Day 3
>Needless to say, the morning after was less than pleasant.
>Skullcrushing hangover mixed with Twilight’s bitching about passing out drunk in front of Applejack’s house made you only able to groan in response to every rhetorical question and statistic this teetotaller spouted out.
>Applejack thought it was hilarious and she knew how nights went with Rainbow Dash, so she hoisted your ass in a cart and brought you to Twilight’s place.
>After promising to make it up to her and saying goodbye do Dash, you made it into the house, where you now sit in front of Twilight, trying to contain the hangover of the gods.
>Eventually, you get sick of this.
>”Twilight, unless you have something important to say or know how to cure my hangover, please feel free to SHUT UP.”
>Having derailed her train of thought, you are bought a few precious moments of silence.
>But only a few
>She eventually remember what she was originally going to tell you: since she cannot find a single reference to a “Human” in her archive, she and her five friends are taking you to meet her mentor, Princess Celestia.
>A princess? You groan audibly at this development.
>If meeting a princess here is like anything you’ve seen on tv, there’s going to be a lot of fanfare for a spoiled cunt with too much money, time and power and too little sense.
>Seemingly able to read your mind, Twilight speaks up, “Oh don’t worry, she’s really nice and understanding. Besides, if anyone knows anything about humans, it’s her.”
>Still unconvinced, you ask for your dress blues as you head upstairs and take a cold shower to stymie the pounding in your head.
>After pulling on your dress blues, you take a look in the mirror.
>girlsgocrazyforasharpdressedman.jpg
>Chuckle to yourself
 
>Although sceptical about the aerodynamic attributes and flight capabilities of a chariot, you eventually settle down and chat with Rarity, who is utterly enamored with your Uniform.
>”It’s just our standard dress uniform, it’s not that special.”
>”Don’t sell yourself short, darling, you look absolutely divine!”
>”I’m sure you say that to all the handsome stallions.”
>She looks at you with a little shock at this comment.
>”Kidding, kidding.”
>Hardly missing a beat she continues regaling you about the inherent style in your uniform and how you, “Simply must come model some clothes for me soon!”
>You agree, seeing as you only brought your dress uniform and BDU’s, and it’ll be good to get some custom tailored clothes.
>You eventually reach “Canterlot”, and are immediately awed by one of the most magnificent castles you have ever seen.
>You’d seen castles when you were stationed in Stuttgart, but this easily dwarfs them all.
>Your awe only grows when you and the ponies are led inside by an honor guard of golden armoured royal guard.
>You look up at the flying buttresses and crenallated arches and breathe a quiet, “Wow.”
>Soon you are standing before a white horse on a throne, with both the wings of a Pegasus and the horn of unicorn.
>Another, smaller horse with both horn and wings as well, except midnight blue, sits in a lower throne to her right. Twilight did say Celestia’s sister Luna might be present. That must be her
>”Anon,” she melodiously calls, “such a delight to finally meet you.”
>You give her a crisp salute.
>She nods slightly in return, and continues, “We have not had a human in Equestria before, Anon. Your presence was most unexpected.”
>”To be frank, your highness, it came as a shock to me too.”
>You continue speaking with Celestia, telling of how your first two days were in Equestria. The shock, accidently shooting Fluttershy, the party, and everything else. Minus your drunken exploits with Dash, of course.
>She smiles knowingly at this and then speaks, “You seem to be enjoying your time here Anon, would you like to stay?”
>”In Equestria? I didn’t realize I had a choice.”
>”I do not know if I can send you back, but we can try to do so.”
>”I don’t want to leave.”
>Celestia takes this development in stride, “Why is that, dear Anon?”
>”Where I’m from, there is innumerable suffering. People hate each other because of what they look like, children starve on one street while others have more than they could ever want a few blocks down. I don’t see that here. Everyone’s happy. I’ve only been here a few days, but I feel like... like I’m welcome.”
>Celestia smiles at this. “While I can’t say that this world is as perfect as you make it out to be, Anon, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
>Your heart lifts at this news.
>”We would like you to stay a while in Canterlot awhile we work out where you are going to live and everything.”
>You salute her
>”Thank you”
>It’s not like anyone will miss you back home.
 
>With hot food in your belly, a rousing game of poker after dinner (damn Applejack can bluff) and a few drinks in your gut, you settle in your private room.
>Silk sheets, down pillows and marbles floors
>Can life get better? I submit that it cannot!
>Settle in
>You may just enjoy a life here.
>You drift peacefully off to sleep...
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
>”He’s lost a lot of blood.”
>”He’s not dead yet, he can make it!”
>”The area’s too hot to send a chopper in and we can’t fix this in the field.”
>“Goddammit...”
>”Just go in there and talk with him. Make him comfortable. Make this easy for him.”
>”How much time does he got?”
>“No more than half an hour.”
>You wipe your sweat drenched face in your hands out of depression. Mark Hamilton, your squadmate, lies on a simple stretcher in a broken down house in the middle of Butt Fuck, Afghanistan.
>You’ve been through thick and thin with him. Through mortar barrages and ambushes, IED’s and suicide bombers, he’s had your back since day one.
>And now he’s bleeding out from a wound he got from a grenade trap when he charged into a building looking for cover from a mortar strike.
>You walk into the room where Mark is laying on a stretcher; he’s got his eyes closed, maybe he’s already gone.
>”...Hey anon.”
>The raspy whisper grabs your attention immediately.
>”Mark, hey bro, how ya doing?” It sounds stupid, but you don’t know what else to say.
>”I’m dying. How’re you?”
>”You’re not gonna die, Mark.”
>”Yeah I am. I heard  the doc say so when he was talking to you.”
>You sit there in silence for what seems like hours, just not knowing what to say.
>”Hey Anon?”
>”Yeah?”
>”Still got those cards? Let’s play a hand. I still owe you $20 after all. Hate to leave this world owing ya money.”
>You smile weakly at this and pull out a deck of well-worn playing cards.
>You shuffle and deal him and you out 5 cards.
>The hand plays out, you’ve got a full house.
>”Alright stud, whatcha got?”
>Silence
>”Mark?”
>”You know how they saw you see a light when you die, Anon?”
>”Yeah?”
>”They’re wrong. I can’t see a damn thing...”
>Oh no
>”Mark. Mark!”
>And he’s gone.
>Tears stream down your grime covered face as hug him, something you could never bring yourself to do when he was alive.
>After a short while, you let him go, and gently lay him back down on the stretcher.
>Curiosity trumps sadness for a moment and you see what hand he had.
>Royal flush in spades
>You break down at this.
>”You lucky son of a bitch...”