# 1: The Grassy Knoll

My head was pounding. I opened my eyes and squinted into bright sunlight.

[i]Sunlight?[/i]

The last thing I could remember was the house I was fumigating. I had been tracking [i]blatella germanica,[/i] the German cockroach, one of the most cunning creatures known to man. For hours our game of cat and mouse had gone on, until finally I had the bastard cornered in the cellar. We faced off. I remember he'd waved his antenna in defiance, mocking me to the last. I admired his courage. I pulled the trigger of my spray wand and let him have it. Poison spewed forth, a thick miasma of toxic death, slowly filling up the basement. I remembered my head started swimming, it was getting harder to think straight. I'd turned to the side...I remembered seeing my reflection in a mirror...

My head throbbed again. The poison. That had to be it. I must have passed out from the fumes. It's happened before. Damn crafty roaches, always hiding in unventillated basements.

[i]How did I get outside, though?[/i]

I sat up. I was alone on a grassy knoll. Gentle hills rolling off in all directions, covered in wild grasses and flowers. There was no sign of the house, or of civilization of any kind. This didn't look like any part of Arlen I'd ever seen.

[i]Where am I? How did I get here?[/i]

I felt a chill run down my spine. What if it hadn't been an accident? What if that basement had been left unventillated on purpose? Whoever did this must have waited until I'd passed out, and then dragged me out to this meadow and left me for dead.

"The question is who," I said aloud. "And why?"

Was the roach behind it? No, that couldn't be. [i]Blatella germanica[/i] was crafty, but not crafty enough to pull off something like this. Plus, there was the size difference. No, whoever did this had to be large enough and strong enough to carry a full-grown man. But what if the cockroach had been [i]in[/i] on it?

"Yes, it all makes sense..." I mused.

The roach's job had been to create a diversion. He would lure me down to the basement, where I would have no choice but to use poison. His accomplices would have sealed up the windows in advance. Then, when I'd passed out from the fumes--

I took a closer look at my surroundings. The terrain was completely unfamiliar; as far as I could tell, I was in the middle of nowhere. I might not have even been in Texas anymore. Somebody had wanted to get me out of the way, that much was certain.

"So the [i]real[/i] question is: who stands to gain from my disappearance?"

The Federal government was the obvious answer. Maybe a little [i]too[/i] obvious. They had to know that I was getting close, but this was a bold move even for them. There had to be other parties involved.

I reached into the pocket of my jumpsuit, and frowned.

[i]That's odd. Where are my smokes?[/i]

I felt in the other pockets. Nothing. I'd bought a whole carton the other day, and I knew for certain I'd had at least half a pack on me when I entered the house.

I felt my stomach tighten. The situation was even more dire than I'd thought. Stuck in an unknown location without smokes. I could feel the early onset of panic: sweat breaking out on my forehead... heart palpitations... tunnel vision...

[i]Calm down Gribble, you're trained for this...[/i]

I began to perform an ancient Indian breathing technique I'd learned from John Redcorn. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out. Slowly, steadily, I brought myself back from the precipice.

I stared out at the landscape once again. It was a warm, quiet afternoon. A light breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and far-off pine trees. It was a nice place here, quiet and tranquil. And yet, somewhere out there lurked a malevolent entity, an entity that had brought me to this place for some unknown reason, and deprived me of my smokes...

"Show yourself, you coward!!" I shouted, shaking my fist at the air.

"Uh...are you talking to me?"

I wheeled around at the sound of a young, feminine voice. I must still have been woozy from the poison, otherwise nobody could have gotten the drop on Dale Gribble. I looked around in confusion for the source of the voice, but could find no one. Was this some kind of telepathy? Were the government agents speaking directly into my mind?

"Uhhhh...hello?"

The voice came again. This time I looked down. For the first time, I noticed a tiny white horse standing knee-deep in the grass, looking up at me with a confused expression.

She was the strangest-looking horse I'd ever seen. Her coat was white, but her mane and tail were pink and purple, done up in flowing curls. For some reason, looking at her made me think of a marshmallow. A small white horn protruded from the center of her forehead, possibly of alien origin.

She stared up at me, her enormous green eyes curious but unafraid. I stared back. Several uncomfortable seconds passed.

"Uh, my name's Sweetie Belle," she said. "What's yours?"

[i]So, the horse can speak English. Intriguing...[/i]

The horse was an extraterrestrial; there was no doubt about that much. Could she have been involved in my abduction? Looking at her, it seemed unlikely. Suddenly, I realized that she'd just asked me a question.

"My name is--"

I cut myself off. This 'Sweetie Belle' didn't resemble any hostile form of alien life that I was familiar with, but it wouldn't do to let my guard down. Until I knew more about what was happening, I needed to keep my true identity a secret.

"My name is...Shackleford. Rusty."

The little horse raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Shackleford? That's kind of a weird name."

She trotted a small circle around me, looking me up and down. Either she'd never seen an Earth man before, or she was looking for a place to implant a microchip. Until I knew which it was, I felt it was best to be on my guard.

"You don't look like a pony," she continued. "What are you exactly?"

[i]So, she's a pony eh? Interesting...[/i]

On Earth, a pony is a subspecies of equine, known for its diminuitive stature. Could the same type of creature have evolved simultaneously on an alien world, and learned to speak English somehow?

