I dive in at the deep end

You become my best friend

-Coldplay, X & Y

The sunset was beautiful-it made the world look like a '90's commercial for soup or cough syrup.  It made a perfect backdrop for Marlon's show....

...Or at least it would have, had the ship not been in the way.  The metal wad blocked much of the sunlight, only letting some in from the sides; Constitution Avenue was experiencing midnight at 7 PM.  The only light came from streetlamps and the hundreds of citizens gathered around the lawn snapping flash photographs of the multitude of aliens.  Fortunately, a myriad of soldiers had been positioned behind the gates, whose gun brandishing skills kept the citizens at bay.  One citizen charged the gate, forcing a soldier (codename:  Artery) to decorate his cerebellum with a hole.  The cut was so clean that one could have, with a little handiwork, inserted lenses to create a functioning monocular (had the blood not been "pulling a Niagara Falls").

Meanwhile, Richard Marlon was beginning another exciting episode of "D.C. Unveiled."  The theme music (which had graciously been recorded by Widespread Panic:  one of the President's favorite bands) had been rolled, and Marlon smiled for the American camera, which was purposely zoomed in to only show his head.  The other cameras followed suit, but from different angles.

"Good evening, America!  Tonight I have some breaking news for all of you, and it might be hard for some of you to take in:  aliens... exist.  Yes, you heard me correctly:  aliens... exist.  For those of you who haven't heard, a massive UFO landed in D.C. this morning, placing itself on top of the Washington Monument.  My friend General Melski called up and asked if he should shoot 'em.  'No,' I said.  'If they're not showing any present signs of hostility, I wanna see 'em myself!  Don't want to make a bad impression on 'em if they're not hostile!'  So, I went out to the Mall and shoved my way through the crowd of people and soldiers to get a better look at our visitors.  Most of the people thought I had snapped-putting my life in danger like this.  But, there were no signs of hostility, so naturally, I was curious.

As it turns out, these things are shaped like horses; some of them are actually unicorns and pegasi.  I was astonished at the sight and walked strongly to the leaders and said-

*UUURRPPP!!*

No!  No!  That's not what I said.  Sorry, folks.  I had a soda earlier and, well, some things just slip out."

Marlon always included a bit of humor in his broadcasts to keep the audience interested.  He was obsessed with breaking the "boring, stuck-up politician" routine, but this accidental belch embarrassed him, what with the unusually momentous occasion and all.

"What I actually said was, 'On behalf of the human race, I welcome you to planet Earth.  I am Richard Xavier Marlon, President of the United States of America.'

The leaders introduced themselves as Celestia and Luna, and formally stated that they meant peace to our race.  Their homeworld had been destroyed, and they were looking for a new place to live.  Questions remain, though:  where exactly did they come from?  What do they eat?  Why can they speak English?

Fortunately, they're right here to answer those questions!"

The cameras zoomed-out from his head to capture the entire room, exposing Celestia, the six ponies, and Spike, who was casually sitting down and reclining against the left arm (the closest to the American camera) of Celestia's couch, his hands cradling the back of his head like a cigar-smoking business executive who had just closed a deal.

"I thought it would be good idea for the world to watch an interview with the aliens to ease any fear.  As I said earlier, the last thing we need is another war.

Today we have the privilege of interviewing Celestia and seven of her subjects, some of which are, in fact, the aforementioned unicorns and pegasi.  Trust me, you're looking at your screen correctly.

Luna doesn't usually come out until the deep night-time due to her photosensitivity, so I didn't want to put her through another strenuous experience (As if the whole new-world thing wasn't enough!).  To make the transition more durable, I'm letting her stay in my walk-in closet with all the lights turned off.  My personnel will show her how to get to the Oval Office if she wants to be in the interview.

So, Celestia, thank you for being here today and being so... accepting of a new race."

"You're very welcome.  I thank you for doing the same.  I imagine that many of your people would not have had the same reaction."

"Not everyone on Earth counts as 'my people,' but you're probably right.  The U.S.A. is just one of many countries on Earth.  For some reason, a lot of people look up to me, so I decided to make first public contact.  I imagine those three soldiers in the ship were the real 'first,' though."

"Yes; they were nice people.  One introduced himself as 'Jack Holman,' another wanted only to leave the ship, and one just looked around with a straight face the whole time.  Were those your elite soldiers?"

"Not exactly,"  Marlon said.  In truth, those lower-ranks were sent in as recon to check for hostility, since Melski didn't want to sacrifice the elite ones just yet.

Besides, Melski had said, recruitment rate's low enough as it is.  With the budget cuts and all, we can't afford to throw the best, guns-a-blazin' guys in there-might lose 'em and have to spend a ton more money on years of training.  Also, maybe the more inexperienced ones are more "close to home," and can make a better impression.  Besides... whispered Melski, those were the kind of guys who barely got promoted at all.  Melski's decision had made the social media erupt with angry comments from those who sat at home and presumably masturbated to the military all day.  Melski hated social media, but his friends had e-mailed some comments to him to inform him of public opinion.  The worst posts were from the army and marine loyalists (who were, for the most part, not members of either organization): Why didn't they have hazmat suits?  Why'd you send low-ranks in there, fucktard! Why did you believe them when they said they weren't hostile?  You shoulda shot first, cockwipe!  Does no one in the whole military have any goddam common sense anymore?!?

How the people knew that Melski had made the decision, he would never know.  Probably some wacko eavesdropping janitor told it to his kids, or something.  Besides, Melski had never dealt with aliens before.

Pussy! the media loyalists had kept writing.

Can't believe anyone actually gets horny by the U.S. military.  Our forces are something to be proud of, but... damn....

Melski's words rang in Marlon's head as he had his quick flashback.  In hindsight, it was unusually cruel to sacrifice slackers, but the task had been completed, and there was no use in arguing about it now.

"It's a long story, but we had a definite reason for sending them in there above others."

It's the truth.  

"Anyhow, let's get down to business!  So, Celestia, why have you come to Earth?"

"Our homeworld, the planet Equestria, was destroyed by Discord, the god of chaos.  He had been trying for many years to undo my rule, but he finally completed the task on his third major attempt.  Fortunately, my network of informants alerted me of his attack, so I had time to prepare my people."

"I know you said he's the 'god of chaos,' but can you give a more complete description?  I like to be able to perfectly picture things in my head."

"His head vaguely resembles a pony's, and his body is made up of other mismatched animal parts, such as the arms of a lion and lizard.  He has four limbs, but the body is long and thin, like a snake's.  He can fly, teleport, and hypnotize ponies, and has been a scourge to Equestria since his birth."

"And you've actually seen him?  He isn't just some drawing?"

"Sometimes he appears as one, but can physically remove himself from the paper.  Once, he literally made himself a part of Canterlot's stained glass windows, and moved through them as he normally would have in three dimensions."

