(If you would like to be added to a notification list, please let me know.) "Ugh...*cough* Am..am I dead?" "You are not dead Verbatim, though we are lucky we survived. Are you ok?" "I can't see a damn thing." "Neither can I, it appears the power to this pod got knocked out when it landed." "Well that's just fantastic. How the HELL are we going to get out of here?" "The wise thing for us to do is to calm down and try to feel around for a button or a level of some sort." "Good thinking wise guy, how the hell do you know whether or not this thing doesn't have a self-destruct? You'll probably press it on accident and kill us both! Oh wait, it will only kill me. YOU DON'T DIE!!!" "Verbatim, I understand you are stressed, but being hostile towards me will serve nobody especially in a situation....wait a moment. Can you move?" "Of course I can mo---SHIIIIT!!!!" "What's the matter?!?" "Nothing..." "Verbatim, you can tell me, I am a friend." "I said nothing is wrong!" "Very well, please continue to sit there doing nothing. I am going to try to find a way out....hmmm.....I think I found some....no, it feels like some sort of harness. Wait...what's thi.." "YOU JUST GRABBED MY CROTCH YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!!!" *smack!* *thump* "That really hurt Verbatim, I did not know your crotch was there. There was no reason to assault me." "Sorry, just watch where you're grabbing." "I can't, there is no light in here for me to see." "Whatever." "But your temper may have had a benefit. When you punched me, I stumbled back and knocked open some sort of storage compartment. I think I found something." Purple light illuminated the pod as Mr. Psychologist activated some sort of lambent crystal shaft. When he turned around, he saw Verbatim's predicament. At some point during their escape pod's tumbling descent, Verbatim's posterior somehow became impaled on some sort of level that was attached to the hatch. "You better NOT laugh!" Verbatim spat. "I have no intention of laughing at you right now, that looks very painful. But that lever you are *ahem* sitting on appears to be the lever that opens the latch. We will need to use it if we hope to get out of here." Mr. Psychologist said apologetically. Verbatim reached his hand up, Mr. Psychologist took it and pulled. Immediately Verbatim uttered several profanities as the lever slid out of his ass. When the lever no longer impaled his ass, it sprung back up into it's original position and the hatch opened. "When we meet up with the others, please do not tell anybody what happened." Verbatim pleaded. Mr. Psychologist nodded and promised to keep it a secret. Mr. Psychologist stepped out of the pod but Verbatim said "Wait, we should probably take these." He held up a set of plasma pistols. "You can use both of them, I try to avoid violence. A lot of the world's problems can be solved with words, not guns." Mr. Psychologist said. Verbatim shrugged and exited the pod. "Wow!" Verbatim exclaimed as he looked around their landing sight. They were surrounded by a forest of porches, motes of dust glimmered in the sunbeams that shone through their slats. It was a very odd sight, yet it was strangely beautiful and peaceful. A whinnying horse abruptly cantered across the landing sight, being chased by rather obese rolling disgusting fatass. "Come back Fluttershy!!! The world is ending!! We are meant to be together!!" the fatass pleaded as he rolled after her. "Oh shit!" Verbatim exclaimed, "A corrupted!" he readied the plasma pistol but Mr. Psychologist stopped him. "No, that is not a corrupted. It is simply a brony living out his dream." "That's disgusting!" Verbatim said. "It's sad." Mr. Psychologist corrected, "They do not have any friends, so they attempt to find some sort of psychological template for meaning in their lives. The brony template just happens to be the show, My Little Pony. Their desperate minds often warp the show's message of friendship. This poor soul, like many others, thinks it gives him the right to bestiality." "I GOTCHA!!!!" the brony shouted as he collided into the horse, knocking it over. The hooved animal squealed and flailed frantically, but the brony's wait was too much for it. "STOP RESISTING! I EVEN GOT A BRA FOR YOU TO WEAR! I MADE IT MYSELF!!" Then he pulled a bra with 6 gigantic cups out of his shirt, it appeared to be made from Cheetos bags that had been stapled together. "This is wrong." Verbatim exclaimed. "I'm going to stop him." He raised his plasma pistol just as the brony began to pull down his pants. "PREPARE TO RECEIVE MY FRIENDSHIP!!" the