Mr. Friendly in Equestria - Chapter 4 FINALE

Mr. Friendly in Equestria – Chapter 4
By Wuten and Chronicler.

>You are Anonymous.
>And you’re on the run. Again.
>That thing… it followed you all the way out into the ocean.
>And as you reached land, you saw… IT…
>That same, slimy head from before, it writhed its way out of the water, along with all other 40 heads…
>And now, you’re running through the streets of Manehatten, that giant monstrosity following close behind you, slamming its seemingly endless amounts of heads into nearby buildings and skyscrapers as it wobbled its way through the streets behind you.
>And despite all of the chaos, all of the panic, all of the sounds of crashing buildings… that thing’s voice continues to drone on…
>”YOU… NEED… ME…”
>You swear, once you get out of this, you’re going to be getting mental therapy…
>You hang a corner and enter an alleyway, sprinting across overturned garbage cans, large dumpsters, and even a few street urchin ponies as you make your way down the alley.
>Fortunately for you, the alleyway will keep the entire thing from following you.
>Unfortunately, however, one head was all it needed. The voice continued bombarding your sanity with every repeat of the phrase.
>When you finally reach the other side, you turn quickly to the right, sprinting diagonally across the street, dodging carriages as you continue sprinting.
>You slip inside of an abandoned warehouse, and take a moment to breathe a sigh of relief. A moment’s reprieve from the droning of that… THING…
>Hey… what’s that?
>You peer into the darkness, and the figure of a pony walks out into the open.
>He’s wearing glasses and has a dark beard around his face; his cutie mark, for some strange reason, is a crowbar…
>Who is this pony?
>You dive the fuck outta the way as this single brave pony charges off.
>The great beast flails high above you, its heads letting out that penetrating warcry that drives burning nails into your ear-marehood
>"NEEEEEED!"
>As you squint through the tears, you watch that unnamed, silent stallion casually pull out what you could only call an assault rifle.
>Where the blueberry fuck did a pony get an Assault Rifle?
>More importantly, how the hell is he shooting it?
>You notice the massive monstrosity wavering, and speed from your trashcan cover with the gait of a Kenyan as the street behind you explodes in dust and dirt, a massive concussive cloud billowing after you as you dive into an allyway.
>Sputtering in the darkness of the now-eclipsed sun, you grasp blindly for something, anything, when you-
"AIIIEEE!"
>That was far less masculine than you would have wanted.
>You hit the ground shielding your eyes, trying not to lose your corneas to this new, blinding light.
>You go from blinded by darkness, to blinded by the light.
>As your eyes adjust, you find your stoic savior standing above you.
>Slowly rising, you look at this pony with awe and reverence, and a smidgeon of respect for that bitchin goatee.
>You open your mouth to speak, yet remain silent.
>You got the feeling like he wanted you to follow close.
>He hands... hoofs... gives, you a flashlight, and you begin to follow him, when you hear...
>It.
>"Youuu..."
>That ain't soulja boy.
>"... neeeeeeed..."
>You look down at this other pony, as he calmly turns around, not blinking.
>"... meeee..."
>Stumbling into the light of both of your flashlights, is a wounded but still very much alive monster from the depths of your waking nightmares.
>You feel the urge to jog to a specific point, and waste no time sprinting away from the beginning fight as the pony pulls out YET ANOTHER weapon!
>Seriously, where was he keeping these things?
>This time, a crowbar of all items.
>What that would do to this... thing, you didn't know, but you run like hell away anyways.
>Suddenly, your flashlight dims, flickers, and fades, just as the strengths leaves your limbs.
>Why was having your flashlight on draining your stamina to run?!
>You stumble in the darkness of this dusty twilight for a few minutes, before the sun once more begins to shine.
>As you exit the alleyway, you come out into the street, and stop to catch your breath.
>That brave, foolish pony had bought you time to escape.
>You intended to make the most of this second chance.
>As your stra-
>Hooffalls behind you
>You spin around, horrified, expecting that vile demon from the pits of your nightmares to slither out of the shadows, chanting its maddening mantra while that insufferable drone blocks out all thoughts, but...
>That strange, helpful pony approaches, and simply nods to you.
>You felt a bond there, a sense of understanding, and you smiled.
>It was over.
>You were free.
>You can finally return home, where you belong.

>It took you nearly two days to get back to Fillydelphia. Due to all of the destruction that thing caused, the trains were unusable, so you ended up having to walk the entire way back home…
>As you walk the final distance to your apartment, a feeling of peace overwhelms you.
>It was finally done and over with.
>You smile, opening the door and making the final trek up the stairs to your own living quarters, the feeling of nostalgia almost getting to you as you undo the correct set of the twelve locks you have set up around your door.
>When you open the door, you take your time as you look around your apartment, closing the door behind you.
>The entire place was trashed. Window busted, furniture smashed, books and brew scattered across the entire place… this would take a while to clean up.
>But that didn’t matter, now; you were home, that was the important thing.
>You continue your walkthrough of the apartment; looks like most of the stuff in your bedroom was untouched.
>The best part? Your Pac-Mare machine still worked perfectly. Fuck yeah!
>You grin happily, before you hear a rumbling sound.
>You look around, eyes widened in surprise for a moment, when you realize it wasn’t coming from around you.
>It was coming from your stomach.
>You laugh, realizing you haven’t had anything to eat since leaving Fillydelphia a few days ago.
>Eagerly, you rush over to the kitchen, opening the fridge to find something to eat. To your disappointment, however, there’s nothing there…
>Some bastard must’ve snuck in through your window and made off with all of your grub while you were gone.
“Well. Fuck.”
>You sigh, closing the fridge door, before it turns into a hungering groan of disappointment.
>That’s when you see it.
>There, on the counter, is a box. Completely untouched by any of the chaos that had befallen the rest of the apartment, no less.
>You don’t remember having a box there when you left, so that means that at some point someone, or something, put it there.
>…
>Well, fuck. Might as well have a look inside.
>You tear off the duct tape holding it together, and slowly, cautiously, pull the flaps open.
>Inside… there’s a cake.
>Chocolate cake, with chocolate chips along the sides, and truffle along the top.
>You smile. Who would have given you a cake like this? It wasn’t your birthday, to your knowledge, so no one had a known reason to…
>You pull the cake out of the box, and set it on the counter. Damn, that thing looks GOOD…
>They even spelled out something along the top in the chocolate truffle bits! How nice. What does it say?
>…
>”You need me.”
>…
>You pull out a knife and cut yourself a slice of cake, before picking it up with your bare hand and taking a bite out of it, and then walk over to your Pac-Mare machine to drown your despair in the familiar “wop wop wop” droning sound of the game.
>That cake was fucking delicious.

>End Chapter 4