Holy shit, that's creepy.

"How did he destroy the planet, might I ask, and why did you choose that giant disc for a ship?"

"Discord used his magic to lift the surface of Equestria into space, killing all other life on the planet....  I had never known he was that powerful.  I had had a troubling time choosing a vessel for our escape, but the only thing I could find that was small enough to be powered by a normal-sized Magic Combustion Engine and could hold all of my people was the septic tank underneath Canterlot Castle."

Marlon's eyes widened, but the skin above was pulled taut to arch his eyebrows.

"So... that explains the brown stuff on your... so I was right, then....  

In case you're wondering, it smells like chocolate.  Who'da thunk it?" Marlon said quickly to the people of Earth.

"Well, why couldn't you have used a larger Magic Combustion Engine... whatever that is... and picked a different vessel?"

"A Magic Combustion Engine, or M.C.E., is powered by a unicorn's magic.  Small M.C.E.'s are used as electric generators if we experience blackouts (the pegasi sometimes overdo it with their storms).  They can easily be powered by a single unicorn."

"No, we don't," said Dashie under her breath.

"The medium-sized M.C.E.'s require the combined powers of my sister and I, and are used for hyperspeed propulsion.  The ship's staying aloft right now with power from a reserve battery stored on the ship's maintenance deck.  My sister and I gave it a blast of magic energy before we left Equestria that should let it hover for about 10 years.  With the tank's antennae, the ship is difficult to actually land, of course.  There is only one large M.C.E. in existence, and it has been flung into space by now.  It requires the combined power of every single living unicorn, plus Luna and I.  It would cause all of us to experience great physical strain, unlike the other M.C.E. versions.  If we were to engage in its operation for more than four straight hours, our muscles would contract violently and painfully, due to the unicorns' lack of magic energy to power their muscles.

The machine was stored inside the mountain that Canterlot Castle rested on, and was only to be used if our Sun was to stop conducting fusion altogether.  The engine would fire a concentrated beam of magic energy at our star to reverse its passage through time until it returned to a main sequence state.  Otherwise, Equestria would be swallowed by a black hole."    

"Has the machine ever been used?"

"Once, ten thousand years ago.  Our star was so close to oblivion that the machine was used for six hours straight.  Most of the unicorn population died that day, but some miraculously survived, which is why unicorns still exist today."

"Well, that's quite an interesting history lesson.  One odd little question though:  what are the antennae on the ship for?"

"Those are magic conduits that teleported the... unwanted residue... to our lifeless sister planet, Emptium.  Starswirl pointed it out as fifty times as large as Equestria, which would equate to ten times the size of Earth.  Its surface is made of nothing but smooth, grey, rock, and its winds of pure Chunk Gas make it extremely undesirable to colonize.  Thus it is a perfect place to send useless things in general."

"What's with the stains, then?"

"The tank hadn't been emptied before we left Equestria, and we didn't want to dump it into space, for fear of its eventual collision with an inhabited planet.  It's relatively harmless to us, but we didn't know if it would be considered toxic by other life forms."

"This is actually a very interesting story, but can we focus on your homeworld itself, now?  Not all the people of Earth really like to hear about... ya know... that stuff.

Sorry, people of Earth.  I was curious," Marlon said to the American camera.

"I understand.  You may continue with your questions."

"So... your homeworld was called Equestria, eh?  On Earth, we use the term 'equestrian' to describe horses, which you definitely resemble.  That's interesting, since your race is called 'the Ponies.'  Do you have an explanation for this, or is it just a one-in-a-billion coincidence?"

"Well..."

Celestia put her hoof to her chin, deeply pondering how to respond.

"We've... been to Earth before,"  Celestia said to a camera guiltily.  "We didn't let on to this fact so as not to alarm you humans."

"Wow, that explains a lot!"  Marlon turned to face the camera, parodying a Ferris Bueller facial expression.  "Quite a bombshell, eh, folks?

When did you do this?" asked Marlon, as intrigued as a Jerry Springer audience member.  

Celestia turned to the American camera for her next history lesson:  "We Equestrians have dabbled in space travel throughout the ages, and once sought to find other habitable planets for possible colonization if our population were to increase obnoxiously.  The explorers traveled in vessels powered by unicorn magic alone.  Spells were used to allow them to live for years at a time while eating little, as we used for our recent journey.

Nearly three-thousand years ago, a team of five ponies and three dragons ventured into space.  They sent back written messages of a planet known by its inhabitants as "Earth."  They were able to communicate with the inhabitants via translation spells;  whatever the inhabitants said was translated into Equestrian, and the team's voices were automatically translated into the local language.

The team members were hailed as gods by the locals, which were humans just like you.  The two races consequently lived in peace, and were constantly exchanging lessons of civilization, technology, and friendship in general.  After many years though, rival human factions grew hostile towards the team.  In the process, the Equestrians' ship was destroyed.  I received many messages, begging for help, but they were too far into space for my teleportation spell to work.  Magic is, after all, based on mass and distance, which is why the thin written messages could be sent.

Each member of the team was eventually killed, but the last two unicorns to die used a memory-wipe spell on the humans.  Unfortunately, it was not very strong, only being performed by two ponies at once.  I imagine that some of the locals kept stories of our race."

"Well, why did you decide to come back?" a sympathetic Marlon inquired.

"There are two reasons:  For one, this was the only planet we had ever found to contain enough plants and water to support us.  In addition, we had thought you humans would have become extinct by now, victims of your own wars.  We were wrong, and your society has greatly changed."

"I suddenly feel important," Marlon said comedically.  "One queston:  did the team ever describe exactly where they had landed?"

"They were near a large sea, surrounded by the locals' architecture.  It was all based on rectangles and elaborate columns."

Marlon pondered this for a moment, then remembered the Donald in Mathemagic Land tape he had seen when he was young.

Architecture was based on "The Golden Section."  The rectangles repeat themselves in examples like this-the Parthenon...

"That must have been ancient Greece.  And in case you were wondering, they did keep stories about you; we know them today.  They're known as the "Greek Myths," but I guess the one about pegasi wasn't as mythical as I had thought.  There were stories of dragons from the medieval ages, so the stories must have been passed down until they reached Europe."  Marlon spoke deliberately, due to his interest in history, especially the kind that had living accounts.

"Well, that was definitely interesting, Celestia, and I hope to hear more soon.

We'll be back after these messages," Marlon said to America.  "Sorry 'bout that, folks, but I don't want to use your tax money on this completely unnecessary show."

He smiled and made a thumbs-up as the cameras faded out.

"OK, that was great!  Keep it up!

Don't you worry, you'll get your turns once Celestia's finished," he said to the seven smaller creatures.