[i]The rabbit hole just keeps getting deeper and deeper...[/i]

Instinctively, I reached into my jumpsuit pocket, only to remember that my smokes were gone. I felt that twinge of anxiety creeping up on me again. If I didn't get some nicotine soon, things could get ugly fast...

I realized the pony was still watching me.

"Say, uh...Sweetie Belle, was it?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know where I could buy some smokes around here?"

She wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Smokes?"

"Yeah, you know, puff puff?" I held two fingers to my lips and pantomimed smoking a cigarette.

The horse stared blankly back at me.

"Cigarettes? Manitoba?"

I made the pantomime smoking gesture again. Sweetie Belle cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.

"You're really weird," she said.

She glanced over her shoulder. For the first time, I noticed the outline of a few buildings in the distance. There must be some kind of civilization nearby.

"Someone in town might know what you're talking about," Sweetie Belle continued. "Do you live near Ponyville?"

Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Ponyville?"

I couldn't say I'd ever heard of the place. I knew there was a petting zoo in McMaynerbury called Ponyland, but somehow I didn't think that's what she was talking about.

"Is that anywhere near Arlen?" I asked carefully.

"Arlen? Um, I'm not sure. I don't think I know where that is."

"Arlen, Texas?"

"Texas? Is that in Equestria?"

"Equestria?"

Slowly, it began to dawn on me that I might be even further from home than I'd first thought. Maybe even as far as Oklahoma.

"I think...I may be lost," I said, slowly and carefully.

Sweetie Belle's face brightened.

"Oh, well, that's okay! I can show you the way to Ponyville, if you want."

I gave the little pony one last suspicious appraisal, and decided to trust her for the time being.

"Alright," I said.

"Come on," she continued. "We'll go back to my clubhouse first. My friends might know about...what was that thing you wanted again?"

"Smokes?"

"Yeah, that. Anyway, my friends might know where you could find some."

"Okey dokey."

The little pony turned at trotted off through the grass, and I fell into step behind her.

# 2: Planet of the Ponies

[i]
Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Approximately 1600 hours

With each passing moment, my situation grows more dire. I have decided to keep a journal to record my thoughts. If you are reading this, I have no doubt been taken prisoner and/or killed. Please deliver this notebook to the Arlen Gun Club, or failing that, to Mr. Hank R. Hill of Rainy Street.

If you are an agent of the United States government, this journal is not about anything important. Please disregard.

It has now been nearly 60 minutes since my last smoke. Already I can feel the madness taking hold. Soon I will be incapacitated beyond rational thought. It is only due to my extensive training as a licensed professional bounty hunter that I have managed to thus far remain calm.

The small equine creature that greeted me has taken me back to her lair, a crudely constructed treehouse, where I was introduced to two creatures of the same species. The little yellow one calls herself "Apple Bloom," and her friend is "Scootaloo." The possibility that these are CIA-assigned codenames has not escaped me.

The further I travel, the more apparent it becomes that I am a stranger in a strange land. I have seen no familiar landmarks, and no sign of human presence. My current location is unknown, though I now believe that I have left Earth entirely. Alien abduction is the most likely explanation, though I shouldn't rule out other possibilities.

Fortunately, my training allows me to project the appearance of perfect nonchalance. I don't think my tiny horse companions suspect that anything is amiss...[/i]

"What's he writin' about?" one of the little ponies, the one called Apple Bloom, whispered to Sweetie Belle. Sweetie shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know," she whispered back. "It looks important, though."

I ignored them both and continued scribbling furiously into my notebook. I could feel the early stages of nicotine madness coming on, and I knew I didn't have much time. Wherever I was, I knew that I might not make it out of this alive. I had to record my thoughts and observations while I still could.

"He's sweating an awful lot," observed a third pony, the little orange one with wings. Scootaloo. Sweetie Belle said nothing, but kept watching me with a concerned expression on her face.

"Uh, Mr. Rusty?" said Apple Bloom hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

I glared suspiciously at the three ponies for a moment, then continued writing:

[i]These pony creatures resemble no form of extraterrestrial life with which I am familiar, and my experiences do not fit the usual pattern of alien abduction. Also unusual is that these "ponies" have mastered the English language, and seem to possess technology similar to ours.[/i]

My hands were beginning to twitch uncontrollably; it was all I could do to keep my pen straight. I could feel a familiar queasiness in my stomach. My head was swimming. I noticed that Scootaloo was watching my movements closely. I felt the cold icy fingers of paranoia creeping up my spine. What was it about this one that was bothering me?

Suddenly, I remembered something I'd noticed earlier, and began to scribble hastily in my journal:

[i]Observed that "Scootaloo" arrived at the treehouse on a scooter similar to the kind Earth children use. She was also wearing a crash helmet. Why would a race of four-legged creatures develop a mode of transport that would be incredibly awkward for them to use? Why would a pony with wings need to use a scooter to get around in the first place? How did she get that helmet on? How did she get it off? I have more questions than answers.

Have I truly left Earth, as I suspect? Or have I traveled through time to some grim distant future, in which hyper-evolved ponies have risen up and destroyed their former masters?

Or, what if it's even simpler than that? What if I never left Arlen, but instead Arlen was invaded and rapidly terraformed by invaders from some far-off planet of the horses?[/i]

The dizziness and nausea were getting worse. It was getting harder and harder to think. My hand was by now shaking uncontrollably, and I realized that writing was a wasted effort. I stuffed the notebook and pencil back into the pocket of my exterminator jumpsuit.

"Uh...Mr. Rusty?"

