/mlp/AiE

>The sun streams in through a window and you toss a pillow over your face.

>You sigh contentedly.

>And then your cell phone alarm goes off.  Even after all this time, you still haven't chucked your worthless brick of a phone or bought a real alarm clock or flashlight.

>You grumble and reach over to shut it off, fumbling for the right buttons and knocking it to the floor.  The sound stops.

>Shit.

>You roll out of bed and drop to the floor to inspect the damage.

>The thing still looks functional.  Displaying the time like a boss, responding to buttons,

>...having two bars of signal?

 

>The fuck?

 

>Thinking it must be a mistake, you try to make a call.

>It doesn't go through.

>You try to send a text, and it doesn't go through.

>You crack open the ancient and decrepit web browser, and google loads.

>You immediately dive for your email to let people know you're alive, sweating profusely at the implications of cross-world communication and how famous you'll be.

>It fails to load.

>You check wikipedia.

>It's good!

>You scramble for a high-visibility page and edit in your plea for help, but are swiftly deleted as vandalism.

>You try for Facebook, but it fails.

>You pause for a moment.

>4chan.org

>...

>...

>Success.

 

>Fucking.

>Jackpot.

 

>Temporarily forgoing the sane options, you snap a picture of the view from your window and hop over to /mlp/.

>You post the image, along with "U jelly?" and smirk to yourself.

>Congratulations.  You are the cleverest and the best.

>You decide to make actual contact later, after you've planned out how to get rich off of this.

>For now, you'll just futz around here and there while you get your ducks in a row.

>You slip the phone into your pocket and head to Sugarcube Corner for some celebratory breakfast pastries.

>When you sit down at your table, you pull the phone out to snap a picture of your retardedly delicious food.

 

>Your thread is full of responses about having seen a few pixels.

>You shrug and post anew, this time jamming an upturned thumb into the shot.

>You proceed to devour the goods with great haste, then get up to go see what Dash is up to.

 

>She doesn't seem to be around.

>Lame.

>You snap some more pictures around town and even get a few ponies to take shots for you, posing triumphantly in a variety of locations.

 

>Every last image is shot down as "fake and gay".

 

>Shit, this might be harder than you thought.

 

>Two weeks later...

 

>You've given up.  You're relatively happy here, and 4chan is full of assholes, and wikipedia is full of anal fuckwits, and you're pretty sure the entire internet is just terrible.

>You're in the park tossing a ball back and forth with Dash.

>She throws a long one and you run for it, but you smack into a tree.

>You fall over and rub your head.

 

>Dash is already there, lending a hoof to help you up.

>She makes a confused face and looks down at your phone.

>A picture of Applejack's apple stall is showing.

>"What's this?"

 

>"Oh, nothing.  Just trying to convince some assholes I'm in Equestria."

 

>"And they don't believe the pictures?"

 

>"Nope."

 

>"...Huh."

>She carefully nudges the buttons with the edge of a hoof, trying to navigate somewhere, and winds up in an AiE thread.

>Her eyes scan the page for a minute.

>"Mind if I borrow this?"

 

>You give an exaggerated groan.

>"But then how will I wake up in the morning?"

 

>She rolls her eyes at you.

 

>You stick out your tongue.

 

>"So can I?"

 

>"Sure, I guess."

 

>Two weeks later...

 

>"So Anon, have you seen these AiE threads?"

 

>"Yeah, what about 'em?  There's some shitty wish fulfillment, a few grand epics, and way too much clop."

 

>"I kinda like some of this junk.  The idea that FLUTTERSHY, of all ponies, could actually be that aggressive... it's hilarious!"

 

>"Really?  Huh.  I dunno, I never really got into any of that.  If you say there's some good stuff in there, maybe I'll have to try.  Which authors don't suck?"

 

>She names a few and hands you the phone.

>Wow, look at that.  Pastebin works, and so do the archives.

>Convenient.

 

>You put it in your pocket and go about your day.

>That night, you push the cheap alarm clock you bought off of your bedside table and lovingly return your phone to its rightful place.

>You roll over to go to sleep, but pause.

>You decide to read a few of these supposedly good stories.

 

>You're surprised to find there's actually some decent stuff here.

>Most of the authors Dash recommended are pretty talented.

>But then you get to one of them that really rubs you the wrong way.

>Rustles your jimmies, you might say.

 

>Every story is the same damn thing.

>Dash has obvious romantic feelings for Anon, Anon's a stupid piece of shit, Dash eventually confesses, they make out, fade to black, cue credits.

>It's always SO BLATANT that nobody could possibly be as blind and stupid as Anon.

>You grumble a few more times, read something by a different author to cleanse your palate, and go to bed.

 

>You and Dash meet up in town, and Dash looks anxious about something.

>"So Anon, did you get a chance to read any of those stories?"

 

>"Yeah, I read quite a few, actually."

 

>She's starting to sweat a little.

>"Did you like any of them?"

 

>You nod.

>"Surprisingly, yeah.  Almost all of 'em."

 

>She looks excited.

>"Really?"

 

>"Pretty much everything except for one particular author.  I don't know what you see in their work."

 

>Her ears droop.

>"Oh... which one?"

 

>You pull out the phone and proceed to give her a lecture on why those stories are bad and the author should feel bad.

 

>She looks like she's got something in her eye and she hastily makes an excuse to be somewhere else.

>She flies off.

 

>The next day, she seems down.

>You try to strike up conversation, but she seems mostly lost in thought.

>Occasionally, you hear her mumble some part of what you said the other day.

 

>Eventually, Twilight finds out about your wonderphone and you lose it temporarily.  Again.

>You frown as you shove the alarm clock back into place.

 

>A few days after that, Twilight gathers the whole town with exciting news.

>She's managed to reproduce the internet connectivity of your phone in a convenient form that can be distributed to everyp0ny.

>The internet is PROBABLY going to destroy Equestria, but at least it'll be a hoot to watch.

 

>You keep an eye on /mlp/ and watch the ensuing shitstorm.

>The AiE thread is surprisingly quiet, but you do notice a few posts by that really shitty author.

>Somehow, they're getting even shittier.

>The Anon becomes ten times as oblivious, and you actually start compulsively hate-reading these stories, hoping he dies.

>Preferably in a fire.

 

>How could he do that to Dash?  She's awesome!

>You'd never do that.

>You'd like to say you'd never fuck a pony either, but hey - when in Rome...

 

>You start responding to these stories telling the author, in no uncertain terms, that they are a steaming pile of dicks and dead babies.

>The author calls you stupid.

>Not even cleverly, either.  Just flat "stupid" with no decoration.

>What a piece of shit.

 

>Oh look, another shitty story.

>This time it's about... huh.

>It's at least a unique premise.

>It's about an Anon who gets his internet back.

>And then Dash learns about AiE and starts secretly writing them, hoping that'll do the trick, but gog dizzamn this Anon is thickheaded.

 

>Let that sink in for a minute.

>You really are pretty freakin' thick, you know that?

>...

 

>Yes Anon, I'm talking to you.