"U-um, Mr. Marlon, uh, sir?" said Fluttershy timidly.  She had been sure to sit the farthest away from the American camera.

"What's wrong there, Fluttershy?"

"Um-uh, will I... h-have to talk in front of all these people?"

"Well, it would certainly be nice if you could.  You'd make a great impression on the humans with your personality.  Besides, the cameras aren't people-they're just machines.  Technically, you won't be talking in front of anyone at all except for the camera crew."

A cameraman waved toward the yellow creature.

"Well, I-I-I-I'm a little scared."

Please fix my mom's brain!

"Tell ya what:  you don't have to talk if you don't want to, but if you change your mind, imagine that the cameras are your best friends.  Just act as you would in front of said friends; that's what I always do.

That goes for the rest of you, too.  Stage fright is easily curable with little mind tricks like that."

Twilight poofed a notepad into existence, and telekinetically picked up one of Marlon's pens from his desk.

"Do you mind if I use this?  That was an interesting little lesson that I could probably use later."

"No problem.  Just remember to put it back when you're done."

"Oh, that won't be a problem..."

"Y'all might wanna trust 'er on that'un," added AppleJack.

"Duly noted," replied Marlon.

Twilight quickly scribbled something down, then poofed away the notepad to wherever the hell it came from, and placed the pen exactly where it had been.

"Thanks, Mr. Marlon."

"Where did you get that notepad?  Did you just transform air into paper or what?"

"I teleported it from my room on the upper deck of the ship.  I'm practicing pure matter transformation, but I'm not that good at it yet.  Teleportation's a much easier spell."

Marlon's eyes flinched to the Scottish cameraman.

Beam me up, Scotty...

Marlon subdued a chuckle at the reference.

"We might want to get ready again-the commercial will be over soon."

The American cameraman held up ten fingers and counted down.

"Alright, everybody, it's showtime... again!"

The cameraman pointed at Marlon, his hand in a rubber-band-shooting pose.

"Welcome back to D.C. Unveiled, everyone.  For those of you who didn't set your DVR's to this channel:  a quick recap.

A-hem...  Aliens!!"  Marlon held out his arms to the ponies.  

"So, Celestia, I've got a few more Q's for you, and then we can move on to your subjects, Kay?"

"Hm-hm.  Continue."

"I remember you said something about a translation spell earlier that allows your language to automatically be translated into the surrounding one.  Are you using it on us now?  If you are, why isn't your horn glowing?"

"Yes.  I'm using it now.  I'm casting it over all of my subjects in this room, while other unicorns outside are performing it on the ones nearest them.  And my horn isn't glowing because this is a spell that requires only microscopic amounts of magic.  Ironically, it uses less energy than teleportation, and my horn's brightness is directly proportional to the energy being used."

"She's a pip, eh, folks?

Well, Celestia, could you do me a favor and possibly turn the translator off so we can hear what your original language sounds like?"

"Of course."

Celestia stared at Marlon, as did the other ponies.

"Well?  Can you say something?"

Nothing.  The ponies didn't say anything-didn't even move their mouths.  Celestia turned to Twilight and nodded her head, as if in response to a question.  

Marlon suddenly felt the urge to go to the bathroom.

Oh, that's just wonderful.  My intenstines wait until I'm on TV to start pushin'.

Stronger now.  Celestia stared at him and cocked her head slightly, as if waiting for him to say something.

Marlon saw a cameraman begin to clutch his abdomen.  He appeared to be straining himself greatly.

The urge was stronger now-his guts seeming to unravel by the second.

Not on TV!  Not on TV!

What could be the matter?  Marlon had not had a big breakfast nor a lot of soda; he had barely eaten anything all day.

The ponies were moving their heads at each other, as if in conversation, but Marlon could hear nothing.

Why can't I hear them?

At that moment, Marlon remembered a lecture about sound waves from his high school physics class.

If the body is exposed to waves that have a low enough frequency, their guts will loosen up, causing them to shit their pants like a madman.

Marlon's photographic memory served him well.  Otherwise, he would never have thought to say:

"T-turn it back on.  Turn it back on."

Marlon mouthed this heavily, and waved his index finger in a circular motion to emphasize his point beyond the translation barrier.

It's the brown note!  What kind of a language is this?!

"Are you OK?" said Celestia.

The urge stopped immediately, but the shit was ready to flow free.  Marlon had to exercise his expert undercover squeezing skills.

"Yes, yes.  I'm fine.  Everybody OK?" he said to the crew.

They gave thumbs-ups, except for a light operator, who had presumably run to the bathroom.

"Well, people of Earth, the reason that they didn't make any sound is because their language is spoken with such a low frequency that we can't hear it.  How do I know this?  Let me put it this way:  I feel like I just ate bad chicken and a can of beans at the same time.  I hope your speakers at home didn't convey it so well."

Marlon was still clutching his belly, panting slightly and sweating from his episode.

"I'll try to make it to the next commercial break," he said with a chuckle.

"I'm sorry if I caused you pain.  Your ears don't seem to be calibrated to our low frequencies."

"It's no problem.  I should've asked."

That would have been a stupid fuckin' question:  "Just out of curiosity, your language isn't spoken in the brown note, is it?"

Marlon was intrigued by the fact that the frequency was completely readjusted with their speaking style; the translation magic was strong stuff.

"Why weren't your mouths moving?"

"Our mouths aren't moving now; it's an illusion that accompanies the translation spell-a form of mild hypnosis, if you will.  We only use our mouths for eating, since our language is spoken from deep within the throat and requires no mouth movement.  The illusion is put on so as not to frighten foreign races."

Marlon remembered the Twilight Zone episode To Serve Man, with the aliens whose mouths stayed motionless.

She's right.  That would be creepy as hell!

"Before the next commercial break, can you tell me where Equestria is in respect to Earth?"

"We live in a large galaxy not too far from yours.  With the M.C.E. installed, our journey here took about three years.  Compared to the rest of the universe, that's comparable a nanosecond."

"Do you have a name for the galaxy?"

"We call it 'The Equestrian Spiral,' but you might have a different name for it.  I'm sure Twilight knows of some good star charts."

"Twilight, can you get one here?"

"Yes,"  Twilight walked forward to the seal and shook Marlon's hand (again).

"Folks, this is Twilight Sparkle, one of Celestia's subjects.  Believe it or not, these creatures can perform magic.  Turns out it wasn't mythical after all!  So, Miss Sparkle, would you mind showing the world your 'superpower?'"

Twilight said nothing, preferring not to waste words.  Her horn glowed, and, with a flash, a 4' x 4' blue star chart appeared on his lap.

"Thanks, Twilight." Marlon turned to the camera.  "That's right, people, you saw that correctly.  A star chart appeared out of thin air on my lap.  You can tell these things aren't hostile, because if they were, with that kind of power, we'd all be dead by now."