Sweetie Belle was watching me with concern. The little treehouse felt hot and stifling. I took off my baseball cap and wiped my brow; my hand came back soaked with sweat. I didn't have much time.

"Smokes..." I croaked out, my voice barely audible.

"Huh?" asked Scootaloo, wrinkling her brow in confusion.

"SMOKES!!"

I had meant that to be a sentence. It came out more like a shriek. The three ponies stepped back in alarm.

"Wow, he looks really sick," Scootaloo remarked.

"Yeah..." Sweetie Belle sounded worried. "He's been talking about something called 'smokes' an awful lot. Do either of you know what those are?"

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo shook their heads.

I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. Things were looking bad. The three ponies had picked up on my weakness. If they were hostile, they could pounce at any second.

I decided to make a break for the door. I stood up, doing my best to appear nonchalant. Unfortunately, I stood up too fast; my coordination was off. Also, I had forgotten I was in a treehouse built for very small ponies. My head slammed against the ceiling, and I fell backward through the door.

I tumbled head over heels and out into empty space. Suddenly, I was rolling down a flight of stairs. I saw blue sky above me, and then wood, then blue sky, then wood; over and over. Occasionally I caught glimpses of a treehouse getting further and further away.

The back of my head connected with a rock or something as I hit the ground. Through my blurred vision I could see the heads of the three ponies poking out over the edge of the treehouse entrance.

"Uh, maybe we should get my sister."

Apple Bloom's voice floated through a fog of confusion as I struggled to maintain consciousness. Dimly I wondered who this "sister" might be. Was the alien queen going to harvest my organs? Was this how the story of Dale Gribble was going to end?

I reached for my emergency cyanide pill, but realized that it was probably with my smokes. Then, I remembered that I didn't actually have an emergency cyanide pill. I had tried to order one, but there was some kind of problem with the international shipping. Damned internet.

[i]Just my luck, isn't it?[/i]

My vision went black, and I remembered no more.

# 3:

When I came to, I was lying in a strange bed.

I didn't recognize the room, but it was definitely a human dwelling. There was no one else around. My head was still swimming. Disjointed images flickered rapidly through my head. Ponies. Flying saucers. Cockroaches as big as your fist.

The nicotine fit had unfortunately not subsided. I was sweating and experiencing mild convulsions. However, as far as I could tell, there was no sign of the three ponies or the treehouse.

"Was it a dream?" I wondered out loud.

I blinked and took another look at my surroundings. The place definitely had a rustic feel. The walls, floor and ceiling were all made out of wood, making the place feel more like the inside of a barn than a house. Everything had a weird "apple" motif to it. However, the furniture was definitely made for humans.

My mind was still hazy, but I tried to remember the details of the house I'd been fumigating. It was a place in East Arlen; the owner's name was Mrs. Rackley I think.

"Maybe she found me after I passed out and carried me upstairs," I mused.

Yeah, that made sense. This was probably the attic or something. I must have passed out from the poison, and the owner of the house came home and carried me up to a spare bedroom. All that stuff about ponies must have just been a gas-induced nightmare.

"Hah!" I laughed out loud. "Ponies riding scooters, building treehouses...I'd have to be crazy to believe something like that! Wait until the guys in the alley hear about this..."

I struggled into a sitting position and pushed back the thick quilt that someone had placed on top of me. I was still wearing my Dale's Dead Bug jumpsuit. I reached into the pocket for my smokes, but found it was empty. Dang, looks like that part hadn't been a dream. My hat and glasses were on a side table.

"Maybe Mrs. Rackley has some smokes," I muttered as I rummaged around in the table's little drawer. No such luck it would seem. Oh well, I'd just have to grab the pack out of the Bugabago.

Before I could climb out of bed, I heard footsteps in the hall. Something about them didn't quite sound right.

[i]Do human footsteps normally make that clip-clop sound?[/i]

Slowly, the door creaked open, and in an instant the horror and paranoia was back. For instead of the haggard face of Mrs. Rackley, I saw the face of an orange pony poking its way through the opening.

This pony was larger than the other three, but she was still smaller than a normal sized one. She had a blonde mane and her coat was the color of an orange popsicle. For some reason she was wearing a cowboy hat.

[i]Why would a pony need to wear a cowboy hat?[/i]

Something wasn't right here. The pony and I stared at each other for several seconds, neither of us saying anything. Then, slowly, it began to dawn on me.

The house. The bed. The quilt. The hat. None of these things made sense for a pony to own. This wasn't a pony house. [i]This was a people house.[/i] Or at least...it used to be.

A slow chill ran up my spine. What kind of horror story had I woken up in? But I could no longer deny the evidence that was right in front of my face. None of it had been a dream. While I was passed out, Arlen had been invaded by talking ponies...and one of them had [i]killed Mrs. Rackley and stolen her hat![/i]

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THE PEOPLE WHO LIVE HERE?!?" I shouted.

Or at least, that's what I'd meant to say. It came out more like garbled gibberish; somewhere between a cough and a girlish shriek. Reflexively, I grabbed the quilt and pulled it up to shield myself.

The pony gave me a confused look, and then turned to address someone behind her in the hallway.

"Uh, can he talk?" she asked. "Or does he just make noise like that?"

The pony had an accent. She sounded like she came from down south somewhere.

[i]By God, they're learning to mimic us! Clever girl...[/i]

"He can talk. Sorta."

