The Wrong Equestria

By Silvertie

I Pearsonally Didn’t See This Coming

Two mares walked through the forest, and although nopony else was around to hear them, one of them certainly made sounds.

“Ooh. Ouch. Oogh.” Applejack’s face was going through various shapes as she walked, each step triggering a face-change, each iteration a new foray into the field of “involuntary flinching and trying not to show it”.

“Are you alright there, Applejack?” Twilight asked.

“Yes,” Applejack lied, before grunting in pain. “No. Ah think Ah- ow- pulled a muscle or six in that tussle with Pearjack.”

“You’re lucky that’s all you got,” Twilight said. “Nashi and I were very sure we’d be scraping you off the ground, to be honest; Pearjack’s twice your size and as strong as Big Mac at least.”

“Don’t Ah know it,” Applejack said. “Ah sorta made my peace with her, but that’s somewhat down to her beatin’ me to a paste if she actually kept goin’. Ah got lucky.”

Twilight shrugged, and looked around. “At least this forest hasn’t changed. Still as dark and spooky as ever.”

“Huh, yeah,” Applejack smiled, looking around. “Remember that time when we came through here, on our way to Nightmare Moon? Ah still cain’t believe that we got spooked so bad by all those trees.”

“It seems silly now that we think about it,” Twilight agreed. “Still. I can sort of see why we did. That one actually does look like a monster if you squint your eyes.”

Applejack looked at the indicated tree, and smiled. “Yeah, it does, Ah reckon. Hey, what about that’n? Looks like Spike did, when he was all grown up on greed!”

“Oogh,” Twilight groaned. “Don’t remind me of that day. That was... not one of our better days.”

“Fair ‘nough,” Applejack nodded, before focusing on a tree in the shadows, just within seeing. “Hey, that’n looks like Pinkie Pie. You know, if Pinkie were standin’ behind it and lettin’ her mane and tail poke out.”

Twilight looked at the indicated tree. “I... don’t really see it.”

“Applejack’s got a good set of eyes!” a cheerful voice congratulated from behind the tree. “Twilight... less so. You need to get out more, perhaps get a set of speccys!”

“Wha?” Twilight stepped away from the tree, which was now moving. “What the-”

“Pinkie?” Applejack asked, stopping and staring at the tree. “Is that you?”

“No,” the tree said, “It’s... a pony-eating manticore! Rawr!”

A lump fell out from behind the tree, giggling and snorting, and Twilight relaxed.

“Pinkie, what are you doing here?”

“Me?” a pink earth pony got up, and trotted out of the dark, to reveal a Pinkie Pie that was... well, typical Pinkie Pie. Poofy mane. Pinkness. Perpetual smile. Nothing seemed different... for once. “I was just taking a shortcut!”

“A shortcut?” Applejack asked skeptically, looking around. “Through the Everfree Forest?”

“Good a place as any to have one!” Pinkie winked. “Nopony ever looks for transdimensional tunnels in the forest! Have you tried hiding one anywhere else, like under your bed? I tell you, more ponies than you’d expect end up finding it! And boy, is it awkward! It’s a miracle I don’t have a reputation for being some sort of obscene town tandem-bicycle!”

“Wait,” Twilight held up a hoof. “You’re not the Pinkie Pie from this world, either?”

“Oh no,” Pinkie Pie shook her head. “Of course I am. I just happen to be the Pinkie Pie from our world as well! And the one six degrees slantways from purple! And I’ve got custody over Tango Golf Eleven every other Sunday!”

“That doesn’t...” Applejack shook her head. “So y’all are sayin’ you’ve been here before?”

“Yup!” Pinkie nodded. “I’m what you’d call a “dimensional constant”, or whatever it is. Basically, the universes love me so much, I show up in all of them! And in all of them, I behave exactly the same!”

“So...” Twilight struggled to wrap her mind around it.

“So,” Pinkie said, “That means I’ve got places to be! Just dropped in to say hi! And don’t forget, party at Rarity’s this weekend, remember?”

“Uh, right,” Applejack nodded, and Pinkie grinned.

