Author's Notes:

Hello you all, hope all enjoy this new story I have posted. For now, this fic is mostly just a one shot, but if enough peoples want to see more off it. Then feel free to voice your...well voice IN TEXT FORM down in the comments.

Again hope you all like it.

“… And this is why my logic is superior to yours, because mine doesn’t make a lot of sense to begin with. Which means that you don’t understand it, which also means that my logic is smarter than yours. Period.” I typed into my laptop before sending it off to this now very annoyed and confused dude that I just randomly came across on Twitter.

How do I know that he is confused? Well, let’s just say that I have a natural knack for situations like this: shitposting faceless online people and general trolling. Call it a skill, something that I am sure the government would pay for… if they ever wanted me, that is.

First, I don’t trust them, and second, I don’t care about them either. Politics are practically all the same across the board, which basically revolves around a lot of shadowing about and not enough reasons to give the populace to just grab their torches and pitchforks to call upon a new revolution.

Shadowy, sneaky, little bastards. Which is bad, because it makes me want to know ALL of their secrets, if I could. But oh well, being housed inside my cousin’s house in front of a laptop is also pretty good.

That, and having an easy access to coffee and some of my favorite brands of cheese. As long as I can get access to those and the internet to continue my online reign of terror, I really don’t care who wears the tinfoil on the top.

I should technically be working just like every other normal person. The keyword being “normal” here. That, and I am generally too comfortable of a person to be bothered to be a respectable member of society. Also, nobody really has the tenacity to keep me around for too long, anyway. I am either too far away for them or too close for comfort… mentally, I mean, not physically.
You perverts.

Besides that little issue, I generally just use most of my time sucking on Netflix or Youtube while freeloading off of my cousins and taking care of a home’s needs, like watering the plants for example. Both artificial and natural, that is, as long as my arch-nemesis from next door isn’t being an ass again.

“Speaking of the internet. Need to nuke my search history before Dave asks me to borrow my machine again when he gets back. Better to be safe than sorry is my motto.” I thought to myself before finally signing out from Twitter.
Dave’s one of my younger cousins, but he isn’t really showing up today, so who cares?

Either way, the internet is just so spread-out and vast, you just get this sense of curiosity of typing in every search word that you can think of and eventually landing on some search results that are rather… questionable.
Family friendly not included.

“Here, click there, scroll here, aaaaand… done. All of the evidence has been burned and sent to digital hell. I now have… the perfect alibi.” I talked to myself with a grin, mimicking SpongeBob’s “Imagination” at the end, looking at the new collection of sites that I have power-opened all over my desktop to fill up the lost history that used to be there before. I arched a curious eyebrow while making an “ooh” face at some of these new sites.

Said sites spanned pretty much everything, from anime, to furry sites, random crap in between and that one very odd-looking page that displays bagpipes in all different colors and sizes, with added text and emotes above them that read more like sex slurs and hearts than anything else.

Why? Because why the fuck not? It’s the internet, after all.
“Oh, already ran out of coffee, it seems. Better make myself a new mix of Joe before I start terrorizing the inhabitants of Facebook. Gonna need to keep my mind straight if I want to avoid the obvious clickbaits and bots. I already nuked my history today and I really don’t feel like having to do it again in about 10 minutes or so. Efficiency is the word here.” I rambled to myself as I got up from my couch with my mug before heading in the general direction of the 3rd best room in this house.

You may ask “Why third?” Easy - it’s after the bathroom and the bedroom. Why? Because the bedroom is where I sleep and the bathroom is the place for doing my business, if I feel civilized enough to do it indoors, that is. Thanks to my neighbor, I have really gotten used to doing it like the hippies.

I should technically be angry that this asshole intentionally threw his used pig manure to our side of the hedge this morning. But then again, it landed right on top our compost pile, so really, all is well… for now.

Either way, once there, I simply allowed myself to be guided via autopilot. Years of having done the same thing over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over and - I am basically just wasting time just to get to the good part - over and, over again allowed my muscle memory to do its thing while I was mentally busy playing ping pong.

I grabbed the coffee tin, the spoon, and the kettle of hot water before setting my mug next to them and do what I have been doing for years constantly.

Talk about the insanity of literally doing the same thing over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and ov… fine, I’ll stop, but you all get the point.

You all, the invisible audience that doesn’t exist. Because imagination, and the need to kill some time while I am subconsciously making my coffee.

I was about to stir the mix when a sudden electric surge made itself known upon my spine, causing me to shiver slightly at the sensation and helping stir the mix even faster. I stopped afterwards, arching a wandering eyebrow before darting my eyes suspiciously from left to right.