Marlon had taken an astronomy class in 11th grade, so he knew the basics of a star chart.  

With the center of the universe being extradimensional,  the universe looks the same from all perspectives.

He pored over the chart for a few seconds and found the Milky Way.

"OK, that's where we are," he said, pointing at the small Milky Way shape.  "Where are you, again?"

"Right here," Twilight said, indicating another galaxy shape with her hoof.

Andromeda!

Marlon was stunned.  The creatures closely resembled horses and closely related to humans on a planet closely related to Earth in a galaxy close to the Milky Way.  Mankind had seen past its driveway of the interstellar neighborhood, turned its head to the left to see the next house, and said "Hi!"

Better write that one down.  Could work in a speech.

"Well, folks, here's a shocker:  the ponies come from Andromeda!  They're practically next-door neighbors!"

"That's an odd name for a galaxy," Twilight said.

"We call ours the Milky Way-doesn't get much weirder than that.  It's amazing how deep your astronomical knowledge is."  The chart was as complete as one from Earth, with added galaxies and stars Marlon had never seen before.  He marveled at the stranger of the previously unknown dots:  The spirals of Sholma, Klordyus, and Neverfree; the stars Lunus, Philomena, Snowflake, Colgate, and Sweetie; and the planets Emptium, Smoothik, Splinz, Faxin, Zzilchyk, and Ook.  

"Starswirl the Bearded was a big fan of astronomy.  He made the original version of this map eons ago, and it wouldn't have been possible without his magical telescope.  Interesting fact:  Starswirl decided to name that planet "Ook" because he had just hit his head on a bookcase and said 'Ook.'  I guess he was having trouble thinking of another name."

Twilight's horn glowed again, causing the chart to disappear.

"Well, here's a question for you, Twilight, since you seem to know a lot about... things...:  How does your time system compare to ours?"

"I'm don't know much about time comparisons, but I have a book on them that I haven't read much of yet."

Twilight elaborated as her horn glowed, making a large book appear on Marlon's lap.

"Starswirl the Bearded used magic and a complex series of formulae to determine year values through a few galaxies.  I think yours is in here somewhere."

Marlon flipped the leather-bound book open to the table of contents, noting the freakishly similar texture of the paper to Earth's.

"He called yours the 'Bisc,' which is short for 'barred disc.'  Admittedly, he didn't come up with the most creative names for things.  However, some of the planets on the star chart are named interestingly."

After looking at the page numbers, Twilight magically flipped the pages like lightning, landing on the precise page-1202.

Small table charts labeled with different solar systems riddled the page, but Earth's system was not difficult to find; the planets were labeled:  brown, yellow, blue (w/clouds?), red, orange, beige, blue, blue.

Guess that's ours.

The line read: 1 Equestrian year = 1 Blue (w/clouds) year:  very odd.  Never seen exact value before.

Good God.  More evidence of Equestria being another Earth!

"Well, then," Marlon said as the book vanished.  "If that's the case, how old are you and your friends?"

"We're all 20, but Fluttershy's 21."

"How long do you ponies normally live?"

"Depends.  Celestia's been around for 69,000, and she's immortal...."

Twilight leaned in closely to Marlon and whispered, "I'm not really sure about that, but she never tells me how long alicorns live.  I guess she doesn't want me to get too scared about her dying."

"Is an alicorn a cross between a pegasus and a unicorn?"

"Yes-how did you know?"

"Lucky guess."

Fortunately, the microphone on Marlon's shirt picked up the conversation, so the world could be more educated.

Twilight backed away slightly and resumed her side of the conversation.

...but I'd say we normally live to be about 400."

"Any idea what makes you live so long?"

"We age very slowly due to our cell manufacturing rate and balance of hormones.  It's also in our genes; we have 983 of them, and a substantial amount deal with long-term health retention.  I read about it in one of my books."

"You keep saying 'your' books.  Are you teleporting them from somewhere?"

"You already asked me this during the break."

"Yes, but the people of Earth probably want to know how you do that as well.  They might find it interesting."

Twilight fearlessly faced the camera.

"Well, I teleport them from my room on the ship.  I have a minor ability to convert matter, such as turning plain air into metal, but I haven't memorized the entire book, making it easier just to teleport it.  Otherwise I'd have to perform a text extraction spell on top of the matter-changing spell, and that takes a lot of energy.  Celestia can do that stuff without a problem, though."

"Ah, interesting.  Well, Twilight, due to the program's time slot, it'll be hard to cram in a full interview with you today, but you've definitely given the world a great perspective of alien intelligence.  Before I move on to your friends, are there any parting words you'd like to say to the human race?"

Twilight stared at the American camera and switched her focus to the others as she talked.

"Hello, humans!  I look forward to a future of cooperation and understanding!  I hope to work alongside you in your pursuits of knowledge!"

Twilight walked back to her spot (backwards, of course).

"There you have it, folks:  Twilight Sparkle.  I assume Celestia's had her fair share of questions for today, so let's move on to the rest of the crew here.  I actually conducted a preliminary interview with them earlier, so this should be easy."

Marlon stared at the menagerie, trying to decide on the next interviewee.

Rainbow Dash stepped forward and shook Marlon's hand, then turned to the camera.  She was obviously eager to prove her bravery on TV.

"Hi, humans.  I'm Rainbow Dash, but you can call me Rainbow, Dash, RD, Dashie, whichever you prefer.

So, this Marlon guy over here's tellin' me that you humans have some sort of plane that flies faster than sound.  Is. This. True?"

Dashie enunciated the conversation with her hoof, in an attempt to appear more appealing to the audience.  After she finished her last line, she stared at the lens for a few seconds in silence.

"Uh, Dashie?" said Marlon quietly.

"Yeah?  What's wrong?"

"Are you waiting for something?"

"How am I supposed to hear their feedback?"

"The camera can't talk back.  People are watching from the other side, but they can't talk through it."

"I thought they were just being quiet out of awe for Celestia."

"One would tend to think so...."

Note to self:  add canned laughter.

"Well, I'll just take Marlon's word for it," she said, focusing back on the camera.

"I'm gonna keep this short and sweet so that my friends can do their long, drawn-out interviews, but if you humans have any hardcore sporting events that involve moving really, really fast, don't hesitate to let me know."

Dashie returned to her space.

"Well....  Thank you for that self-interview, Dashie.  To answer your question:  yes, we do have sports that involve going really fast, such as, oh, I dunno... running."

"Is that all?"

"Well, no.  We've got car racing, horse racing, boat racing, football, and... aw, heck-just about all sports except for bowling involve going really fast."

"Sounds cool-just remember who to call if you need an extra teammate."

"Indeed," Marlon said, amazed at how little Dashie had to say.