One of the three smaller ponies from before, the one called Apple Bloom, trotted into the room, followed by her two friends.

"At least, I've heard him say 'smokes' an awful lot," she added.

The larger one screwed up her face in confusion.

"Smokes? Now what in the hay is that?"

She approached me and put her face close to mine, looking me over.

"Just what sorta criter are you, anyway?" she asked. "You don't look like no kinda pony I've ever seen."

[i]Wait, if she killed Mrs. Rackley, why does it sound like she's never seen humans before?[/i]

Damned nicotine fit; I couldn't even think straight. It felt like there was a big piece of the puzzle that I was missing. I tried to climb out of the bed, but my balance was still off.

"My name is Rusty Shackleford," I said. "I am on vacation--"

Somehow, I'd become entangled in the quilt. I lost my balance, and my head clonked against the hard wooden floor. An orange hoof pulled back the quilt, and the hat-wearing pony was now staring down at me from above, a look of confused pity in her eye.

"Whatever it is, it doesn't seem too bright..." she said.

I tried to stand up and speak, but my body would not obey my commands. I could only lie curled on the floor in a fetal position, twitching pathetically.

[i]Damn my lack of smokes...[/i]

"Smooookes..." I croaked out feebly.

The orange pony gave me a long, pitying look and turned once more to the smaller one.

"Wow, he's really sweatin'. Where did y'all say you found him again?"

"He was in a meadow a little ways outside Ponyville," said Sweetie Belle. "He said he was lost."

She stood with her front hooves on my chest and peered down at me with a concerned look.

"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked. "I think we really need to get him some smokes, whatever those are."

Apple Bloom trotted over and looked up at the bigger pony.

"Have any idea what they are, Applejack?"

The big pony, whose name seemed to be Applejack, rubbed a hoof against her chin and stared through the window, lost in thought.

"No, I don't reckon I do," she admitted. "Granny Smith might know, but she and Big Mac are down in Baltimare and won't be back for a week."

Her face lit up, and she stomped a hoof decisively against the floor.

"I know! Let's ask Twilight for help! If anypony 'round her would know what 'smokes' are, it'd be her."

The three smaller ponies looked up excitedly.

"Hey, yeah!" exclaimed Sweetie Belle, her hooves digging sharply into my sternum. "That's a great idea! Twilight knows about all kinds of weird stuff!"

"I'll run out and get her," Applejack was saying, as she headed for the door. "It's probably best if we keep him here for now. He looks like he could use some more rest, anyway."

She cast a worried glance over her shoulder.

"Y'all stay here and keep an eye on...uh, what did you say your name was again?"

"Sh-Shackleford. Rusty."

As I croaked out the words, Sweetie Belle suddenly realized she was still standing on my chest, and she quickly stepped back.

"Right," said Applejack. "Mr. Rusty. Well, I'll be off then. Don't y'all go nowhere."

And with that, she turned and galloped off down the hall.

# Chapter Four: Trust No One

I continued to drift in and out of consciousness, strange visions floating before my eyes. Images of humans, my friends and family, toiling under their new candy-colored overlords. Arlen, my beloved hometown, stripped bare of its resources and converted into some kind of reverse petting zoo, where enslaved humans prance around for the amusement of ponies...ponies that strut around in our hats while we are forced to go about in the nude...

As I drifted back and forth between the world of dreams and the nightmare realm that had become my reality, I kept hearing snippets of voices; the ponies no doubt deciding my fate as I lay helpless, writhing in agony.

"...don't know what to do..."

"...ain't seen nothin' like it..."

"...keeps talking about 'smokes'..."

Nothing was clear anymore. Part of me wished they would just finish me off and be done with it. The vision of a woman passed suddenly before my eyes, a blonde, beautiful goddess with a great can. My wife, Nancy.

[i]That's right. Nancy! Where are you? What have these horrible ponies done to you?[/i]

No, I couldn't give up. I had to pull through and survive. My wife. My son. They needed me. Sure, I could probably trust John Redcorn to look after them for a little while. He was a good man, but it wouldn't be fair of me to expect a guy like him to spend the rest of his life taking care of another man's son. Especially not in whatever grim pastel-colored hell the world had become. I had to pull through this.

I was already slipping back into the realm of dreams, but I forced myself to stay conscious. I tried to focus on the ponies' conversation. There might be something I could learn.

"...not quite sure what it is specifically, but he's definitely addicted to something."

My ears perked up. A new voice was speaking. Another female, this one sounded high and nasaly. Bookish.

"Can you do anythin' for him?"

That was Applejack speaking. The new voice hummed softly in response, as if deep in thought.

"I'm not sure," the mystery voice admitted finally. "If we can find out a little more about what he's addicted to, I can probably transfer the addiction to something harmless; tree bark or asparagus or something."

"That might help..." mused Applejack.

"I can cast something temporary that should give him some relief for now," the voice continued. "Once we get him conscious and speaking, we can ask him a little more about...what did he say they were called?"

"Smokes," chimed in Sweetie Belle from somewhere.

"Right. Smokes. Okay then. Here, uh, Mr. Rusty. Hold still."

Suddenly, I felt a warm sensation envelop my entire body. My brain had been running a mile a minute, but now it began to slow down, and my thoughts became more orderly. I felt...great, actually. The icy tendrils of nicotine withdrawal were melting away. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Now you can tell me--"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

A new pony was standing over the bed, looking down at me. She was completely purple, the color of off-brand cough medicine, except for a magenta streak down her mane. A sinister horn protruded from her forehead, glowing with an evil aura.

