"Well, I guess this is it..." I mutter to myself as I stand at the edge ofGhastly Gorge, looking down at the sheer precipice below me. It's time's like this I'd wished I'd had a cigarette; in a past life I'd always commemorate pivotal moments with a celebratory--or desultory--stick of cancer. But whaddaya know? Tobacco doesn't grow in Equestria, the closest thing to it tastses like dried dill leaves, and I hate dill.
 
Fucking Equestria, fucking ponies. I really screwed the pooch coming here.
 
I pull the windbreaker closer around my shoulders and grumble. Even as I'm about to punch my last timecard and check out of this world I have to be contrary. Terra Firma was no Eden, but this place just seems so... so gray all the time. Maybe it's because I'm not a part of any special clique, and none of the little pastel shits want anything to do with me. But now I just can't handle the loneliness any longer. It's time to feel what birds feel like, for a few seconds, until I'm one with the Ground.
 
I didn't leave a note, who would read it anyway?
 
"Okay, Anon. Don't be a pussy; it's time... heh..." I stifle a chuckle.
 
"It's time for your big finish."
 
I close my eyes: now there's nothing but darkness and a stiff breeze on my cheek. These fucking lilac- and turquoise-colored quadrupeds can keep their miserable, misanthropic fucking Shangri-la. When I get to Hell--or the equivalent thereof for whatever ponies believe in--I'll tell the Pony-Devil t it was friendship what sent me there. I smile and kick a foot out over what I guess is the ledge, willing myself to take one last step; from this world to the ne-
 
>"Excuse me?"
What now?
 
I open my eyes; the bottom of Ghastly Gorge is a thin brown line encompassing my whole field of view. And some pony. Some shrill, imperious-sounding pony, is delaying my trip. I turn to look at the distraction. Milk-white coat, brilliant and perfectly-coiffed mane, huge lilac eyes, a quizzical expression marking her snout.
 
Rarity: in a past life Rara, now just another hurdle to jump before my last.
 
"Yeah, what?" I mutter as I turn to glower at her. I shove my hands in my pockets, feeling for a pack and lighter before remember that I smoked my last camel ages ago. This day is just fan-fucking-tastic. Rarity cocks her head and canters forward slowly, probably wondering what the ungainly pale ape is doing out here in the middle of nowhere.
 
>"I was just--ahh--wondering what you were up to?"
 
"I could ask the same. Shouldn't you be knitting, or something?"
 
>"Wha-?"
 
She looks aghast. That knitting comment must have struck a nerve with her. I swear, if harrumphing had a walk, the fierce trot she maintained as she neared me would be it.
 
>"I don't *knit*; as you so blithely put it! I *sew*! I *design*!
 
The pony is now in my face: or would be, were she not literally knee-high to me. A good buck would still probably push me over the edge...
 
Wouldn't that be fitting? Killed by the Element of Generosity! I smirk a little, my final jab at a cruel cruel Paradise; to introduce murder into their little petri dish of a world. "No, not what I meant. Not because you're a designer, Snow White. Because you're a girl."
 
>"Now that's just uncalled for!"
 
She's shrieking now. Perfect She kicks her hooves up and steady her forequarters on my chest whilst taking in a deep breath, for what I assume is to be a masterful feminist tirade.
 
Except I won't giver her that satisfaction. My body become fluid at her touch, I will myself to fall backwards, into the fleeting embrace of Father Wind.
The ledge appears in my view, growing ever-smaller as what was a breeze becomes a gale in my ears. I grin up at the fleeting silhouette of Rarity as she looks down at me, a rictus of terror plastered across her visage. "truly, this will be a wonderful revenge. "So long, Rarity!" I shout at her--
 
And just as quickly, a violet hue encapsulates me. Outside of the coccoon I see her horn alight in the same color. Magic, I forgot.
 
By inches she pulls me back to solid ground. Apparently I'm a tad bit heavier than the usual bolts of fabric, because the expression of extreme conentration and exertion on her face suggests she could lift me about as easily as she could lift a minibus. But here she is, hauling my fat ass from the ravine and back to reality... kicking and screaming, or otherwise.
 
The sound of my teeth grinding could be heard over the sound of her telekinesis, I'm almost positive. Still as she's releases the magical envelope and drops me to the ground with a soft thud all that can be heard is the heavy panting of what must have been the extent of her magical prowess. She veritably flops down in front of me, gasping for oxygen, tiny purple sparks of energy sputtering from her horn. I watch her for a moment in sullen silence. Of course I would be denied a rendezvous with the bottom of the canyon. Of course this World wouldn't release me. Why should it? I was the main fucking attraction, right? What a rip-off. Angrily I stand up and start walking off, shouting over my shoulder "You shouldn't have done that. You should have just minded your own business and went the fuck on down the road!"
 