She oughta be a natural at horse racing.

"Anything else you want to talk about besides sports?"

"Hmmm...," she said, raising a hoof to her chin.

"Nah.  Just wanted to get that out of the way."

"Nothing else about yourself?  Your family?  Your other interests?"

"I like to take naps, but that's not as important.  Next, please."

A few seconds of appropriate silence ensued.

"Alrighty then.  Who's next?"

"OOH!  PICK ME!  PICK ME!" said Pinkie, raising a front hoof high.

"Alright, folks, this is Pinkie Pie.  She's incredibly hyper and loves to do... hyper... things.  Pinkie, what are some of your favorite things to do?" Marlon said as she shook his hand violently.

"Well, I loooove cupcakes, as you know!  Parties are what I really consider myself best at, though.  I love to see ponies have a good time and know that I brightened up their day!  Have another cupcake!"

She extracted another cupcake, exactly like the last, from her poofy hair and shoved it into his mouth.

Once Marlon swallowed the cupcake, he faced the camera.

"Believe it or not, these things taste exactly like the cupcakes from supermarkets.  They're also made with freakishly familiar ingredients; you'd think she'd stolen 'em."

"Oh, no.  I wouldn't steal anything.  Besides, where's the fun in making cupcakes if you steal 'em?"

"You have a point.  Then again, I'm a terrible cook; I even have a hard time making cake from a mix.

She really likes cupcakes," whispered Marlon to the audience, while pointing his thumb at Pinkie.

Pinkie's pupils began to widen with her smile as she leaned close to Marlon.

"You don't know how to cook?" she whispered, smiling freakishly the whole time.

"No, I was never really taught, you see."

Pinkie withdrew from his face, then walked towards the camera and put a hoof up to her face to cover her mouth from Marlon.

"Your leader doesn't know how to cook!" she whispered intently.  Some cameramen carefully chuckled, not wanting to release their murdered bowels yet.

She moved back to Marlon and spoke audibly again.

"THIS MUST BE REMEDIED!"

"How are you going to do that?  Just zap a spell on me to get me to cook better?"

"Of course not, silly!  Where's the fun in that?  I'll teach you!  HUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

Pinkie expelled a massive, drawn out gasp, as if she had just discovered a cure for cancer.  She grabbed Marlon's shoulders with her two front hooves and emitted another deluge:  "Ijusthadthebestideaeveryouknowwhaticouldteachyouhowtocookonabroadcastjustlikeyouredoingnowofcourseitwontbeaboutussolelybutinsteadit'llbeacookingshowicanteachyouhowtocookandtheworldcanfollowalongthenicanteacheverybodywhaddyasay?"

"Um... I guess I can arrange something."

"I'LLTAKETHATASAYES!!!  MMMWWWWAAAHHH!!!"

She smooched him again, with slightly more force this time.  As she walked back to her spot, Marlon wiped the sweet saliva off his lips with a tissue given by the cameraman at Marlon's silent request.

"Told you she's hyper.

Alright, who's next?"

No motion.  None of the three remaining ponies volunteered themselves for a good five seconds.

"Oh, OK.  I guess someone has to step up sometime."

"This is Rarity, and she apparently is a big fan of fashion, even though the ponies don't wear clothes."

"Well, we do sometimes for big events such as the Grand Galloping Gala, and it's very important to have the highest-quality clothes ready."

"I don't know what the Grand Galloping Gala is, but I agree with your point.

What sort of clothes did you ponies wear on your homeworld?"

"Well, I mainly design dresses; they cover most of our bodies and are elaborately colored."

"Interesting-kind of like the dresses that exist on Earth.  Can you do that teleporty-thing like Twilight did and give me an example?"

"Well, unfortunately, my previous work was destroyed with our planet, but I can show you blueprints."

Rarity's horn glowed a welcoming blue, and poofed into existence a large blueprint, detailing all the specifications of an elaborate dress.

"Do you perchance have any tools for delicately pointing at things?"

"Actually yes," Marlon said as he pulled a green laser pointer from his pocket (for just such an occasion).

"You'll have to do a bit of tricky magic work for this one, but if you can push the button and levitate it at the same time, you can point at stuff."

"O...Kay?" Rarity said, unsure of exactly what a laser was.  She effortlessly lifted it up and pointed to the minute details....

"Oh, my!  This light is beautiful!" said Rarity, now more captivated by the laser than the blueprint.  "However do you humans produce such a brilliant green?"

"Well, that's called a 'laser,'" Marlon said, imitating Mike Myers's Dr. Evil character with hooked fingers on the last word.  "The green light is due to a relatively high electromagnetic wavelength of... well, it's a complicated process."

Marlon had once known the specifics of how a laser worked, but had long since forgotten  The introduction had made him sound intelligent, though.

"Well, I adore the color.  Could I borrow some of these to use on future dresses?"

"Well, this is my only one, and they can be expensive, depending on the color-I think blue's usually the most expensive.  In addition, they'll probably look tacky just sticking out of a dress."

"Trust me, I'll find a way to make them work.  Maybe Twilight can invent some new kind of laser that doesn't stick out, if it's a problem."

"Well, just remember not to get too carried away with it.  Lasers can be dangerous with enough power output-don't want your dress setting itself on fire, do you?"

Rarity shuddered at the thought.

"I'll take your word for it.

Anyway, where were we-oh, yes-the dresses.

As you can see here, the thread thickness must be carefully calibrated around the neck and plot areas so as not to cause chafing.  When I put this one together, I used multiple layers of fibers and created a ripple effect along the middle body, as shown here in a quasi-corset effect.  The hoof-guards are made of polished stone for an elegant, yet rugged feel, and must be perfectly aligned with the wearer's foot to prevent cuts.  Lastly, the top layer is encrusted with multiple gems of varying colors, while managing to remain pliable enough to drape around the lower layers.  When the wearer walks into a room, light reflects off of them in a way such that no part of the room is left dark.  I call it... The Illuminator.  Any questions?"

Marlon was indeed amazed at how much the white creature knew of dress making.  It seemed that every pony adhered to one talent above all else, which corresponded to the pictures on their rears.

"How long does it take you to make a dress, on average?"

"About an hour-they're not that complicated, really.  The complexity is a trick of the eyes."

"I'll have to see that to believe it; I don't know of anybody who can make a dress in an hour.  I don't even know anyone who can make a dress, period!"

"I'll have to reuse Pinkie's suggestion-why don't you host a show telling how I make the dresses, then you'll see!"

"I can probably arrange something."

"Oh, and just one more thing before I go...," said Rarity, poofing the blueprint away.

Marlon felt his hair being pulled up and fluffed about by an invisible force, then pushed down neatly again.  A rectangular, frameless mirror appeared and levitated in front of Marlon's face.  His hair was perfectly arranged, with not a single one sticking up.