brony shouted. Suddenly a figure dropped from one of the tall porches and impaled the blubbery monstrosity through the neck. He was wearing a hood that covered most of his face, except for his grinning mouth. The newcomer said "yesss.....feed my blade with your life force." as the brony gurgled up blood. "Now that.." Mr. Psychologist said, "Is a corrupted." When the fat lard stopped moving, the newcomer withdrew the blade and frowned. "Your life force was disappointing, it was as if you had no life." The horse wriggled around neighing frantically. "I see, you want to be free." the hooded figure said. In a flurry of movements, he brutally sliced the dead brony into hundred of pieces, allowing the horse to get back of on it's feet, chunks of diced brony slid off it's hindquarters. "Go, be on your way." The hooded figure said to the horse. It whinnied happily, did a small dance and began to run off. "Wow, what a nice guy." Verbatim said. But the newcomer took a large metal ring off his back and threw it like a Frisbee towards the horse. It glided gracefully and silently through the air and passed through the horse's neck effortlessly. It's head toppled off it's neck and fell on the ground. The horse's body kept running for a few meters then fell over, spewing blood. The metal ring returned to it's owner, who sheathed it on his back again. "Oh...shit..." Verbatim exclaimed. The figure turned towards both of them and licked his blade. Verbatim could now see that there was a name badge on his shirt, it said "Hunter". "Verbatim," Mr. Psychologist whispered, "Whatever you do, don't run. Follow my lead." Verbatim nodded silently as Hunter approached them. "My blade cannot get enough of the hunt." Hunter said, "It says you are my new prey." Mr. Psychologist let out a rather long, exaggerated yawn, which confused the hunter. "Aren't you going to run, prey?" he asked. "Nope. We are unworthy game. Verbatim and I are are not very good at running or hiding, so it would be no fun to you. We would die too fast." Mr. Psychologist answered, perfectly calm. "Is that so? It may be true for you, but your friend is ready to put up a fight." Hunter said, pointing a blade at Verbatim, who was gripping his plasma pistol. "Drop it" Mr. Psychologist whispered. Verbatim trembled, but then he reluctantly let go of the plasma pistol. When it hit the ground, it fired a shot which hit Hunter right in the chest. Hunter grasped his chest and growled, glowing red eyes appeared under the darkness of his hood. "I will give you a 60 second head start, prey. THEN I'LL COME FOR YOU!" The next moment, Verbatim's feet were carrying him as fast as he could go. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he ran for his life. His chest hurt and beads of sweat ran down his face. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he knew he had to put as much distance between him and Hunter. Verbatim heard wood falling to the ground behind him and ducked just in time as the ring breezed over his head, slicing off a few of his hairs. The ring made a u-turn and began to come back towards Verbatim, who ducked for a second time. But he stumbled over a root and fell to the ground. He could not get back up, he was out of breath and his muscles were worn. Verbatim heard hunter catch the ring. Then he felt the corrupted rest a knee on his back. "You did quite well, prey. But now I have caught you." Verbatim saw Hunter's shadow raise a knife and he braced himself for death. Suddenly a bolt sliced through the air and Hunter's arm fell to the ground next to Verbatim's head. He emitted a loud angry roar and thrashed on the ground as the tissue in the bleeding stump began to weave a new arm. Verbatim heard what sounded like wings flapping and felt a few wafts of air brush over him. "Oh please, this isn't the first time I've given a hand job to a predator." a smooth silky voice churred. Verbatim looked up to see who his savior was and his jaw dropped. There standing in a sunbeam was a very slender blue dragon, the sunlight hitting his vibrant mane threw green light everywhere. Several piercings adorned the dragon's long blue ears. He wore a sleeveless black shirt and disturbingly tight spandex pants that had red and purple stripes which seemed to accentuate his supple curves. This dragon, whose vibrant pink eyes radiated with confidence, seemed to Verbatim to be the pure embodiment of all -blam!-ry in the world made manifest, a paradox of both breathtaking beauty and cringe-worthy horror. This dragon was Maluki Fenfair Quitonm. (To be continued in part 2 later)