“Awesome! See you two back in Ponyville when you finally get the crystals off Celestia! And don’t forget! Giggle at the ghostly!” Pinkie threw herself into a hard and fast cartwheel, transitioning into her usual bouncing form of locomotion with ease; she passed behind a tree, and with a lemony tang in the air and an inaudible twang in the air, didn’t come out the other side.

“What the buck,” Twilight said, flatly.

“Like Ah always say,” Applejack said, staring at the tree. “It’s Pinkie Pie. Don’t need to reason much more than that.”

~~~~~~~

The journey continued. While the trees continued to uncannily resemble terrifying and murderous creatures, there were no more trees shaped like party ponies, and even though Twilight looked at and around suspicious trees, they didn’t find so much as a loose dimensional thread, let alone a full-blown tunnel.

In fact, unlike the last time they’d travelled straight to the heart of the forest like this, the trip was uneventful; no manticores pounced, no trees loomed looking like monsters, and no river serpents were bawling their eyes out in the river over a ruined moustache.

And so, the pair came to a familiar dark stone castle. It loomed over them like a tall, dark thing, with plenty of foreboding lurking in the shadowed spires. Unlike the last time they’d seen it, though, it was actually in full repair, with an intact bridge leading up to a set of sturdy main doors - a lucky thing, since Rainbow Dash wasn’t here, and Twilight suspected Applejack’s faith in her ability to cast a spell was a little lacking.

“Celestia’s castle?” Applejack asked. “Ah didn’t expect it to be so...”

“Dark?” Twilight asked, as a flock of winged creatures flew out from one of the towers.

“What?” Applejack shook her head. “Twi, it’s fine. Take off those darn sunglasses.”

“Oh, right.” Twilight removed the articles from her eyes, and suddenly the world gained several magnitudes of brightness. The castle looked a great deal less threatening, a sturdy granite instead of black obsidian.

“Ah was gonna say,” Applejack said, “Neglected. Look at it, this place ain’t been cared for none in years.”

Twilight looked around, and admitted Applejack had a point. While the castle itself was fine, the grounds were definitely in need of care, overgrown and weed-infested. Broken statues littered the once-fine garden, none of them figures that Twilight could recognize thanks to the disrepair.

The two mares were reminded once more that this wasn’t their world, and approached the main doors of the castle. As they did, a thought came to Twilight’s mind.

“I just thought of something,” she said, “You know how Nightmare Moon and Discord are good in this world, and everything’s generally wrong?”

“Y’all don’t need to remind me,” Applejack muttered, thinking of Sweet Pear Acres.

“Well,” Twilight continued, “What if Princess Celestia is...”

Applejack stopped, frowning. “Dangit, Twi.”

“What?”

“Aaah, Ah just thought of it, now, and Ah can’t shake it. Now m’ stomach’s fullla butterflies.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Twilight tried to undo her mistake. “I mean, we faced down Nightmare Moon and Discord easy enough, didn’t we?”

“Well, yeah,” Applejack admitted, “But we had our friends right there with us. We were all in it together, y’know? Now, it’s just th’ two of us.”

The two finally arrived at the door, and Twilight used her magic to pull back the door knocker, looking at Applejack.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The bang of knocker on metal echoed around them as Twilight slammed the lump of metal into the door with a rattle. There was a moment of silence as the two listened for a response, then-

“DAMN YOU!” a pervasive, booming version of Celestia’s voice yelled from within the castle. “DAMN YOU TO TARTARUS! MAY YOUR SOUL BURN IN THE FIERY PITS OF TIREK!”

Twilight’s ears turned more purple than usual as the loud shouting moved from condemnations to personal insults and threats of bodily harm to them and everything they loved. Even Applejack, who, truth be told, had heard a lot more nasty words than Twilight had, was wincing a little at the kind of language being thrown about.

“Twi,” Applejack said, speaking loudly to be heard over a suggestion that they immediately go find a sword and disembowel themselves with it, “Any ideas?”

“I’ve never heard the princess get this angry before!” Twilight deferred, trying to ignore an accusation about how her mother was a hamster and her father smelled of elderberries, “I honestly didn’t think this was even possible!”

“Princess!” Applejack bellowed. “What in the hay has your knickers in a twist?!”

“Applejack!” Twilight hissed. “You don’t just ask the princess what’s got her knickers in a twist!”

“Why not?” Applejack muttered. “Ah ain’t no fancy psychologist, but th’ Princess sounds like she’s sufferin’ from a big ol’ case of Posterior Pain, and ain’t no way she’s gonna calm down until we find out what’s causin’ it.”

“YOU HAVE KNOCKED ON THE DOORS OF MY CITADEL,” Celestia boomed, “AND PRESUMABLY, YOU ARE HERE TO SELL ME SOMETHING! AND I JUST GOT COMFORTABLE ON MY COUCH HALF A YEAR AGO!”