"Your hair was beginning to look a little wet with-do you humans sweat?"

"Yes,"

"-with sweat.  I thought it could use a little touching up."

The mirror disappeared and Marlon focused intently on the air, trying to figure out if he had been secretly brainwashed.  He only thought to do this because of the angry comments, which made him slightly nervous about alien brain interference.

"Don't worry-I'm good, people," said Marlon to the camera with a thumbs-up.  "The bad news is that it's time for another commercial break.  Don't worry, we'll be back to finish up soon."

Marlon and the cameramen excused themselves to go to the bathroom.  Guards were still positioned in the hall out of view, in case of screwy business, due to Marlon's secret cautiousness.

"Hey, Princess, why d'ya think he's bein' so nice ta' us?" asked AppleJack.

"Oh, I didn't tell you?  Luna and I sent down a hypnosis blast while we were hovering above their stick-statue.  We had to in order to quiet potential "racism."  The explorers that came here before never knew how to perform mass-hypnosis."

"Do ya think all the humans woulda hated us if ya hadn't?"

"I doubt that.  The explorers' first encounter was a peaceful one.  Then again, there were hostile humans back then.  The problem is:  the humans' weaponry has evolved, and those machines surrounding the statue may have easily killed us.  They burned through the ship's pure Equestrium walls-there's no telling how quickly we would have been annihilated."

"Do ya think it worked on everypo... everyone (I heard the humans say 'everyone.')?"

"I don't know; I've never tried to hypnotize a whole planet before.  I had no reason to test in on the Equestrian people-it never seemed incredibly necessary.  After all, Luna's the only one who usually deals with other minds."

"How 'bout Marlon?  Ya think he would have needed it in th' first place?"

"I certainly hope not.  If he's the humans' leader, the possibility of the spell wearing off on him could be catastrophic for us."

"I kind of like it here; the inhabitants seem to have the potential for friendliness."

"The key word being 'potential,'" Celestia said with a sad tone.

After a solid three minutes of silence, Marlon and the cameramen returned, looking relieved beyond belief.

"Do NOT go in there!" Marlon said with a tired laugh.

"Why would we want to?" said Dashie.

Marlon stopped.  "It was a joke; i'm not actually prohibiting anyone from going to the bathroom."

"Well, why would we anyway?"

"Because you... I'll talk about it later-not much time before air.  Fortunately, the second commercial's always longer."

The cameramen readied themselves for the final third of the week's episode.

Five... four... three... two... one.

"OK, folks, here we are again with the aliens from outer space.  For those of you who've just joined us, I'm interviewing these to show the world what they're really like.  Up next, we have AppleJack, and yes, that is her real name.  Apparently hard cider existed on their planet, too."

Better save Fluttershy for the second-to-last.  Spike can be the final one.

"AppleJack, what do you think of Earth so far?"

"Well, I reckon I'm likin' the grass 'n' trees-reminds me o' Sweet Apple Acres.  That's the farm I lived on."

"Since you're the farmer, tell me:  what do you ponies usually eat?"

"We normally eat vegetables 'n' other plants, like hay, flowers, bread (it's made o' plants), and, ma personal favorite, apples."

"What do you eat when conditions aren't normal?"

"Cakes, pies, salads... ya know-fancy stuff."

"Do you eat meat at all?"

"Ya know, I don't reckon I've ever had it.  Have y'all?" she asked the group behind her, receiving a negative head-shaking response.

"Nope, we don't eat meat.  We're herbivores, ya know?"

"Well, you'll be happy to know that all of those things exist on Earth, too-you'll love our food.  Before you try it, though, you've gotta let us know if anything's toxic to you."

"Ain't nothin' ma stomach can't handle-at least I don't think."

"Well, it's good to double-check.  Maybe Twilight can show you a book of what's toxic to you, eh?"

"Don't worry-I have four books on pony anatomy-it should be a snap," piped in Twilight.

"I'm guessing you farm apples on your home planet, judging by your name.  Do you just sell them whole or make stuff with them?"

"Well, our specialty's apple cider, but apple fritters, pies, dumplin's, cobblers, tarts, sauces, cakes, strudels, crumbles, and such are also on the list."

Any shrimp recipes there, Bubba?

"Does your cider have alcohol in it, just out of curiosity?"

"Wha'd'ya mean?"

"Does it do any of the following:  foam, freeze, inebriate, or taste strongly?"

"Yes, no, yes, and yes.  Why d'ya ask?"

"I said 'out of curiosity,' but I'll elaborate:  on Earth, we have something referred to as 'hard cider,' that has the aforementioned characteristics.  Sometimes we call it... 'applejack.'"

"Why d'ya call it that?"

"Well, it's like apple cider that's been jacked up with alcohol, ya see?"

"Alca-wuh?"

"Alcohol's a chemical in beer, wine, scotch, vodka, rum, whiskey, rye..."

Singin' 'this'll be the day that I die...'

Marlon occasionally imagined song lyrics in his head to make conversations more interesting.

"...and other liquors of the sort.  It does all that stuff I just mentioned."

"So that's how my parents got my name...," she said to herself thoughtfully.  "Musta been one o' those one-in-a-billion coincidences that we got the same word for it.  Musta been another'un that we both got apples on our planets."

"Indeed.  In fact, I'm a big fan of apples, you know-love me some apple pie."

"Ooh!  Maybe I can make one fer ya'."

"Maybe.  Just be sure that your recipe isn't toxic to humans."

"I can compare it against one'a yers if ya'd like."

"OK, then.  Quick question:  where'd you get that hat?"

"This?  I've had the thing since i was a li'l'un.  I just wear it 'cus it protects ma head from the sun-gets all burned,ya know."

She lifted off her hat, revealing a head of smooth, blond hair, slightly lighter than Marlon's, then replaced it.

"B'sides, it's nice'n comfy."

"Here's another one-in-a-billion coincidence for you:  we have hats like that on Earth, too."

"What is it with all these coincidences?  Next you'll be tellin' me ya got farms that look like ours, too!"

"What do your farms look like?"

AppleJack removed her hat again, pulling a small picture from its depths.

"I keep this picture in here so I can remember my home when I'm away."

She handed the picture to Marlon, who was amazed at what he held.

It was a sepia photograph of a large barn with nearby apple-bearing trees and wide fields.  The photo was on what appeared to be a Polaroid sheet.

"How did you make this picture?"

"With my family's old camera, or as ma granny likes t'call it, 'picture box.'"

Marlon stared wide-eyed at the photo, perplexed that the aliens had mastered space travel, but not color photography.

"Are all your pictures in sepia?"

"Naw.  Just a few decades ago we learned how to make 'em in color.  I just use ol' technology 'cus it's a family tradition."