I had no doubt about what she was planning to do next.

"Get away from me, you nasty alien!!" I shrieked, flailing my hands wildly. The pony took several steps backward in alarm.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "What in the name of Celestia--"

Recovering herself, she took a tentative step forward, then another, her horn still glowing.

I had no idea what she'd done, but somehow she'd cured my nicotine fit. Unfortunately for her, that would prove her undoing. I hadn't wanted to reveal my martial arts training just yet, but this pony had forced my hand.

"I WON'T LET YOU PROBE ME!" I shouted. "NEVER AGAIN!!! SHISHISHAW!!!!"

I sprang from the bed, aiming a karate chop that [i]should[/i] have incapacitated the creature's horn. However, she suddenly vanished into thin air, reappearing about three feet to the right. My strike passed through the space where she'd been, throwing me off balance. I went to the ground, face-first, the full force of my karate chop connecting with the hardwood floor. My hand went numb, and I cried out in pain.

"What in Equestria are you trying to do?!?"

I rolled over on my back. The purple pony was standing off to the side, looking confused and annoyed. Applejack and the three smaller onese were nearby, looking just as confused.

"By God...teleportation..." I muttered. "Even the CIA hasn't perfected that yet! Just what in the hell are you?!?"

I pulled myself slowly to my feet. The ceiling in here was lower than you'd expect in a human dwelling, I noticed, but not so low that I couldn't stand. I fell into a defensive stance, glowering at the purple one.

"Mr. Rusty," Applejack interjected, "This here's my friend Twilight. She's only tryin' to help--"

She tried to move in between me and the pony called Twilight, but as she did I noticed that horn beginning to glow again. I felt a tingling in my skin, and the hairs on my arm were standing on end.

"Not today, you bastards!"

I took a sudden leap forward, startling Twilight just enough for me to break free of the aura of pink light that was encircling me. I made a dash for a nearby window, but before I could reach the latch, she recovered her concentration. I found myself trapped in some kind of alien tractor beam, being lifted slowly into the air.

"Listen," said Twilight, "I don't know what's going on exactly, but I'm not trying to hurt you. If you could just hold still for a second--"

My right hand was still numb from the shock of hitting the floor, but I could move my left. I slipped it into the pocket of my jumpsuit, reaching for my secret weapon.

"That's it," said Twilight soothingly, taking a tentative step forward. "Nopony's trying to hurt you, now let's all just calm down and--"

As soon as the pony was in range, I suddenly let my hand fly with as much force as I could muster.

"Pocket sand!" I cried.

"Aaah! What the--"

Twilight reflexively moved her foreleg up to shield her eyes. The tractor beam broke, and I dropped to the floor, landing in a crouch.

I cast a wary glare around the room. Twilight was blinking and rubbing sand out of her eyes. The other four were just standing there, looking stunned and a little frightened.

"We were just trying to help," stammered Sweetie Belle.

The tiny marshmallow-horse looked genuninely hurt, and for just a second I felt a little bad. Was this all just a misunderstanding? Could these creatures be friendly after all?

I gave my head a quick shake.

[i]Snap out of it, Gribble! Whatever happened to 'trust no one?' Do you want to end up naked on some alien-horse-doctor's dissection table?!?[/i]

"YOU'LL NEVER GET MY BRAIN!!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, and they all took a surprised step back. That was the chance I needed. I sprang back to the window, and before any of the ponies had a chance to react, I pried back the latch and flung it open. I paused only long enough to snatch up my hat and glasses from the bedside table and to flash the alien invaders a triumphant grin, and then I sprang through the open window.

Unfortunately, the roof outside had a steeper slope than I'd anticipated. I immediately lost my footing, slid down the roof and collided face-first with the peaked roof of some kind of outbuilding underneath.

"Ow..." I muttered, as I began an immediate slide down slope to my left.

I rolled down the roof of the outbuilding, landing on my back with a plop in a puddle of what I really hoped was just soft mud. I could hear pigs grunting and squeaking in alarm.

Up above, Applejack's confused face poked out through the window I'd jumped out of.

"Hey there!" she called out. "Mr. Rusty! Are you crazy? Get back here!"

I realized that the element of surprise had only bought me a few precious seconds. I didn't have time to lie around here all day. The one called "Twilight" seemed pretty sharp for a talking horse; most likely she'd already sent for reinforcements.

I scrambled to my feet and stumbled forward as quickly as I could, but the mud was slowing me down. I remember being vaguely aware of Applejack calling out to me, but I don't remember what she said. There was a white picket fence not far, and on the other side was freedom. I focused my attention on that.

Once I was over the fence I was able to move more quickly. I still had no idea where exactly I was, but this was clearly a farm, and the layout was predictable. A front gate led out to a dusty unpaved road running in two directions. I didn't know which direction led where, but it didn't matter. Staying off the main roads when you're under enemy pursuit is pretty much Survival 101.

I dashed across the road and into a massive orchard of apple trees that spread off in all directions. I could hear hoofbeats behind me, still far away for now, but they would close the distance fast.

The surrounding countryside was hilly, and in the distance ahead I could see a thick forest beginning where the apple trees ended. My only hope was to make it to those woods and lose them inside. I took off into a sprint, pushing my body as hard as my poor, smokeless lungs would allow.

