The television channel changes and a group of teen mares stand on a stage, heads bowed. Reverent and respectful. You're sprawled out in a couch in a fashion that couldn't possibly be comfortable, but you're so bored and restless that you've just found yourself in this position. You would have adjusted to a more comfortable position a while ago, but you've found yourself proud of your newly acquired contortion.

"This is the way the world ends," says a stallion on screen. "This is the way the world ends. Not with-"

"DO SOMETHING ORIGINAL YOU SHITS!" you yell at the teens on television.

You shut the device off and stare at the ceiling. My god. How have you run out of things you can do in Equestria? This is a vast, never-ending land of magical wonderment, and you're lazing about on the couch. I mean, how boring is that? Imagine if you wrote an autobiography and people actually -read- it? Why the hell would anyone even keep going after this?

Three gentle knocks on the door snap your head to attention.

At least there's something in this world that gives your life meaning. You rise to your feet and move to the door. Tossing the door open, you feast your eyes on that reliable yellow pegasus, who never fails to add some spice to your day.

Actually, when you put it that way, it seems like she isn't so bad. Let's try that over.

That accursed butterscotch rape machine lingers on the doorsill, biting her lower lip. She peers at you through half-lidded eyes and a smile that hints for you to stay awhile. Her hoof traces the ground, the sensual curves of her body failing to hide her intentions.

Actually, let's go back to the other description. That still wasn't quite what you were going for.

"G-good Morning, Anon," Fluttershy says, her voice filled with hesitation.

"Whassup, Fluttershy? How are you today?"

"I'm... okay. Uhm. I wanted to know if you would like to have a delicious mini-muffin," she says, producing an entire tray of muffins behind her back, because that's how cartoons work for some reason.

You look down at the muffins, scrutinizing them. They look like normal muffins. But smaller. Miniature muffins. Like, a muffin that is smaller.

"Hrm. Now if I wouldn't know better, Fluttershy. I would say that you have an external agenda here," you say. "For some reason, I get the undenible suspicion that I cannot trust you."

"Why, Anon? Why ever would you not trust me?" Fluttershy says.

"I am unsure," you say. "But, I suppose I will simply have to consume one of these muffins and see what resulting chain of events occurs from doing so."

"Then you should do that."

"Then I shall."

You take one of the muffins in your hand, when Fluttershy sighs and shakes her head.

"Okay, Stop. Stop. Stop," Fluttershy says, stepping inside the house. "Listen, I don't think this one is working."

You stare down at Fluttershy as she moves into your home. Except, as you turn around, you find its not your home any more. Instead, there's a whole cast and set of other Fluttershys. Some manning lights. Some manning cameras. The Fluttershy that was just beside you walks towards a Fluttershy sitting in a folding chair, wearing a priest collar and black button up shirt.

"Fine, Fine. Cut," says the priestly Fluttershy. "What? What's wrong?"

"Do you honestly think people are going to buy this one?" The Fluttershy says harshly. "I mean, I've been doing this for awhile, and I have to admit, I don't think this is working the way you want it to."

"What are you talking about?" says the director-priest-horse that isn't fooling a single goddamn reader of this story.

"Well, read your own script!" says Fluttershy.

"What the fuck is going on right now!" you scream to the dozens of Fluttershys around you.

"I know what happens," says the priest. "Anon eats the mini-muffin. Then he shrinks down to the size of one of the muffins. Then you eat him, and ask aloud if Vore is his fetish. Then you realize he's in your stomach, and it cuts to Anon being destroyed by your digestive acids."

"See, there's the problem," says Fluttershy. "That isn't really funny. That's just distressing. And to be honest? There's going to be some weird person out there that ACTUALLY gets off to this episode."

"Don't be absurd, Fluttershy. Nobody actually gets off to this series, and if they have before, I sure wish they would say so."

A silence hangs in the air. You sit on the ground of your fake home, feeling the fake wood floors. You begin to panic. Where is your house? Where do you live?

"I have better things to do with my time than to have my character butchered in... in this disgusting way! I'm supposed to be quiet! And shy!"

"Yeah, but your character also never learns her lessons," he says. "What's your point?"

"If you're going to keep doing this to me... then... then... I quit!" she says. "I'll go to a better story where I can be snuggled and called gentle, nice things!"

"Fine! You're fired!" the priest says. "Fluttershy #7. You're in."

A Fluttershy sitting on a bench, sipping a cup of coffee, happily leaps to her hooves.

"O-oh! I-it's finally my chance!" she says, trotting beside you and picking up the muffins.

"Please, help me," you whisper to the new Fluttershy.

"It's okay. It'll all be over soon," she says.

"That doesn't make me feel better," you whisper.

"ALRIGHT! QUIET! ACTION!" the priest says.

Suddenly, in a bright flash of light, the world around you shifts back to your home.

"Why, Anon? Why ever would you not trust me?" Fluttershy says.

Your head turns to Fluttershy, holding a tray of muffins.

"I DON'T FUCKING WANT TO BE EATEN. NO. GET OUT. NO. FUCK YOU," you scream, pushing her out the door.

You slam the door behind her and lock it. Your breath comes in quick, shallow bursts. Sweat drips down your forehead.

"WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?" you shout at your empty home.