That old time technol'gy is good enough for me....

"Well, your photo technology is pretty similar to ours, too-there's another coincidence," said Marlon, handing back the photo.  "I think you'll like it here juuuust fine.  Is there anything else about you I should know?"

"I reckon that's it.  Thanks fer teachin' me somethin' today; seems like Earth's got all the comforts a'home.  Good to meet somepo-one who appreciates apples."

She shook Marlon's hand and walked back.

"Our last pony guest is Fluttershy, and she's a real sweetie.  Just don't give her a hard time, OK?  Her name had the word 'shy' in it, after all."

Fluttershy stared at Marlon nervously as he calmly motioned for her to approach.  She walked slowly, and her expression made her fear known to the world.

"So, Fluttershy, what's your story?  Why did your parents give you a name with the word 'shy'in it?"

"Um... my parents told me I was always frightened of everything since the day I was born-that's when they named me."

She spoke in a mumble that would have been completely inaudible had it not been for Marlon's shirt-mic, which had had its gain increased for just such an occasion.  She tried to avoid eye contact, brushing a front hoof lightly against the ground.

"Um...."

As Fluttershy saw the cameras in their switched-on glory, she remembered that the planet was now viewing her and that the cameras were not, in fact, her friends.  With a small squeak, she commenced weeping like a woman possibly in her twenties.  Tears streamed down her face, some hitting the floor, but Marlon didn't care about the damp carpeting.  He only wanted to comfort the creature.

Please fix my mom's brain!

"Aw, there, there.  Nobody's gonna hurt ya," he said as he pulled her close to his chest in an embrace of her neck and head.  She held herself there, drenching Marlon's shirt, occasionally interrupting the sobs with squeaks; it was ironically the most adorable thing Marlon had ever seen.

He gently rubbed her hair and neck in a circular motion, as his mother did when he was young to calm him down.  Fortunately, his mind was too occupied with Fluttershy to actively remember his mother; otherwise, he would never have thought of the therapeutic motion.

"It's OK; let it out," he said sympathetically.  She took his advice and increased her volume slightly; Marlon knew that this would run her dry more quickly, and would ironically increase her subconscious comfort with his presence.  She then wrapped her front legs around his chest to press herself against him, literally crying on his shoulder, her head next to his.  He continued the circling motion while occasionally softly uttering things such as:  "Aww... there there," "It's OK-everything's OK," and "Ssshhhh. Don't worry-nobody's gonna hurt ya."

The fact that the other aliens were not attempting to console Fluttershy was slightly odd to Marlon, but he figured that they knew he had the situation under control.  He held up an index finger to the camera to indicate that he would need a minute.

Indeed; the waterworks continued for at least five minutes, but Marlon cut to commercial after the first two.

"Uh, folks, we're having some technical difficulties here.  Watch some commercials until we get this sorted out, OK?"

Some crew members had been using their phones to record the whole ordeal.  Marlon could imagine the YouTube videos:  "Fluttershy cries while I play unfitting music" and "Fluttershy cries for ten hours straight," with a continued loop of the footage.

"Does she always do this?" Marlon whispered to Celestia, hoping the crying would keep the yellow alien out of earshot.

ONLY IN FRONT OF LARGE CROWDS

Celestia said nothing, but Marlon heard her voice clearly as if it emanated from his inner ears.

Marlon continued circling, but was now more focused on Celestia than Fluttershy.

"D-did you say anything?" he whispered under his breath.

NOT AUDIBLY.  I HAVE THE POWER OF TELEPATHY, BUT YOU MIGHT NOT WANT TO LET THIS ON TO YOUR HUMAN FRIENDS-THEY MIGHT THINK I'M CONTROLLING YOUR MIND.

As if the magic hair restyling wasn't enough....

WELL, THAT WASN'T INFLUENCING THE INSIDE OF YOUR HEAD-ONLY THE OUTSIDE.

"Can you read my thoughts, too?" he "said" by barely moving his lips, hoping she could read them.

YES, AND YOUR MIND IS VERY ACTIVE, COMPARED TO SOME OF THE OTHERS I'VE HEARD.

Marlon squinted at Celestia to be sure he wasn't just imagining things.  He decided to think of obscure questions in order to test the telepathy powers.

How does your mane move without wind?

IT'S AN INHERITED GENE FROM MY MOTHER.  MY SISTER AND I ARE THE ONLY ONES I KNOW OF WITH THIS CONDITION.

What is your favorite color?

INFARED-I AM THE ONLY EQUESTRIAN WHO CAN SEE IT.

Marlon thought of the ultimate question-something he could never guess in a million years....

How do you aliens reproduce?

SEXUALLY

You have no genitalia.

OUR GENITALS AND EXCRETORY SPHINCTERS ARE ACTUALLY STORED INSIDE OF A FORM-FITTING SKIN PIECE TO PREVENT ACCIDENTAL PENETRATION BY SITTING ON ROUGH SURFACES.  BOTH APPEAR WHEN A PONY EITHER MUST DEFECATE, URINATE, OR IS SEXUALLY AROUSED-THE SKIN IS FOLDED DOWN AND AROUND THE UNDERBELLY BETWEEN THE LEGS BY A SIMPLE MUSCLE MOVEMENT, AND BLENDS IN WITH THE REST OF THE PONY'S SKIN AS IF IT WERE NEVER THERE.  FROM THERE, A MALE'S PE-

OK, OK, I think I get it-maybe we should talk about this some other time, ya know-in case I accidentally make weird facial expressions at the thought of... ya know... alien sex.  Then the cameramen may know something's going on.

I UNDERSTAND.

Why are you just telling me you can do this now?  Why didn't you bring it up earlier?

YOU DIDN'T HAVE ANY CONVERSATIONS THAT NEEDED TO BE HIDDEN FOR FEAR OF DISTURBING OTHERS THEN.  IT'S NOT WISE TO DISTURB FLUTTERSHY WHEN SHE'S CRYING; SHE'LL FEEL MORE EMBARRASSED AND KEEP GOING.

What's her record here?

14.3 MINUTES.

"Hey, Fluttershy, could you maybe try to calm down a little?  I just wanna talk to you, OK?" Marlon said quietly to the yellow pony.

Fortunately, she was easing up; her sobs were accompanied by less and less water.  She finally reduced to sniffling with occasional squeaks, then hugged him harder.

"I-I'm s-sorry.  I get n-nervous around crowds."

"It's OK-I understand.  Are you still too scared to do the interview?"

"Please don't make me do it again," she whispered.  "Can you just tell them what I told you about me earlier, if that's OK?"

"Sure-I'll do that.

Can we take it off commercial?"

The cameraman began to count down from ten with his fingers.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," Marlon said as he hugged her back hard.

When Marlon finally looked up, the red "on air" light was shining on the camera.