“We’re not here to sell anything!” Twilight yelled back.

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THE WORD OF CHRIST, SINGULO, NAR-SIE, OR THE HONKMOTHER, EITHER!”

“We ain’t no door-to-door salesponies!” Applejack retorted. “We’re here to pick up somethin’, the Queen said y’all had it!”

There was a moment of silence, then a groan of complaint.

“FINE. COME IN, WIPE YOUR HOOVES, CLOSE THE DOOR, YOU’LL LET THE HEAT OUT!”

Twilight and Applejack looked at each other, shrugged, and Twilight pulled the doors open with a tug of magic. Applejack turned a pale shade of green as a rush of malodorous wind rushed out of the darkness beyond the doors and into her face.

“Oh sweet...” Applejack gagged. “It smells like old cheese poofs! You know, those dagnabbed orange things Pinkie insists on eatin’ before gettin’ her grubby hooves all over mah boardgames?”

Twilight took a whiff and blanched. “Yeah, ew.”

The two steeled themselves, and advanced into the castle proper, doing as Celestia’s voice had bidden them and closing the door behind them, despite their own common sense screaming at them to at least leave it open and let some of this fetid air out.

They stood still for a moment, trying to breathe shallowly through their mouths as their eyes adjusted to the half-light. They were standing in the main hall of the castle, with stairs to the left and right leading up to higher levels of the castle. Ahead of them, the carpet runner they were standing on stretched into the gloom, the once-rich-red fabric dirtied by substances neither of the two could or wanted to identify. Celestia telling them to wipe their hooves before coming in seemed a little hypocritical in light of this.

In short, the ruined castle back in their world looked, smelt and probably was better than this... hovel.

“Ah’ve heard of sloppy,” Applejack muttered, “RD’s is pretty bad. But this is just...”

“I can’t believe Celestia lives here,” Twilight winced. “This is so unlike her... she used to give me looks if she caught me being lazy and leaving stacks of books and scrolls all over my tower at Canterlot.”

“Come this way!” Celestia’s voice rang out from ahead of them, a great deal quieter now that she wasn’t bellowing through closed doors. “In the throne room!”

The two mortal mares gulped, and strode forward with confidence. The darkness parted to reveal a slightly ajar pair of doors, through which an eerie, pale light flickered. Twilight nosed the door open gingerly, mindful of the orange stains in the wood, and gasped involuntarily, no longer caring what the air she breathed tasted like.

As with the rest of the castle, the damage of time that they had seen last time in the castle was replaced with the damage of sloth; broken windows and masonry gave way to piles of greasy boxes and bins of plastic bottles. A once-present air of supernaturally evil darkness was now simply a natural air of rancid sweat.

In the middle of the throne room, amidst a small island and sea of discarded food wrappers, a large couch sat, positioned just so next to a crystal sphere on a pedestal. It was by this orb that the room was illuminated, and this orb alone, since the windows were so caked with grime that no matter what was in the sky outside, the best you could get was a faint glow.

And reclining on the couch was a grubby white lump of flesh. It took a bit of looking, but you could spot the wings, horn and golden regalia of the alicorn that Applejack and Twilight knew so well.

“Princess Celestia!” Twilight gasped. “What happened?”

The white mare rotated a magenta eye to face the two standing in the doorway, and her horn glowed with a magical light as Celestia cast a spell; her glowing irises betrayed the dark-vision spell, and Celestia frowned as she identified the two ponies who had visited her.

“Uh,” Celestia frowned. “Twilight Sparkle?”

“Yes, that’s my name,” Twilight nodded. “Do you know me, Princess?”

“Personally? No,” Celestia shrugged, and nodded at the crystal orb. “Of you? Yes. In fact, if it were up to me, I’d give you a medal for fastest mare alive, because you’re in Stalliongrad right now.”

Twilight and Applejack moved closer to the couch, picking their way through the trash piles, examining the sphere in detail. They had the wrong angle, but they could see a distorted, inverted image of a familiar purple mare prancing on the spot amidst a lineup of burly stallions.

“Yeah, about that,” Applejack said, “There’s a long ol’ story behind this whole thing. We’re from-”

“Another Equestria,” Celestia grumbled. “Of course.” Celestia craned her neck and looked at the small sea of bottles that sat elevated before her; Twilight realized there was a coffee table or similar buried under all the rubbish. Celestia plucked one bottle out, and shook it gently, frowning. “Hey, while you’re here, can you try and find me a bottle of Mountain Wind? I seem to be out.”

“Okay?” Twilight summoned up a simple light spell, and fired it into the air.