There was a strange scent within the room. No, it wasn’t a fart, otherwise I would have automatically dismissed this electrifying feeling as nothing more but my bowel movements telling me that a visit to the throne room should be next on my to do list. No, the smell was something else, something closely related to the scent of rosebuds. A strange scent for sure, especially when I know for a fact that neither me nor my cousins make any use of scented candles within the house. Maybe the bathroom, but that would quickly turn into a lost cause given in the inhabitants of this home, especially me.
But alas, I eventually just shrugged. Not the first time when my overly active mind (not for the same reason as most people) would be playing tricks on me and causing me to spill a glass of water on some unlucky wedding guests next to the table.

With that thought out of my mind, I casually took my freshly made hot mug off the counter and made my way back towards the living room to continue my reign of terror. Or I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact that something was strangely wrong with my living room. The whole aesthetic and layout was so far off that it wasn’t even funny, and I usually find a reason to laugh and joke at pretty much anything.
Including kicking puppies for a sick joke.

I arched a curious eyebrow at the new “room” I was presented with. It looked a lot larger, wider, and less illuminated than the one I was so familiar with. I stepped in to take a closer look at my new surroundings, when all of a sudden something else made itself noticeable to my eyeballs. Despite the somewhat darker theme of this room - being poorly lit and what not - it surprisingly had a lot more color to its design than a normal freaking living room should have, which is fine because too much color in one’s eyes can cause an eye-crossing syndrome and a lot of blinking, which is exactly what has happened to me in the beginning as I didn’t notice the very obvious oddity in front of me at fist.

“Why does everything look like a cartoon right now?” I wondered to myself as I continued to gaze over at everything that can be gazed on without summoning up the risk of forcing someone to charge me an entry fee for the right of sightseeing.

A risk that inevitably became true when a sudden sense of realization quickly struck me, a realization which was realized all thanks to a big black racist of a cartoon horse standing on top of a podium in front of me. A distant podium which was separated by a sea of beings that immediately caused me to internally flip out. Distant memories of my childhood were awakened by this sight, memories which I had hoped would never ever resurfaced again in my life, until inevitably stumbling upon yet another YouTube video which would remind me of my childhood plight regardless.

Either way, it was WAY too early for me to be reminded once again, which was perfectly illustrated by the uncontrollable eye twitching I felt on my left eye.
I just got it cured.

“Ooh, my beloved subjects, it's been so long since I’ve seen your sun-loving faces.” I heard the big black racist horse announce with a voice that should normally be only used by Disney movie villains or well-paid porn stars. Ideas which I swiftly ignored though as I had more important things to hyperventilate about.

“The colors… the marking… the style… the exposed nudity…”

“What did you do with our Princess?” I heard someone else shout, sounding quite raspy and quite confusing in terms of gender. Something which was quickly correctified when the most gay pride looking pegasus I have ever seen tried to fly up towards the racist, only to be stopped by someone with the added voice to boot, saying something about slowing down or whatever.

Again, all of this was met with utmost irrelevance as my eyes began to rapidly scan this “NOT my living room” in a sense of increasing panic.

“The colors, by Sheogorath's beard, THE COLORS, and the similar theme markings to go with these colors.” I continued to think as the scene around me continued to be oblivious of my presence.
Not for long, though.

“Hahahahahah. Why, am I not Royal enough for you? Don’t you know who I am?” The racist porn star of a horse asked as the tension inside me was quickly reaching its critical mass.

“Ooh, ooh, more guessing games! Uhm, Pokey Smokes! How about Queen Meanie? No, wait…”
At this point the cat was finally out the bag as I couldn’t keep the increasing sense of horror inside me.
Just like with every other exposition ever made in any bad movie or fanfic ever made by overzealous Sonic fans, I pointed a finger at everything around me and shouted.

“CARE BEARS… HORSEYFIED CARE BEARS EVERYWHERE! THE WORST NIGHTMARES OF MY EXISTENCE HAVE COME TRUE! I HAVE FINALLY REACHED THE END OF MY CAFFEINE CAUSED TRIPS, AND NOW ALL I CAN SEE IS NOTHING BUT THE VERY BANE OF MY CHILDHOOD… MOTHERFUCKING CARE BEARS!!! OH, AUNT AGNAH HAS ALWAYS WARNED ME ABOUT DRINKING TOO MUCH COFFEE, AND NOW I AM SEEING IT!” I madly shouted, scaring pretty much anyone close to my proximity and finally garnering the attention of the big black, but surprisingly slender talking cartoon horse herself, of a racist.

Why racist? Because she is jet black, probably making fun of all the poor black people by being even blacker than them. Black people have souls too, you know! Just like gingers, which was one hell of a revelation when I first learned about that.

