed. "Of course I'm OK! It takes more than a panic attack to take me down. By the way, where's Twilight?"

Alterna-Me had gotten out from behind the carriage at this point and stepped over the unconscious Chris clones. "The Windigus took her someplace, but we're not sure where. By the way, how did you know where to find us?"

Spike raised an eyebrow. "I saw a whole group of ponies just appear in the sky and descend like a flock of seagulls on a dropped ice cream cone. Anypony would think something was up."

Alterna-Me pursed his lips as if he hadn't thought of it that way.

I picked up my screwdriver, thankful that it hadn't been destroyed in the battle. I checked it over, making sure it was all in one piece. One of the finer features of the screwdriver is that it can also detect things. If I wanted to find Twilight (And I did), all I would have to do is set the screwdriver to locate her unique magic signature.

However, I had forgotten her magic had been nearly sucked dry, so the readings were very faint. I began to run in the direction the screwdriver indicated, only for Spike to stop me. He looked at me, then at the screwdriver. "What are you doing?" he asked.

I explained to him what the screwdriver was and what I was doing. He lifted both Alterna-Me and I into his robo-arms and lifted off, toward the direction we all hoped Twilight was.

Next Chapter: 25. Stand Together, Fall As One Estimated time remaining: 53 Minutes