Like a flare, the fizzing sphere of light cast a stark violet light on the throne room; the piles of trash extended right up to the walls, with paths worn down to the carpet where ponies had walked in times past. There were some rustles as creatures further out hissed and retreated into piles of rubbish, the sounds disturbing Twilight and Applejack greatly.

A creature very close to Twilight hissed loudly, and the two mares looked to see Celestia cringing and cowering beneath the red glow, snarling and shielding her eyes.

“It burns us!” Celestia screeched. “The red star, it burns us!”

Twilight quickly killed the light, having already spotted what was requested and teleporting a bottle of “Mountain Wind” to her hooves. She waited until Celestia was uncurling before tossing the half-full bottle to her parallel mentor, who caught it, and popped the cap off, taking a deep drink straight from the bottle before belching loudly.

Applejack shook the expression of mild horror from her face, before squaring her shoulders and getting down to business. “Princess Celestia, we’re here for six crystals that open portals to another world. Discord said y’all had them.”

“Probably,” Celestia grunted, itching her flank with a hoof as she returned her gaze to the orb, her own eyes glazing over somewhat as she immersed herself in the vision on the other side. From what Twilight and Applejack could see, an incredibly toned Twilight lookalike was lifting weights almost as large as herself, seemingly without magic.

The trio watched the orb for a few moments, Celestia quietly muttering encouragement as the other Twilight set about securing yet another gold medal for herself, until Applejack finally snapped.

“Sometime today?” the apple farmer asked, quantifiably ticked off. “Only, Ah’ve had about enough o’ this messed up world, and Ah just want to go home now.”

“Fiiiine,” Celestia groaned, throwing her hooves in the air before rolling over. There was a crackling sound as a seal of dried sweat and Mountain Wind was broken, and Twilight silently agreed with Applejack about having had enough of this world. The ex-ruler lay on her back, staring at Twilight and Applejack over a rippling, rotund belly.

There was another bout of silence, albeit a lot shorter this time, as Celestia broke it herself.

“Well, let’s see it, then,” Celestia grunted. “We’re on ad-break.”

“We don’t have the gems,” Twilight denied. “You do. That’s why we’re here.”

Celestia sighed, a sickly sweet and cheesy gust of air that washed over the two mares. “Gotta do everything myself, do I?”

The once-princess felt her side, and not noticing the disgust of Applejack and Twilight, lifted a roll of fat, reaching inside to scoop a square object out, which she tossed to Twilight, who had the unenviable task of catching it while avoiding any physical contact or close proximity to the sweat-stained artefact.

“There should be six crystals in there,” Celestia grunted, rolling over once more and returning to her position.

Twilight thanked her lucky stars for telekinesis and opened the box; inside, somewhat grimy thanks to less-than-ideal storage conditions, were six crystals, just like the ones that had started this whole sordid adventure.

“Great,” Applejack said. “Set ‘er up here, let’s get.”

“We don’t have an apple, though,” Twilight said, removing the crystals nonetheless and throwing them into the stratum that constituted a floor with surgical precision.

“Don’t matter,” Applejack grunted, looking around. “Here, use this,” she said, holding something round and half-eaten on her hoof.

Twilight took the proffered object and grimaced. “A loaded baked potato, half eaten,” she analyzed. “Populated by some sort of furry growth.”

“Yo,” the mouldy potato grunted. “What up, hotcakes?”

Twilight blushed, and placed the potato in the middle of the circle. “I think that’s it. Was there anything else, Applejack?”

“Nope,” Applejack said, standing roughly where she’d been standing at the start of this journey, relative to the circle.

“Are you guys doing it here?” Celestia whined. “Can’t you do it outside?”

“Too slow,” Applejack grunted. “Twilight, go!”

Twilight nodded, and with much less caution than the first time around, shoved magic into the array, rapidly causing them to thrum with a glow of power. The slow creep of magic was accelerated thanks to the pinpoint-precise magical pressure Twilight was applying, and in no time at all, they met underneath the potato in the middle of the circle, which honestly seemed astonished to be at the middle of such strange goings-on.

There was an explosion. Bits of old pizza box and Shasta bottle went flying everywhere, and Celestia cried out in pain and despair as the explosion simultaneously blinded her and knocked her crystal orb off it’s stand.

Her vision cleared, and she levered herself up on an elbow, looking at where the two mares had been standing with no small amount of annoyance. There was a plinking sound as an old can cooled rapidly, and the smell of burned potato was in the air, accompanying the shallow crater carved out of her floor and nearby trash piles.

“Bucking tourists,” Celestia grunted, before using her magic to return the orb to it’s place on the pedestal, before settling back down to watch what was left of the Stalliongrad Games.

