Chaotic Harmony, a pony who crafted mystical stories of woe that made ponies return to their beds and sob as well as one who crafted those that made tears that sprouted from laughter, figured that a simple trip to the market wouldn't change anything about his day other than how much ink was in his inkwell.

Of course, he was wrong.

Just saying this now in my amazing fourth wall breaking powers, don't take this fic seriously. Seriously. You're brain cells will die if you do.

A semi-sequel to Sunshine and Celery... Stalkers?

<This was written as a gift to me by one of my good friends on IRC, who told me I could post it here. I hope you enjoy the randomness.>