"You might wanna go back, OK?" said Marlon, not letting on that the camera was functional again.

As she moved back, Marlon explained the situation to the camera.

"Sorry 'bout that folks-I needed to calm Fluttershy down a little-she gets nervous in front of cameras.  I'll just tell you what she said to me in the preliminary interview:  she loves animals (not to eat), and... that's about it.  I'm not sure how many animals they had on their home planet that don't exist here, but hopefully she can make do with what we have here.  What would you expect from somebody like that, eh?"

"OK folks-we have one last interviewee.  See that purple thing on the side of the couch?  Well, your eyes haven't deceived you, good people-he's a dragon.  Seriously-first unicorns, then pegasi, then dragons!  This is not what I had in mind when I woke up this morning!

How do you do, li'l guy?" said Marlon to the apparently sleeping dragon.

"Whuh?  Is that my cue?" the beast said, yawning.  "Oh!  OK!" he stood up and shook Marlon's hand with his sharp, clawed hand.

"This is the aptly named Spike and....  I'm sorry, what the heck are you doing here?  What do you have in common with the rest of the ponies?"

"I'm Twilight's personal assistant.  I keep tabs on her house while she's away, help her organize schedules, and send and receive messages from the princess."

"Receive?  Can't Twilight just check her mailbox?"

"Usually, messages need to be sent quickly, so I have to use my only known magic power for it."

"What about that translation stuff?"

"Actually yeah, I can do that one, but I wasn't born with it.  Twilight did some weird DNA modification on me when I was little, and now I hear you and you hear me.  Pretty cool, huh?"

"How does the first magic power work, exactly?"

"If you have a piece of paper and a pen, I'll show you."

Marlon went to his desk and retrieved a piece of paper and his pen.  When he returned, Spike wrote "Hello," with remarkable penmanship.  He walked as far from Celestia as the cameras would allow, then began.

"I'm gonna stand over here so you can see the process better."  He rolled up the paper, held it in front of his face, and blew green fire at it, causing it to convert into green smoke.  The smoke traveled across the room through the air, and the paper appeared, unraveled, and floated in front of Celestia.

"It says, 'hello," she said.  She pulled the pen away from Spike's hand with a glow of her horn, and began to write a reply by levitating the pen.  The paper disappeared  as Celestia put the pen back on Marlon's desk.  Spike let out a large belch, expelling the rolled-up paper cleanly from his throat, unraveled it, and read:  "hello again."

"That's amazing!" said Marlon.  How does that work?"

"I convert the paper to a gaseous state with my fire-breath, which is automatically transferred to Celestia with a DNA lock.  Then, she just teleports her reply to my belly."

"I need to introduce them to e-mail," said Marlon to the camera.  "Were you the only dragon on Equestria?"

"No-just the only one that lived in Ponyville.  The rest of them lived in their own nomadic societies."

"Spike's still a baby dragon, and they age much more slowly than ponies-each hundred years for them is one year to us, but the process can be accelerated by greed; he's currently 13 years old."

"Greed?  Why?"

"It's a complicated psychosomatic process, but as a dragon gives himself in to greedy habits, his cells multiply exponentially more rapidly than they would otherwise.  Once, Spike started stealing things from every pony in our town-grew to a monstrous height, too.  He eventually was brought back down to size by-"

"Aw, will you cut it out?  You bring that story up every time we have company!  Not something I'm proud of, either!"

"Sorry, Spike.

He just doesn't want me to tell you how he changed back to his original size," Twilight whispered to Marlon, lifting her hoof so Spike presumably would not be able to see her mouth."

"Is it something embarrassing?" Marlon whispered back.

"Seriously?  I'm not deaf; I can hear every word you're saying!" Spike interjected.

"I'll tell you later," whispered Twilight back to Marlon.

"Back to the original subject:  why is it that aliens always live longer than humans?  It's like that in most alien stories I know.  Seriously, you guys are starting to make me feel inferior."

"Well, you're almost twice my height-seems pretty superior to me," said Spike.

"But I don't breathe fire or do magic, or fly, or-hey, wait a minute!  I forgot to show how you pegasi fly!" he suddenly said to Dashie.

"Bad idea, Rich.  Generates a lotta wind, ya know?  It'd blast your papers around pretty good."

A second of silence...

"Never mind, then."

"I'm just tryin' to look out for ya," she said.

"Thanks, Dashie.

So!  How did you become Twilight's assistant?"

"Long story, but I'll give you the short version:  Twilight hatched me from an egg during her school's magic entrance exam.  She decided to keep me.  End of story."

"That's a weird entrance exam...."

If somebody told me to magically hatch a chicken egg, I'd smash it and say, "It was gonna be food either way.  I just chose the more humane option!

"...time acceleration?"

"It's a rough one, I know, but I had studied it since I was able to read.  Actually, the only way I was able to pull it off was the blast of energy from the sonic rainboom Dash created, which is an immense blast of energy released when she reaches a certain flight speed and breaks the barrier of sound, creating a brilliant rainbow effect."

"What the...?  You never told me you could do that," said Marlon to Dashie.

"I didn't think it was really important for you to know-it's a pretty hard move to pull off, too."

"Now I'm interested.  Is your sound barrier the same as ours?"

"Ours is about seven-hundred something miles an hour, but your air pressure feels pretty similar."

"How do you know what a mile is?"

"Translation spell also converts measurements to your units."

"Amazing...  In fact, our units are-"

A rock remix of "Hail to the Chief" played from background speakers, the clean guitar performing a beautiful melody.

"Well, folks," said Marlon to the camera.  "The commercial time messed us up a little, and the music means we're out of time for today.  Sorry we couldn't get Luna on here, but we probably wouldn't have had much time with her anyway.  Thank you for joining me for this special episode of "D.C. Unveiled," where I made contact with aliens and lived to tell the tale!  Until next week, this is Richard Marlon, Celestia, AppleJack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Twilight Sparkle, and Spike wishing you people of Earth a good night!"

Marlon motioned to all the aliens at once with a sideways arm as he said this, then waved the camera goodbye.  The credits rolled as the cameraman clenched his fist to signal that the show was over.

"Alright you guys, that was great!  I think we really made an impression today!"

As Marlon stood up, he realized that his back was still drenched with Fluttershy's tears.

"I'm sorry," Fluttershy said quietly.

"Aw, c'mon.  It's OK.  I completely understand-look, it's my fault for putting you on there with such short notice.  I probably should have recorded an interview with you so that you wouldn't have to go straight on TV.  I'm the sorry one here," he said as they embraced in consolation.

"Now!  I need to square away some sleeping arrangements for you-you'll need good rest after that long trip!"

Marlon shook the American cameraman's hand as he walked into the hall.

"I like this guy!" piped in Pinkie.