~~~~~~~

Dear Princess Celestia,

As you have probably heard by now, Applejack and I found a very strange artefact, a set of six crystals which can be used to open portals to other worlds. Attached is an account of our initial trip to “Pear” Equestria, as detailed as I care to remember.

Since then, we’ve had no problems whatsoever, and I am fairly sure we weren’t followed back by anything. I’m personally just glad to be back home with my friends; I’m fairly sure Applejack’s glad to be back with friends and family as well, she made a point of volunteering to keep an eye on Applebloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo for the day, to make up for Rarity having to do the same for the week we were away.

~~~~~

It’s awful nice of you to offer to help me charcoal this field,” Golden Harvest said, smiling. “It’s going to save me so much time!”

Golden Harvest and Applejack were standing at the edge of the pear orchard, along with a large, tarp-covered cart.

“Aw, shoot,” Applejack grinned, tugging the brim of her hat with one hoof as she leaned upright against a cart, her other elbow resting on the edge of the cart. “Ain’t nothing, just bein’ neighborly and all.”

“Still,” Golden Harvest said. “Stop by my house when you’re done, I owe you a bag of carrots or something.”

“Oh, okay,” Applejack smiled. “You win, Gold.”

“I always do,” Golden Harvest grinned. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Applejack waved as Golden Harvest walked away, and watched the mare disappear over a hill in the road. Satisfied the coast was clear, she whipped the tarpaulin off the cart with a brisk motion, revealing a large number of red canisters, and three fillies cradling four stick-like nozzles with rubber hoses attached to the ends.

“Alright, you three,” Applejack said sternly, lifting them out of the cart one by one. “Y’all know the rules about this. No tellin’ Big Mac, Granny Smith, or Rarity. Or Twi. Definitely don’t tell Twi.”

“What about Rainbow Dash?” Scootaloo asked, raising an orange hoof.

“Y’all can tell RD,” Applejack said, looking around. “But do it quiet-like and where nopony else can hear y’all.”

“So,” Applebloom said, cradling her stick, fiddling with one of the levers. “Y’ called this a “flamethrower”?”

“Eeyup,” Applejack nodded. “We’re gonna put the burn to this whole damned field. Remember, no pointin’ these things at each other or other ponies, alright? Dangerous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sweetie Belle muttered, hooking a red canister to her flamethrower before throwing the tank over her back, and sitting on her haunches to light the pilot light with a snap of the igniter. “When do we get to burn things?”

“Go nuts,” Applejack said, helping the other two crusaders get their flamethrowers set up. “Just be careful, okay? Ain’t gonna be easy explainin’ myself if y’all come back with burns, y’hear?”

The three fillies reared up, readied their flamethrowers, and thrust them into the air, columns of flame reaching into the sky.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER FLAME SANCTIFIERS! HOORAY!”

