Peter Griffin had never felt so low.

“Aw, c’mon guys,” Peter pled as stones and rusty bits of metal and Rainbow Dash-Cum-Jars were lobbed at him by the citizens of Quahog. “Is it really that bad?”

“Peter, I’m a literal rapist and I find what you’ve done to be deplorable,” Quagmire said with a shake of his head. “If Joe hadn’t died in that skiing accident I’m guessing he’d arrest you on the spot—that is, if he could restrain himself from shooting you.”

Peter sank to his knees, a cum-jar smashed across his face. “I really am the lowest of the low—a filthy Flutterfriend.”

When he looked up, Lois was standing beside him. She threw a length of rope down at his feet. “Take it, Petah. You know what to do.”

Peter slowly got to his feet, and immediately the ravenous horde of enraged Quahogians shouldered forth a massive crucifix, thrusting it onto Peter’s back.

“Ah, God! This thing weighs a ton!”

“We had to build one sturdy enough to support you!” Someone shouted from the mob.

Peter shook his head at the tasteless fat-shaming, bits of glass and flecks of cum showering about him in 4k super-slo-mo, the glint of the torches from the mob sending a bedazzling shine through the glass shards and semen alike. He trudged forward, beginning his long and slow drag of the cross towards the ceremonial Quahog Crucifixion Hill (est 2001).

Once atop the hill, Peter planted the cross and climbed it. It was a good nine-feet high, easily enough to accomplish what he was meant to do. Slowly, he took the length of rope Lois had thrust at him in utter disgust and tied it skillfully into a noose knot.

Peter’s belly shook like a big bowl of jelly with the force of his sobs. He balanced precariously atop the cross, staring into the loop of the noose. He could swear he could almost see them there—the bright shining, shimmering world of Equestria, filled with the lovable characters he knew so well and fapped to all so often.

“Come, Peter!” Fluttershy waved her hoof, beckoning him through the noose. “And not in the way you usually do! Equestria awaits, my sweet prince.”

“She would definitely say that,” Peter said, sniffling as a bittersweet smile adorned his battered and baby-batter splattered mug.

And with that, Peter slipped the noose around his neck, tied it to the top of the cross, and hopped off the side.

“So, the creature is in here?” Twilight asked, pulling aside the thicket before her. She, Starlight, Spike, and Princess Celestia were in the—well, it wasn’t exactly the deepest part of The Everfree, but it was still deeper than any of them had planned to be at this hour. It was the middle of the day and it wasn’t like they had anywhere else to be, but sometimes you just wanna like, not do anything with your Sunday afternoon? Starlight honestly was being kind of a selfish bitch to drag everyone out here.

“I unno,” Starlight said, shrugging her suspiciously shoulder-like horse shoulders.

A strange rustling came from the very underbrush that Twilight had been pulling aside. She leapt back, horn humming, ready to atomize any potential spook, specter, or sprite that might be a-lurkin’ in the leafy depths (truth be told, Twilight had been itching for some sort of outlet to vent her pent-up fury from being forced to listen to Celestia’s Kanye-rants, so even if it were but an unsuspecting field mouse she was likely going to vaporize whatever it was.)

But, nay! ‘Twas naught an unsuspecting field mouse at all! Completely naked, covered in scratches, bruises, bite-marks—various dirt and mud and twigs staining his body—was none other than the man himself: Peter Griffin.

“Oh, come on!” Twilight smacked her hoof across her face, causing her head to reverberate like a gong (much in a similar manner to the hollow moon that orbits Earth). “Starlight, I thought you said that this was a creature no one has ever seen before! This is just a regular old human! You’ve seen humans before, haven’t you?”

Starlight looked Peter Griffin up and down. “That’s a human?”

Twilight nodded. “Albeit a grotesquely overweight one, but yes. That’s a human.”

“Rude,” Peter said. “I’m right here. Fat shamin’ is on its way out as a form of humah too, by the way. Trust me, I would know.”

A growl emanated from the very underbrush that Peter had just crawled forth from. “Ah great, this jokah,” Peter grunted, rolling his eyes.

