A well groomed but skinny 16 year old purple unicorn named Dinky Dew currently in the prime of her life, pulled back from peering over the edge of the window to a foal’s clubhouse that two teenage ponies continued to regularly make use of for some reason. “Don’t you dare stop” she mouthed with a flabbergasted look of disgust. Inside, Apple Bloom was busily impregnating Scootaloo. Something about “didn’t know what Ah was doin’” drifted through the walls, only further strengthening the blonde-haired purple unicorn’s resolve. With her estrus consuming her, Dinky hungered to just run in there and impale herself on that eternally untiring boy pole, but alas she could not indulge in her body’s burning need.
“For you see,” she explained to herself, “It is not my fetish.”
With awkward exchanges continuing unaware in the clubhouse, Dinky just gently tip toed down the ramp, and ran to the center of the wherever the hell this clubhouse was, possibly even in an apple orchard, it really wasn’t specified. There, she called on all the arcane powers at her command, all the eldritch sorcery that can be called to command by a hormonal teenage girl. The wind picked up and arcs of light spun around her as a black aura covered in crackling lightning grew from her horn.
“Oh great Spirits of Undone Pasts, I beseech thee!” she called out in the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Put an end to this mockery of life and drama! I sacrifice the convenience of eternal ejaculations to grant me this boon! Hear me now, Gods of Retcon! Answer my call!”
“What the hay is goin’ on out there?” Apple Bloom said poking her head out, but the unicorn in question was already engulfed in a maelstrom of swirling darkness and light.
“Holy bucking shit!” Scootaloo exclaimed beside her totally forgetting her own sticky tail.
“We gotta get Princess Twilight!” Apple Bloom shouted in the howling winds. “Your real parents who really exist will know where she is!” The two ran off on hoof since Scootaloo didn’t have her scooter for some reason, a potentially fatal mistake when time was of the essence, but not nearly their worst mistake in this story.
“I present to you the evidence of lives wronged!” Dinky continued to call out to nothing at all, “My apprenticeship denied for six years due to us all still attending grade school for some reason! Scootaloo’s unearthly knowledge of semenal properties only revealed at the moment it would become awkward else not to do so! Boys transferring during the last two weeks of school instead of during the next year! Pink Pony Princesses invoked without reason! Wing boners assumed!”
“I call upon the One True map of Ponyville, in which Fluttershy’s cottage is not between the school and the Cutie Mark Crusader clubhouse, in which the clubhouse is up the hill and in view of the school from the top of the tallest tree, in which the nearest secluded untended forest from which a babbling brook would emerge is either directly to the north or opposite Ponyville from Sweet Apple Acres!”
“I invoke the terrible power of the most turgid of barriers, the Fifth Wall,” she intoned, rising off the earth from the sheer forces held in her arcane grasp.
Princess Twilight descended from the sky, her princess horn glowing with all the powers of Celestia, Luna, and some pink princess, with copious star patterns all over her legs like a foal with their very first sticker book and a ridiculously long mane with not three, but four colors, all clashing horribly with the addition, whose princess wings had stripes in them with magical purple tips. Dinky turned her head up to face the approaching hurricane of magic and friendship, eyes glowing with power, and merely uttered two disapproving, contemptuous words:
The fifth wall fell on top of the princess and a giant otherwordly finger hit a button on an old classic cassette deck causing everything to flicker and spin in reverse. Then the tape was removed and repeatedly smashed with a sledgehammer, then kicked off a cliff into a pit of fire where it was melted and reforged, a smiling sun sticker gently lovingly applied to its name plate as it is returned to the player, all of existence reduced to nothing but a glowing rectangle of limitless possibility marked “Next Chapter.”