>"Buh-but why? Why were you out here, and why would you let me do that?"
 
Her shrill pleas finally sever my last nerve. I wheel on Rarity with a strom in my throat: a storm of venom and vitriol. I was gonna let this pony have it, whether I really wanted to or not.
"Because ever since I jumped into Equestria through that... I dunno, wormhole or temporal vortex and quantum-fucking-anomaly or whatever; all you, your friends and every other fucking pony in this God-damned world have just ignored and made fun of me! I try to make friends? I get weird looks and whispers behind my back! I try to help around Ponyville? Everypony just tells me to bugger off! I can't fly! I can't do magic, I can't farm or tend a shop or any-fucking-thing! I'm just a... just a FREAK!"
 
That was more than I'd intended to say. But now the floodgates were open. I've never been one to cry when upset. I just got louder, meaner. The voice emitting from my mouth doesn't sound like what I'd rememberd it sounding like, it sounds like the bellow of an enraged minotaur. "You your friends!? The so-called Elements of Harmony!? The epitome of what it means to be friends!? They're just as fucking useless! Princess Twilight High-and-Mighty Sparkle always has her snout crammed in a book, Applejack can't give me the time of day for working her damned farm! Fuck, even Pinkie Pie stopped talking to me!! Elements of FUCKING Harmony, pfft!"
 
That was a mouthful. I feel like I have another one inside, but suddenly all the juice comes out of the rant. I feel the wind go out of my sails and, exhausted of all the rage, sit hard on the ground. I glare at Rarity from heavily-lidded eyes. "If the friendliest god-damned pony in Ponyville can't find the time to cheer up the mutant hairless ape, why the Hell are YOU so fucking interested now, all of a sudden?"
>"Oh... Oh, darling..."
 
I didn't see her sidle nearer to me, nor did I hear her through the torrent of blood rushing through my ears. I barely felt the feather-light hoof gently touch my shoulder; see her lower her haunch of the ground beside me and offer the most consoling smile a false-guilt-ridden equine could offer.
 
>"I'm... I can't even imagine how long you've had all that bottled up! You've been here for so long now, almost a... a year, correct?"
 
Nod: singular and perfunctory. That's all she gets.
 
>"And all this time, you've felt this way? But you've never said anything to *anypony*! Why in Equestria would you hold on to that for so long, dearie?"
 
I've always hated twenty questions, so her query only earns her a sullen glare. I won't even dignify that question with another acerbic gout. She must have sensed my irritation, because the next thing she did was remover her hoof from my shoulder and stare morosely at the ground.
 
And there we sat, for what felt like eons. Why she couldn't just apologize and leave me to my suicide I have no clue. But here she stayed. I start to play with the gently-waving turf by building a log cabin-style hexagon. It's two inches tall before she speaks again.
 
>"You're Anon, correct?"
 
So I do have a name, huh? And somepony knows it; probably through the swapping of bitter tales. I'd always assumed they would just issue me a 'nom de plume', like Two-Legs, are Ape; something cutting and descriptive. But no, to this one I was Anon. I grunt affirmatively.
 
>"I've seen you around Ponyville. You were tying Dust Devil's balloon down. all the other ponies seemed so... in awe of you. Nuh-not as a freak mind you-!"
 
Thin ice, Rara. Choose your next words wisely.
 
>"Just in... in general; I guess. I mean, you're an oddity, true!...
 
Crack...
 
>"But at the same time you have such other wonderful qualities!"
 
Que Paso? "Such as...?"
>"Sssuch as... your drive! And you determination! And-"
 
"Drive and determination are the same thing."
 
>"Your tenacity!"
 
"Same thing..."
 
>"Your vigor and ruggedness! I mean darling; you wandered into the Everfree Forest and built a cabin, with your bare hands, no less! There aren-"
 
First of all, it wasn't a cabin; it was a sod hut. Once upon a time I had a grandfather who fancied himself a backwoodsman, and I myself had made a living schlepping around some of the rougher parts of Earth. So fieldcraft and I were old acquaintances. And secondly, I wouldn't have 'wandered into' the Everfree Forest because all the little ponies had made it abundantly clear that I wasn't welcome in Happyponyland. A month crawling through the alleys and fields of Ponyville, stealing and begging because no soul would give me the time of day, and I decided my prospects as a hermit were far better than an urban pariah. The damned Zebra made sure to stay out of my way, too. Surprise-fucking-surprise.
 
>"-way you secured that balloon so quickly and surely, though. Simply astonishing. *I* couldn't even manage that with magic! Not even Twilight. At least, not as quickly."
 