~~~~~

Also worth noting are the existence of other worlds, ones that don’t necessarily run parallel to our own. Some are pleasant enough, others are hostile lands torn by strife and war. All had some sort of thinking creatures within, even if some of them did make a point of exterminating their fellow sentients for no reason we could identify.

~~~~~

“Was ist der sinn davon?!” The angry creature screeched. “Nehmen sie mich dieses fahnenmast, in diesem augenblick! Ich fordere sie es!”

Twilight didn’t relent, further securing the rear of the human’s grey lower garment over the top of the pole with her magic, and leaving him to hang. Fabric stretched, but otherwise held, suspending the self-proclaimed “Fuhrer” high above the ground in a parody of a flag, legs and arms flailing helplessly.

Far below, just behind Twilight and Applejack, a small quartet of humans stood; clothed differently to the one on the flagpole in uniforms of olive green, they seemed to take particular delight at the angry human’s misfortune.

“That,” one of them said, ignoring the angry human’s continued, indecipherable shouting, “Was hilarious. Applejack, was it? That was one hell of a kick.”

Applejack looked up at the angry man’s bruised face and nodded satisfactorily. “Ah don’t usually hurt folks, but that felt good, like he had it comin’ to him.”

“Trust me,” the olive human grunted. “He did.”

“Alright,” Twilight said. “We did what you wanted. We hung the Hitler from his own flagpole by his underpants. We even hit him for you. Now you give us what you said you would.”

“Of course,” the man chuckled. “If only you two had shown up earlier... Riley!”

“Yes, Sarge?”

“Give these girls what we agreed on,” Sarge said, “Throw in the flamethrowers, too.”

“Flamethrowers?” Twilight asked.

“Ah, don’t sweat it, Twi,” Applejack chuckled. “It’s for me. Figured Ah might as well grab one while we were here, ain’t got nothin’ like them back home, be real useful.”

“Useful for what?” Twilight asked. Applejack was spared a need to respond when Riley dragged a box before them, and popped it open.

“There,” Riley said. “All the fruit we could find.”

“Banana... lemons... grapes?” Twilight rummaged through the box. “Any apples?”

“Well, we got one apple,” Riley admitted, pulling it out of his pocket. “But I was... kinda hoping to save it. I haven’t had an apple in so long...”

“Sorry,” Twilight said. “That’s kinda what we need. The apple.”

“Won’t a pear do?” Riley asked, fishing one out of the box. “Pears are just as good as- hey!”

Orange hooves lashed out, neatly kicking pear-flavored mush out of Riley’s hand and across the ground. Riley’s hand remained clawed for a moment, before closing slowly.

“Apple it is, then. Here, I’ll swap you. I’ll make do with a banana.”

“Thank you,” Twilight nodded, taking the red fruit.

The humans watched the two mares go about their strange ritual, producing strange crystals and slamming them into the ground with surprising force. Even Hitler went silent, watching the strange creatures that had rampaged through one of his most secure arcane research facilities, before kicking down his own bunker door and hoisting him by his underpants from his own flag.

Lights flared, and with a soft bang, the two ponies were gone.

Sarge looked up at Hitler, then at the rest of his squad.

“You all do realize this can’t go into the history books, right? Who’d believe us?”

~~~~~

Even in worlds torn by war, we found that friendship always survives, even when there is precious little to laugh about. Although there are no elements of harmony in any other world that we saw, and precious little magic that we’re used to. It could bear investigating.

And while my previous attempts to study just how Pinkie Pie works were thwarted seemingly by fate itself, I’d consider looking into her as well, since she was able to follow us across six separate worlds and berate us on three of them for missing the party at Rarity’s last Friday.

Also enclosed with this letter are the six crystals that Pear Schnapps once possessed. While I won’t presume to tell you what to do, Princess, I will strongly recommend that you take them, and either throw them into the sun or lock them away where nopony can ever use them again, because they’re honestly more trouble than they’re worth.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and get a nice, simple daisy sandwich. It’s been too long.

Your faithful student,

“Jedi Master” Twilight Sparkle