"Dammit," I wheezed as I ran, apple trees whizzing past on all sides. "Where am I? What is this place? Nothing makes sense anymore..."

# Chapter 5:

[i]
Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Approximately 1800 hours

After my harrowing escape from Applejack's Farm of Horrors and its surrounding orchards, I found myself in a deep forest. Due to my extensive training as a professional Soldier of Fortune, I was able to give my pursuers the slip, and I no longer fear capture. However, the downside of this seems to be that I am now lost in unfamiliar terrain.

As I do not remember there being any forests of this size near Arlen, I have decided to proceed from the assumption that my abductors have taken me a long ways from home. The possibility that this could all be a sophisticated hologram has not escaped me, however I do not at present consider this likely.

I am still without food and without smokes. My ability to navigate by the North Star is presently useless as it is daytime. During my time in captivity, the pony called "Twilight" used some kind of weird alien power to cure my nicotine fits; however, I suspect the effects will be temporary. In a few hours time, I will once again be incapacitated for lack of smokes.

The situation remains dire. What awaits me is a battle between Man and Nature that will put my survival training to the ultimate test. I do not know which of us will emerge the victor.

If I do not return, I implore whoever finds this journal to please convey my love and regret to my wife, Nancy Hicks-Gribble, and to my son, Joseph Gribble.
[/i]

I was deep in the forest, the shadows around me growing longer as the sun veered sharply to the West. Thick undergrowth and gnarly trees, beginning to look more and more menacing in the fading light, closed in on me from all sides.

I stopped at a small brook to smear some mud on my face. This was an old Indian camouflage trick I'd learned from my good friend John Redcorn. Either that or I saw it in a movie once; I don't remember. By painting my face with mud, my skin will resemble tree bark. If a pony passes by, I can hold still with my arms in an upright position. Pony vision is based on movement, so I knew that as long as I didn't move a muscle, the pony would think I was a tree and keep walking.

[i]Wait, is that ponies or bears?[/i]

I frowned, rubbing mud down the front of my jumpsuit and along the arms. Nearby, an owl hooted, followed by another one. A cicada was chirping in a bush somewhere off to my right. Night would be approaching soon.

[i]No, I'm pretty sure it's ponies.[/i]

I grabbed a handful of sand and stuffed it into my pockets. Might as well reload while I have the chance. Then, I pulled some twigs off of a nearby branch and stuck it into the chest pockets of the jumpsuit, and into the wrist cuffs.

[i]Yes, this disguise is perfect. These alien ponies have no idea who they're up against.[/i]

I heard a slight rustle in the leaves behind me. Instantly I froze, holding my arms upright like a saguaro cactus.

"Mr. Ruuuuuuuusty! Helloooooo! Jeez, where did he go?"

I recognized that voice. It was the little pony I met first, the one called Sweetie Belle.

[i]Damn, even with my wilderness skills she still managed to track me here. I don't think I'm dealing with amateurs here.[/i]

That little pony clearly wasn't as harmless as she looked. Plus, she had one of those horns, too; I couldn't overlook the possibility that she might try and probe me. She was pretty tiny, so I was confident I could take her if she was on her own. However, if she had her friends with her...

[i]No, better to just remain in disguise for now. Violence only as a last resort.[/i]

I held still, perfectly rigid, arms upright. I tried to empty my mind and become one with nature, just like John Redcorn (or the Indian in the movie, I forget which one) taught me.

[i]I'm a tree...[/i]

The underbrush rustled just head of me, and a moment later a little white unicorn stepped through. She stared at me for several seconds. I held perfectly still.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

That was probably a ploy. My disguise was perfect, so I knew she couldn't see me, but she most likely could sense that I was nearby. I wasn't about to allow her to lure me out. I continued to hold perfectly still.

She stared at me for several more seconds, her brow wrinkled in confusion. Finally, she sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

"Look," she said. "We don't have time for...whatever this is. You need to come with me right now, it's not safe out here."

[i]Heh. Like I'd really fall for a simple trick like that.[/i]

I continued to hold perfectly still. I was a tree...

"Look, Applejack carried you [i]alllll[/i] the way back to the farmhouse, and then [i]allllll[/i] the way upstairs, and then Twilight came [i]allllllll[/i] the way out to Sweet Apple Acres just to help cure you of your smoke disease, or whatever it was. And all you did was throw sand in her face and then jump out the window and run away! I've never been so embarrassed in my life!"

She glared at me, but when I didn't respond, she just sighed heavily again.

"You're a really weird guy, Mr. Rusty," she said. "You need to come back with me and apologize to Applejack and Twilight."

[i]I'm a tree...[/i]

She gave an irritated grunt.

"As in...right now?"

[i]I'm a tree...[/i]

Sweetie Belle sighed, rolled her eyes, and then trotted around behind me. I felt her little head pushing against the backs of my legs as she tried to nudge me forward.

[i]Won't work. I'm a tree...[/i]

For an extraterrestrial, she didn't seem all that strong. After pushing at me for a few seconds and getting nowhere, she gave out an exasperated grunt and then trotted away, muttering to herself.

[i]Heh, looks like I foiled her. You have to get up pretty early in the morning if you want to get one over on a Gribble...[/i]

Suddenly, I heard the sound of tiny galloping hooves approaching from behind. A moment later something tiny, hard and faintly sharp collided with the back of my knee. The force was enough to knock me off balance.

"Whoa..."

