>You are Funkanonymous.
>Back on Earth you had made it your mission to share the fresh cosmic groove that was funk.
>You and your band had started a truly righteous funk revival.
>Then came the night that changed everything. 
>You had given the greatest concert in the history of the world.
>Truly, the mighty forces of rhythm and rhyme had chosen you as their vessel.
>But that sublime show had come at a cost.
>You grooved too hard.
>The wheels in the sky had turned that night...
>And the next thing you knew you were surfing the star-stream.
>When you woke up you found yourself in a strange land full of candy coated ponies.
>And dig it: they could talk.

>You've always been pretty chill, so you took the situation in stride.
>You had scoped the scene and figured out how to support yourself.
>But as you soon found out, there was one crucial thing missing from this sweet world.
>These ponies didn't know how to groove.
>They didn't know how to jive.
>It was up to you to bring them to the gospel of funk.

>Getting a new band together wasn't really that hard.
>You had worked your way into the jazz scene in the capital, Canterlot.
>There were some pretty hep cats making great music there.
>Once you showed them the basics of Rhythm and Blues you had gotten yourself quite a few musicians that wanted to collaborate.

>Now the time had come to once again start spreading the funk

*****

>Things weren't going very well.

>Your first tour had hit all the major cities between Canterlot and Manehatten.

>The critics had savaged your performances and your sponsor had pulled a lot of advertising as a result.
>The crowds had been getting smaller and smaller.
>Only two things kept you going: your supreme faith in funk, and the small groups of die-hard colts and fillies that latched on to your music like it was life itself.

>Now you had come to the last stop on your tour. 
>A little town off the beaten track called Hollow Shades.

>You were determined to make this show work no matter what.
>Spending some of your own money, you printed a stack of posters promising "THE SHOW TO END ALL SHOWS". 
>Then you and your crew had spent all day handing them out to anyone who would take them.
>The thing about these ponies is that they were were some seriously freaky cats.

>They looked like Dracula had given them a makeover.
>You just hoped that they'd be a little more receptive to your art.

>As night began to fall you had one more trick up your sleeve. 
>You and your band gathered at the far end of the village.
>Getting into a New Orleans style parade formation you nodded to your bassist and drummers.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJDPz4guxOQ
>After they started a righteous rhythm and bass line you all started marching. 

>As you jumped and jived your way through the main street you began to get followers.
>Curious ponies who couldn't help but be drawn to your righteous sound.

>When you finally entered the fair grounds you must've had the whole village on your heels.
>Your group stomped onto the stage and moved to their positions.
>When your marching anthem ended you didn't even stop.

>The band just went into a 4 bar vamp and you grabbed the mic.
"Are you cats ready to GROOVE?"
>Everyone cheered.
>"Yeah!"
>Not loud enough.
"I said are you cats ready to FUNK. IT. UP?!"
>This time the audience was deafening.
>"YEAHHH!!!"

"Ahhhh, yeah. Ladies and gentleponies, the Canterlot Funk Association is here to take you on a journey. 
I am Funkanonymous and I will be your guide though time and space. 
And our destination is a place... called... Funk!"

>As you went into your next song you could feel that this show was going to be different.
>The air was electric.
>These little bat ponies were bouncing and swaying to every beat.
>They were grooving to every sound.
>It's like they had the rhythm in their veins.

>As you went though your set the night just kept building and building.
>You couldn't help but feel like you were some kind of prophet leading these crazy ponies to a promised land of universal vibes.
>It wasn't just you. 
>Every member of your band was a slave to the groove.
>By the end of it you didn't even know what words were coming out of your mouth.

>And- and were your band member's instruments glowing?
>All around you bat ponies were flying up in the air.
>They were glowing too somehow.
>The whole place was alive with cosmic energy.

>You finally reached your last song and as it hit its peak the funk could no longer be contained.
>All the energy in the place spiraled up into the sky.
>It was like the Milky Way had come down to rest on your show.

>You felt the cosmic force start to lift you into the sky.
>The chariot of groove was carrying you away.

>All the bat ponies cheered.
>Your band mates looked a little confused but they were pros and kept on playing.

>As you ascended to the sky you gave the crowd one last charge.

"Remember the funk that you have heard here tonight. 
Groove it on out and it'll be alright.
If you let it die, well that would be most tragic.
Remember little ponies, the Funk Is MAGIC!"

>Then the star-stream swallowed you up and once again you were a traveler on the cosmic highways.
>You were sad to leave, but you knew those hep little bats would keep on spreading the groove.
>Your work there was done.

>Now it was time to take the funk elsewhere.

>Funky fly end.