A Manticore sprung out from behind the bushes, growling and bearing its teeth with all the intent in the world to dine on Peter McNuggets. Peter would have none of that. This ain’t his first rodeo, after all—as I’m sure you’ll recall from Family Guy season 14 episode 2 “Papa has a rolling stone”, Peter worked as a break-up rodeo clown which has no relation to this except for an aesthetic similarity. Anyway, Peter did a sick spin and slammed the manticore with his big ol’ belly, breaking its neck and sending the corpse flying into a nearby tree where it exploded into a shower of bone, blood, and viscera that rained down on all parties present in a display of egregious gore that would put Kentaro Miura to shame, God rest his soul.

“So wait,” Peter said, pushing himself up from his trademark laying-on-the-ground-after-falling position, wiping manticore fur and an eyeball from his front. “You guys were used to seein’ humans before me?”

“Yes,” Twilight said. “Every time a human being on Earth commits suicide, they end up being transported here to the Everfree Forest.”

Peter’s eyes went wide with a mix of awe and terror. “Wow. Wait, every human? Not just the true believers such as myself?”

Twilight nodded solemnly. Or it could have been a nod of vaguely disinterested disgust. The two are very similar in expression.

“It’s precisely the reason I introduced the noble manticore to the Everfree Forest,” Princess Celestia chimed in. “Well, more like ‘a few hundred noble manticores’. It has completely devastated the Everfree’s native ecosystem. But! It keeps me from having to do damage control on every sadsack who shows up after they off themselves.”

Peter stroked his ball-chin thoughtfully. “Huh. So that explains the half-eaten Robin Williams corpse I teleported in on. Why does everyone who kills themselves end up here?”

Twilight and Starlight both turned in unison to look at Princess Celestia, who smiled sheepishly. “Oh, you know. You dabble with some Blood Magic, you bring horrible curses upon yourself, your bloodline, the land you hold dear... I’m sure you understand, we were all foolish teenagers who thought the Gods were our fleshlights at one time or another.”

There was a moment of awkward silence that hung heavy in the air until Peter let out a triumphant fart, the force and stench of which reduced a poor field mouse who had the misfortune of being behind him to little more than a steaming skeleton.

“I trust that you two will behave with respect when heading to pick up the package,” Jay-Z said as he led Kanye and Cudi to the teleportation bay. “My contact is very esteemed. They won’t take to any shenanigans, tomfoolery, or hijinks.”

“How about skylarking?” Cudi asked.

Jay-Z shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Capering?”

“No.”

“Harlequinading?”

Jay-Z opened his phone and googled “harlequinade definition”. “No.”

Kanye had been mysteriously silent the entire time.

“Oh, I got it! We gotta at least be allowed to get up to some monkey business.”

“No! No, none of that. No escapades, no hootinanies, no buddy-cop-parodies, no NOTHING. Get the coke and get out. What is so fucking hard to understand about that?”

“How about horseplay?” Cudi meekly suggested.

Jay-Z’s face went dark. “If you ever say something like that again, they’ll have to invent new words for what I will do to you.”

“Oh God!” Cudi and Jay-Z both whipped around to see Kanye displaying a horrified grimace not unlike as if he’d just been pounced upon by a ghost or one of the Kardashians he was less fond of.

“K-Kanye?”

“So, like, do you ponies swear?” Peter asked as Twilight lead him, Starlight, and Celestia out from the foliage that formed the barrier between the Everfree and Fluttershy’s Animal Sanctuary (trademark pending; if you think whatever country your from has some kafkaesque nightmare of governmental bureaucracy, don’t even get me started on Equestria’s). “‘cause it seems like every time there would be a perfect opportunity to in response to a situation or even just to use it as general punctuation, you guys don’t or use some fruity horse-specific substitute.”

“No. I mean, we can, but trust me. You don’t want to find out what happens when we do.”

“But you can reference things like fleshlights with no repercussions.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Of course. We walk around flashing one another every time we move our tails slightly in any direction. Do you really think we’d be as prudish as your world?”

“Again, not entirely certain where this attitude of hostility is coming from,” Peter said. “I mean, it’s not like I want to be here! Obviously, it’s all I dreamed of every since that time I walked in on Chris clopping, but—”

“Hey, Chris,” Peter said, opening his teenage son’s closed bedroom door without even so much as a courtesy knock. “Do you think there might be something wrong with me if I still can’t believe it’s not butter—AAAAAH!”