Is she still talking? Sweet Celestia's crotchtitties, what a prattler. I stand up and start to walk away. "Well, this has been fun. But I'm gonna go poke a manticore in the eye with a stick. So--y'know, don't fucking follow me this time."
 
>"WAIT!"
 
That ear-piercing wail was like nails across the chalkboard of my cerebellum. I couldn't imagine how any of those Rarafags in 4chin could find this crazy filly attractive, on grounds of *that* alone. Still, it served it's purpose, to make me stop and cringe. When my hearing returned, it was to the pitter-patter of hoofbeats running to catch up to me. Rarity stood in front of me, legs squared off defensively and a look of resolution smeared across her miniscule face.
>"Anon, I simply *must* insist you stop acting like such a... such a spoiled little colt!"
 
A colt? Ooohhh, boy. This conversation is so over. I hunch my shoulders and begin to push myself past the little horse. Were it not for the surprisingly obstinate prod of her horn I would have made it past her.
 
>"And *furthermore*, you are going to accompany me to my Boutique, wherein we're going to discuss these... issues you've been having, and how we can *overcome* them!"
 
"Yyyyeahno. I have a date with a manticore."
 
>"NO! YOU'RE COMING WITH ME *NOW*!"
 
Did the ground just shake? I think-- I think it did. Maybe I should go with her, for now.
The walk back to Ponyville was long, tedious, and more than a tad nerve-wracking.The little white-maned turquoise pony glared at me as I stomped past; her face a blending of awkward curiosity and stark trepidation. A carrot-bemarked pony with coat the sheen of an unripe lime began a hushed conversation with the purple one as Rarity and I passed. For her part, the fashionista was the epitome of grace and oblivioussness. She held head high and trotted through the dirt street with the poise of a duchess. I might as well have been a troglodyte next to her: I might very well have been, each snickered remark and crosswise glance received a scowl or terse remark in kind. Finally she glanced at me and said, in a tone suggesting compassion and re-education,
 
>"You know, Anon, the reason all the ponies might be so afraid of you *could* have something to do with your mannerisms."
 
"Beg pardon?"
 
>"You're so boorish, you act like you'd as soon throw mud on them as speak to them! You really *must* improve your attitude if you want to make friends."
 
She looks at me, positively beaming with what she probably thinks is a brilliant idea. This oughta be interesting.
 
>"I've got it! *I'll* be your etiquette coach!"
 
I stop dead in the street, forcing her to a halt as well. The glare I fix her with would make Clint Eastwood blink. She blinks and tilts her head to the side, arching an eyebrow. Before she could utter another sound I snort and keep trudging. "Save my life if you must, rarity. But I'll be cold in the ground before I take manners-lessons from you."
 
>"Whuh-why not?"
 
"To quote Popeye? 'I yam what I *fucking* yam." I turn my gaze to a gallumphing Pinkie Pie, who had just happened to be bouncing along the trail in the opposite. Before she could break the peace with her banshee's wail I thousand-yard-stare her into slinking away. Such is the might of my misanthro...misequo... my bad attitude.
"Dig it, Rarity. It took a lifetime to become what I've become.I was twenty-three years old when I showed up in Equestria. And believe me when I say this; I been some places, and done some shit. The road I've walked--"
 
>"The one we're on right now, or back in your world, Anon?"
 
"The metaphorical one: it was long and winding, and sometimes overcast, and sometimes it downright rained on me. I dealt with it by shutting it out. The besst defense from a hostile world it a solid and pre-emptive offense. Back in..."
 
I didn't realize we were so close to Carousel, because the garish cylindrical Boutique suddenly loomed on the horizon. I clamped my mouth, refusing to utter another word. Yeah, Rarity pushed and prodded for me to continue, but she might as well have tried to make a ballroom gown out of hemp. I was a rock, I was a slab of blast-plate I was--
 
Sitting in the Boutique, staring at a half-feral ball of white fuzz as it sneered at me and massaged needle-sharp claws into my leg. Cats were no better here than they were in my past life. I picked the savage housepet up and threw it on the floor, a split second before she came pack with a platter of china cups and a steaming pot.
 
>"I hope you like your tea strong, Anon. I'm afraid I let it steep just a *touch* too long.
 
I shrug and take the offered cup, sipping the piping liquid through clenched teeth. She stared at me expectantly. What, did she want a gushing confession of my adoration for her tea? I ate raw coffee beans by the tablespoon when I was a younger and stupider; she might as well have given me tapwater. Still, I reward her effort with a nod. Rarity took that as congratulations and beamed her thanks,
 
>"You were saying something earlier, Anon. Something about back in... 'Earth', is what you call it?"
 
"I don't wanna talk about it anymore." And like a flash she's back to the stern schoolmarm gag. I've seen many a thousand-yarder, but this was the first to make me blink. Ehh, so be it.