Act 1

>You are Anon.
>One of many, surprisingly.
>Just another day spent on Vietnam's #1 Salmon Fishing Website, when you came across a thread that had a best pone strawpoll.
>Of course, your voice must be heard, can't let Fast Cunt get the lead.
>However, the link led you somewhere else, yadda yadda yadda, and you woke up in the magical land of Equestria.
>Does it really matter how you got here?
>Well, kind of, because it turns out other people followed in your footsteps, and not all of them were from /mlp/.
>A lot of /co/mrades, some /v/irgins, a couple fa/tg/uys, a crossie from /k/, and a frogposter from /r9k/ are amidst the most recent arrivals.
>And so are you.
>You open your eyes, expecting to be greeted by a slightly cloudy sky and a few branches, but instead are met with ceiling tile splattered with what appears to be chocolate milk.
>"Hey, buddy."
>Some guy snaps in your face.
>"Get off the floor, we don't vacuum in here."
>You sit up, and look around.
>You're in what appears to be the lobby of an apartment building, or a really shitty hotel.
>There's some guy, probably the one who talked to you, next to you in a bellhop outfit.
Nice duds.
>"Thanks, I picked them out myself."
From where, a dumpster behind an oshkoshbgosh?
>"I'll have you know it was a Gap Kids, and-"
>He shakes his head.
>"I don't have time for this. You want a room, or not?"
>You check your pockets and find only some lint and a pressed penny.
>'Scenic Schweitzer Falls, The Backside of Water'
I don't have any money for a room.
>"I didn't ask if you had any money, I asked if you wanted a room. Also, could you get off the floor already? I get enough of this from Jackson over there."
>He gestures through an archway into what looks like a waiting room, with an old radio in the corner instead of a television.
>There's a grown man wearing footie pajamas one size too small on the floor in front of it, listening to a Radio Serial about Daring Do.
>He has one arm beneath him. You shudder, and get to your feet.
>Approaching the counter, there are a lot of hooks on the wall behind the guy. Each with a number, and you know how a hotel lobby works.
>"So, what room you want? They're pretty much all the same, so it's really comes down to what number you think you'll remember."
>Well, that's a tough one. Your not one for remembering little details.
What rooms do you have left?
>"Let's see here, I got 12, 27, uhh 24, and the Broom Closet."
Why bring up the broom closet?
>"What's it to you?"
>Fair point.
I'll take room 12.
>He tosses you the key.
>"Don't lose that now, it's hard to get copies made. I don't get paid for this, and it costs a lot of bits."

>You finally exit the building, and are greeted with a view of Ponyville in the distance, and Twilight's shitty Crystal Cathedral on the opposite side of town.
>Canterlot Castle looms in the distance behind it, and the Everfree separates the town from the mountain's base, stretching around the village to close in behind your back.
>You've gotta say, this is a nice view. You doubt your room even has a window, though.
>Meh, you'll see it later. Right now, you've got to make your arrival.
>You make a brisk pace down the dirt path, and find yourself at City Hall at the center of town. There are two other people standing in front of the building, one holding a sign and the other in a hotdog suit.
>The sign reads-
>"ALL NEW ARRIVALS, PLEASE PRESENT YOURSELF TO BE RECORDED. THE ACB VALUES YOUR DEDICATION."
>"Why even bother giving me a sign if you're just gonna shout it every time someone goes by?'
>"Because shut up. What if they're deaf? Or blind?"
>"What if they don't speak English, we had at least one guy who kept saying 'Ya Es Hora', they had to lock him in a cell."
>"A fluke. There are no more foreign posters, and have been none since the second scruffening-"
Hey, I'm a new arrival, I guess.
>"Yeah, just head on in." Hotdog guy waves you in, and goes back to his conversation. "You've got to understand, there was this one guy who had cataracts and made his kid brother post online for him."
>"Everyone's seen that screengrab. The guy's probably dead by now."
>"Are you saying no one else with cataracts would go on 4chan?"
>"I'm saying it's unlikely."
>Town hall is full of other humans waiting in several different lines, all holding different forms.
>You go into the closest line to you, and prepare for an arduous journey.

>"Ok, now that you've filled out form AYB-720, had your bloodwork done, and been far even as decided, we just have one last question."
Is this another shitty old meme? We get it, longcat is long, he's probably also dead by now.
>"No no no, it's just a final formality. How do you wish to be addressed?"
I picked room 12, but I don't know what street it's on,
>"No, what's your moniker? Some people chose to actually use their real name, or in some cases a real name, and we'd like to know if you would like to as well."
Oh, right. Anon's fine.
>You don't really have that much attachment to your real name. You never liked it anyway, people always spelled it wrong.
>"Alright then, Anonymous number 12311, welcome to Equestria."
>The guy behind the counter stamps a couple of your forms, and hands you a hand drawn index card.
>He then files it all away, and you here the sounds of blades whirring.
>"You don't have to carry the card around, but don't lose it. Otherwise, you'll have to do the entire process over."
What happens if I lose it, and don't come back for another one?
>"What do I care, faggot, it's not like we're keeping track of how many of us are actually out there, otherwise we'd have to keep using old numbers whenever some retard gets himself killed."
>The shutter closes, and a little sign says 'Use Next Window.'
>Finally leaving town hall, you see the moon has risen and you've been in there for god knows how long.
>Hotdog guy and his friend are gone, and it seems the center is nearly empty.
>Except for one guy sitting on a park bench below a streetlamp that didn't get extinguished.
>He looks like he's had a rough time, and is shivering heavily despite his plush jacket.
>In any other instance, you'd ignore the vagrant, but this is one of your fellow horsefuckers. Where would we all be without the magic of friendship?
>You start to head towards the poor fellow, but trip over your pants, which had unexpectedly fallen down.
>You end up accidentally lodging your own cock down your throat, and choke to death.
>Thus ends your story. You fucking idiot.