Chris, completely naked before his computer, covered the screen with one hand and his crotch with the other. “Dad!”

“Oh God!” Peter recoiled in horror, dropping the margarin. He turned and faced the camera, shrugging and smiling smugly. “Ah well! At least it wasn’t Chris walkin’ in on me!”

“What was that?” Twilight gasped as Starlight fell on her side and began to projectile vomit.

Princess Celestia smirked. “First cutaway, my dear former student?”

Twilight shuddered. Starlight had ceased vomiting, her face laying in a pool of her half-digested lunch.

“Oh my gawd, I am so sorry,” Peter said. His face was blushing brighter than a fresh summer strawberry in a Massachussettes spring field. “I completely forgot I could do that. Half of da time when I end up in a different IP my cutaways don’t even work! Good to know that now, though, I’ll be more careful.”

Starlight hacked up a chunk of phlegm-laden, stomach-acid stained carrot, tears streaming down her face. “U-Ugh... why...”

“Oh, grow up, Starlight,” Twilight deadpanned. “You’ve been to the zoo before, I know you’ve seen a monkey masturbating.”

Starlight groaned. “I-I... I saw what was on his screen...”

Peter chuckled an embarrassed lil chuckle. “Oh yeah. Yeah, my son’s into some weird shit.”

“I. I was on the screen. With my dad.”

Peter nodded solemnly (or perhaps it was a nod of vaguely disinterested disgust). “Yup. Kid’s a sick fuck. That’s on Lois though, Lord knows I didn’t raise ‘im.”

“You know, I should introduce you to my friend Applejack,” Twilight said. “You two both talk with accents that affect how the words you say are spelled in a narrative.”

Princess Celestia had been ignoring the conversation entirely, humming to herself and muttering under her breath. “I’m off the grid, grid, grid...”

Twilight scowled. “Princess!”

“Hm?” Celestia turned to Twilight, popping one of her Baets by Dray™ (trademark pending) wireless earbuds from one of her gigantic floppy horse ears. “Oh, my apologies. I was doing my 53rd listen of DONDA as to fully appreciate all of its subtle nuances and sonic textures.

“Heh,” Peter chuckled. “DONDA? More like YAWNDA!”

A terrible silence fell over the group. Celestia looked like she’d just watched Sombra betray her all over again, all those hundreds of years ago in the throne room of the Crystal Empire Palace. Her face was completely drained of color, which isn’t really saying much, but she looked aghast and mortified nonetheless.

“Get it? ‘cause it’s borin’?”

“You know, I suddenly like you a whole lot more,” Twilight said, grinning bashfully at Peter, her cheeks tinged with a blush that unmistakably betrayed arousal.

It felt as if time had stopped.

Kanye tumbled to the floor of the teleportation bay, clutching his chest. His face was pale, his breathing shallow. His eyes bulged, ears ringing as his vision grew dim. Cudi was beside his fallen friend in a matter of several hundred-million nanoseconds (an unforgivable delay Kanye still to this day has not forgiven him for), cradling him in his arms.

“Ye!” he cried, eyes brimming with tears. “H-Hova! Do something!”

Jay-Z rolled his eyes, pulled out his phone, and opened Tidal. “I Love Kanye” began to play softly—dare I say, perhaps even sensually—over his shitty iphone 5 speakers. Trust me, I’m just as shocked as you are that the dude with a floating illuminati fortress currently in orbit around Mars is still using an iphone 5 in whatever year you’re reading this in (probably 2021 or 2022). The inner machinations of his mind are an enigma.

Slowly, Kanye stabilized, his breathing steadying, and the color returning to his cheeks but not in, like, a racist way or anything.

“Ye!” Cudi cried again, eyes brimming with tears of joy.

“This happens every time someone out there disses his music,” Jay-Z said. “Fortunately, it’s easy enough to snap him out of it. He was nearly catatonic after 808s came out. He’s since built quite the tolerance—it must have been someone wielding massive amounts of memetic power to make him respond that way.”

Kanye's eyes narrowed as he snarled the name:

“Peter Griffin.”

“Wait, you had no idea who Peter was—“ Kanye slapped his hand over Cudi’s mouth.

“You ain’t got any sense of dramatic pacing, do you?”

Kid Cudi hung his head in shame.