I wavered back and forth for a split second and then fell forward into the dirt. I rolled over onto my back. Sweetie Belle immediately hopped onto my chest and stood glaring down at me.

"There," she said. "Are you happy now? Come on, get up. We've got to get back."

[i]So, she got one over on a Gribble. I wonder what time she got up this morning?[/i]

"My disguise didn't even fool you for a second, did it?" I said out loud. She clambered off my chest and sat down on her haunches as I pulled myself to my feet.

She raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"Disguise? What were you pretending to be?"

I brushed myself off. The front of my jumpsuit was completely caked in mud, but I could at least get rid of some of the pine needles.

"Doesn't matter. You're a worthy adversary, Sweetie Belle, I'll give you that much."

"Uh...thanks?"

Reflexively I reached for a smoke, and then immediately remembered my situation. I felt a twinge of anxiety. Whatever "Twilight" had done to me was still working, but somehow I knew it wasn't going to last much longer. As soon as "the craving" set in, I'd be incapacitated again. Whatever else was going to happen, I needed to get myself some smokes.

Meanwhile Sweetie Belle was looking me up and down, taking in my mud-caked jumpsuit and the twigs stuffed into my cuffs and pockets. She sighed heavily for the third time.

"You're a really weird guy, Mr. Rusty," she said again. "Anyway, come on, we need to get going. You can't just wander around in the Everfree Forest by yourself, especially after dark. And the sun's going down soon."

She turned away from me, peering back into the underbrush she'd emerged from.

[i]Heh, thought I'd been subdued and it was safe to let your guard down, eh? Well I've still got my secret weapon...[/i]

"Alright, let's see," she said, half to herself. "I think I remember which way we came in. If we just follow that path back we should make it back to Sweet Apple Acres before sunset--"

"POCKET SAND!!"

As she turned back towards me, I unleashed a fresh round of the Gribble School's finishing technique, right into the little pony's face.

"Hey!" she protested. She stood blinking in confusion, rubbing her muzzle and spitting out sand. "Not again! Why do you keep doing that--"

"Shishishaw!"

I hissed triumphantly, gave a slight tip of my baseball cap (she had proven herself a worthy adversary after all), and took off running into the woods.

"Hey, get back here!" she cried out behind me. "Didn't you hear what I said?!? Grrr!"

As I crashed through the woods, I could hear the sound of panting and tiny hooves galloping after me.

[i]Damn, this is one tenacious little alien. She really is quite the worthy adversary...[/i]

The shadows were getting longer, the light filtering through the canopy overhead getting thinner. If I could last until nightfall, darkness would give me the cover I'd need.

This alien horse had no idea who she was dealing with.

# Chapter 6:

[i]
Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Unknown

The darkness of the forest closes in around me. It is cold, dark, menacing, and filled with unseen terrible creatures, like the space behind my basement refrigerator. Even obscured by trees, the sky above me looks different than the sky over Arlen that I know and love. These stars are unfamiliar to me. I now believe that I may have left Earth entirely.

There is still much that I do not understand. These extraterrestrial horse-creatures appear to have taken me to their home world for some unknown malevolent purpose. This likelihood bodes well for my friends and family and fellow beloved Arlenites, as it would suggest they have NOT been invaded, colonized and enslaved by an evil race of bloodthirsty pastel horses, as I had at first feared. It does not, however, bode well for the possibility of my aquiring smokes.

I write these last hasty sentences by the light of my trusty Zippo, which, if the website I bought it from is to be believed, was once a prized possession of one Lee Harvey Oswald. If there is any possibility of obtaining smokes on this planet, I must conserve fuel. As such, I unfortunately must forego further entries in this journal until sunrise, assuming I survive that long. Also, I keep burning my fingers.

In the event that I should perish, alone and cold on this hostile Planet of the Ponies, I make the following bequests:

To my friend, Hank Rutherford Hill, I bequeath one (1) Mason Allegro X9J Riding Lawnmower, codename "Redeemer."

To my friend, Jeffrey Dexter Boomhauer, I bequeath one (1) 1992 Dodge Grand Caravan, hereafter referred to as the "Bugabago."

To my friend, Sgt. William Fontaine de la Tour Dauterive, I bequeath one (1) cannister of pure alien urine, which he has on more than one occasion mistaken for a cannister of barbicide, as well as the four (4) Molly Hatchet albums in my possession. I also grant Mr. Dauterive full custody of my colony of Peruvian hissing cockroaches, as I believe his home to be an environment to which the roaches would readily adapt.

My Oswald Zippo I request be used to light my pyre, and subsequently burned along with my remains, assuming said remains are intact upon discovery.

Signed but not notarized,
Dale Alvin Gribble[/i]

"Ow! Dammit, I burned my fingers again."

I snapped the lighter closed and returned both it and my journal to the pocket of my jumpsuit. I got up off the log I'd been sitting on and gazed skyward.

"Alright, stars," I said aloud. "Which one of you is the [i]North[/i] Star?"

For the hundredth time, I reflexively reached into my pocket, only to remember that I had no smokes. The horse-creature's strange treatment still seemed to be holding, which came as a pleasant surprise. However, I still found it difficult to think without a cigarette in my hand.

"What in Equestria are you doing now?!?"

"AARGH!!"

I yelped in surprise as a shrill little voice suddenly penetrated the silence of the dark forest behind me. Attempting to wheel around and face my pursuer, I stumbled on a tree root and fell on my backside. A familiar white unicorn trotted out of the shadows and stood in a pool of moonlight on the grass.