Or at least that’s what the local pastor told me.

The racist PG 18 on the other hand was finally giving me a hard glare after she spotted me. A glare which I matched, though for completely different reasons than her, I am sure.

“What the? What in the stars are you?” She demanded, snarling at me, strangely enough.
Can horses even snarl? I don’t know.

“Quick, seize her. Only she knows where the Princess is!” Somebody suddenly shouted.

This caused some of the attention to divert away from us as a group of three gold-armored horses with wings suddenly charged towards snake-eyes over there.
This got missus ebony’s attention as she quickly aimed her glare towards the offending laws of physics instead of me. Why? Because even I know that those wings are FAR too small to be ever supporting lift for anyone that size.

But then again, this is so far my worst ever fever-induced nightmare playing out in front of me, so why should I really care?

“Stand back, you fools!” She threatened before copying the eyes of Zeus and also going as far as stealing his lightning move as well, aiming it directly at Huey, Luey and Duey.

Who knows, they could actually be related to one another after all, with how similar they are. Wouldn’t surprise me if that was the epic plot twist of the day. Which, at least, will give me enough reassurance to momentarily forget this horrible peril that I found myself in.

I will either start running away screaming like a madman, or going full-on Hulk on these horseyfied care bears. A very hard choice to make, which, thankfully, was already decided for me thanks to racist horse’s sudden transformation into the immaterium, turning into a cloud of black mist before flying out of the building through the same entrance that I was apparently occupying, forcing me to duck out of her path as she flew right above me.

Where I don’t know, and where I don’t care, especially when all of the room’s attention was now aimed at me. All of them looking just as terrified as little James during his first dentist visit.

Another cousin of mine, so don’t bother.

“A… A MONSTER!!” Someone suddenly shouted.
“Don’t worry, I got this.” Skittles over there shouted before taking into the air once more and speeding her way right towards me with the need for speed.

My eyes immediately went wide in surprise. Seeing no way for me to dodge this incoming gay missile I did the only thing that my Nitro-fueled brain could muster: stepping a bit backwards into the double doors arch and slamming the left door next to me shut… with immediate results.

The impact that followed was both loud and very noticeable, mostly thanks to the spawned crack on the woodwork and the painful sounding moan afterwards.

“Rainbow Dash!” A couple of females shouted, which pretty much gave me all the information I needed for me to think that my stay was no longer tolerable.

Sadly, I was actually starting to get over the fact that I was no longer in my home but in fact existing inside my worst childhood trauma in horse form. Can’t be that bad. Especially when everything looks so cartoony.

“Time to hit the road, I guess.” I told myself before turning around on the spot and making a mad dash for… somewhere, while STILL managing to keep my mug full of coffee perfectly leveled and calm at full sprint. How? Well, thanks to a couple of years of training, that’s how.

Why just a few years instead of more? Well, more years obviously means more time, which also means a lot more of it wasted throughout. Time that nobody has, even the rich people. Besides that, it also kinda doesn’t help that this place here is just as unfamiliar to me as my home’s basement. Dark, confusing, and very much the same looking wherever you look.

All thatch-roofed middle age looking houses everywhere the eye can see. Still very colorful, though, only a little bit more “girly” if the overuse of certain symbols such as hearts is anything to go by.

“The thing is running over there! Get it, it could possibly be linked with Nightmare Moon herself!” I heard someone shout from behind as I continued my coffee-stable sprint.

No need to waste a good cup of coffee, after all. And judging by this unpredictable predicament I somehow managed to find myself in, I would certainly need every single drop of Joe that I can get.

I was about to take a sip of it mid-run when suddenly, my spider senses began to tingle. Looking back behind me I could see a rainbow colored bullet speeding towards me, looking quite determined and very pissed at the same time. I wonder why?

I knew that outrunning this flying mishmash of colors was impossible for such an untrained couch potato such as myself, so I did the only sensible thing a man like me can do: stop, gently place my mug down on the ground (because no need to waste a good coffee, after all) and simply accept my faith with open arms.

Quite literally in fact, same as I openly accepted the ludicracy of existence itself.

I had a simple, neutral look of acceptance. “Time to join the gay parade, I guess. Can’t be as bad as being a full-blown hippie. But then again, I shall find out soon enough anyway.” I thought to myself before I finally got the chance to taste what a rainbow actually tastes like.

Spoiler alert, it tastes like nothing. Why? Well, I wasn’t conscious enough to really find out.

Hope my coffee at least survived the ordeal, otherwise I would still go Hulk on these talking cartoon equines for spilling the only mug of coffee I had at my disposal. For how long, who knows. Depends if these horses even know what coffee is.

For their sake, they’d better.