"So," I said. "It appears you've finally caught me. I didn't think you'd be able to track me this far."

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes.

"Track you? You've been stomping around talking to yourself for the last hour. The whole forest probably knows you're here."

I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees.

"Are you going to finish me off right here? Or will you take me back to your hive, for debriefing and eventual dissection?"

She stamped her hoof and gave an exasperated grunt.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! All I know is I've been chasing you around for hours now! I'm tired, and I'm hungry, and I'm--"

She cut herself off and stared sullenly into the forest.

"...and I don't know where we are," she admitted finally. "I don't think I can find my way back on my own."

She took a step towards me, her tiny horn lighting up. Instinctively I scrambled backward, bumping up against a tree. Some pine needles drifted down, landing on my shoulders and the brim of my hat.

[i]Is this where it ends? I won't go down without a fight...[/i]

When she saw my expression, she immediately stopped her approach and doused her horn.

"Please, Mr. Rusty," she said. "I don't want to keep chasing you around. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Just please stop running away."

I brushed the pine needles off of my hat, watching her carefully. Now that I could see her up close, she didn't look all that menacing. Mostly she just looked exhausted, and maybe a little bit frightened. For the first time, I noticed how tiny she really was. Her stance was pathetic; she had left herself wide open. I could get the drop on her pretty easily, I realized, subdue her quickly and run away. However, I realized that I was pretty exhausted myself, and I didn't really want to keep running.

"What do you ponies want with me, anyway?"

"We don't want anything! Honest! I just...you looked like you were sick or something. We were just trying to help."

My hand reached instinctively for my non-existant smokes again, then pulled back.

"That purple one, the one with the horn like yours. What was her deal?"

Sweetie Belle looked confused.

"Wait, do you mean Twilight?"

I nodded.

"She used some kind of tractor beam on me."

Sweetie Belle looked even more confused.

"A tractor?"

I cleared my throat.

"Listen, Sweetie Belle, if that is your real name," I began. "I don't know how you're mixed up in all of this, but you want me to trust you, right?"

She nodded.

"Well before I trust you, I need some answers. I have extensive experience dealing with all manner of alien life, and I have never encountered your kind before. To my knowledge, I have never wronged the ponies of the mighty Horse Planet, and yet, during a routine fumigation, I was knocked unconscious and abducted against my will. I awakened in your world, alone and without smokes, where I was promptly arrested and brought before your Overlord, the one you call 'Twilight'. Before I make any sort of pact with you or any others of your kind, I must know: why was I brought here? What are the coordinates of this planet? And is there anywhere nearby where I could purchase some type of cigarette?"

Sweetie Belle just stared at me for several confused seconds.

"Well," she began finally. "I don't really understand anything you're talking about, but it sounds like you came from someplace pretty far away. You said you were...what was it? A duck?"

"Abducted."

"Right. I definitely didn't have anything to do with that, and neither did any of my friends. If we scared you though, I'm really really sorry. And Twilight isn't an overload, but she [i]is[/i] really smart. If anypony could figure out who it was that...that a-duck-ted you...it would definitely be her."

She frowned slightly.

"But, uh, if you want her to help you, you should probably apologize for throwing sand at her first."

I pensively stroked my chin, considering everything the little horse had told me. The more I thought about it, the less I believed she'd had anything to do with my abduction. And until I could learn more about where I was and how I could get home, I needed someone I could trust.

I narrowed my eyes.

"And if I come with you, you swear you're not going to probe me?"

Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow.

"Probe you? What does [i]that[/i] mean?"

Briefly I explained the procedure to her. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Eew! Why would I want to do [i]that?"[/i]

Suddenly, a low, distant howl cut through the silence around us. Sweetie Belle moved closer to me, her head darting around, trying to peer into the forest by the dim light of her horn.

"W-what was that?"

The howl came again. I scratched my chin, listening.

"Hmmm," I mused. "It sounds like it could be a wolf. Or possibly a WEREwolf."

Sweetie looked up at me, her eyes wide with alarm.

"A where-wolf? What's that?"

"I've dealt with them before, both as an exterminator and as an investigator of the paranormal. They can be a handful sometimes, I'll admit."

I stood up.

"We should probably get moving."

Sweetie Belle looked up at me eagerly.

"So, do you think you can get us back to Ponyville?"

"Ma'am, I am a licensed professional bounty hunter and a wilderness survival expert. You may rest assured that I will protect you from any and all werewolves while you remain in my company. I will, however, need you to solemnly swear that neither you or this 'Twilight' plan on dissecting me later."

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

"Fine, I promise I won't dissect you. Twilight either. Can we go now, please?"

I stared up in concentration at the night sky.

"Yes, I just need a moment to get my bearings."

"Okay."

I continued staring at the sky. Sweetie Belle tapped a hoof and swished her tail back and forth. Time passed.

"Um...well?" she asked finally.

"Yes, I just had one question. Do you happen to know which one of these stars is the NORTH star?"

Sweetie groaned.

"You have no idea where we are either, do you?" she asked miserably.

"Uh...not as such, no," I admitted.

The little pony ground her teeth, looking like she wanted to ram me with her horn. However, another low howl suddenly echoed in the distance, followed by an answering howl from the other side of the forest. She changed her mind, pressing up against my leg instead.

"C-can we just get going please?"

As if in answer, another mournful howl echoed across the forest. It sounded a little closer this time.